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About The Omaha morning bee. (Omaha [Neb.]) 1922-1927 | View Entire Issue (July 1, 1923)
The Sunday Bee l Mm3 ;^uA'^-:-\^v.' - r -: gssJnrccTiONj VOL. 53—NO. 3. OMAHA. SUNDAY MORNING, JULY 1, 1923. FIVE CENTS | Gallegher of Beaver Love—Jealousy—Action By H. Be ford-Jones I Eddie "Rnw«rv" llalleirher had come home from a summer’s steam boating. A big, overgrown boy he was, for all his mate’s ticket, with a wide grin and a hearty laugh that would charm response from the Sphinx. No one had told him yet about Gisli Gislison—not even his brother, Big Joe, had dared to tell him. Bowery was still in high spirits and no wonder, having come home to the loneliest yet most cheerful place on the lakes—Beaver Island. We all sat around the stove—the McCann boys, old man Dunlevy, Salty Gallegher and Hughie Big Biddy Gallagher, Tight Gallagher and Willie Boyle, and a few more. t There was a drop to drink and the dance to follow, and the perch had began to run. "Ye know l\ow scarce Jobs were - and men laid up?" Bowery leaned forward with his hearty laugh. “I got paralysis or something? Does Joe let this feller alone, too?” A grin flitted about the circle of faces. , "Joe Interfered," said Willie Boyle dryly. “He got laid up for a week and lost a six hundred dollar pound net. The two McCafferty boys interfered, and so did them Danes over to Garden Island. They landed on Pismire one night and warned Gislison off. He come over to the dance the next night and cleaned the whole of them—proper! He's come over for the dance to night, I guess.” "He ain't a bad sort,” spoke up old Dunlevy quaverlngly. “When this lad come over first. In a west gale it was, his engine gone dead on him. and he wld a top rigged for’ard for a sail!" “He's clever on his feet too,” add ed Tight Gallegtjer. "D'ye mind when he stepped out wid Danny melodeon, and a gray witchery under her black brows that hud stirred the heart of more than one man. Hack from school had come Mary Boyle to help the sisters teach the youngsters their reading and writing, and she could handle a boat with any man, or gaff and pull as the motor roared and the lifter brought in the lacy nets and the big whileflsh went hurtling into the tub below. Up the white gravel road came striding Gisll Oislison, and turned in at the gate. Mary came running from the kitchen. When she saw who it was. she paused In the door way and the sparkle died out of her eyes. "Good morning," said Gisll Oisli son. He came forward to the ver anda and halted by the step. "Is It my father you'd like to see?" asked Mary, with a lift to her brows. blood from his lips and cutting her knuckles on his strong white teeth. Gisli Gislison smiled at the blow and nodded. She shrank. A flivver rattled to a halt before the farm and Bowery Oallegher jumped out. The car drove on. Gisli Gislison loosed the girl’s arm as Bowery came up to them. "What's goin' on here?" snapped Bowery seeing the look in Mary's face and the blood on the Iceland er's lip. "Is he botherin’ you, Mary'?*’ "It's my affair, Eddie." she said quietly. “Gisli, get away from here. I never want to see you again, un derstand?” Gisli Gislison smiled and turned to Bowery, who met his gaze with a black scowl. "You heard her,” he said. “Get out o' here!" "You’re a nice boy.” said Gisli. Imperturbably. "But you get mad too easy. Next time you get mad— , _/. ^ , * in a chair and a week’s rest ahead. In the afternoon Bowery was vis* iting at Tom Boyle’s farm aiuT told of the bad luck. It's not the week’s layoff that I mind, but the loss of gear and a big haul we’d counted on Monday. We've had two traps out for a week up the harden island shore, and we left a new gill net out over Sunday, and if a storm comes up we ll never see that net again. Be sides which, some o’ them blasted Charlevoix men set a trap for bass near the wreck on Hog island, and two boxes o’ fish from that trap would mean a hundred clear. Not a man to be got to help me neither.’* "You mind yer eye, Bowery,*' growled Tom Boyle. "Fishin’ bass is ag'in the law, and robbin’ other men's nets—** "They’ve no right in our waters," said Bowery, "and as for the law. ain’t this Beaver Island? How about Was on the clock when the Menomi nee come in. and I went aboard her and struck the o d man. ‘Give me anything from mate to wheel in’ but no lookout.’ I tells him. He looks me over, sour nnd hard, and says: ‘Gallegher, hey? I’ll bet you are one o' them Galleghors that's holdin’ down berths on half the lae boats this minute.” Delaney, who was second mate on the Man itou last year, he was standin' by. and !$p begun to grin. 'I got two Beaver Galleghers aboard here now,’ says the old man, ‘and I reckon- i can stand one more, so git aboard and go to wheelin’.' ” Bowery ceased speaking. A queer tension had fallen upon the group of us, and he was quick to sense it. He saw the stranger standing to one side, arms folded—a long, gaunt ft a like molded iron he was. He looked once at Bowery Galle gher, then he turned and went out with a lithe and silent step. "Where did that blow in from?” ejaculated Bowery. Hughie Big Biddy leaned forward and spit Into the stove. “Wash'n ton Island—one o’ them Icelanders from the Wisconsin side." he said awkwardly. Bowery glanced from face to face, then spoke: ‘‘Well, what Is it? You fellers ain't lettin' them squareheads run over here?” Willie Boyle smiled In that queer, knowing way of his. “Goin' to fish this fall, Bowery?” he asked gently. "With your broth er Joe, maybe?” •'L'h-huh. Dad's goin' to give us the Eleanor, Joe and I go half on the nets, and we'll get In on the perch in a couple of week's. What's that feller doing over here? Joy in’ over?" •'Something like that,” said Wil lie Boyle. ‘He’s got out trap nets here and there—nobody knows Just where. He don't flag ’em. He Just seems to feel where they nre.” “Huh?" Bowery stured, frowned perplexedly. "You don't mean he's fishln' over here? Who's with him?” "Nobody,” grunted Emmet Mc Cann. “The Sleelhenil is campin’ on Pismire Island; he's runnin’ his own nets.” “I’ll be blowed!” ejaculated Bow ery, staring around. "Everybody McCafTerty an' stepped him down, and niver the same step twicet? Aye, clever he Is! Gisli Gislison Is the name of him. On the ocean in the war he was, so Mary Boyle was tellin' me,” Bowery started at that. *J>nd how does Mary know about it?” ■'He’ll be takln’ her to the dance tonight, I guess,” said Willie Boyle, who was Mary's uncle, "It’s a free country, ye know, Eddie.” Bowery came to his feet, all the laughing good-humor gone from the face of him. “Any man,” said he, “who camps on Pismire, nnd fishes lonely, and don't flag his nets, is crazy. I s'pose you buy his fish, James?” His cousin James nodded. "Be ing the company’s agent, I play square. He gets fish, too. Eight hundred pounds today, a hundred an' forthy bucks. I'ses a net some, but mostly hooks. He has miles an’ miles of the hooks, they tell me.” "See you later,” said Eddie Bow ery, and went stamping out of the store. There was a space of silence. All were regretting that Bowery had not waited. They had first dwelt upon the good qualities of Gisli Gislison, there were other things to be said. "Bowery’s nobody's fool,” said Salty Gallagher. “He’ Warned.” Willie Boyle rose. "I’m not mis sin’ Hie dance this night,” said ho. smiling. "I ve got ten dollars that says Bowery cleanrf the Icelander. “Which way?" quavered old Dun levy. "Wld his fists or w4d Mary?” "Both ways.” said Willie Boyle. "Ten each way.” Willie Boyle was ten dollars poor er within the next two hours. Mary Boyle lived on her father's farm, four miles out of St. James on the Barney I-nke road. Tall and straight was Mary Boyle, deep-eyed, with a laugh in her gianee and • snh in hep throat when she sang the Irish songs beside her mother's Glsll Oisllson smiled at her. "You know well enough, my dear, that it's not.” said he. "Have you time to talk a little?" Mary bid him to a chair. He re. fused that, but stood by the ver anda post and looked at her. "Mary, I've no man helping me.” His voice was smooth and Inflexible. "I've a few trap nets, and a tub of gill nets In the boat, and miles of hooks, which Is the only way I can fish alone. Rut I can feel the fish. That's a living and more, my dear. I can buy a farm on Garden Island from the Injuns—■" "Please!" broke In the girl plead ingly. "No, no, Glsll—please don’t! You must not." "And why not?" he asked. Ice gleaming In his eyes. "I—J don't love you," she re turned. "Gove