The Argosy, August 1914 — page 68: what you’re looking at

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

58 hurt, and there are no rocks to crack your thick skull on. Now ’’—his voice became savage—" strip.” With every indication of willing- ness, Butch Horlock threw his cap aside and began to peel off his sweater. The look of incredulity with which he had received Jack’s first invitation altered to one of doubt. “Do you tink you can stand up wid me?” he asked. ‘“* Why, you big hunk o’ putty, PIl muss you all out o’ shape. What’s it all about, anyway? ” “You remember the last fight and what preceded it, Butch?” Jack asked gently. “Then there’s a blow you handed me on Broadway and got away with. We'll cast up our ac—” His promise stopped uncompleted. Over Horlock’s shoulder by some trick of vision he had caught sight of a phenomenon out there on the quiet face of the sea which drew him out of him- self. The Butcher swung nervously to look behind. ‘What is it?” he asked. Jack made no reply, but continued staring, fixed as a statue, with one coat- sleeve half off. “ Come on. urged. Still Jack remained at gaze. That which he saw amply accounted for his sudden abstraction. A half-mile offshore, it may have been, the glassy surface of the water had been broken by a sudden disturb- ance born from below. It was like the patter of rain-drops on a mill-pond, with the difference that the area of the phenomenon was strictly limited. From where Jack stood it was im- possible to tell how much territory was included in the field of the disturbance. It might have been one acre or five. But the sight had broken in on his anticipated pleasure. For that break- ing of the water was caused, as he knew, by mackerel—an immense school of mackerel; more than all, mackerel out of season, when they commanded a price. Duty urged him to summon I’m all ready,” Horlock THE ARGOSY. the gang and make a try for the school without an instant’s delay. At any moment somebody else who understood might see and set forth in pursuit. Should he run and tell Cap- tain Zed? Or should he remain here and fight? In an inconceivably brief space Jack had fought it out with himself and won a great victory. It all came to pass between the time of slipping his coat half off and slipping it back again. Without a word he bolted, leaped the stone wall, and tore down the road. His old rival stood a minute looking bewilderedly after the fleeing figure. Little by little a grin overspread his face. “Th’ big stiff!” he murmured caressingly. “ Th’ mutt! I allus said he had a streak of yellow big enough for an ottermobile race, and dis proves it. If I meet up wid him agin—” Jack reached the fishing village with- out seeing Jessica. This was explained by the fact that, having gained the foot of the hill, she had shrunk back into the shrubbery to have a quiet little cry be- fore rejoining her grandfather. Shat- tered faith complicating the growing pains of love operates to the produc- tion of such demonstrations. Buck Potter and other members of the Simcox gang, loafing around their bunk-house, saw his haste and won- dered. Buck went around the corner of the house to follow his flight and, returning, announced his conviction that something was up. Straightway, as by unanimous consent, the whole force adjourned to the harbor front. Captain Zed sat in his sunlit com- bination of kitchen, dining and living- room, smoking and worrying up a headache over Jessica’s balance-sheets, when Jack burst in on him. He took out his pipe and looked up in surprise at the youth’s unconventional entry. ‘““ Mackerel!” Jack cried. “Mackerel? What d’you mean?” ‘A big school of them—half a mile off Bleeson Point. I saw them from the cliff.” ECORNICLOOOKS (C@)