Argosy All-Story Weekly, November 13, 1920 — page 147: what you’re looking at

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

oF POP DRUMMOND’S BIRTHDAY. of him as his closely cropped moustache. Prosperity and pomposity sat on his shoul- ders as plain as his silk-faced spring over- coat which was thrown back, displaying the gold chain stretched across his chest. He _ walked up to the counter, deposited on it a fire-new pigskin grip, and leaned confiden- tially toward the proprietor who, with the impassibility of his class, looked at his visitor. “Ym in something of a dilemma,”’ said the stranger. ‘‘ I have just arrived in this jumping-off place. There was to be a man to meet me and take me over the bay—a Mr. David T. Turk—but he was not at the depot. I was told that perhaps Mr. Turk would be found here. You know him, of course—TI don’t.” Mr. Sanford’s gorge had instinctively risen against the superior air of the man and his scant respect for Wickapemis; but there was no sign of ire in his answer: “Know Dave Turk? Wall, I guess! He was in here this mornin’ buyin’ some ter- baker fer Pop Drummond’s birthday. Hain’t seen him sence. Don’t know if he has gone back or not. Guess he has.” ‘“T presume I can find some one to take me over.” “To where?”’ “To Pelican Point. I have business with the Captain Drummond you speak of.” Mr. Sanford’s heavy eyes opened wide. ‘Oh, I see! Wall, you won’t have no trouble gettin’ across, I cal’late. Some one’s likely to be down to the pier.” ‘One is as good as another,” said the stranger, and taking a well-filled cigar-case from his pocket, he drew out a Havana and lighted it. Mr. Sanford looked a trifle dis- appointed as the case was repocketed un- offered, then he reached into his cigar-stand and helped himself to a cheroot the color of molasses. For a few moments the two smoked in silence, the proprietor furtively eying his profitless caller. It was the latter who broke the spell. ‘“ What sort of a man is Captain Drum- mond, my good friend?” he asked, sending a thin line of smoke toward the blackened ceiling. 3 “Pop Drummond? Don’t you know him?” b 425 “No. I have never been here before— and have no wish to come again.” Mr. Sanford permitted himself to appear surprised, and licked a loose leaf of his cheroot before answering. ‘‘ Wall, sir,’’ he finally said, “““Pop Drummond is a case. He’s a leetle teched, perhaps — like his father what suicided — drownded himself, years ago. But pop is a fine old chap. Looks harmless enough, but he might be a terror if he’s woke up and ’roused.” ‘So! Shaky in the head, hey?” ‘“ Yaas. He’s a old whaler livin’ on a pension from his firm—or he has been. The old concern’s in trouble now an’ pop don’t get his money very reg’lar. I don’t know what he’d do without Dave Turk— an’ Dave’s poorer ’n a crow.” ‘The man who was to have met me?” ‘“Yaas. Not in money; he can’t do much, but he does some. Say, once last winter, when the pension didn’t come, an’ pop was nigh starvin’ in his pride, Dave gets me to trust him fer a ham an’ a lot o’ pertaters an’ stuff, an’ he goes an’ lays ’em on pop’s front porch. He said he’d kill me if I told pop—an’ I guess he’s ekle to it. The joke is that pop said it was God what done it.”’ =e “Ah! Did you ever get paid?” “Oh, yaas; Dave paid. An’ this spring, when pop was sick, I’m darned if Dave didn’t go an’ dig up the old man’s garden patch in the middle o’ the night, an’ he planted it, an’ pop don’t guess it yet. He says that was God, too. I guess there ain’t no hate between them two fellers. Dave’s a fool.” . ‘Damon and Pythias, hey!” ee Huh?” ‘Close friends, you know.” “You bet! But Dave’s an ass.” ‘For what?” asked the city man. “For workin’ fer nothin’. Dave could lay a claim against pop.” “It would be business,’ said the other, picking up his bag. “ I suppose I’m likely to meet this man, Turk, at the point, but he can make no trouble.” “Trouble about what? Him! Dave’s as mild as skimmed milk. He wouldn’t trouble nobody what treats him right. He’d be better off if he had more spunk.’ _ (ECO AMIE IOOKS (Elo)