mnkes love, my dear," he said. The girl shook her head. "No." "You will not?” "It's Impossible. Don't nsk me " "Then I'll not. I'll come and take you.” "For a moment she was In shak ing dread of him. Then the blood came to her cheeks, and anger. "How dare you!" she flashed out. "If my father heard you, he'd take the whip to you—” "And I'd break his neck." said Glsll Glsli^on calmly. "Gisten, my dear! All these weeks you've walked and talked nnd danced with me, nnd now that your man is homo again you think you can forget It. Rut you can’t. I'll come nnd take you—like this.” He put out n hand to her nrm. nnd his fingers were like a steel band encircling It. And at that she gave him a man's blow, drawing look out! I'm a hotter man thnn you are. nnd I take what I want. Good by." ••Better man than I nm, la it?" said Bowery. "Off with your coat then—" "Knough o' that!" Old Toni Boyle hnd com* out to the door, and a dour man he waa. "You. Bowery! 1 heard how ye dul be fightin' this felly for an hour until be put ye out wid a kick—and I'll have none of It. You. what's yer-name! Git off'n this place and stay off'n it and keep yer eyes off'n my girl or I'll be puttin' a load o' duck shot into yer carcass. Git!" Gisll Glslisnn smiled a little and walked away. "Whut ye want here. Bowery?" growled Tom Boyle. "Come up to tell Mary that we got 600 pounds yesterday, first trip,” said Bowery, and laughed. "Corr-e In nnd eat dinner." said Tom Boyle. • • • • i For three weeks Gisll Oislison held Ids lonely camp on Pismire Island. He was not a good man to bother or disturb. One day a fish tug front Cheboygan came /trifling past the harbor nnd Kmmet McCann went out to her and brought her in with two battered men aboard, one of them with four ribs broken. Gisll Gisllson had found them at one of bis trnp nets, robbing It of perch. There was some talk of get ting the sheriff from tlie mainland but nothing came of it. Bowery and Big Joe nindo luck with their fishing, nnd the second September gale wns well due to arrive when Illg Joe caught Ida foot between boat nml wharf. On Sunday ltlg Joe sat with Ids foot Itowerjr hauled himself over i the rail, and looked up lo sew > tlie Icelander whirling al him 1 with fool upraised. you slaughterin' them mallard two weeks ago?” Tom Boyle grinned at that, ami •Bid no more. But a/ter a little Mary spoke up. a flash in her gray eye. 'Eddie, what almut taking me to help you? I've not been on the lake all summer, and I can handle the boat or haul nets while you gait! I'll go out tomorrow If you'll say the word!” To the cheeks of Bowery crept a rich glow. For well he knew, that he had only to speak his heart on the morrow to come home with finer fish than any lying in the tub. "Done with ye!” he exclaimed. ''We'll get off at 6, and by noon we ll I*, done and go ashore On Dar den to have dinner with the Danes.” That afternuon Bowery Oallegher walked luirk to town singing at the lop of his voice. At the crossroads he met the priest, who gave Bowery a hard look. "Eddie Bowery," he said, "is It drunk you are?” "Mighty nigh it. father." and Bow ery laughed with all his heart. "When will ye give over these wild ways?” said the priest sternly. "Tomorrow night, praise be!” said Bowery. That night Bowery told his brtdher. Big Joe. about taking the boat In the morning. "It's two men's work,” said Joe. Bowery came to his feet. "And It's two men's work to carry tha likes of you. ye big elephant!" says lie, and stoops over with his two hands to the seat of Big Joe's chair. Then he came up, and Big Joe with him. and a laugh on his Ups. "If we had Tlgh Oallegher hers to fiddle, I'd do a step with ye.” said Bowery, and set Big Joe on tits floor again, and never a puff from him. "Will I do?" "Ye'll do. ye blackguard!" said Big Joe; and himself could not have done the same trick. At 6 In the morning Bowery had the Eleanor clean as a whistle when Mary Boyle rattle down to the wharf Bowery stood In the boat below. "Jump for It!” said he, and Mary jumped. Me caught her and swung her down, and seated her in ths •tern. » "Take her out, while I mind tho engine,” and he shoved out. and In two seconds the open boat was heading down the harhor. A gray morning It was, the wind switching hack from west to south