The Argosy, August 1914 — page 29: what you’re looking at

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

NOBODY -LOVES A LOSER. Ann like an eggshell. It was signifi- cant that as Jessica pulled the tiller toward her and let out the sheet, run- ning before the wind, the color in her cheeks retained all its brilliancy and her pulse remained. steady as clock- work. In a moment she was clear of the driftage, and set her brain to consider- ing whether she ought to investigate or continue on her homeward course. She could not imagine what had hap- pened. Two possibilities suggested themselves. The first, that there had been a fire at sea, she dismissed, for the stuff she had seen bore no traces of flame’s cor- rosion. The remaining theory was that some ancient hulk had been the victim of a collision. It seemed i1m- possible that disintegration would have followed such a mishap, but she had seen craft continued in the coast- wise trade long after their years of usefulness, which looked as if they would crumble into fragments at a touch. | If such a thing had happened it was her duty to turn to the assistance of possible survivors. Without waiting to weigh arguments, she came about and headed toward the source of the wreckage as far as she could deter- mine it. Presently she touched the outer edge of the driftwood stream again. It presented a curious spectacle. There were pieces of wood of all sizes, from kindling to a great beam with the planking still attached, the entire mass as big as the side of a house. All her skill was required to follow up this current and at the same time avoid entanglement. After tacking back and forth several times, she saw _a sight which made her heart, beat faster. It looked at first like a snarl of dun- nage nailed to some boards. The fog, true to her prophecy, had already thinned a little, however, and Jessica made out the head and shoulders of a man. 19 At the same moment she became aware of a big hulk which-might have been a rudder-post plowing toward the Polly Ann. For an instant the fate of the catboat and its mistress hung in the balance. With a motion lightning quick, yet unhurried, Jessica pulled in her sheet, swung the tiller, and the threatening monster was hurled past, barely grazing the Polly Ann. This was clearly a dangerous posi- tion for her to hold. The attack she had just escaped might be repeated at any minute. Yet there was a man in midstream of the débris—a human being in distress, if still alive, whose plight commanded assistance. Jessica brought her strong, white teeth to- gether in a way which would have reminded those who knew him of her grandfather Hooper, and drove straight for the restless, hurrying driftage. The plan sprang full-fledged into her mind. She would work into the center of the mass and, if the Polly Ann remained unharmed so long, float down the wind in the same direction as the dangerous timbers were moving. There was less risk in striking them head-on than in being smashed on the quarter. Alert in ‘every nerve and muscle, she worked her way farther and far- ther toward the center. Now with a quick shift of the tiller she quartered the flow, and again pushed ahead at right angles. All of the time, unable to watch it, she kept in mind as well as she could the position of the mass on which she had caught sight of the man. Judging herself at length to have gone as far as the occasion demanded, she let her sheet run and headed down the wind. She was glad now of the dropped peak, which lessened the speed of the catboat. The wind, too, had fallen a little. The keenest attention to business was still necessary, and more than once she avoided running the nose of the Polly Ann plump into something more COMMICOO® S (C@