The Argosy, August 1914 — page 105: what you’re looking at

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

NOBODY LOVES A LOSER. the girl. “No, don’t look at me. I[ can tell it just as well if you keep your eyes the other way.”’ In lieu of looking at her, he took the hand which had interrupted his speech. She allowed it to lie in his, resting on his shoulder. ““T’m—lI’m ashamed to confess it, Jack,” she said softly. “I was jealous.” It took a half-minute for the force of the admission to seep into his fatigue - poisoned brain. Then its meaning reached him. And then— she was in his arms, her lips tos his. “ Jessica!”’ he cried softly. ‘“ You were jealous! Why, dear?” This after that first embrace, which needed no answered question. Both hands were his now, and her face looked into his with shy pride. “Why were you jealous?” he re- peated when she hesitated to reply. “Of whom? I don’t understand.” “It was silly of me, Jack—unpar- donable,” she admitted. “Of that girl in there.” : * Vesta Dawn—Mrs. Horlock, I mean?” he said, more mystified than ever. “Why, what do you mean, darling? How could you have been jealous of her?” His mind flew back to that old re- lationship which had been severed consequent on his last disastrous ring appearance. Jessica could not have heard of that. “Do you remember a week ago last Sunday, Jack?” she asked, burying her face on his shoulder, “A week ago Sunday—yes.” “When you went for a walk along the cliff road?” : “And interrupted Butch Horlock. I remember. He paid for his indis- cretion.” “ Before you interrupted him. Far- ther on—you and a girl—’ A light broke. “Vesta Dawn—lI remember,” cried. ‘“ Was it that?” “Ts it proper for young men to put their arms around girls they meet be- he 95 side the highway, as you did around her?”’ she demanded primly. “I happened to see you. -That was what made me jealous.” “ But, Jess,’ he began, the scene returning. : “Oh, it’s all right now,” she broke in. “The girl herself told me all about it to-night. I forgive you this time; Jack, but don’t ever, ever let it happen again.” A little later he began an interlude of conversation. “You remember, Jess dear, how you picked me out of the ocean like a piece of driftwood?” “TI remember.” “And I told you afterward that my name was Jack Garrett? But you don’t really know who I am even now. Don’t you think you ought to, con- sidering—well, considering? ” “What difference?” she _ sighed happily. “ Besides, the girl in there told me. She said you were a fighter. I ought to have been very much shocked at that, but I wasn’t, really.’ “That is partly true. I have been a fighter. I have been a sailor, too, as I told you. I have been other things. Do you want to hear?” “Tf you want to tell me. And after you are all through it won’t have made any difference. Do you truly love me, jack” “You know I do.” “Then it wouldn’t make any dif- ference to you who I was, would it? Nor does it make any difference to me who or what you are. To me you are just—just you. What more is there to it?” He insisted, nevertheless, in laying bare the story of his life. She heard him through without. comment, from the revelation of his connection with the house of Follansby, of which she was totally ignorant, down to the latest chapter which included the in- vitation to return to the ring. When he had finished she kissed him, say- ing: “Tt isn’t so very terrible, after all. CORMICGLOOokKS (C@)