The Argosy, August 1914 — page 58: what you’re looking at

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

48 he looked himself after you went to New Galilee, and I have been there, too. So this morning, while you were all out at the traps, I went over to help old Jim Tarkis, as I do sometimes. “T took advantage of the occasion to go into the bunk-room, and this is what I found under Peter Gomez’s blankets.. It looks to me like the sort of thing a man might have been tied up with and gagged, as ‘you said you were.” ® As nearly as Jack could make out in the horizontal light of the full moon, Jessica was right. She excused him from an opinion by adding: “'There’s really no way to be cer- tain, of course. My thought was that, it was something to consider. Gomez is an islander originally, you know.” “JT didn’t know,” Jack returned. “ But—I appreciate the trouble you've taken and—” “Well?” she urged as he hesitated. “ You believe the story I told, don’t you?” ) “Of course I do,” she replied heartily. ‘“‘ Now, let’s talk of other matters.” Without having been uncomfort- dbly aware of it, Jack had known nevertheless that his conduct on the night of the work-boat’s ~disablement had remained open to suspicion. As it was, Jessica’s expression: of confidence was heart-warming. He felt for her hand. It was given into: his confidingly. Emboldened, he bent closer. The spell of youth and the night was on them. She offered no resistance as, with a strong man’s reverence for girlish purity, he kissed her cheek. The next moment, however, she had vanished, soundlessly as a wraith. CHAPTER. XII. THE SHADOW OF DOUBT. Sunpay was Captain Zed’s day for posting up his books. It was the only Peter ». THE ARGOSY. time in the week when he was free from thoughts of the steamboat and city markets. Perhaps it would be more accurate to say it was Jessica’s day for posting, for the captain had a poor head for figures, and his twisted fingers were mostly thumbs when it came to hand- ling a pencil. He sat looking over her shoulder while she twisted her pretty forehead into knots over the intricacies of mathematics. “Four hunderd an’ forty-two at three cents—how mutch is that, Jess? ”’ he asked. She gave him the result. “And ice and freight. They ain’t much profit in it. Did you figger in th’ icer*’ “Yes, grandfather.” “You go ahead with your cipherin’ while I load my pipe,” fie ordered. “Seems if I could think better when I’m smokin’.” For one day in the week the fishing village cove was free from the put-put of gasoline engines and the shouts of men. A Sabbath calm enveloped everything. The Hooper gang, having finished breakfast, was taking the air on a bench at the bunk-house door. Charlie Hinkley was rigging up some black- fish gear which he vaguely expected to sell to summer boarders, and the others were criticising the way he tied his knots. “You got that sinker too fur above th’ hook, Charlie,” Anse Burdick com- mented. “T ain’t makin’ this for suckers like you that want to take bait an’ sinker both,” rejoined Charlie, who was apt at repartee. Turned on thus, Anse directed his attention to Harley Whaley, who had come. out of the house and, with a hasty “ Well, good-by, boys,” started off in the direction of Oldham. “ Hey, Harl,”. he called. “Well, what is it?” “ Be sure you come home with your wheels trackin’,” Anse counseled. o COL S Cc .TOO (C@)