The Argosy, August 1914 — page 80: what you’re looking at

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

10 Magnificent fat fish they were, and “a snag of them,” as Harley Whaley phrased it. At sixty cents apiece re- tail, which was Herb Mann’s appraisal, they carried back to the bunk-house about three dollars’ worth to be broiled for dinner. He slept late Sunday morning, awakening finally to a sense of a duty delayed and a pleasure to be enjoyed. After a little sleepy cogitation it came to him. He sprang down from his bunk, dressed, and breakfasted thoughtfully. His companion fishermen were loafing outsidé as a week before. Anse Bur- dick offered to accompany him on his walk, but he rebuffed him with the statement that it was a matter of busi- ness he had on hand. Then he started off toward Oldham. But after cross- ing the marsh he left the highway and turned to the beach which was spread along the foot of the cliffs. This was the hour he had been look- ing forward to for seven long days. The pressing question was whether it would bring him his desire. If Butch Horlock had employed the beach as exercise ground one Sunday, he was likely to take his run there an- other. And Jack Garrett was eager to explain the cause of and apologize for his hasty departure on a previous Sab- bath morning. He walked along the sand for some distance, impatient of the delay until he remembered that the day was yet young and he would probably have to wait. He employed his time by study- ing the possibilities of various battle- grounds. The tide was falling, leaving a wide floor of closely packed sand. It lacked spring, but otherwise served the pur- pose admirably. He tested it with feet and fingers, confirming this judgment. It was about three-quarters ebb, and he had begun to fear it would turn be- fore the time came, when he saw a jogging figure approaching far down the beach. A little later he knew _ it was the man he had come to meet. THE ARGOSY. The Butcher spied him while still a long way off. His pace quickened, if anything, at the sight. He had puzzled a good deal during the week over the Navigator's unforeseen defection, reaching the conclusion that the knock- out he himself had administered and his manner of life since had shaken his courage. tle more than half expected to see him turn tail now—climb the cliff, jump into the ocean, or in some other manner seek escape in flight. “Well, see who’s here,” he greeted Jack. “ The little canary bird again. Does your folks know you're out?” Jack observed with a touch of ad- miration that despite his long run the Butcher’s breathing was regular and unforced; his bellows were clearly in good condition. So much the better. He was sure of his own this time. He could afford to be, as he was, almost affectionate in his greeting. “ Hello, Butcher!” he returned to the other’s taunt. “ There’s a little matter yet unsettled between us—two or three of them, in fact. I owe you an apology for running away last Sun- day. I'll tell you why now or later, just as you say.” “Whaddo you want?” growled Horlock. “I’m kind o’ sick of you, if you'd like to know. Now you run along or [’Il—” “That’s just what I came for, Butch,” Jack replied. “I knew you'd feel that way. And you're quite right, when a man breaks in on your training like this. So let’s begin where we left off last Sunday. Or would you like to rest up a bit first?” The Butcher looked at him, puzzled. He could not yet make certain that his old rival proposed to confront him with bare fists. The businesslike way in which Jack threw off his coat almost convinced him. “So you’ve got to have it, have you?” he sneered. “ Or are you goin’ to beat it again? I’ve seen fellers like you that couldn’t be held in a ring with anything short of iron bars.” “T don’t blame you, Butch,” said CORMICMOOOKS (C@