Argosy, Vol. 112, No. 2 — page 160: what you’re looking at

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

Ol Pelee bP ear Nee ‘ f - Je bar ks bad ‘ —te ie da Pu wha ‘ ee | | ees 7: eat Gibbs Huntly HE big, air-driven schooner Lamson pushed her sharp bows into a berth at Pier 1 with scarcely a sound; just the low whistling exhaust from her huge compressors breathing a tired sigh at the end of her voyage. With her moorings fast, Grim Dickson, valve-tender and roustabout, leaped from the rail to the dock, turned and cursed the schooner a vehement good-by, and strolled away, glowering his independence to the world. He was feeling independent this morning in the possession of the dilapidated suit he wore, the month’s pay he fingered in his pocket, and the prospective week’s debauch in Baltimore. That was twenty hours ago, only twenty hours, and now, ensnared in the drag-net of the Compulsory Labor Service, he, with others, was under escort to the headquar- ters of the distributing agency. Surely fate had flung a challenge in his face at the beginning of the year, for this was January I, 1930. Nothing in the human derelict line es- caped the Compulsory Labor net. By-path loafers, sleek, white-fingered professional gamblers, hunger-bitten, whisky-soaked cowards (universal prohibition had failed to curb either desire or gratification) , kitch- en thieves—legitimate dog prey—shock- headed, blackened brake-beam busters, and UMA? td Bist ee ‘i heviiniie a His iit Mi MY fi the common riffraff of the water-front—all squirmed in the net until examined and bil- leted by the men higher up. The old-time tramp problem was solved, and out of this human drift, disciplined and trained, had come much of the help needed in carrying out the gigantic military and naval projects authorized by a progressive government. This explains how it came about that Grim Dickson, bathed, barbered, and clothed, but still under escort, reported to Clark, foreman of the magnet works down on Light Street. Clark scanned the card tendered and flashed a glance at the cynical, defiant face of the other. “What did you do last?” he snapped. ‘“‘ Tended valves on an air-floater.” ‘* Before that?” ‘““ Boiled tar in Caroliny.” “ Before that?” ‘“‘ Gobbler boss on a turkey-ranch.” “ Before that?” ‘“‘ Aw, go to blazes! IT wanted to.”’ Again Clark scanned the dark, saturnine face. ‘‘ Come in,” he ordered. ‘ We’ll take your resistance.”’ “What’s that?” suspicion. “ Resistance? Oh, everybody can’t work among magnets, so we test them.” I didn’t come cause Grim’s voice betrayed 326 Gomichooks