The Argosy, August 1914 — page 63: what you’re looking at

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

NOBODY... LOVES. A -LOSER. Yes, that was the course of wisdom. He could come back quickly. The life- giving air of the sea, the hard work, and abundantwfare had made him a better man than ever he had been in the old days, even when rigidly train- ing. He flexed his muscles proudly, conscious of his strength. Another thought supervened. To leave Barratry and resume his former occupation at once would be unfair to Captain Zed and his mates. He must quit his present job a winner before seeking another. The fishing season would carry into mid-autumn. | Then, when the traps were taken out and Captain Zed returned to New Galilee, he himself would hunt up a manager and regain his withered lau- rels, After that he could offer himself to Jessica, with full hands and a re- established name, tell her the whole story, and ask for her love. Having reached his decision, he arose and continued his stroll. In deference to Captain Zed’s wishes, the gang save Harley Whaley kept fairly close to their own quarters the better to avoid clashes with the enemy. A special dispensation was made in Har- ley’s case because of his deep-seated taste for love-making. It happened, therefore, that Jack had never explored Barratry beyond the fishing village. He walked slowly, studying his surroundings with what- ever interest they deserved, all his thoughts set against the background of Jessica. That was a picturesque old stone wall with the vines trailing over it— and she was fond of flowers. All nice girls liked flowers, and as she was the nicest of all nice girls she must be particularly fond of them. What a view of the ocean this headland gave! And her slender, boyish figure would fit admirably into the scene. So his rudderless reflections ran un- til, having rounded the corner and pro- gressed some distance down the quar- ter-mile decline, he was brought to a sudden pause by the sight of a girl, _sciously crept into his voice. 53 who was quite obviously not Jessica, seated on a stone by the roadside, her face buried in her hands. She had not heard Jack’s approach. The spot where she sat was perhaps a mile from Oldham, where the big hotels were. He wondered why a young woman so distinctly of the summer-boarder class had come so far aheld at this hour of the morning. An instant later, catching the sound of his footfall, she raised her face. The two stared at one another word- lessly for the space of a deep breath. Jack was first to recover from his surprise. He had halted, but now made as if to move on without re- mark. The girl forbade. “ Jack Garrett!” she cried. He stopped again and gazed at her wonderingly. It was plain enough she had been crying. The tears stood in her eyes even yet, and had channeled lines through her complexion. The time had been, and that not long before, when the mere sight of the young woman so_ unexpectedly encountered would have given Jack Garrett's pulses a throb. Yet it was without surprise he found himself in- sensible at the present moment to the appeal of her pretty, small - featured face and languorous eyes. He viewed these once potent charms as dispas- sionately as he would have contem- plated a dead fish. What her armament failed to ac- complish, however, the spectacle of her distress did. He replied: “ Is there anything I can do for you, Vesta?” It was at this point in their inter- view that Jessica, strolling in Jack’s wake, rounded the corner of the stone wall. “Jack,” the girl repeated, “‘ how did you come here? ”’ “Never mind that,’ he answered. ‘It is stranger to me to find you here. You seem in trouble. If I can help—” The note of sympathy had uncon- Perhaps it was that which brought Vesta to COMMICLOOKS (C@