Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 75: what you’re looking at

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

THE SEA’S refute the captain’s statements, his own written words would be brought up as evi- dence against him. He sank his face in his hands and gulped—it wasn’t fair. Lyons’s face was bitterly hostile as he made for the gangway. The Molyneux was fast to the wharf forward; aft, the sec- ond mate and his watch were heaving her alongside. Lyons had ordered a gangway ashore at once; he was in haste to get his story to the owners’ ears. His friendship with Brent would count heavily in his favor —and who would take the word of a dis- gruntled mate against a skipper’s? Impatiently he leaped to the narrow plank that had been thrust from ship to shore. As he went there was a sudden de- tonation, like the discharge of a gun. The six inch line aft, on which the powerful winch was heaving, had parted like a pack- thread. ““Took out, sir’ some one yelled the warning—-a fraction of a second too late. The ship’s stern swung out into the dock, U JUDGMENT. 701 the plank gangway slid. Lyons made a mad leap, wavered on the stringpiece, that was wet and muddy, failed to find a footing. He gave a screeching cry as he scraped with futile hands at the slimy timbers of the dock. “Give a shove in, skipper!” shouteti the second mate to the master of the stern tug. The man who had shoved the gangplank ashore ran to the rail, white-faced. He suddenly clapped his hands to his mouth and shouted—shouted. It was too late; the stern tug was thrusting the Molyneux into the wharf with all her power. Between the ship’s sheer side and the stone wall of the wharf was. a narrow stretch of foul water, with a white, horrified face thrust upward from the scum. “Hold on aft—for God’s screamed the man, and looked again. This: time was no stretch of water be- tween ship and shore—there was no white face. Lyons, crushed like an egg, was at the: bottom of the dock. sake! ” U U *“‘THAT’S WHERE YOUR CHEST BEGINS ” (With apologies to the author of ‘‘ Out Where the West Begins **) WHEN relatives. say you’re: a splendid writer And exclaim that Bernard Shaw’s no brighter, That’s where your chest begins; When your besf girl says that no eyes are bluer, And adds to that that no heart: beats truer, When she tells you your kind is getting fewer, That’s where your chest begins. When your friends admit that you’re really clever, When they say that your name will live forever, That’s where your chest begins; When you think for your words the world is sighing, And that hundreds of girls for you are crying, When you think that your fame must be undying, That’s where your chest begins. Up ‘neath the spot where your Adam’s apple Bobs up and down when you gulp your scrapple, That’s where your chest begins; But sometimes, my friend, through overeating, Or on hot mince pie and cheese. repeating, You find where your belt and vest are meeting, That’s where your chest begins. Percy Waxman. COMICLOOokKs (C@