Argosy All-Story Weekly, November 13, 1920 — page 54: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

3o2 The Texan felt himself growing numb. He seemed to be slipping—slipping— from some great height—slipping slowly down -a long, soft incline. In vain he struggled to check the slow, easy descent. He was slipping faster now—fairly shoot- ing toward the bottom. Somehow he didn’t seem to care. ‘There were rocks at the bottom—this he knew—but the knowledge did not worry him. Time enough to worry about that when he struck—but this smooth, easy slide was pleasant. Crash! There was a blinding flash of light. Fountains of stars played before his eyes like fireworks on the Fourth of July. An agonizing pain shot through his body— and then—oblivion. ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY, A buckskin horse, with two water-soaked boots lashing his flanks, and trailing a lariet rope from the horn of his saddle, dashed madly up a coulée. The pack string broke and the terrifying thing that lashed him on fell to the ground with a thud. The run became a trot, and the trot a walk. When the coulée widened into a grassy plain, he warily circled the rope that dragged from the saddle, and presently deciding it was harmless, fell eagerly to eating soggy buffalo grass that carpeted the ground, | While back at the mouth of the coulee lay two unconscious forms, their bodies partly awash in the lapping waves of the rising river. This story will be continued in next week’s issue of the ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY, the consolidated title under which both magazines will appear hereafter as one. HE law as set down for sailing mas- ters offers a fair measure of protec- tion for seamen. Captain Gully, of the steam whaler Bow- head, was familiar with this law. It pre- vented him from completing his crew. Men of any kind were scarce in San Francisco. Cargoes rotted in ships’ holds while the wages of ordinary seamen mounted to im- possible heights. The Bowhead was ready to steam ior the Arctic and Bering Sea whaling grounds. Her boat-steerers, harpooners, mates, engi- neers, and twelve of a crew were aboard. Captain Gully dared not cat the anchor | Henry Lever age without eighteen men before the mast. He needed six more hands in the fo’c’s’le. ‘““ Hansen,” he told his first mate,” lower the dingey and go to the Blubber Room on East Street. Ask for Abie Kelly. Bring Abie out with you.” “The crimp?” “You know him.” Ja! I dank I know him.” ‘“ Bring him to me!” Hansen returned at nightfall... He stead- ied the bosun’s ladder that hung from the taffrail and watched Abie Kelly climb to the deck. Captain Gully greeted the crimp like a Gomichboo <S (E@)