The Argosy, August 1914 — page 53: what you’re looking at

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

NOBODY LOVES A LOSER. His heart rose to meet the struggle as it had always risen in the twenty- four foot ring when he found an an- tagonist stronger than he had expect- ed. One of the secrets of his prowess as a fighter had been that his cotirage was in proportion to the difficulty of his task. Encountering the head wind and the choppy sea it had kicked up, he found that it would call for the last ounce he could give the job to win back to Barratry. He had abundant reason for fatigue. His labors had begun at three o'clock the morning before, more than thirty hours, as he now remembered. ‘That period had included one full day’s work hauling trap and performing the other duties of his life as a fisherman, a night’s patrol, in the course of which he had been manhandled and 1im- prisoned, and a twelve mile row across the open ocean. All of which together constituted the reason why now, as he dug at the water, he felt a sinking of the heart. The waves slapped the sides of his dory, and the salt spray crusted his face. His hands opened in huge water blisters. New Galilee dwindled astern —dwindled and finally was lost in the haze, and Jack, tugging at his oars, gazed at the compass at his feet. At last—at last he won. Every mus- cle in his body ached, but he had played the game. Rounding the point the welcome sight of the Hooper dock greeted him, and as he guided the dory’s nose thither Herb Mann came down to meet him. ‘“ By cripes, Jack, I didn’t think you could do it,” the number one man ex- claimed. “JI didn’t, honest.” ‘Here’s the propeller to show I did,” Jack replied. “T sh’d say as much! Anse—Har- ley—call Cap’n Zed. Here’s Jack back from New Galilee.” The others came running to his call. Old Jim Tarkis waddled out with a jug of cold water, which was what Jack needed above everything. Last of all came Captain Zed and Jessica. Jack determinedly. 43 “ Young feller, here’s my hand,” he said. “I told Herb you'd have your belly full by th’ time you got t’ New Galilee, if you got there ’t all.-- An’ here you be back again before four o'clock in th’ aft’noon. If there’s any Bar’try Islander can match that record I want to see him.” “I told grandfather he was wrong,” Jessica came in. “I knew that if you set out to do it you would. And here’s my hand.”’ If anything had been needed to add to Jack Garrett’s satisfaction in his exploit—which, in truth, was quite as remarkable as the plaudits of his com-_ rades indicated—it was the girl’s ex- pression of confidence. He took the little brown paw she offered, squeezed it gratefully, and retained it until her intimation that the proprieties had been satisfied. “Buck Potter’s been askin’ around for his dory,” said Peter Gomez, who had just added himself to the. circle. ‘““Now’s a good time to take it back, because he’s working around t’other side of th’ harbor lookin’.” “Snake that propeller out, boys,” Captain Zed ordered. “ Easy, there— don’t drop it over the side. Pete, you might ’s well take the dory back where it blongs. If Buck gives any trouble, holler.” “No, Ill take it back myself,’ said “T’m the one that borrowed it.” “Ain't you tuckered enough?” the captain demanded. “Let’s see your hands. A livin’ sight!” as Jack dis- played his blistered palms. ‘“ Now some of th’ other boys will take that dory—” “T’ll finish the job,” Jack insisted. “Dory on the beach, oars under the fish-house — then [ll be ready for a mug-up and a nap.” As he drew up to the beach from which he had taken the dory a tall, heavy-shouldered man came to the wa- ter’s edge and stood waiting for him. Jack recognized Buck Potter. “What do you mean, runnin’ off CORMICGLOOOKS (C@)