The Argosy, August 1914 — page 41: what you’re looking at

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

NOBODY LOVES A LOSER. dark in the bunk-room save for the in- adequate illumination thrown by a kerosene lamp through the open door of the general assembly-room beyond. “ Beats all how much earlier three o’clock is some mornin’s than ’tis oth- ers,’ came from a shadowy figure sit- ting on the edge of the berth below Jack’s. It was Harley Whaley speak- ing. “Trouble with you is you can’t keep away from the girls, Harl,”’ volleyed Anse Burdick. “If you throw any more bluefish overboard to-day like you did yest’day morning, Cap’n Zed’ll be in your hair.” “Oh, you pshaw!”’ rejoined Harley. “Just because my foot slipped when I was gaffin’ him you think it’s girls. What’s girls got to do with bluefish, anyway?” It was the customary three o'clock in the morning badinage. Jack let himself down, drew on trousers and flannel shirt over the underclothing in which he had slept, and squeezed his feet into the heavy fishing-boots. The salt-encrusted clothing was soggy with the moisture it had been coliecting from the air all night, but he knew it would soon warm up and be comfortable enough, and the ham and eggs and coffee shouted to be eaten. If Jim Tarkis had taken the added trouble to mix up a batch of biscuit happiness would be complete. His toilet was finished with a duck in the pail of ice-cold water on the bench outside. He clomped back into the assembly-room and took his place at table. “ Um-um—hot Whaley was exclaiming. down here, Anse.” Anse Burdick removed a supply for himself and urged his neighbors to do likewise before complying with Har- ley’s request. “Better grab a handful, Jack,” he warned. “When a feller that’s been out to see his girl the night before gets started on hot biscuits—” biscuits!’ Harley “Pass *em 31 He stopped suddenly with his eyes fixed on Harley’s face. His features settled into an expression of surprise which qwas not at all artificial. “Aw, let up, can’t you, Anse?” Harley complained. “ Th’ ain’t no law against goin’ to see a girl that I know of.” “ Crickety _ cripes, _ Har, struck your’’ Anse exclaimed. His question drew the attention of the others to Harley. The recipient of this attention blushed obviously even under the deep chestnut of his tan. ‘“ Wh—what d’you mean, Anse?” he stammered. “One black eye, cut on th’ other side of the face, and I dunno’s the nose is quite plumb,” Anse catalogued. “What does t’other feller look like, Harl?”’ “Oh, that?” The unfortunate tried to pass it off with an air of indif- ference. “Comin’ back last night, blacker’n th’ inside of Jonah, I got tangled up in a net dryin’ over back here a piece and th’ jeesly thing threw me Phat's au — | “That story’d do to tell a summer boarder,” was Anse’s incredulous com- ment. “ Harl, look daddy in th’ eye and tell the truth. You went over to Carroll’s place last night. You met up with some o’ these Bar’try Islanders, an’ they trimmed you. Now ain’t that sor” Harley Whaley was a poor liar. In vain he denied and expostulated. The exactitude of Anse Burdick’s guess stood confessed in his face, and was pressed home until he was compelled to tell the story. It was not greatly to his credit. “Just one glass o’ beer—that was all I had,’ he protested. “ ’T'was Bart Whipple started th’ trouble. Id ’a’ licked him good only for Buck Pot- ter butting in. Between them what could I do?” “Prob’ly you forgot, Harl, that Cap’n Zed gave orders for us all to what’s S ECOMMICLOO® (C@