The Horry herald. (Conway, S.C.) 1886-1923, February 18, 1915, Image 7
ParrotI
& Co. I
I
By I.
Harold MacGrath
Author otf ; |
*'Th?CarpctFroM "agiliif'
"Th* Place ?/ IIfiimymmmrft
Etc. j
(Cow^UslvtbyTIc^^
8YNOPSI3.
CHAPTER i?Warrington, an American
adventurer, axul James, liia servant, with
a caged parrot, the trio known up und
down the Irraxvuddy us Parrot & Co..
travel along the road -to the landing,
bound for Rangoon to cash a draft for
800,000 rupees.
CHAPTER II?Elsa Chotwood. rich
Americun girl tourist, sees "Warrington
come aboard the bout at ihe .landing and,
amazed at his likeness to her fiance,
Arthur Ellison, asks the purser to introduce
her. Conservative English passengers
are shocked at her breach of the conybnttonuUluvu
CHAPTER ITI ? The purser tells Elsa
that Warrington, the outcast adventurer,
has beaten a syndicate and sold his oil
claims for .<120,000. Warrington .puts
Rajah, the parrot, through his tricks for
Elsa und warns her against acquaintance
with unknown adventurers?himself, 'In
fact.
CHAPTER TV?Warrington and Elsa
pass two golden days together on the
river. Martha, Elsa's companion, warns
her that there is gossip.
CHAPTER V.
Back to Life.
The two days between Prome and
Rangoon were distinctly memorable
for the subtle changes wrought in the
man and wnmnn Thntn ffu"""
!%?> . J f-j i UV-^P \J X.
mind and manner which had once been
the man's began to tind expression.
Physically, his voice became soft and
mellow; his hands became full of emphasis;
his body grew less and less
clumsy, more and more leonine. The
blunt speech, the irritability in argument,
the stupid pauses, the painful
. study of cunning phrases, the suspicion
and reticence that figuratively encrust
the hearts of shy and lonely men,
these vanished under her warm if careless
glances.
If the crust of barbarism is thick
that of civilization is thin enough. As
Warrington went forward E!sa stopped
and gradually went back, not far, but
far enough to cause her to throw down
the bars of reserve, to cease to guard
her impulses against the invasion of
Interest and fascination. She faced the
truth squarely. The inan fascinated
her. He was like a portrait with following
eyes. She spoke familiarly of
her affairs (always omitting Arthur);
oha fo 1 l/n/l nf hrt?? ? & At r -- I
M??V ttti a^u wi IIUI 11 ft V CIS, U1 IJHf I (I*
( mous people she had met, of the wonderful
pageants she had witnessed. It
was not her fault that, with the exception
of Martha, who didn't count,
they two were the only passengers.
This condition of affairs was diiectly
chargeable to fate; and before the
boat reached Rangoon, Elsa was quite
willing tp let fate shift and set the
scenes how it would.
The phase that escaped her entirely
was this, that had he not progressed
she would have retained her old poise,
the old poise of which she was never
again to be mistress. It is the old
tale?sympathy to lift up another first I
steps down. And never had her sympathy
gone out so quickly to any mortal.
Elsa had a horror of loneliness,
and this man seemed to be the living 1
presentment of the word. What struggles,
and how simply he recounted
them! What things he had seen, what
o f\ f 11 roo V^o/1 KaTo 11 /vv* V> ? ?w-k ? ?
MVI I uuvuiuo uuu uciaucu mill, WUiU I Urnanfj
and mystery! She wondered
if there had been a woman in his life
and if she had been the cause of his
downfall. Every day of the past ten
years lay open for her to admire or
condemn, but beyond these ten years
there was a Chinese wall, over which
she might not look. Only once had she
provoked the silent negative nod of
his head. He was strong. Not the
smallest corner of the veil was she
permitted to turn aside. She walked
hither and thither along the scarps and
bastions of the barrier, but never
found the breach.
