The Argosy, August 1914 — page 99: what you’re looking at

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

NOBODY LOVES A LOSER. than average profitable season. Also it was highly gratifying that the hos- tility of the islanders had been turned into diplomatic intercourse, if not actual friendship. Buck Potter, the most implacable | enemy of all, was avowedly a pro- . foreigner, although that was of less account to Captain Zed than the fact that he had been able to win recogni- tion of his rights in his fishing outfit on Barratry. With that white elephant off his hands, he could carry on his business from the mainland another season with a mind at rest. On the day after the naval engage- ment at her grandfather’s pound, Jes- sica had taken it into her head to walk to Oldham. She was inspired to this partly by the feeling of truce in the air, which guaranteed her against an- noyance, and more by a desire to get away from the eulogies Captain Zed felt inclined to pay to Jack Garrett. ““T tell ye, Jess,” he said, “’tain’t every barge hand’d risk his life to get out a man that was tangled up in a pound net. ‘Specially a feller like Buck Potter. It’s something I wouldn't like to have to do myself.” “Nonsense, grandfather,’ she re- torted. “ There isn’t a man in the gang, from you down to Jim Tarkis, that would have hesitated, and you know it as well as I do.” ‘““Mebbe so,” he admitted grudging- ly. “But anyway, he’s th’ one that done it, ain’t he? - You got to give him credit for that.” Her knowledge that it was, in truth, necessary to give him credit for that was powerless to render the fact more palatable. about Jack Garrett as little as possible. In time she might be able to erase him altogether from her memory. Thus she tried to deceive herself. Yet each day her heart was sorer, her wound more raw. ‘This Jack Garrett, unknown waif she had rescued from a hungry sea and set on his feet, had treated her as a light of love. It was hard to forget. She was trying to think: 89 The approaching storm warned her that it was time to return. She set out briskly, but the tempest broke ere she had covered a third of her journey. To such an outdoor girl as Jessica Hooper, thunder, lightning, and tor- rential rains were void of terror. She hesitated for a moment, considering whether it were better to seek shelter or continue through the downpour. The nearest dwelling, a farmhouse, stood half a mile down the road. The storm had burst so suddenly that she was drenched to the skin in a moment. There was nothing to be gained by hunting a protective roof now, so she shrugged her shoulders, laughed a lit- tle, and bent her head to the gale. | The warring clouds seemed to cen- ter over the island. Heaven’s artillery was rallied for a cannonade. Peals of thunder succeeded one another in a continuous chorus punctuated by ear- splitting crashes. On the heels of one such outburst a woman's scream quite close at hand’ broke on Jessica’s ears. She looked around in surprise, unable to deter- mine whence it came. At the moment she was exactly abreast of what Barratry Islanders know as the old Pelkey place. A farm- house had stood here once, twenty feet back from the highway. Only its cel- lar hole was left to mark the site. In what had been the front yard were a half dozen decaying maples, of themselves a landmark on a _ coast where trees are scarce. The shriek Jessica heard originated, she decided, in the front yard of the Pelkey place. She entered through the gap where once a gate had swung, and behind the remnants of the fence, overgrown with vines, found a woman lying flat on the ground, her face hid- den in her hands. “What is the trouble?” Jessica in- quired, laying a hand on her shoulder. The woman shuddered, but kept her face hidden. She was trembling vio- lently. She spoke again, but the only response was a long, quivering groan. GComichdooks (C@