Argosy, Vol. 118, No. 2 — page 130: what you’re looking at

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

280 THE The great curtain of fog was a mile ahead. The last shell had fallen two hun- dred yards short. Five minutes more would settle it. Hansen had the wheel. Lund stood by the taffrail, his arm about Peggy Simms. He shook a fist at the gunboat, vomiting black smoke from her funnel, foam about her bows. “We'll beat ’em yit,” he cried. The next shell, with more elevation, whined parallel with them, sped ahead, and smashed into the waves. “Hold yore course, Hansen! No time to zigzag. Got to chance it. Damn it, they know how to shoot.” A missile had gone plum through the main and foresails, leaving round holes to mark the score. Another fairly struck the main topmast, and some splinters came rat- tling down, while the remnants of the top- sail flapped amid writhing ends of halyard and sheet. They entered the beginning of the fog, curling wisps of it reached out, twining over the bowsprit and headsails, enveloping the foremast, swallowing the schooner as a hurt- ling missile crashed into the stern. The next instant the mist had sheltered them. Lund released the girl and jumped to the wheel. ‘Now then,” he shouted, ‘“ we'll fool em!” He gripped the spokes, and the men ran to the sheets ai command while the Karluk shot off at tight angles to her pre- (The ARGOSY. vious course, skirting the fog that blanketed the wind, but yet filtered through sufficient breeze to give them headway, gliding like a ghost on the new tack to the east. ‘Rainey, tense for the explosion of the shell, jumped below at last and came back exultant. ‘““It was a dud, Lund!” he shouted. ‘ Or else they didn’t want to blow us up on account of the gold. But they’ve wrecked the cabin. The fog’s coming in through the hole they made. Tamada’s galley’s gone. It’s raked the schooner!”’ ‘So long’s it’s above the water line, to hell with it! Well make out. Listen to the fools. They’ve gone in after us, straight on.”’ é The booming of the gunboat’s forward battery sounded aft of them, dulled by the fog—growing fainter. ‘ Lund’s luck! We've dodged ’em!”’ “They'll be waiting for us at the passes,” said Rainey. ‘‘ They’ve got’ the speed on us.” “Let ’em wait. To blazes with the Aleutians! Ready again there for a tack! Sou’east now. We'll work through this till we git to the wind agin. It’s all blue water to the Seward Peninsula. We’re bound for Nome.” 3 ‘For Nome?’ asked Peggy Simms. “Nome, Peggy! An American port. The nearest harbor. An’ the nearest-— preacher!” End.) A LOVER’S QUARREL N violet sweet woods we stray’d Together, yet apart; a shade Darkened my Phcebe’s love sweet eyes; Not one fond look could I surprise, * Though subtle arts I long essay’d. = 1 storm’d, implor’d, wax’d angry, pray’d, Until—* That girl,’ she did upbraid, “In violet!” Then, petulant yet half afraid, She turn’d and fac’d me in the glade. Old world, grown sick of smiles and sighs, (ll keep, for I am wondrous wise, The story of the truce we made, Inviolate. Besste Gray. (e(0) .OO AMUN S (C@)