Argosy, September 1955 — page 99: what you’re looking at

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

BOTH WATCHES — of the WAN OG by ROWAN AYERS ICHAEL HANCOCK stood with one foot on the jetty and the other on the gently undulating deck of the Silver Streak, scanning the windswept front of Collsea Bay with a malignant eye. Nothing ever seemed to work out as it should. When the tides were right, the weather drove the holiday-makers inland to cinemas and amusement arcades. When the weather was right, Silver Streak was generally lying uselessly and unproductively on the soft, oozy mud that remained when the tide had run half a mile out to sea. And on the rare occasions when both were right, there was usually something wrong with the engines, and he had to spend several sickening, dirty hours bent double in the narrow engine- room space, while his rival, the Mary Lou, chugged mockingly about the bay, loaded to the gunwales with eager passengers. Today, the tides were right, and the engines were working; but the temperature had dropped fifteen degrees in as many hours and a strong north-easter was screwing the waves into tight little knots of spray and driving them hard’ against the shore. His passengers, he noted in one quick backward glance, numbered a paltry nine. Nine at half a crown a head made twenty-two and six; just about enough to pay for the fuel for the trip, provided he ran the engines at half-speed. On the other wing of the jetty, he noticed, the Mary Lou was preparing to cast off with a comfortable twenty-five or thirty. It had been like that all the season. ‘““ When do we go, mister?’ asked a small boy who, like the rest of his passengers, had been waiting for fifteen chilly minutes. “We're just off,’”’ said Michael irritably, and called to Leo, the bowman, who was patiently waiting by the breast-rope. ‘‘ Stand by forrard.” “Is this an M.T.B.?” asked the boy, still hovering near. comniclbooks.conn