Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 64: what you’re looking at

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

By FRANK H. SHAW gone ashore; the second engineer had followed their example, after a press- ing invitation to Sellerman to accompany him to supper at a favorite rendezvous; the night watchman had reported all things in order; but Sellerman still remained in his cabin, curiously expectant. The call would come in a very little while; of that he was perfectly convinced. When he heard the boots of the watchman clatter on the deck overhead his heart gave a bit of a leap in his breast—he pricked his ears. No; not this time—but presently, of course—presently. He looked about the austere cabin that had housed him these many years, and thought that in a little while another man would benefit by all the many gadgets he himself had installed in order to make the sea bedroom more home- like and agreeable. He picked up his shabby badge cap from the settee and eyed it whimsically. The peak was bent and cracked—and, anyway, it wasn’t the right pattern for a skipper’s T's last of the stevedores had long ago cap. The peak needed to be bigger, to hold the gold lace that denoted supreme dignity; Sellerman set the headgear on his thinning hairs and studied himself in the mirror above the collapsible washstand. Yes, he admitted to himself, laughing at his own childish conceit, a gold-peaked cap would suit him all right. “Tt won’t be long now,” he said, réach- ing for his pipe. “ And Molly ’ll be more than glad, won’t you, old girl?” He cast a glance at the faded photograph on the enameled bulkhead—a photograph in a handsome silver frame. That frame was an extravagance of newly married days, and even so, not at all worthy to frame the representation of the most wonderful wom- an in all the world. The fragrant smoke wreaths clouded his face and hid the quiet smile that curled his lips. He’d worked hard and faithfully for this day, he admitted. He had more than once refused tempting offers to leave the old Molyneux, but the ultimate reward was worth all the sacrifices made—yes—well 690 CORmMicloooks (C@