Argosy All-Story Weekly, 4 February 1922 — page 89: what you’re looking at

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

2 jack on through! McGregor was not uneasy for the end. They had six clear minutes with neither striker winded much. Hugh was certain they were at least even with their contes- tants, and sure they were not in danger of falling behind. An inch, more or less, might tell the tale—he knew that he could add that extra inch. He swung the jack with comparative deliberation, making each blow count toward the desired end. ‘“ Ten min- utes!” ‘ Thirty-two now in the hole,” thought Hugh. ‘“ Five minutes*—not too bad!” The blue steel was biting perfectly. How it happened McGregor never knew, nor could Davies afterward explain. “ Steel!’ cried Hugh, and Davies, without a false movement made ready for the change. The dulled steel rested loosely in the hole; Davies guided the bitt of the sharp- ened steel up to the edge, ready to snatch the old steel out with one hand, at the same instant drop the new steel with the other. Once again McGregor struck. Davies jerked at the drill with his right hand, rais- ing the new steel with the left. Perhaps there was a little fissure in the rock that pinched the bitt—the drill was rock-bound. Davies jerked again. At the same moment he had carried forward the new steel; the sharpened bitt wedged in the hole as. he raised it up. His attention was on the rock- bound drill. Hugh, striking, was unable to arrest his blow in time, although he did deflect it to one side. The hickory handle of the double- jack fell on Davies’s arm, snapping one of the bones just above his wrist. It was an “ unavoidable accident.” A roar of disappointment rolled outward to the edge of the crowd, for at that stroke the championship was lost to Hobart. Davies voiced his feelings with one expres- sive word: ‘“ Hurt?” Hugh panted as he dropped the | sledge. ‘“* Domn thing’s busted,” answered Davies shortly, looking at the helpless arm as at a sort of curiosity. _“ God, that’s tough, Dave!” _“ Ye’ve lost th’ coop,” mourned Davies— then, suddenly: “ ’Less ye can thraw th’ El be noomed for a. ae OO rs ~ a a Hugh was > _ sincerely sorry; that Davies knew. 7? »; a... — a a ee a ee — > ae 2 —— > rn ag eee tga Nee ee ee ee ? eo aa (ge ee Ps i DO i —_ “— tne ae ae =—_.-. = Sa eS ee ae Se ain Cen ~~ - < = sate pe ee mgt “a SE — - we Te > > _— soom whiles; Ah’ll make t’ twust ioe Hugh!” | “You can?” cried McGregor. “Ah domn well can!’ swore Davies. = “ Gin ye got th’ guts t’ strike for two?” “ Eleven!” the judge called. One min- — McGregor snatched the steel from __ out the hole; dropped the new bitt, ringing, | Davies crouched, his broken. — arm hanging at his side; his good left hand McGregor = ute lost! into place. grasping at the drill. and Davies turned the steel. Many a manly contest had Hobart seen; nothing like this in all her history. Steel = pounding sparks from steel; strength mas- _ tering the quartz of the everlasting hills; — but more than that, man’s courage con- | quering the eternal mastery of man’s pain; brave men in battle against time itself, Striving against odds to change defeat to — victory. = “Twelve!” And all the inches yet to win! McGregor fought against them like a man gone mad, sparing neither strength nor steel in the unequal contest. His whirl- wind sledge was a very part of him—one with his arms, his hands, a thing alive. It leaped and crashed; the blue steel cried and thundered, clangorous to the hilltops: Steel on steel, and steel on rock—singing the war-song of the triumph of man! “Thirteen!” Strength driven by an un-_ bending will, was Hugh; strength, stead- fast with endurance — that was Davies, twisting at the drill. from Davies’s arm and stained the floor. “ Fourteen!” trembled in Hugh’s. eyes. but the bright head of the drill. minute struck through years of time, drunk- en with strength that was destroying him. “Time!” cried the judge. McGregor, with all the crowd before him a sea of faces spun round and*round, dropped with his — arms outspread upon the stone, choking for ~ Net a Sweat flew from Hugh — and spattered on the stone. Blood dripped There was a mist that — He saw nothing ~ Atthathe | struck, and struck, unendingly—in that last. Lor. oe AS breath, holding fast lest he, too, should go whirling with the whirling world. In a mo- | ment the mist seemed to clear. He saw the measuring stick drop down between — his hands. Then he heard the voice of the: = judge o of contest: — — apne SOLAN eboc