Argosy All-Story Weekly, October 6, 1923 — page 59: what you’re looking at

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

SO THIS that Letty’s father rose dripping from the sea, and sat upon the edge of his bed. But this time he did not seem hostile. He said nothing, but grinned amiably at the sleeping youth, his jaws moving ceaselessly as if upon some ghostly cud. And from time to time he nodded in satisfaction, and when he did the seaweed in his whiskers glistened, and in his furry ears the bright gold hoops twinkled. Then he grew dim, and through the win- dow crept the offshore breeze. The tide had turned, and was flowing back to the sea. The Slapper dreamed no more, but slept the deathlike slumber of exhausted youth, holding in his tired hand the prize of valor. VI. In the heat of battle had the Slapper fallen or been struck beneath the feet of Micah Shelby, the latter would have put the boots to him; possibly have killed him. But Micah, bad as he might be, was no murderer. His rage did not lessen after the fight; but the wunreasoning passion which inspired the killer was replaced by something saner. He was licked, and in- comprehensibly to him, by a smaller, weak- er man. Henceforth, Wedlock was no place for him. A dethroned idol is the most pitiable of objects. In a half hour, Micah’s subjects fell away. He might still be able to beat them up, but he could not hold their alle- giance. With a swift efficiency he sold out his lobster pots, dories and tackle; and no more definite news of him was available : than that he had bought a ticket for Ban- gor. In no other way could the Slapper have so endeared himself to the little town. It would not be accurate to say that no single being missed Micah. His mother wept for him in secret; but that is the eternal privi- lege of mothers. The gang missed him, in its way, because it had been built up about him, and threatened to disintegrate. The old sexton believed that the hand of God had been manifested. The pastor could not approve the means, but gave thanks that the instigator of much trouble had been removed from their midst. IS WEDLOCK! 841 The Slapper was embarrassed by the cor- dial reception he met with when he ap- peared next morning. He was also studied with new interest, as a sort of freak; for, aside from Major Hendrie, there were none who could appreciate the artistry with which he had polished off a fellow manifest- ly able to take him apart limb by limb. Nobody knew how he had done it; but all knew that he had, and were satisfied. With Micah gone, the Slapper still had enough on his mind to worry about. In a twinkling his relations to Letty had changed. Of course, looking back he was able to trace to some extent the minute steps by which respect had turned to lik- ing, liking to something warmer. But he had not known that he was in love until Letty’s warm lips blended with his own. And the discovery filled him with some- thing like dismay. What could he do about it? What would she expect him to do? For the first time in his life he had been unable to spend his income. ‘There was nothing to buy, nothing he wanted that he did not have. His cigarettes, a little candy and soft drinks for the kids, six dollars a week for board and room and laundry, an occasional hair cut by the village barber- undertaker; and he was drawing down a hundred a month! But—for how long? It might be cut off at any time. A line from Rhino Bennet, and he was adrift once more. He had no trade, no pros- pects, no ambitions beyond working up until he should become a little boss, and some day perhaps a leader like Iron Reedy. But competition was keen; he had never shown any ability yet save as a magnified errand boy, a fetcher and carrier. There were other fields, of course. Boot- legging. Various get-rich-quick schemes; more often than not spelling get-caught- quick. He didn’t doubt that he could get a reasonable amount of money, by hook or crook. He had never been without it for long. But then, he had never expected to marry! And if he had, it would normally have been to some girl of his own class, versed in the devious ways of the edge of the underworld in which he had always dwelt. She would not be squeamish; would COMmiclooe S (©