ADVENTURERS’ CLUB
HEADLINES FROM THE LIVES
OF PEOPLE LIKE VOURSELFI
“Wild Night Afloat”
Hello everybody:
You know, sometimes Old Lady Adventure puts you
through the paces in a second or two, and then lets up
on you.
I’ve told you boys and girls a couple of yarns, at least,
that didn’t last more than five or six seconds at the most.
But there are also times when the old girl with the thrill
bag seems to take delight in teasing her victims, as a cat
would tease a mouse—tossing one bit of hard luck after
another at them, until she has them worn down and ready
to quit.
Floyd Smith of Chicago could tell you a yarn like that.
A tale of terror for hours on end. And as a matter of fact,
Floyd will tell you that story. For we’ve got him here with
us at the Adventurers’ campfire tonight and he’s all
ready to go.
It’s a story of the World war—and, incidentally, Floyd
wants me to announce that if any of the three fellows who
went through it with him should read this story—well—he sure hopes
they’ll drop him a line.
The scene of this yarn is Brest, France, where Floyd was attached
to the U. S. naval air station. He was one of a crew of four on a speed
boat—the type of craft that is known as a gig in the navy—and it was
one day in August, 1918, that the gig and its crew was sent out for an
all-night battle with Old Lady Adventure.
Men Ordered Taken Off Pensacola.
It was about eight o’clock in the evening when the officer of the day
brought their orders. The U. S. S. Pensacola had weighed anchor a short
time before and was putting out to sea. Aboard her was a 15-man detail
from the air station, which had been helping to unload the ship. They
were to have been taken off before the Pensacola sailed, but the orders
had been mixed up, and there they were, getting a ride they were never
intended to have. The gig’s orders were to catch the Pensacola and
h take the men off.
Says Floyd: “We took out after the ship, which was already
in the narrow channel that leads from the bay to the open sea. In
about 10 minutes we were a hundred yards astern of the Pensa
cola, when suddenly our motor quit. Well—it goes without saying
that we did not catch the Pensacola. As luck would have it
the tide was going out, and it swept us out to sea.”
The water out there was too deep for the anchor line, so they kept
right on drifting. It was growing dark by that time, so no one ashore
saw their predicament. With no means to stop the boat from drifting.
“We were a hundred yards astern of the Pensacola, when suddenly
our motor quit.”
those four lads worked frantically, trying to get the motor started again,
but they only made matters worse. They ran the batter down and
then they were left without lights.
The Gig Drifts Slowly Out to Sea.
“By this time,” says Floyd, “it was pitch dark and it had started to
rain. There was nothing to do but drift, so we drifted.”
And under that casual statement, there lies a world of terror.
Those four lads—every one of them—knew what it meant to
drift out to sea. If they were lucky they might be picked up by
a passing steamer. But on the other hand, it was all too easy
to drift unsighted for days on end, and Anally perish of thirst and
exposure.
"We drifted until about 2 a. m.,” Floyd says, "and then the sea began
to get rough and we really had something to worry about, for there were
mine fields all about the entrance of the harbor and we figured we had
drifted into them. The mines were moored 12 feet below the surface,
but with the high swells bobbing us up and down, we stood a good chance
of hitting one of them. We began holding our breaths.”
^ About an hour later, they sighted a blinker light—and that was the
signal for more panic.
“It was too high to be on a ship,” says Floyd, “so it must have
been on a cliff. Were we going to be washed against this cliff?
We ail prepared for the worst. We put on life preservers and let
out the anchor. But the anchor didn’t hold. The boat still drifted.
After a while we had drifted to a place where we could see
lights in the distance. Could it be true that we were in the
channel, beading back toward Brest?”
Boat Drifts Back to Starting Point.
And that’s just where they were. The boat had drifted right back
to where it had started.
Luck? Sure, it was. But those lads still had the worst of their ad
venture to go through. Back on shore, someone had spotted them. The
blinker on the cliff was signaling, but in a code they couldn’t understand.
“Would they open fire on us?” says Floyd. "That’s what we
were afraid of. They kept searchlights on us until we were half
way through the channel, and then we saw a swift-moving vessel
coming in our direction. When it got with a hundred yards of
ns I could see that it was a torpedo boat. Its searchlight beamed
on us, and It came straight for us.”
Straight at them it came—full speed ahead, and with no intention o*
stopping. It just grazed the stern of the boat—but with a force that spun
it around and almost knocked its four occupants overboard.
