Adventure Magazine Cover, April 1916 — page 89: what you’re looking at

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

Dory-Mates fishing skipper. ‘‘Thar’s a Novy named Collins what’s lookin’ for a dory-mate. Maybe you know him? Comes from Anchorville.” “Collins? West Collins?” grunted An- derson with a savage look in hiseyes. “‘T’ll be —— ef I’d go dory-mates with that skunk.” ‘To himself he muttered! ‘Him —of all men.” Captain Davidson shrugged his shoulders. “Don’t matter,’ he said. ‘Plenty o’ men lookin’ for chances these days. Col- lins’ll git a dory-mate ’thout much trouble. I cal’lated, seein’ you two was from th’ same place, ye’d be glad to git together.” Anderson’s face changed quickly. “T’ll go with him, Skipper,” he said with an engaging smile. ‘‘He’s a good scout, but I was sore on him for a little matter. He’s a good man in a dory an’ I’ll be glad to mate up with him. Where is he now? Aboard th’ vessel, ye say? Allright, Cap, I’ll ship.” Collins was sitting on the Se/dovia’s cabin house, overhauling a tub of haddocking trawl when Anderson jumped aboard. ‘‘Flullo, Westley, boy!” cried Tom heartily as he held out his hand. ‘‘Jest came acrost an’ h’ard from th’ skipper you was lookin’ for a dory-mate. I cal’late you ’n’ I will make a pretty good pair in a dory. What d’ye say, West?” 7 The other grasped the proffered hand an assented heartily. ‘Sure thing—bully! I’m more’n glad ye kem aboard. I was for goin’ uptown an’ lookin’ around for a dory-mate, but you’re a home-town feller an’ jest th’ man.”’ “Tl go git my clothes-bag an’ tick down an’ see ye later. How many tubs does he rig?” “Eight to a dory,” replied Westley. “Humph! American style. Hard fish- in’, I reckon,” said Anderson heartily. ‘Waal, Westley, Ical’late you ’n’ I kin stand the racket aboard these hard-drivin’ market fishermen. I’m a hound for work myself. We'll git along fine. Solong! I’ll be down in a while an’ help ye overhaul some gear.”’ Collins continued his work, whistling hap- pily at the thought of having Tom Anderson for a dory-mate. As he had been away from Anchorville all Summer, he was un- aware of the relations that had formerly ex- isted between Elsie Conover and Anderson. He knew that the latter was acquainted with Elsie, but then Tommy Anderson was a devil with all the Anchorville girls. So 87 while Westley crooned and whistled to him- self, thinking of Elsie Conover away back home in Nova Scotia, Tom Anderson strode cursefully to his boarding-house with black hate in his heart. “Th’ silly swab!” he muttered through clenched teeth. ‘‘Fancy th’ likes o’ him grabbin’ Elsie! Th’ boob! An’ to tell that silly mug, Jack Hooper, all about it, an’ Jack to put th’ hook into me by th’ tellin’ of it. ‘West Collins has cut ye out with Elsie Conover,’ says he, with his smug face laugh- in’ as he spun th’ yarn afore his sister. Thought maybe that Jen Hooper would stand a better chance with Elsie out of th’ way. An’ when I telephoned Elsie! ‘He’s to ask me again in th’ Spring,’ says she. “Towards th’ last 0’ March. Westley’ll be back then an’ I'll know my mind which 0’ youse it'll be.’ Th’ big mug, —— him! Ay, to with him!” So vociferous had he become in his de- nunciatory epithets that he spoke his thoughts aloud, and two or three people looked at him strangely. His facility in concealing his feelings came uppermost; and while hate consumed him inwardly, yet outwardly he carried an air of heartiness which belied the murderous thoughts fermenting in. his brain. Carrying his bag and mattress to the ves- sel, a half-formed notion raced through his mind. It was a sinister notion—a black- hearted idea—but there was nothing of it in his voice as he hailed his dory-mate. ““Hey ye go, Westley, boy! Catch a-holt o’ my dunnage. I’m all ready t’ give ye a hand now, ol’ dory-mate!”’ II __ Mx THE Seldovia put to sea and fished on George’s Bank. As dory-mates, , Collins and Anderson got along fa- mously, and the rest of the gang remarked that Collins had picked up a dandy partner. Anderson not only did his share of the work, but seemed eager to help Collins in every way. In the dory, Anderson was for doing all the trawl-hauling—the hardest and heav- iest work—and his dory-mate often pro- tested. ‘You must let me do my share, Tom,” he would say. “You’re doing all your work an’ part o’ mine too. I’m able enough, an’ ye mustn’t do it. Not but what I take it as kindly of ye, Tom. It CoMmicboooks (CO