The Argosy, August 1914 — page 42: what you’re looking at

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

32 | THE ARGOSY. keep away from Carroll’s place after the way Elmer Trask got beat up,” broke in Herb Mann’s deep, rich bass. Herb was number one man of the Hooper gang, Cap’n Zed’s first lieu- tenant, and what he said carried weight. “Tfonest, Herb, I wa’n’t loafing around there or nothing,” Harley ex- cused himself. “’—T'was ten o'clock when I got started for home—” “His girl turned him out,” Anse put in. “« And,’ thinks I, ‘it’s a long walk and there’s noxharm in just one glass of beer and Cap'n Zed won't mind.’ You wouldn’t hurt his feelins by tellin’ on me, would you? ” “Cap’n Zed don’t care if you drink a barl of beer,’ Herb returned. “Only thing he don’t want is any excuse for trouble with th’ islanders. They’s been enough already. I guess we wort none of us tell on you this time, Harl, seein’ you got caught up with so, but don’t let it happen again, that’s all” Harley stuffed half a biscuit in Gis mouth gratefully and escaped through the door just in time to dodge one of Anse Burdick’s barbed references to fellers that called on girls. “Well, boys?” said Herb Mann, with an inquiring glance around. “ By Cripes, them are good biscuit,” sighed Charlie Hinkley, pushing back his plate regretfully. “I dunno but what I'll have to let my belt out a notch before pulling on a trap.” “Youll get to remind folks of a sea-robin when you tickle his belly if you don’t take somethin’ for that ap- petite of yours, Charlie,” declared Anse. “He himself was the last man from the table, following the gang with the shattered remnant of a cruller in his hand. The east was translticently oray, promise of a perfect day, as they set out m the broad-beamed launch, with the work-boats towing astern. ‘The sea, both within and beyond the point, was like glass—like molten glass, with an oily, rhythmic heave which might have disturbed less accustomed stom- achs. But the only regret these sturdy souls felt was that their capacities were limited. “Pull the gill net this mornin’, cap’n?”’ asked Herb Mann from his post at the wheel in the bow. “Guess we better, Herb,” Captain Hooper agreed. “ First off we'll take the number one trap. That’s on our way to the gill net.” Twenty minutes brought them along- side the trap. Charley Hinkley re- mained on the launch, with the captain and Herb Mann. ‘The others took to the work-boats. Each had his defi- nitely assigned task and place. The captain’s and Herb Mann’s work was to scoop the fish out of the trap with the long-handled pole-net, and the “ gaft hook,” as the fishermen called it, for the, heavier specimens. The two dories went to the far corners of the trap and began pursing. For the benefit of the uninitiate it may be explained that a trap-net is a mesh-bag reaching deep into the water —an equilateral mesh- bag with sides fifty feet long. : From one corner stretches the leader, a wall of netting several hun- dred feet in length. This is set across a current. Wandering fish, singly or in schools according to their habit, strike the leader and, nosing their way along, pass through a funnel-shaped opening into the trap proper. There they remain until helped out by the fishermen. For although the upper edges of the trap are level with the water, being buoyed by cork-floats and anchored at the corners, the im- prisoned catch lacks either the power or the wit, perhaps~ both, to leap the barrier and escape. Three weeks had passed, and Jack Garrett felt himself a fixture in his new berth. Having accepted it on an impulse he had never tried to analyze, it was the more gratifying that it had proved so much to his taste. Little by little the memories of COmMICLOOCKKS. CO