"Will you come and dine with me tonight?"
she asked, as they left the
boat.
"No, Miss Innocence."
"That's silly. There isn't a soul I
know here."
"But," gravely he replied, "there
are many here who know me."
"Which infers that my invitation is
unwise?"
"Absolutely unwise. Frankly, I
ought not to be seen with you."
> "Why? Unless, indeed, you have
not told me the truth. Where's the
harm?"
I "For myself, none. On the boat It
did not matter so much. IUwas a situation
which neither of us could foresee
.nor prevent. I have told you that
people here look askance at me bocause
thpy know nothing about mo,
t save that I came from the States. And
they are wise. I should be a cad if I
accepted your invitation to dinner."
."Then I am not to see you again?"
The smile would have lured him
across three continents. "Tomorrow I
promise to call and have tea with you,
much against my better judgment."
"Oh, if you don't want to come . . ,**
"Dont want to come!"
Something in his eyes caused Elsa
to speak hurriedly. "Good-by until toI
f %
morrow."
She gave him her hand for a mo
ment, stepped into the carriage, which
already held-Mart ha and the luggage,
and then drove off to the Strand hotel.
He Stood with his helmet in his
band. A fine, warm rain was falling,
but he was not conscious of it. It
seemed incredible that time should
produce -such a change within the
space of seventy hours, a little more,
a little less. As she turned and waved!
a friendly hand he knew'that)the desolation
which hadibeen his for>ten years'
was nothing as compared to that whitih
.QhaI/A II A ^r?!
a man's salvation. And it marked the
end of Warrington's recidivation.
When he reached his lodging house
he sought the Burmese landlady. She
greeted him with a smile and a stiff
little shake of the hand. He owed
her money, but that was nothing. Had
he not sent her drunken European
sailorman husband about his business?
ITnd he not freed her from a
tyranny of lists and curses? It had
not affected her in the least to learn
that, her sailorman had been negligently
married all the way from Yokohama
to Colombo. She was free of
him. t
Warrington spread out a five-pound
r.ote and laid ten sovereigns upon it.
'There we are," he said genially; "all '
paid up to date."
"You go way?" the ?ml)e leaving
her pretty moon-face. "You like?"
with -a gesture which Indicated the
parlor and Its contents. "Be boss?
Half an' hhir?"
He shook his head soherly. She
picked up the money and jingled it
in <her hand.
' GooNby!" 'softly.
''Oh, dim not going until next Thursday."
The smile returned to her face, and
her body bent in a kind of kotow. He
was *o *i)ig, and his beard glistened
like the gdld leaf .on the Shwe Dagon
pagoda. She -understood. The syhite
to the -white and the brown to the
brown.; it ^as the law.
Warrington -went Tip to his room. He
was welcomed by a screech from the
parrot -and a dignified salaam from
James, who was trimming the wick of
the oil lamp. For the last year and
a half this room had served as headquarters.
Many a financial puzzle had
been pieced together within these dull,
drab walls; many a dream had gone
w..w v|<unw HiMiuorijr u i ncr rtniillH
(Always Omitting Arthur).
now fell upon his lioart. She was as
unattainable as the north star; and
nothing, time nor circumstance, could
bridge that incalculable distance. His
heart hurt him. He must see her 110
more after the morrow. Enchantment
and happiness were two words which
fate had ruthlessly scratolied from liis
book of days.
Mr. Hooghly had already started oft
toward the town, the kit bag and the
valise slung across liis shoulders, the
parrot cage bobbing :at his side. He
knew where to go; an obscure lodging
for men in the heart of the business
section, known in jest by the derelicts
as the Stranded.
