The Argosy, September 1915 — page 57: what you’re looking at

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

ONE-CYLINDER SAM. The launch ranged past the eastern tip of Grenadier Island, then across toward the Canadian shore, thence up-river, Fortescue Jones fishing des- perately and bringing nothing within fifty feet of a gaff. “We're going too fast,’’ complained the fisherman. Sam turned a glance of inquiry at Rosalind. She shook her head. The launch held its pace. Another _ half - hour scarce a word spoken aboard. Rosa- lind was bored to desperation. Her experiment in alchemy was the flat- test kind of failure. She turned upon young Jones with sudden and unde- served severity. “ [ should think it would be exceed- ingly tiresome to catch nothing,” she said. “Tt is,” he assented hastily. “Then why do you fish?” “Why — why, I thought it was a fishing-party !”’ “Without fish?” ‘“|’ve had half a dozen strikes.” She sighed and flashed a savage look at the boatman. He grinned.- “Shall we turn back?” she asked Morton, who was stroking his mus- tache in a preoccupied manner. For answer he pointed toward a power-boat almost astern and follow- ing at a rapid rate. ‘“ Seems, by Jove, as if they wished passed with to speak with us,” he said. “ A chap just waved.” Rosalind studied the oncoming craft. It carried a small British en- sign at the stern. Four men were standing ‘in the cockpit, staring in- tently. As she watched one of them signaled. “Stop the boat!” she commanded. Sam obeyed, then turned for the first time to observe the pursuing ves- sel, now close aboard. As the launch slackened to a slow drift the smart - looking power - boat with the British flag ranged alongside. A man who appeared to be in author- ity touched his cap formally. 201 “Who's the owner of this vessel? ” he asked. “Me,” answered Sam without re- moving his pipe from his mouth. “Name of vessel?’’ demanded the stranger briskly. “ Pifty-Fifty.” What?” “T said Fifty-Fifty.” “ Registered ? ” The boatman shrugged his shoul- ders. ‘ Let’s see your license.” “Oh, this is an American boat,” said the owner indifferently. “Well, you’re in Canadian waters. I’m a Canadian officer. [I am entitled to inspect your papers. Let's. see them.”’ “Didn't bring *em.” The man turned and held a whis- pered conversation with two of his colleagues. One of them nodded. “We'll probably have to take you ashore for that,” he remarked very sternly. Sam displayed no evidence of inter- est. He merely looked at Rosalind. That lady had been suddenly aroused from boredom. She was very much interested. ‘““T am responsible for the boat be- ing here,” she said. “I am hiring it. What is the trouble?” “The trouble is, madam, that this man is navigating Canadian waters without being able to produce proper papers.” ‘But that does not seem like a very serious offense,’ remarked Rosalind. “T imagine it is being done every day.”’ “Tt’s been done a number of times by this vessel, madam. We've watched it-? “ Still, I do not see that it is a matter of much importance. I am sure no damage has been done.”’ “We're not so sure, madam.” A second man twitched the sleeve of the speaker, and they conferred in low tones. ‘What is your name, madam?” de- COMMICGLOOOKS (C@