“By the time we had come to our senses,” says Floyd, “it
^ had turned and was coming back to take another ram at us. All
four of us began yelling at the top of our lungs, ‘Americans—
Americans! ’ ”
The boat came on. It came within a few feet of the gig, and
then, suddenly, it turned sharply aside. The boys kept right on
yelling, "Americans," then from the French torpedo boat came
the answer, "Oui, oui.”
“We told them our engine had broken down," says Floyd, “and they
said they thought we were a German submarine. They towed us back
to our station, and when we were ashore again we all agreed it was one
night we would long remember.”
(Released by Western Newspaper Union.)
Best Pleasures Simplest,
The best pleasures are first, the
simplest—pleasures which require
least machinery, least effort on the
part of others; second, the least ex
pensive; third, the most accessible;
fourth, those that can be most wide
ly shared; fifth, those that can be
most often repeated without doing
harm to body, mind, or soul; sixth,
those that call into action the high
V est qualities of life. The best pleas
Require the Least Effort
ures are what we might call top
floor pleasures; that is. the pleas
ures of mind and spirit. If we test
our pleasures by such laws as these,
they will take us outdoors instead
of indoors; to nature, and not to arti
ficial things; to wholesome exercise,
and not just to idle entertainment;
to music, friendship, and books rath
er than to excitement and things
that are artificial.
WHO’S
NEWS
THIS
WEEK
By LEMUEL F. PARTON
NEW YORK.—Perhaps it is the
heat, general, it seems, through
out the civilized world these days,
I or more likely it is one of those
! . waves of human
Born in Wealth, aspiration that
Ellsworth Picks sometime
Hazardous Life ^ PAt‘any*
rate in announcing intention to re
turn to Antarctica to seek to learn
some of the primal secrets hidden
in the interior of the continent at
the bottom of the world, Lincoln
Ellsworth shares ambition with Ad
miral Byrd, as with British, Nor
wegian, French and Argentinan
flyer-explorers. Difference is that,
whereas Mr. Ellsworth’s motives
are purely scientific, in other cases
international politics in their rela
tion to geographical claims are the
incentives.
Love of adventures manifested
when yet in his ’teens sent Ells
worth forth to explore unknown
regions in different parts of the
world. Scion of wealthy parents,
born in Chicago in 1880, he could
have ordered his career, had he
wished, along many lines less
strenuous and of fewer hazards
than the one he chose and in
which he has become so distin
guished. He came east to a crack
seat of secondary learning, the
Hill school, Pottstown, Pa., and
upon graduation entered Colum
bia where he won .scholastic hon
ors in the department of civil
engineering. But, bec'ming res
tive under the sedentary routine
of student life, he did not wait
to be graduated.
Faring forth into the wild, he be
came an axman on the first Grand
Trunk Pacific railway survey of the
transcontinental route across Cana
da. For five years he saw the vir
gin land of the Northwest, lived
among Indians, shared the hard
ships of pioneers. In 1907 he became
resident engineer of the Grand Trunk
at Prince Rupert, B. C.
But his work, filled though it was
with hardship and adventure, was not
enough. Restlessness was in his
soul and the unknown beckoned. So
1909 found him in the Peace river
district in northern Canada, pros
pecting for gold. Then the World
war came and, seeking action, he
went to France where he became
an aviator long before the United
States entered the strife.
The real turning point in his
career came with his meeting
with Raoul Amundsen in Paris
in 1924. With the great Nor
wegian explorer he participated
in various expeditions culminat
ing in 1926 with the famous
flight in a dirigible over the
North pole. Since then subse
quent trips of exploration won
him enhanced fame and added
thrilling chapters to a gallant
life of action.
PROFESSOR J. B. S. HALDANE,
the famous British biochemist,
who just now offers to sit inside an
air-raid shelter while it is bombed
from the out
Scientist Balks side, is the
At Nothing; as only living test
v , ,, , tube — still un
Yet Unscarred scarred
Last month he sealed himself
in an air-tight chamber for 14
hours to learn how the victims
of the Thetis submarine disaster
felt in their last hours. He once
ate an ounce of ammonium
chloride a day, survived it and
learned a lot about tetanus and
saving children’s livc,s. Studying
fatigue, he shut himself for long
periods in a tight chamber, the
air charged with carbon dioxide.
Tracing effects of acid on the
body, he ate daily three ounces
of bicarbonate of soda, following
it with a chaser of hydrochloric
acid, diluted with water. Twice
gassed in the World war, he
seemed to enjoy himself a lot,
writing down his sensations with
Gusto and later qualifying as an
expert on mustard and other
gases.