Warrington, becoming suddenly
aware that his pose, if prolonged,
would become ridiculous, put 011 his
helmet and proceeded to the Bank of
Burma. Today was Wednesday;
Thursday week he would sail for Sin
gaporo and close the chapter. Before
banking hours were over his financial
affairs were put in order, aud he
walked forth with two letters of credit
and enough banknotes and gold to
carry him around the world if he so
planned. Next he visited a pawnshop
and laid down a dozen mutilated
tickets, roeeivlm* in o
? cj - ? ? ii u iiauusome
watch, emerald cuff buttons,
some stickpins, some pearls and a
beautiful old ruby ring, a gift of the
young niaharajali of IMaipur. The ancient
Chinaman smiled. This was a
rare occasion. Men generally went
out of h's dark and dingy shop anil
nevermore returned.
"Much money. Can do now?" affably.
"Car do," replied Warrington, slln
ping the treasures into a pocket. What
a struggle it had been to nold them!
Somehow op other he had always been
able to meet (tie 'rPerest, though, often
to accomplish this feat, he had been
forced to go without tobacco lor weeks.
There is a vein of superstition in all
of us. deny it how we will. Warrington
was as certain of the fact as he
was of the rising and the setting of
the sun. that if he lost these heirlooms
he never could go back to the
old, familiar world, the world in which
he had moved and lived and known
happiness. Never again would he part
with them. A hundred thousand dollars,
almost; with his simple wants,
he was now a rich man.
"Buy ling?" asked the Chinaman.
He rolled a mandarin's ring carelessly
across the showcase. "Gold; all
heavy; velly old, velly good ling."
"What does it say?" asked Warrington,
pointing to the characters.
"Good luck and plospelity; velly good
signs." j
It was an unusually beautiful ring, J
unusual in that it had no setting of \
jade. Warrington offered three sov- {
ereigns for it. The Chinaman smiled
and put the ring away. Warrington
laughed and laid down five pieces of
gold. The Chinaman swept them up
in his lean, dry hands. And Warrington
departed, wondering if she would
accept such a token.
By four o'clock he arrived at the
Chinese tailors in the Suley Pagoda
road. He ordered, a suit of pongee, to
be done at noon the following day. He
added to this orders for four other
suits, to be finished within a week.
Then he went to the shoemaker, to the
hatter, to the haberdasher. All this
business because he wanted her to
realize what he had been and yet could
be. Thus vanitv snmAtlmoa wnrUo
up to the oelling, only to sink and dissipate
like smoke. There were no pictures
on the walls, no photographs.
In one corner, on the floor, was a stack
of dilapidated books. These were
mostly old novels and tomes dealing
with geological and mathematical matters;
laughter and tears and adventure,
sandwiched in between the dry
posltivenesB >of straight lines and
squares and circles and numerals without
end; (D'Artagnan hobnobbing with
Euclid! Warrington was an educated
man, but he was in no sense a scholar.
James applied a match to the wick,
and the general poverty of the room
was instantly made manifest.
"Well, old sober-top, suppose we
square up and part like good friends?"
"I am ulways the sahib's good
friend."
"Itighrt as rain!' Warrington emptied
his pockets upon the table; silver
and gold and paper. "Eh? That's the
stuff. Without it the world's not worth
a tinker's dam. Count out seventy
pounds, James."
Calmly James took sovereign after
sovereign until he had withdrawn the
required sum. "Cold is henw ?nliih "
he commented. "You go back home?"
"YeB. Something Like home. I am
going to Paris, where good people go
when they die. I am going to drink
vintage wines, eat trufhes and mushrooms
and caviar and kiss the pretty
girls tn Maxim's. I've been in prison
for ten years. 1 am free, free!" Warrington
flung out his arms. "Good-by,
jungles, deserts, hell heat and thirsty
winds! Good-by, (rusts and rags and
hunger! I am going to live."
"The sahib has fever," observed the
unimaginative Eurasian.
"That's the word; fever. I am burning
up. Here; go to the Strand and
get a bottle of champagne, and bring
some ice. Buy a box of the best cigars,
-and hurry back. Then put this
junk in the trunk. And d n the
smell of kerosene!"
