Frederick William Wallace

“ Strange it was that a man’s love for a flighty girl should conjure murderous thoughts and actions and result in such implacable hatred. Anderson was going mad.
Throughout the long day the dory rode to the drogue while the wind blew a bitter gale from the northeast and a heavy sea tossed the frail craft like a chip. Sleet and snow fell at intervals, and Collins collected some in his sou’wester and forced the frozen moisture between Anderson’s swollen lips. ”

“ As fishermen would say, “He had a way with the women” which made him attractive in their sight. He had a pleasant manner, the art of concealing his feelings, and was universally known as a good shipmate.
Westley Collins was the opposite. Though smart enough aboard of a vessel, yet he was slow and clumsy when ashore. He dressed anyhow, walked with a shambling slouch, and conversationally was neither brilliant nor edifying. ”

“ Human nature is a queer thing. Love begets jealousy; jealousy begets deceit and hate; and hate begets murder. Yet in the case of Westley Collins and Tom Anderson, these passions led to mutual respect and abiding love between them. ”

“ The cook handed the rope over and went down into the forecastle. Anderson saw that his dory-mate was busy stacking the trawl tubs and clearing the buoy-lines in the pitching dory, and with lightning-like swiftness he belayed the painter to a pin in the rail. Springing over to the forecastle scuttle, he jumped down the ladder and began shouting at the cook:
“Look alive, Jack, with that grub. D’ye think we kin wait all day?” ”

“ We’ll hold her down together this Winter—the best an’ ablest pair that ever swung a dory over.”
He turned his back to Collins and the smile on his face turned into a look of the most malignant hate. Lord! How he detested the big simple-minded fool! He’d get him even though he had to play his masquerade the whole Winter season.
Aboard a fishing vessel a man has a thousand opportunities to rid himself of a rival or an enemy. An accidental shove on a dark night when the two were alone on watch, and Collins would swell the list of fishermen “drowned at sea from the vessel.” ”

“ He saved me an’ hauled me up on th’ dory an’ lashed me there. I won’t tell ye any more. I’ve told ye enough, an’ ye’ll please not breathe a word o’ what I’ve told ye.”
The look in his eyes frightened her.
“Now,” he continued steadily, “when West Collins goes to see you, you’ll accept him. I won’t have ye, for I don’t care about ye any more. He’s in love with you, an’ believes in you. He thinks you love him. You do—you’ll have to! You ain’t a-goin’ to make a bluff like I did. You’ve played your bluff—so did I. I pretended to be his friend. I hated him, but I love him now. He’s a man’s man. ”

“ He talked strangely of a dory-jar and arsenic, and in his ravings the name of Elsie Conover was mentioned. Westley Collins, little the worse for his experiences, sat on a lee locker and yarned with the gang while the schooner stormed on her way to Shelburne.
“He’s th’ best dory-mate a man ever had,” he was saying. “He got himself into that state because o’ me. Boys, he purposely avoided drinkin’ from our dory-jar so’s I’d git th’ water sh’d we be adrift long. He knew I was promised to a gal back home, an’ he wanted to see me live. Ain’t he a man for ye? ”

“ One can imagine the tumult which raged in Anderson’s mind as he listened to Collins’s clumsily worded confidences about Elsie Conover.
“We’ll ha’ made a good stock this Winter, Tom,” confided Westley, “and I cal’late I’ll hev enough to get married on. I’m for buyin’ that small pink o’ John Anson’s and I’ll go hake fishin’ in the bay so’s to be near home an’ her.”
Anderson puffed hard at his pipe and nodded interestedly.
“Sure, Westley, boy, that’s the grand idea. No married man sh’d go off Bank fishin’. It’s risky, an’ ye’re away from home too much.” ”

“ I was for goin’ uptown an’ lookin’ around for a dory-mate, but you’re a home-town feller an’ jest th’ man.”
“I’ll go git my clothes-bag an’ tick down an’ see ye later. How many tubs does he rig?”
“Eight to a dory,” replied Westley.
“Humph! American style. Hard fishin’, I reckon,” said Anderson heartily. “Waal, Westley, I cal’late you ’n’ I kin stand the racket aboard these hard-drivin’ market fishermen. I’m a hound for work myself. We’ll git along fine. So long! I’ll be down in a while an’ help ye overhaul some gear.” ”

