The Argosy, September 1915 — page 72: what you’re looking at

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

286 se THE ARGOSY. “ Against the law,” observed Regin~ 4t was difficult to do anything for ald, nodding. “Of course. And then, while I watched him he fell overboard.” Sam, who had been listening with steadily widening eyes, broke into a furious pantomime. He shook his head violently and pointed at his clothing. Rosalind bit her lip and re- membered. The boatman’s clothes were dry. For an instant she paused, dismayed. The web of her fiction was becoming tangled. From sheer stubbornness, hardened with a desire for revenge, she had embarked -upon a tale of her own. If there was lying to be done Rosalind was resolved to be the archi- tect of her own falsehoods. She would not become a parrot for the lies of another. — Nor had she a mind to play the weak and conventional part of a maiden in distress, rescued by masculine courage and brawn. Even though wet and un- dignified she proposed to preserve some shred of superiority to the sex that scattered hearts at her feet. “As I said,” she resumed suddenly with a swift flash of her eyes in the direction of Sam, “the creature fell overboard. He began _ floundering about in the water quite helplessly, and it was evident he could scarcely swim a stroke. I couldn’t see him drown, so I had to go to the rescue.” “And you rowed out—” : “That was the trouble,’ continued Rosalind. ‘“ My boat had drifted loose and had disappeared. So there was nothing else to do but swim—unless I wanted to see him drown.” “ Rosalind! ” Reginald’s eyes were blazing with admiration. “ Oh, it wasn’t much of a swim,” she said carelessly. ‘‘ Not over a hundred yards, I should say.” “But you risked your life, child!” “Not at all. I can really swim, Reggy; you know that. Well, I got to him after a while, at any rate, and I found him in such a panic of fear that him.” She paused long enough to allow her glance to wander again toward the boatman. His symptoms were those of hysteria. “Finally I managed to get him by the collar from behind,” continued Rosalind calmly. ‘ I had to choke him a little, I think. It wasn’t very easy to get him to the launch, which had be- gun to drift, but we made it after a while. Then—” Another inspection of Sam seemed to afford her satisfaction, for she smiled. “Then it was a question of getting him aboard. He was in a complete funk; did nothing but cling to the boat and roll his eyes. I had to climb in myself and then drag him after me. And then—think of it, Reggy—he be- gan to weep. That great, grown man shed tears like a child!” Reginald surveyed the great, grown man with pity and contempt. “ That’s all of it,” added Rosalind. “Tt was just a question of running the boat to the island.” The suitor from the city gazed upon Rosalind Chalmers in adoration. “You wonder!” he exclaimed. She made a careless gesture and turned a pair of triumphant eyes in the direction of the boatman. He had ceased his pantomime and was regard- ing her with an expression even more rapt than that of Reginald. “Wait till they hear of this at the Witherbees’!” exclaimed Reginald. “They mustn’t!” she said hastily. “ Not for anything!” “But my dear girl, it’s so—” “Remember Mr. Morton!” Reginald frowned. The boatman’s manner became suddenly alert. The name of Morton had a galvanizing ef- fect. Then he remembered his roéle and relapsed into vacant passivity. “Hang Morton!” blurted Reginald. “Tf the man’s insane, as you say he is, I don’t see why he isn’t sent away. He’s got everybody walking around on COPMICGLOOOKS (©)