The Argosy, August 1914 — page 47: what you’re looking at

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

NOBODY LOVES A LOSER. between her hands in one of the boy- ish attitudes that suited her so well. The man, lying on the dry sand at her side, was subtly stirred by the per- fume of her hair and garments. “Sometimes I+think you weren't really a barge-hand, after all,” she be- gan presently. “ Not that I have ever known many. Jerry Knoedler, who is one of Carroll’s steady customers, used to be one. But I shouldn't say you and he had much in common.” “How can you doubt the evidence of your own senses?” he _ parried. “You picked me out of the wreckage of a barge, and barges don’t carry passengers.” “That is so,’ she admitted. ‘ So you must have been a barge - hand. Why don’t you tell me it’s none of my business? Grandfather says you have the makings of a fisherman, which 1s the highest compliment he can pay. Grandfather is very much worrted,” she added in a graver tone. “Worried? How?” “It’s his business. J don’t know that I ought to tell you, but it means everything to him to succeed in his fishing off Barratry this season. All he has is tied up in his outfit.” “He has a loyal crew,” was all Jack could think of to reply. “Yes, the crew is loyal,” she replied musingly. “ Loyalty is a great thing. It’s a greater thing that it’s a skilful, courageous crew. ‘The one quality without the other is of small value.” “ Loyalty, skill, and courage are in- deed a brave trio,” Jack replied. He fell silent, his statement turning on him with a personal application. ‘The old life was vividly present to-night as a result of the vagrant newspaper paragraph he had chanced on. Wherein had he himself been found wanting? He had courage—none who knew his record could deny that. And he had skill. But without loyalty they had been, so far as Sam Levine was concerned, and consequently as bear- ing on his own career, as void of sig- nificance as sounding brass. 37 “I’m going in now — good night,” said Jessica abruptly. She was gone almost before he could jump to his feet. He concluded it was time to take another turn toward the harbor head. He stepped along noiselessly, de- pending on his ears to tell him whether any one else was astir. were wrapped in darkness. ‘The light of a candle glimmered briefly from Captain Zed’s window, and was extin- guished; from which he knew Jessica had gone to bed. An unanswered question recurred. No, he did not regret.the old life. Of the manner of his leaving it he could not say as much.. A chance to wipe out that stain would be acceptable. The air was so still he distinctly heard the hour of eleven striking from the church clock at Oldham, the vil- lage three miles away where the big hotels were. On its heels he caught the sound of a splash in the harbor. His first thought was that it was a fish breaking (water. The noise came from a point some distance ahead, in the direction of Captain Zed’s power- boat. Intuition came to his aid, telling him that the disturbance was caused by something else besides a restless fish. His duty was to find out what it was, and he started toward the har- bor’s head on a run. He had come almost abreast of the boat, moored out a quarter of a mile from shore, when his advance was arrested by the sharp crack of a weapon. Simultane- ously a bullet sang past his ear. By the merest chance he caught the flash of the firearm. It came from an abandoned and decaying one - room shanty standing a little back from the beach near the harbor head. There was little room to doubt that a deliber- ate attempt on his life had been made. Or was it merely another move in the warfare on Captain Zed—a part of the game to scare the foreigners away from these shores? It did not matter so far as the young man was COmiclbookKks The shanties ~ (C@)