Adventure Magazine Cover, April 1916 — page 91: what you’re looking at

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

Dory-Mates “Say, old man, I’m sorry I was guilty o’ sich a lubber’s trick. I jest went to git some grub from th’ cook for a second an’ I took a turn with th’ painter, thinkin’ she’d be all right fora moment. Ish’d ha’ known better, an’ ’tis bitter sorry I am that I sh’d ha’ risked th’ life 0’ my old dory-mate. Ye’ll forgive me, West, for ’twould ha’ bin a sore day for me sh’d I have lost ye.” ‘Say nawthin’ about it, Tom,”’ answered Collins with a laugh. ‘“‘‘A miss is as good asa mile,’ an’ we all make mistakes sometimes. Too bad we lost th’ gear a “T’ll pay for that!” said Anderson hastily. “No, yedon’t, boy. We'll half up as good dory-mates should. Say no more about it.”’ Anderson went to his bunk in the peak and raged inwardly. “It was a lubber’s trick all right,” he growled to himself. ‘“‘But, —— him, I’ll get him yet!” oat and the windy March days worried the fishing-fleets and had them ly- ing at anchor in shelter harbors when they should have been fishing for the great Lent- en market. The Seldovia had made a good Winter of it, but Tim Davidson was anxious to make a high-line haddocking season and took more risks in setting dories out than would most skippers. Anderson, with wonderful strength of mind, kept up his heartily friendly relations with Collins and effectually disarmed all suspicion. So well did he play his game that Westley looked upon him as his best chum and even confided in him his prospects for the future. One can imagine the tumult which raged in Anderson’s mind as he lis- tened to Collins’s clumsily worded confiden- ces about Elsie Conover. ‘We'll ha’ made a good stock this Winter, Tom,” confided Westley, “‘and I cal’late ’ll hev enough to get married on. I’m for buyin’ that small pink o’ John Anson’s and T’ll go hake fishin’ in the bay so’s to be near home an’ her.” Anderson puffed hard at his pipe and nodded interestedly. ‘Sure, Westley, boy, that’s the grand idea. No married man sh’d go off Bank fishin’. It’s risky, an’ ye’re away from home too much.” He spoke the words easily, but his whole nature longed to beat, kick, tear and even kill the man he addressed. JANUARY and February passed 89 With hate burning in his heart, Anderson went on watch that night and took the first trick at the wheel. Collins paced the lee quarter, keeping a look-out. It was a black dark night with plenty of wind, and the Seldovia was storming along on her way to the Bank, plunging and pitching through the gloom. Collins in his pacing had a habit of stand- ing for a minute or so at the after-end of the cabin-house near the wheel. Anderson, with a calculating eye, noticed this—he had noticed it for weeks—and he pondered over a villainous plan as he steered. ‘“‘Next time he stands aft with his back to me I'll give him a shove,”’ muttered Ander- son coolly glancing at the low rail. “It won’t take much to push him over that, and I kin swear he was for’ard when he went over th’ side.”’ Collins continued his pacing and Ander- son watched him like a cat and muttered to himself: “He'll make four turns an’ then stop. That’s one—there’s two— three — four. He’s stoppin’. Now for it!” He let the wheel spokes go and nerved himself for the push on the broad oil- skinned back of the man three feet in front of him. Collins was crooning a little song to himself and standing with his mittened hands behind his back. Anderson tensed his muscles for the shove that would send his rival headlong into the roaring void of sea. ‘‘Wheel thar! How’s she headin’?” It was the skipper’s voice from out. the cabin gangway and Anderson grabbed the spokes again in sudden fright, and in the reaction forgot the course. “Wheel thar! How’ssheheadin’?” The skipper came half-way up the steps and shouted louder. ‘“‘Er—er —ah—west b’south-half-south, sir!” blurted Anderson wildly. “That ain’t what I gave th’ watch,” growled the skipper coming on deck and glancing in the binnacle, “and you ain’t steerin’ that. You’ve let her run off. She’s headin’ sou’west. Bring her up west half south and watch yer steerin’. you fellers don’t seem to know th’ compass yet.” And he went below. Collins looked hard at his dory-mate. ‘Say, old man, you’re lookin’ sick. Gim- me that wheel an’ you go down for’ard an’ Some 0’ ~ hev a mug o’ tea. West half south! I got ye, Tom, so go ahead!” COmicboolks.conn