With all that, he hasn’t a scratch
on him and doesn’t suffer even from
indigestion. Husky and vigorous, he
doubles as guinea pig and a writer,
the latter pursuit greatly enhancing
his fame, notably with his book
Daedalus, which was quite a sensa
tion in this country in 1924. He ex
periments on his mind just as he
does on his body. He is moved main
ly by the idea that we know precious
little about life and death and the
human body and mind, and that in
the short time allotted to us we
ought to try anything once, which he
consistently does. He is a spirited
writer, giver to epigrams, and is
known as the G. B. Shaw of Science.
The son of a distinguished
Scottish scientist, he was edu
cated at Oxford and gained in
creasing reputation before he
was 30. He is 47.
(Consolidated Features—WNU Service.)
-j
EGGS FOU TWO
86
By STANLEY JONES
lMcClure Syndicate—WNU Service.1
*
TMIF! June sun was just begin
ning to warm the red tiles of
the terrace when a tall young
man swung quietly up the
si-ms. He wore a leather flying coat
and there was a smudge of grease
down the side of his lean face.
Stretching behind him was a long
slope of emerald turf that dipped
into the dancing waters of Long Is
land sound.
Picking up a pebble, he chucked it
against one of the screened win
dows in the great, silent house.
"Hey, Lazy,” he called guarded
ly. "Stick out your head.”
There came, presently, the muf
fled click of mules, then startled
blue eyes in a face lovely despite a
certain imperious tension.
"Why, Tom Proctor! I thought
you were in town. What on earth—"
"Listen, Kay. Slide into some
thing and come out for a whirl in
the new amphibian—she runs like a
charm."
"Gee, I’d love to,” sighed the
girl. "But I’ve got more things to
do, Tom. A meeting at 10, Mrs. Shut
tleworth at 11, school board for
luncheon. And right after, the Gar
den club and—"
"Aw, let ’em wait," coaxed Tom,
entreaty in his face.
“You can see that bunch of freaks
any day."
“Well, 15 minutes, then, smiled
Kay. “And they're no more freaks
than you are, if anyone should ask
me. Wait 'till I tell Miss McKay
where I am, in case anyone calls.”
Twice the graceful silver plane
circled the fields and wooded clumps
of the far-flung estate.
Kathryn peered out through the
cabin window; for a time her eyes
lost that intense, preoccupied look
which Tom had come to note with
increasing dismay.
“Why, it’s lovely!” she cried,
squeezing his hand impulsively.
“Course it is,” said Tom. “Things
are always lovely when we get to
gether, Hon! Why, no two people
ever had more fun than we used to
have. Until you gave me the air
to run the whole doggone commu
nity out here.”
"Don’t be injured,” said the girl,
patting his hand with mock pity.
“You are still the nicest man I
know, Mr. Proctor.”
Then, almost subconsciously, her
eyes were drawn to the little silver
clock in the cowl.
“Goodness, I must hurry. Home,
James, if you please.”
The man regarded her curiously
for a long moment, shook his head.
“Not today,” he said quietly.
Kathryn flushed, stared.
Then her jaw settled in a way
reminiscent of her father, old “T.
D.”, the act of squashing a discent
ing director. Her voice took on a
quickened, exciting edge.
“What on earth ails you, Tom? I
tell you I’ve no time for—”
“You’re going to take a little
time, Kay,” he interrupted coolly.
"Time for a little trip—where you
can't be a big, important commit
teewoman to anybody but me for a
change.”
Now, if there was one quality
upon which Kathryn prided herself
above all others, it was self-pos
session. At the moment, with an
overpowering impulse to wrest the
controls from his hands, she bit her
lip and shrugged.
“Very well, Tom. But I can
promise you one thing; I shan't for
get this in a hurry.”
“That,” he replied, with a cer
tain grim sincerity, "is precisely
what 1 am hoping. It’s long over
due.”
They had no more talk until the
red afternoon sun began cooling
itself to lavender in the blue mist
obscuring the horizon.
Then, abruptly, Tom frowned at
his map.
A glance at the instrument board,
and the little plane curled straight
out to sea. It was then that Kath
ryn’s nerve broke.
“You take me back!” she cried
fiercely. “I’ve had enough of this!”
She snatched at the stick—the
ship dipped crazily.
She beat at his head, his arm, her
breath hot and incoherent with sobs.
At length Tom released one hand
to grip her shoulder.
“You sit still," he commanded in
a voice she had never heard. “Sit
still and shut up—for once. I’m
running this, understand?”
Kathryn cried a little then, and
sulked in the deep white folds of her
polo coat.