Jaraes raised his hand warningly.
Prom the adjoining room came the
^ ~ O - 1
Mjuiiu ut a, quarrel.
"Rupees one hundred and forty, and
I want it now, you sneak!"*
"Rut. I Lold you I couldn't square up
until the first of the month."
"You had uo business to play poker,
then, if you knew you couldn't settle."
"Who asked me to play?" shrilled
the other "You did. Well, 1 haven t
got the money."
"You miserable little welcher! The
ring is worth a hundred and forty "
"You'll never get your dirty fingers
inside ot that."
"Oh, I shan't, eh?"
Warrington heard a scuffling, which
was presently followed by a low, choking
sob. He rushed fearlessly into the
other room Pinned to the wall was
a young man with a weak, pale lace
The other man presented nothing
more than the back of his broad, muscular
shoulders. The disparity in
I weight and height was sufficient to
rouse Warrington's sense of fair play.
Besides, he was in a rough mood himself.
"Here, that'll do," he cried, seizing
the heavier man by the collar. "It
isn't worth while to kill a man for a
SI
KB
yMi I ?li 1 yt ryfi
i ii mmJa
"Good Godl" He Murmured.
handful of rupees. Let go, you fool!''
lie used his strength. The man and
his victim swung in a half-circle tnd
crashed to the floor.
With a snarl and an oath the gambler
sprang to his feet and started
toward Warrington. He stopped short.
"Good God!" he murmured; and -etreatcd
until he touched footboard
of the bed.
V\ V >t . r . /. J ?
CHAPTER VI.
In the Next Room.
"Craig?" Warrington whispered the
word, as it he feared the world might
hear the deadly menace in Jis voice.
For murder leaped up in his heait as
flame leaps up n pine Kindling.
The weak young man got to his'
knees, then to his feet. He steadied
himself by clutching the back of a
chair. With one haud he felt of his
throat tenderly.
"He tried to kill me, the black* i
guard." he croaked.
"Craig, it is you! For ten years!
I've never thought of you without mur- j
der in my heart. Newell Craig, and
here, right where I can put my hands
upon you! Oh, this old world is
small." Warrington laughed. It was
a high, thin sound.
The young man looked from his enemy
to his deliverer, and back again.
What new row was this? Never bofore
had he seen the blackguard with
that look in his dark, handsome, predatory
face. It typified fear. And who
was this big, blond chap whose fingers
were working so convulsively?
"Craig," said the young man, 'you
get out of here, and if you ever coine
1 At- I - ? * * * ? 1
uouiering me, i n snoot you. Hear
me?"
This direful threat did not seem to
stir the sense of hearing in either of
the two men. Suddenly the blond man
caught the door and swung it wide.
"Craig, a week ago I'd have throttled
you without the least compunction.
Today I can't touch you. But get out
of here as fast as you can. You might
have gone feet foremost. Go! Out of
Rangoon, too. I may change my mind."
The man called Craig walked out,
squaring his shoulders with a touch of
bravado that did not impress even the
plucked pigeon. Warrington stood
listening until he heard the hall door
close sharply.
"Thanks," said the bewildered youth.
Warrington whirled upon him savagely.
"Thanks? Don't thank me,
you weak-kneed fool!"
"Oh, I say, now!" the other protested.
"Be silent! If you owe that scoundrel
anything, refuse to pay it. He
imver won a penny in his life without
n nr T/" e ~ *
vu^u'in^. ivcvjj uui ui ma wayj Keep
out of the way of all men who prefer
to deal only two hands." And with
this advice Warrington stopped out
into the hallway and shut the door
rudely.
"Pay the purser and get a box of cigars,"
Warrington directed James.
"Never mind about the wine. 1 shan't
want it now."
James went out upon the errands immediately.
Warrington dropped down in the
creaky rocking-chair, the only one in
the boarding house. He stared at the
worn and faded carpet. How dingy
everything looked! What a sordid
rut he had been content to lie in!
