The Argosy, August 1914 — page 27: what you’re looking at

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

NOBODY LOVES A LOSER. peeled,” the aged salt warned. “ He's ail grit to set his traps off the island, and I’m afeard—lI’n afeard.”’ He was prevented from elaborating on his apprehensions by a stmmons from a stalwart, brown-skinned youth who had brought the Polly Ann from her mooring to the side of the dock, where he held the catboat steady. “Better let me go with you, Jess,” he suggested in low tones. “The wind’s fair and I guess the gale’s blown out, but there’ll be a powerful sea running. Don’t seem right your starting out this way.” “Oh, I'll be all right, Aleck,”” the girl returned confidently. “You know that I’ve had some experience in sailing a cat.” ‘‘ None better in these parts,’ Aleck admitted. ‘“ Still, a woman—” ‘““Good-by, Amy,” Jessica interrupt- ed, throwing her arms around her friend. ‘Had a lovely time. Come over as soon as you can. Good-by, everybody.” “Keep your peak down and your mainsheet free,” Captain Eb bellowed after her as she dropped down the harbor. Aleck and the rest chipped in with miscellaneous advice, most of which was lost by the boat’s gathering impetus. “A reo’lar duck,” was Captain Eb’s comment as he resumed his seat on the upturned skiff at the head of the cock. “There ain't another woman any- wheres I'd have let start out for Bar’try this afternoon. But Jess’ll get there.” That was Jessica’s own idea, al- though as she steered skilfully past the end of the bar at the harbor’s mouth and caught the surge outside she real- ized that she had underestimated its dimensions. But the Polly Ann set- tled reassuringly to her task, and the girl in the stern of the boat, intent on tiller and sheet, had no time to nurse fears. It was a fair way from New Galilee to Barratry, twelve miles out to sea. An hour and a hali—two hours at the 2A 17 outside—should see her safe at home again. had blown out, if the wind continued fair, and accidents of the sea were avoided, As she had reminded Amy, her in- tention had been to ,return to her grandfather on Tuesday. She had awakened that morning to find warring elements in possession of the world. She promised herself to start on Wednesday, and on Thursday, but the storm still held. Mid-afternoon of Friday had brought with it a subsidence of storm so sudden as to be almost startling. Jessica cocked an eye at the sky. The signs there spoke of an exhausted gale, but hinted at fog. She did not care about that, for at her feet was her compass-box, and she knew every current between Barratry and New Galilee almost as well as she knew the fingers on her hand. She would not go so far as to say she could steer the Polly Ann into the old harbor with her eyes shut, but she would aver that with the aid of a com- pass she could reach port without hav- ing departed a half-mile from the straight course. Jessica Hooper could not remember the time when she had not known how to sail a boat. Her chubby fingers had clasped the tiller in infancy, and she had grown to the art as naturally as the average child takes to walking. It had come in especially handy this year, with her grandfather fishing off Barratry. But for her mastery of the Polly Ann, her visits to her old home at New Galilee would have been even rarer than they were. Troubled by the thought of how long she had overstayed her promised time, she nursed the wind, pushing the catboat for all the speed that was in her. She had covered a little more than half of the reach between the mainland ard the island when the fog shut down. It was as if the Polly Ann had sailed into the confines~of-a dense COMICOO® C S That was, if the gale really (C@)