The Waterbury Democrat., 1934-07-25

Clean ship during preliminary turning her over Navy De- partment upon arrival. Use eau tion but try for record run. No convoy arranged. As this Is your last voyage under retirement pro- vision, keep your record bright. Jensen"
 The aged Cap'n Drake stroked his brick-colored face. So that was it, eh? Despite the far, the line proposed to retire him anyway, in that he'd reached the age of 65. Soon John Drake. would be snuggcd down on some little farm, with the cyclone of war beyon his ken.
 Sent to pasture, like a broken down horse with the blind staggers and spawned. And this after fifty-two years at. sea!
 Cap'n Drake swore a mighty string of oaths and hurled his cap
 at the deck of his room. Shang- hai him to the beach, would they ? They would like hell! They might
 think so, but John Drake would
 never stay ashore. He couldn't! What would he do? Why, he'd
 buy himself an old schooner, fit her up, and take her out. He could
 sail anything that floated, tramp,
 schooner, or square-rigger. Time was when he'd made one of the
 most rapid passages on record
 around Cape Horn, driving the an- cient, wheezing Kremlin between the Diego Ramirez Island and Cape Stiff. Yes, sir, he'd gone around the Horn with scuppers under. | decks awash, with rotten gear re- fraf xrrify %or ~, few reefs in his big spread of canvas.
 Did the greybeards of Cape Horn know John Drake? Did they?
 Man, dear, they knew him and hated him because the sturdy old shellback would twiddle stubby fin gers from a frost bitten nose al the bleak rocks that sang a melon | choly dirge for the enticement of hapless sailors and their craft; And by the lights of London
 Bridge, if the Horn couldn't get
 Johnny Drake, no lousy beach,
 combing, sousi -' mouci operating | vice president would "get" him.
 Come in, come in," roared Drake
 as a sharp rap at the door of his cabin interrupted his reveries. Captain, said the intruder,
 "I'm Brownwell. Here are my |! papers; would be good enough to see if they are in good order?'' Drake nodded his griZzled head.
 Aye, he grunted. T was told you'd be along. Are you, CT, gov-
 ernment man?"
 "SORRY TO CROWD
 YOU UP THIS WAY"
 Brownwell ignored the question.
 Sorry to crowd you up this way. Captain," he observed. Hope you'll have room for me-"
 Drake regarded the newcomer with keen, slate- blue eyes. "I'll try to fix you up ship-shape," he an- swered. Them was my ipstruc- tions. I'll get the steward on give you the second mates room and he and the third Huff can tumble in together. Steward! Hey steward, blast your eyes! On the
 run, you thieving 'idjit.' Bear a
 hand now with the mans gear!" The third day out of Brest, Cap'n Drake stumbled from his bunk at four bells, or A. M. in landsman's time. The sky. he noted, was overcast, with heavy nimbus clouds hiding the sun of dawn. An oily, following sea rolled lazy swells against the stern of the Cherokee, thrusting the heavy vessel upward with every sluggish roll. It came to Cap'n
 Drake that something was amiss.
 He didn't know what. but the hair at the base of his skull began to rise sarply. He darted through the door of his cabin and jumped into the wheelhouse. A gun, held by gaunt fo'castle hand. glammed itself against his ribs. At the wheel was Brownell.
 Be careful captain" warned Brownwell. "I'm in command and
 Meineicke," pointing to the sailor
 lis jittery. It would be unfortun-
 ate if you were killed"
 | Drake gasped and prepared to
 unleash the roaring "dipsy' voice
 that had been heard above a thou
 sand gales, when the gun again
 pressed against his side.
 "Wondering where the mates