An hour droned by.
Suddenly she gasped and clutched
the seat. The plane was nosing
down. Blue water swung up at
them; a deeper, clearer blue than
the sound. Down, down, until the
hull skimmed it lightly as a swal
low’s wing, rose, and settled again
with a smooth, sighing "S-s-wish.”
Tom taxied in slowly until they
grounded on the white sand of a
large wooded island.
“Well, that does it,” he exclaimed
with satisfaction. “Come on, hon—
help unload.” Kathryn glared at his
eager face.
“What do you think you’re going
to do? Spend the night on this God
forsaken island—alone with me?”
He looked back at her, pausing on
the little ladder. “Night, my eye,”
he said cheerfully. "Two months
—unless you refuse te cook and I
have to kill you.”
He glanced at the white beach,
the green tufts of palms nodding
welcome in the soft breeze.
"Gee, isn't this swell? It’s Ed
Graham's island—he's got a knock
out of a cottage up on that knoll.
Straw roof, running water from a
well, supplies—everything, hon! And
I've got your bags here.”
“I could kill you," declared Kath
ryn. "My committees will be—”
“The deuce with 'em,” said Tom,
filling his pipe.
“Come on, lend a hand. “Why,”
he leaned on his elbows, smiling ;
reminiscently. “Why, do you real
ize how long it's been since you and
I made a fire outdoors together?”
“I won’t lift a finger,” said Kath
ryn fiercely. “I’ll starve first.”
Tom looked at her, shrugged.
"Up to you, of course. But it’s
no fun.”
She heard his feet plump on the
sand, his whistle trail off into si
lence up the path.
It became dreadfully still, all at
once.
Kathryn peered out into the
strange twilight.
She realized that she was fam
ished, faint with hunger.
She indulged herself in morbid
satisfaction at the trouble and re
morse which would seize Tom Proc
tor when he found her starved to
death on his hands.
“Kay! Oh Ka-ay!”
She turned a deaf ear to the hail.
It was repeated once. Eagerly.
Boyishly.
“Oh, Lord, but I’m hungry," whis
pered Kathryn. “But I won’t give (
in—I’ll die first”
She had no idea how long she ]
slept, leaning back in the cramped
cockpit. Dreaming tortured dreams
of eggs, burbling happily in bacon
fat.
The illusion became agonizingly
real. It seemed to fill the cabin,
depriving her of all strength, all
will-power.
Weakly, she struggled to stifle her
senses, wondering if she were not
losing her mind.
"Hey,'' said Tom’s voice, pleas
antly inquiring. “How do you poach
an egg, gal? Bust it and mix it, or
sprawl it out like a bath-mat?" In
the first pink flush of early morn
ing, Kathryn rubbed her eyes and
tried to remain aloof from the tan
talizing skillet which he juggled.
After a final awful struggle she
gave in.
“Not that way, you poor clown,"
she said scornfully. “Here, help me
out before they're totally ruined.
“But,” she paused, halfway down
the ladder, “don’t think that this is
going to save you when I get home.
When my father hears about—”
"Just suppose,” said Tom impu
dently, "just suppose that I had al
ready talked the thing over with
T. D. Like to know what he said?”
“No,” said Kathryn defiantly.
“Yes. But you’d lie, anyway.”
“Not me,” said Tom, hooking her
arm complacently. “Don’t have to
. . . watch those eggs, there! Well,
T. D. laughed so hard he nearly fell
out of his chair. Then he slapped
me on the back and said, ‘Boy,
that’s the best idea you’ve had since
you married her, 10 years ago!’ ”
Apache Foray Averted
With $65 Buffalo Hunt
The gods of peace must have
smiled when it was revealed recent
ly how an obscure Indian agent 64
years ago averted a war by spend
ing $65 and organizing a buffalo
hunt.
According to the report, written :
in 1874 by Alex G. Irvine to the |
Hon. Edward P. Smith, U. S. com- j
missioner of Indian affairs, the
Apaches went marauding one night
and stole half a dozen horses from J
the Utes.
me Uies couniereu uy hic,uu
inary thumps on their war drums.
Irvine, a one-man league of nations
in what was then a Southwestern
wilderness, sensed the impending
trouble and called the two tribes
into council at Cimarron, N. M.
Representatives glowered across
the room at each other in the
agency building during which Irvine
wrote that he did much perspiring
to keep the pow-wow from becom
ing the beginning of a scalping
spree.
Eventually Irvine got the Apaches
grudgingly to agree to return the
stolen horses. However, this ar
rangement failed to make peace be
tween the tribes. The Utes demand
ed the lives of the thieves. The
Apaches, of course, objected.
