Argosy All-Story Weekly, November 13, 1920 — page 153: what you’re looking at

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

POP DRUMMOND’S BIRTHDAY. sale of the Point would be impossible with-— out the old whaler’s property being in- cluded. He had every legal right on his side, but the force of circumstances was against him. He made no move toward obeying the broad hint of his persecutor. Mr. Turk shifted the helm and pointed the dory’s bow toward the mouth of the bay. “How long do ye think ye can stand actin’ as a boat-plug?”’ he asked, non- chalantly. “My God, man! to sea?” “ Thought I would,” was the easy reply. ‘“ The—the papers are in my bag.” ‘Wall, ye can pull yer finger out an’ get ‘em, if ye want to. Mind, I ain’t insistin’. I'll tend to the hole.” Mr. Lowny capitulated. He withdrew his finger, and Mr. Turk immediately planted his bare foot on the opening and stopped the inflow. A moment later he had the papers in his hand. ‘They were only a formal notice of foreclosure, and a satisfac- tion-piece drawn on a legal blank. The boatman studied them both with a critical eye then placed them in his pocket. “Say, ye ain’t half a bad feller, arter all!” he said, shifting the boat’s head to- ward the Point. ‘I knowed ye’d think twice about ruinin’ a old man on his birth- day! Ye hadn’t the heart to do it, had ve? You are not going out Ye remember how ye said it hurt ye to be’ on yer errand—an’ how ye had begged fer Mr. Lowny made no reply. His defeat at the hands of a common fisherman, who was quoting him against himself, left noth- ing to return. A few minutes later the dory grounded on the shingle of the beach. ‘“‘ Come with me an’ get dry an’ warm,” said Turk, and led the way to a little house standing back from the shore, a patch of decaying garden behind it. Mr. Lowny followed. He was wet and chilled, but his temper had begun to react from his late fright. And yet he saw that if he took legal action and proved that the satisfaction-piece had been ob- tained under duress he could not count on the verdict of a local jury, and in the story of its loss he would not shine as a hero. He had been beaten at every point, and for the 431 first time in his life he doubted his own busi- ness acumen. And it was strange to him that his hate for the man he was now tame- ly following was not hotter; he even had a certain respect for him. It was a tribute to the one who could get the better of Peter Lowny. Mr. Turk halted as they reached the lonely dwelling, and peered through an un- curtained window; then he laid his hand on his companion’s arm. “.There’s pop! Look in an’ see what ye was goin’ to do.” Mr. Lowny looked. Captain Drummond sat before a small open fire in a room bear- ing every evidence of the occupant’s past calling. He was a relic of bygone days, but the marine flavor showed on him in the worn pea-jacket covering his shrunken shoulders. His eyes were bleary; his tooth- less mouth resembled a drawn purse from which wrinkles radiated like the spokes of a wheel. On his white head was a tall and almost napless silk hat, the onetime full dress of the sea. Altogether he made a pathetic figure as he crouched over the fire. ‘“Allers puts that hat on between six bells an’ supper,” said Turk. ‘“‘ Calls that time his watch. on deck. Ye needn’t be keerful—he’s as deef as a post. Come in.” ~The other hesitated. In his present po- sition he had no wish to meet Captain Drummond, but he was wet and chilled to the bone, and the fire appealed to him. He followed the fisherman who led the way into the hall and threw open-the door of the room. The old man looked up as the two en- tered, and a deep flush suffused his pale face as he noted the stranger. ‘“ ’Tain’t—’tain’t Mr. Lowny come to put me out, is it?” he exclaimed apprehensively, grasping the arms of his shabby chair and lifting himself to his feet. Mr. Lowny stood still. Mr. Turk went up to the old whaler and shouted in his ear: “Yaas, pop, old ship, it’s Mr. Lowny, all right. But he hain’t come to do what ye feared. He’s come to see ye on yer birth- - day, an’ give ye clear title to the property! See here, pop!” Mr. Turk dragged the satisfaction-piece from his pocket and open- ing it shook it excitedly in the old man’s face, his own eyes shining. “ He told me Eomichbooks (E(0)