The Argosy — page 70: what you’re looking at

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

262 ‘THE ARGOSY, I mean to ;’’ and he bound the declaration with a stupendous oath. Thinking some strange things, I said: ‘“‘ My dear captain, you were born a hundred years too late.’’ ‘Perhaps ;’? and though I could not see his face, I knew he smiled grimly. ‘‘ At any rate, I’ve been too blamed honest for this world I did not altogether like this. ‘There was an absence of modesty about the confession which robbed it of much of its value. A man complaining of his honesty is like a woman who grieves because she has never succumbed to temptation. : . ‘ Well, captain, I suppose honesty is a comparative quality, after. all,” Very,” Said hex =“" ft ait depends on how a thing’s done. I’ve come to the conclusion that the thing that pays best is best.’’ ‘ But will not honesty pay best in the long run?”’ ‘“My young friend,’’ said he impressively, ‘‘ there is no such thing as honesty.’’ ‘ Yet there is something we call by that name.’ ‘A mere word—a played out superstition. ,Did you ever know an honest man?’ It was curious, but when the question was put in this way I could not answer. HadI?_ I did not know. Noting my embarrassment, he added, with a chuckle - ‘No, nor I either, nor anybody else.’’ I might have retorted, but to little purpose ; so he, accepting my silence as a sign of defeat, shuffled off with a laugh and disappeared below. Lean- ing against the rail, I smoked on in the darkness. Befieath me the screw swirled angrily, and gradually the wind increased. ~Occasionally we en- countered a stray sea bigger than any of its fellows, and then the old boat gave a most unpleasant lurch—a disagreeable reminder that ours was a most unstable footing. The captain’s words, too, seemed rather ominous; for when a man who has journeyed half way through middle life comes to the conclusion that honesty is a decrepit superstition, there must be something radicallly wrong with the world—or with the individual. ‘There was likewise a passionate regret in the man’s voice—a tone which under no possible circumstances could be misinterpreted. It was genuine ; the real regret of a man who has lost certain golden opportunities. N aturally, I could not then know the real state of his mind; and, truth to tell, his conversation did not particularly impress me. Vet I fancied I was not without an inkling of his inner thoughts. That the man rankled with envy was apparent ; that he was grimly desperate was equally obvious. I thought, too, of his strange whispering with the big Chinaman, and wondered if he had a reason for not referring to it. Yes, it’s all clear enough now—a sort of 1€t me see the numbers go up and Ill give youthe name of the winner. At the time I laughed some- what at the splutterings of the disappointed. mariner ; after that I forgot all about him as I listened:to the sea and thought of my future. When I awoke the next morning, it was with a jerk which nearly sent me flying out of my berth. The bulkheads groaned, and everything that O) comicbooks com