Argosy and Railroad Man's Magazine — page 89: what you’re looking at

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

GREEN ““T guess I always claimed nobody between Marseilles an’ Macassar.was handier with the tools than me, but did ye notice him when we was a tailorin’ the boat last night? He’s a bear on them block an’ tackle, too. *Longside 0’ him, you_looked like a land- lubber on yer fust voyage, an’ I felt like one. “Now, it seems queer t’ me a gal like Miss Dor’thy don’t cotton t’ Mr. Falkens an’ him t’ her, but that’s the way. He don’t pay no more attention t’ her than if she wasn’t there; treats her like she was a man. Either:he ain’t interested in the fe- males, or else he’s got a gal back home. ““T guess Miss Dor’thy left. a lover or two back home, too,” he continued, resum- ing the oars, ‘‘ but that’s different, Females ain’t bothered with sich thinks. It’s the fella that kin throw the heftiest bluff at the proper time lands ’em. But Cap Falkens, he’s. steady to the gal back home, an’ she, instead 0’ feelin’ slighted, is glad to be left alone. I guess it’s some sort o’ instinct tells a girl whicht is the right guy fer her. Ye wouldn’t think, to look at her, she could see any one but Letcher, but I knows what she’s a doin’—she’s makin’ up to him so as to git me riled an’ jealous.” - He paused and took a fresh chew of sailor’s twist. “A funny thing, this coortin’ game. She says to herself: ‘ That there Peter Mankus —there’s the upstandin’ figger of a man fer me. But he’s a leetle too sure. I got to make him so jealous he’ll eat out’n my fist. I got to play him like a trout; keep him guessin’, or he’ll likely lose interest an’ dig out if things come too easy fer him. Peter, he’s the man fer me!’ “'That’s what she says to herself, so she’s been a playin’ up to Letcher jist to make -me jealous. That’s the answer to that ques- “tion.” He cocked his head round with that fool- ish leer of his wherever a woman was con- cerned, and said: ““Ye know, doc, she calls'me Peterkin when she thinks 0’ me.. Whadda ye think —Pe-ter—” . “Indeed!” I interrupted. We were now clear of the promontory and far enough on the other side to-obtain a glimpse of the narrow strip of beach. Our SPIDERS. 431 boat was standing so far out to sea, it would have been almost impossible to see Letcher unless he were near the water’s edge, but Mankus evidently had no inten- tion of rowing. nearer. “There lays the beach,” he said, swing- ing our boat around, ‘“ an’ yonder lays the rocks above it; kin you see Letcher? Nit! Letcher ain’t there; he’s gone; skinned out; joined the mutyneers an’ sailed away. We better row back to the Irene.” CHAPTER IX. THE FIGHT IN THE SMALL BOAT. ANKUS sent the blades ripping through the water before I could real- ize what he meant to do. “ Hold on!” I exclaimed. “I don’t un- derstand. I must have heard you wrong.” “Why, it’s plain enough,” he returned, glancing round/at me and grinning. ‘“ Letch- er, he ain’t there; so, after havin’ carefully searched the beach an’ rocks, we’re a going back to the ship.” “This is no search—this is brutal! No!” I cried with quickly rising anger. “ Drop that right oar—head for the beach! I’m going to land on it! TI believe Letcher’s there.” ““ Now, looky here, doc—” “Do as I tell you—quick!” Mankus turned slowly and faced me. “Why, doc, what’s got into ye?” he asked in an argumentative tone. ‘ Do you guess Td lie to ye? Ain’t the beach bare?, Ain’t we squinted along it, an’ seen that Letcher wa’n’t there There’s facts, ain’t it? That’s logic. All along I thought ye was fallin’ in with my views, an’ now ye was only foolin’ me all the time. “ But I guess ye must be sick with the heat. The sun’s got into yer dome. I guess I'll have t’ git ye back t’ the*old Irene in a hurry an’ tell Miss Dor’thy t’ stick an onion plaster on yer Adam’s apple. Yer words comes out crooked. Mr. Fal- kens, he’ll know what ails ye when I tell him—”’ “Are you going to the beach or not?” F demanded, white with anger, struggling | desperately to turn the boat inshore. commiclooolkks.conn