“ Westley noticed the change in his demeanor, but put it down to the fact that he was frightened.
“Cal’late he don’t like the idea o’ bein’ adrift,” thought Westley. “Waal, I don’t blame him. Thar’s plenty good men scared when they know they’re astray. I ’member wunst pickin’ up a dory on Green Bank, iced up an’ with two men in it frozen as stiff as herrin’s. Th’ thought o’ gittin’ like them scares me too, but never say die!” And he set to work pitching out the fish.
Swinging the dory off before wind and sea, they shipped their oars and pulled for the land some sixty or seventy miles away. ”

“ Westley jumped down into the boat and Anderson handed him the four tubs of baited trawl, while the cook held the painter and the skipper busied himself aft. The latter had occasion to go into the cabin for something and slipped the wheel into the becket. Anderson turned suddenly to the cook. ”

“ Collins and Anderson, oilskinned and seabooted, hauled their baited trawl tubs to the rail and overhauled their buoy-lines.
“Cal’late I’ll go below an’ fill th’ dory-jar with fresh water,” said Anderson. “I’ll git a bit grub as well. Ye never know when one o’ them snow squalls is a-comin’ up an’ we’ll take no chances ’case we git astray from th’ vessel. A drink an’ a bite help some ef ye sh’d be a day or two adrift in a dory.” ”

“ Ain’t you bin a fishin’ long enough to know that dory-painters sh’d never be made fast when there’s a man in th’ dory? Consarn me! Ef I hadn’t jest heppened to come on deck jest as that dory capsized an’ gaffed yer dory-mate, there would ’a’ bin a drownin’ scrape on yer hands. Help me git that dory up on th’ tackles while th’ cook sees to Collins. He’s ’most all in. ”

“ We’ll set the other tub yet.”
Westley looked at him strangely, looked at sea and sky, and resumed his trawl hauling.
“You may be right, Tom,” he thought, “but th’ weather looks bad—mighty bad. And th’ vessel’s nowheres in sight.”
The other had sense enough to know that it was time to be getting aboard, but he wanted to see Collins drink first. Blast the man! He had been hauling for hours—hot, thirsty work—and hadn’t even broached the jar for a drink. Usually, West Collins would drink half the jar in side of the first two hours. ”

“ I jest went to git some grub from th’ cook for a second an’ I took a turn with th’ painter, thinkin’ she’d be all right for a moment. I sh’d ha’ known better, an’ ’tis bitter sorry I am that I sh’d ha’ risked th’ life o’ my old dory-mate. Ye’ll forgive me, West, for ’twould ha’ bin a sore day for me sh’d I have lost ye.”
“Say nawthin’ about it, Tom,” answered Collins with a laugh. “‘A miss is as good as a mile,’ an’ we all make mistakes sometimes. Too bad we lost th’ gear——”
“I’ll pay for that!” said Anderson hastily.
“No, ye don’t, boy. We’ll half up as good dory-mates should. ”

“ Miss Conover felt a strange pang, and Anderson knew that the shot had gone home. Jennie would have him, he knew, and Jennie was a nice girl. He saw her in the hospital at Yarmouth before he came home, and was sure of his ground.
“Yes,” he said, “you can count me out. West Collins is your man, and he’s one o’ th’ best. You’ll marry him, Elsie, an’ keep yer promise. Goodby!”
The following announcement in the Anchorville Daily Echo pertains to the story:
At the Anchorville Baptist Church, on Wednesday afternoon, Miss Elsie Conover was united in holy matrimony to Mr. ”

“ He broke a piece of ice from the gunnel and began to suck at it. It was salty, so he threw it away with a curse. He pulled out his pipe and attempted to smoke, but it only seemed to increase his thirst, so he stowed it away again. ”

“ A teaspoonful ’ud stretch ye stiff inside a minute. It’s one o’ th’ deadliest p’izens known. Thar’s enough in this bottle to p’izen ivery man aboard. Drop it in that tea-kittle an’ th’ Seldovia ’ud hev a gang o’ corpses arter breakfust-time.”
The man finished his doctoring and stowed the bottle away under his bunk mattress. Anderson watched him curiously and as he finished his tea an idea flashed through his mind which caused him to smile. ”

“ Comes from Anchorville.”
“Collins? West Collins?” grunted Anderson with a savage look in his eyes. “I’ll be —— ef I’d go dory-mates with that skunk.” To himself he muttered! “Him—of all men.”
Captain Davidson shrugged his shoulders.
“Don’t matter,” he said. “Plenty o’ men lookin’ for chances these days. Collins’ll git a dory-mate ’thout much trouble. I cal’lated, seein’ you two was from th’ same place, ye’d be glad to git together.”
Anderson’s face changed quickly.
“I’ll go with him, Skipper,” he said with an engaging smile. “He’s a good scout, but I was sore on him for a little matter. ”