The Argosy, August 1914 — page 57: what you’re looking at

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

NOBODY LOVES A LOSER. some degree, bluefish had “ struck in,” finding a ready market. At Barratry, as in other places, there existed a working agreement among the fishermen with the object of maintaining prices by keeping the market from being flooded. Thus there was posted at the steamboat wharf every afternoon a notice of the number of barrels of fish each trap- owner should send out on the morrow. The allotment was proportioned to net area. At the beginning of the sea- son there had been an attempt to keep Captain Hooper from any participa- tion whatever in the agreement. Ob- jection had been overcome by his threat, seconded by the steamboat captain’s—the latter not an islander— to send .as much more than his right- ful share every day as he could catch. So Captain Zed had received a place along with Simcox, Whittle, and other avowed enemies. Longer-headed than they, now that fish were growing scarce, Captain Zed was filling his or- ders by drawing on his pound while the others fell under their allotment. The pound was in essence a closed trap anchored in a safe place offshore. In it had been put the surplus of fish caught beyond the day’s requirements. It was, in fact, a fish-bank, the own- er’s drafts on which were honored as long as the account held. The rewards returned by this exhi- bition of thrift added envy to the other hostile sentiments entertained by the islanders against Captain Zed and his men. Nevertheless, for some time after the filching of the propeller and Jack Garrett’s battle with Buck Potter—if that is a battle in which the punishment is received by only one party—peace reigned. When his turn came around again Jack had been a little fearful of’ being made an exception to the general or- der. He sensed, although nothing had been said, a feeling of distrust of his history of what had happened the other night when the propeller had been stolen. Herb Mann’s laconic reminder 47 that he was sentinel for the night he accepted, therefore, with an unreason- able emotion of gratitude. “ Don’t let ’em hand it to you again, Jack,” Herb warned. “You know what Buck Potter’s p’isen means.”’ “Pll know what to expect this time,’ Jack returned. It was destined to be a more mem- orable night than he had figured on, however, for another reason than the Simcoxes or Whittleses. Having taken a turn through the already sleeping fishing hamlet to assure him- self that everything was as it should be, he had found a seat on Captain Zed’s dock, and was pensively watch- ing the moon rise out of the ocean when, as a week earlier, he discovered Jessica Hooper at his side. “T remembered it was your night,” she acknowledged. “I’m a spotter. I came out to see that you were not asleep.” “ Otherwise it would have been ‘Shoot him at sunrise,’ I suppose?” “Of course,’ > she said: —-“* "Fhat's the only penalty that fits the crime. But, seriously, what I came for was to show you something.” With the words she placed in his hands a little bundle of what seemed raveling rope-ends. Jack turned them over in perplexity. - Well?” he asked. “ Have you seen them before? ” *T don’t know,” he replied doubt- fully. “If you found my _ initials worked into any of them—” “Let me tell you,” she interrupted. “Only yesterday grandfather told me the whole story of a week ago to-night —what you had told him about having been shot at and tied up. He talks over things with me to get my advice. He wanted to know whether I thought you should be put on patrol again. You know what I thought, because you are here. “It was an odd story, though, as you must admit — odd that Peter Gomez failed to find any sign of your having been in the shanty. Grandfather said CORMIGCLOOOKS (C@)