Argosy All-Story Weekly, November 13, 1920 — page 148: what you’re looking at

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

426 “Ves? Well, I must be going. . You say there will be some one at the pier?” “ More ’n likely.” The door closed behind the stranger. Mr. Sanford’s brows knitted as he stepped to the front window and looked after his visitor. ‘‘ Wonder what in the devil he’s goin’ to do with pop?” he muttered. “ Fore- close? Gosh! I hope Dave—” He did not pursue his unspoken hope for at that moment a customer came up the rickety steps and absorbed his attention. The man from the city went down the steep street which seemed reluctant to stop at the water’s edge, for it continued on in the shape of a long, narrow pier black with age. When there was an eastern gale the whole crazy structure would shake with the force of the surges, but now the low swell of the rising tide, ruffled by the west wind, smote the ancient structure gently. Moored to the end of the pier was a fish- erman’s dory, line-scored, old and worn, and on the rotting string-piece above it sat a man, the only one in sight. He was well past sixty years but was almost a giant in size. Clad in shabby overalls and worn rubber boots he made a picturesque figure as he seemed to gaze abstractedly at the few smacks anchored in-shore. And, indeed, he was splendid to look at. He needed but a black ribbon to gather his flowing gray hair to be the type of the strong, resource- ful colonial the mold of which seems to have been shattered. Clean shaven, smoothly bronzed, deep of chest and large of bone he would have graced either pulpit or ros- trum—until he opened his fine mouth and showed his ragged, tobacco-stained teeth; until he displayed his fund of profanity and his ignorance ‘of the polite amenities. He would hardly have been popular in a gentle community, being too like the coast on which he lived—rugged and uncompromis- ing. And yet, withal, his smooth forehead was almost as clear as a child’s, and his face bore something of a child’s simplicity as he sat there, an old oilskin sou’wester pushed back on his magnificent head. He appeared to be in deep dejection. To him the other made his way, the rat- ' tle of loose planking heralding his approach. ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. *« Say, there! What will you charge to take me over to Pelican Point?” The sitting man gave a slow, sidelong glance at the well-dressed stranger and sent a stream of black tobacco-juice into the water. “Bout fifty cents, I guess—when I go.” The answer was spiritless. * All right!) When will that be?” ‘“Mebby a minnit—mebby an hour— mebby two. Waitin’ fer a sack o’ perta- ters to take across.” “ Why, man, it will be black dark in less than two hours!” “Wall, what of it?” “Oh, nothing, I suppose, if you know your business. Only I hate the water, espe- cially after dark. It’s treacherous. I was to be met and taken across by a chap named Turk—David Turk. Do you know him?” The other did not turn his head. “ Yaas, I know him. Saw him at the deppo this mornin’. Said he was waitin’ for a feller from Boston, but the feller didn’t come. Be ye him?” “Yes, I missed the first train. your name, my friend?” “Tobias. Some calls me Toby.” “Mine is Stegle. I’m a lawyer and have business with Captain Drummond at the Point. You can show me where he lives?” The big man spat again, and there was a vehement jerk to the stream he sent into the bay. Wheeling around on the speaker he faced him squarely for the first time, seemingly studying the man before him. Mr. Stegle threw away his half-consumed cigar, which had become extinguished, and took a fresh one from the case which he did not tender to the other. “ Wall, sir,” said the fisherman, speaking in a resonant voice which could be felt as well as heard. “TI allow ye be arter pop. Goin’ to foreclose on him, I take it! Every- body to the P’int knows what’s in the wind. Ye be workin’ fer that old skin-flint, Lowny, aint ye?” - “ Mr. Lowny is my client, and he would doubtless be crushed by your estimate of him. - However, business is business, my good friend.” “So ’tis—so tis,” was the dejected an- swer. “ Be ye goin’ to fire old pop? Ef ye be ye might as well know it. will just What is (E) GEomichbooks