So the meeting broke up with each
tribe waiting for the other to make
a misstep to put on the war paint.
It was then that Irvine conceived
the iaea of the buffalo hunt. He
reasoned that if the warriors of one
of the tribes were busy in another
part of the country there would be
no occasion for friction between the
two groups. The Apaches, for an
unnamed reason, were chosen to go
or. the hunt.
Irvine’s report revealed the fol
lowing bill of sale:
1,000 lbs. of gun caps.$ 2.50
1 doz. butcher knives .... 6.00
20 lbs. lead . 5.00
10 lbs. gunpowder. 10.00
1,200 lbs. shot. 42.00
Total .$65.50
Flags Tell
In Helsinki (Helsingfors), Finland,
hotels display the national flag of
every guest registered, so that a
foreign visitor can tell in a glance
whether a compatriot is in town,
says Agnes Rothery in her new book
on Finland. These flags are taken
in at night, with the exception of
Midsummer night, when, since the
sun does not set on them, they re
main unfurled 36 hours.
HCW* SEW
4^ Ruth Wyeth Spears
THERE is logic in the idea that
glasses, china and pots and
pans should have their own tow
els. Here is a simple way to make
that logic work. Write across the
corner of each towel with a soft
pencil the purpose for which it is
to be used. Use a soft pencil and
your best script with the tall let
ters at least two inches high.
Work over the hand writing with
heavy, bright colored embroidery
thread. Chain stitch, as shown
here at the upper right, gives a
good strong outline and may be
done quickly. Use a different color
for each kind of towel. Colored
Strange Facts
f Of Three Faiths f
Move Vp 20 Minutes
* Lucky Death Chair *
China and Japan possess some
400,000,000 people, or one-fifth of
the population of the world, who
profess and practice two or three
religions at the same time. Most
Chinese are adherents of two, if
not all three, of their native faiths
—Buddhism, Confucianism and
Taoism—while the majority of
Japanese follow both of their pop
ular religions — Buddhism and
Shintoism.
All countries do not move their
timepieces ahead one hour in ob
serving daylight-saving time. New
Zealand, for one, advances its
clocks 30 minutes, while several
West African colonies advance
theirs only 20 minutes.
The only American to be made
an English peer was Mantoe, chief
of the Hatteras Indians, who re
ceived the baronial title of Lord of
Roanoke in 1587 for the part he
had played in Sir Walter Raleigh’s
colonization activities.
Constitution Day of former
Czecho-Slovakia was celebrated
only once every four years be
cause it fell on February 29. It
was observed to honor the Czech
constitution, which was ratified on
that day in 1920.
An odd superstition long preva
lent among the habitual gamblers
at the Monte Carlo Casino is that
the chair recently occupied by a
suicide is the luckiest one in the
house.—Collier’s.
facings of prepared bias binding
used flat as shown at the lower left
make a practical edge finish. If
you use flour and sugar sacks for
dish towels, these suggestions for
adding color will be especially
useful.
GOOD NEWS is here for every
homemaker. SEWING BOOK No.
3 is now ready for mailing. It
contains 32 useful homemaking
ideas, with all directions clearly
illustrated. You will be delighted
with it. The price of this new
book is only 10 cents postpaid En
close coin with name and address
to Mrs. Spears, 210 S. Desplaines
St., Chicago, 111.
Beautiful Crocheted
Doilies for the Table
Pattern 1935
Add that touch of luxury that
marks a well-kept home. Crochet
a large lace doily for a center
piece—a large and two medium
sized ones for buffet set—three
sizes repeated for a luncheon set!
The large doily measures IS
inches, the medium one 12 inches
and the small 6 inches. Pattern
1935 contains directions for mak
ing doilies; illustrations of them
and of stitches; materials re
quired; photograph of doily.
Send 15 cents in coins for this
pattern to The Sewing Circle Nee
dlecraft Dept., 82 Eighth Ave.,
New York.
A Loving Thought
Instead of a gem or even a flow
er, cast the gift of a loving thought
into the heart of a friend.—George
McDonald.
JUST
PASH IN
i
(
MEANS MORE
Use Acid-Free Quaker State Motor Oil
regularly. Your car will run farther before
you need to add a quart . . . you save on
repair bills. These results are assured be
cause every drop of Quaker State is acid
free. You get only pure, rich, heat-resistant
lubricant specifically refined to give you ^
care-free driving. Quaker State Oil Refin
ing Corporation, Oil City, Pennsylvania.