Chance: tc throw this man across his
path when he had almost forgotten
him, forgotten that he had sworn to
break the man's neck over his knees!
In the very next room! And he nad
permitted him to go unharmed simply
because bis mind was full of a girl hewould
never see again after tomorrow
What J ho mcpc.1 'i'-i"" 1 11
~ .UUVMI UUJIUg U VUi ilt'l U :
Wnat had caused him to forsake th<
easy pluckings of Broadway i? ex
change for a dog's life on packet boats,
in a squalid boarding house like this
one, and in dismal billiard halls? Wire
tapper, racing tout, stool pigeon, a
cheater at cards, blackmailer and trafficker
in baser things; in the next
room, and he had let him go unharmed.
Ten years ago and thirteen thousand
miles away. In the next room. He
laughed unpleasantly. Chivalric fool,
silly fNcn Quixote, sentimental dreamer.
to have made a hash of his life
in this manner!
He leaned toward the window sill
and opened the cage. Rajah walked
out, muttering.
*******
When it was possible, Elsa preferred
to walk. She was young and
strong and active, and she went along
with a swinging stride that made obvious
a serene confidence in her ability
to take care of herself. What the unknowing
called willfulness was simply
natural independence, which she asODVf
D/l li'R ^ -1 ? ? 1 1 1 *
ovi itu n nciicvci ut'Ccibiun ueinanuea il.
She loved to prowl through tho
strange streets and alleys and stranger
shops; it was a joy to ramble about,
minus the irritating importunities of
guide or attendant. It was great fun.
but it was not always wise. There
were some situations which only men
could successfully handle. Elsa would
never confess that there had been
awkward moments when, being an excellent
runner, she had blithely taken
to her heels.
In her cool, white drill, her wide,
white pith helmet, she presented a
charming picture. Tho exerciso had
given her cheeks a bit of color, and
her eyes sparkled and flashed like
raindrops. This morning she had
taken Martha along merely to still ner
protests.
"It's all right so long as we keep to
the main streets,' said the harried
Martha, "but 1 do not like the idea
of roaming about in tho native quarters.
This is not like Europe. The
hotel manager said we ought to have
a man."
"Ho is looking out for his commission.
Heavens! what is the matter
with everybody? One would think, the
way people put themselves out tp warn
you, that murder and robbery were
daily occurrences in Asia. I've been
here lour months, and the only disagreeable
moment 1 have known was
caused by a white man."
"Because we have been lucky so far,
It's no sign that we shall continue soj"
And Martha shut# her lips grimly. Her
worry was not couhayd to this partl^yV
? ^
lar phase of Elsa's imperious moods;
it was general. There was that blond ,
man with the parrot. She would never
feel at ease until they were out of
Yokohama, homeward bound. ]
"I feel like a child this morning," ,
said Elsa. "I want to run and play
and shout."
"All the more reason why you should
have a guardian. . . . Look, Elsa!"
Martha caught the girl by the arm.
"There's that man we left at Manda-1
lay coming toward us. Shall we go
into this shop?"
"No, thank you! There is no reason
why I should hide in a butcher shop
simply to avoid meeting the man.
We'll walk straight past him. If he
speaks we'll ignore him."
"1 wish we were in a civilized couqtry."
"This man is supposed to be civilized.
Don't let him catch vour eve.
Go on; don't lag."
Craig stepped in front of them, smiling
as he raised his helmet. "This is
an unexpected pleasure."
Elsa, looking coidly beyond him, attempted
to pass.
"Surely you remember me?"
"1 remember an insolent cad," replied
Elsa, her eyes beginning to burn
dangerously. "Will you stand aside?"
He threw a swift glance about. Ho
saw with satisfaction ttyat none but
natives was in evidence
Elsa's glance roved, too, with a littlo
chill of despair. In stories Warrington
would have appeared about this timo
and soundly trounced this impudent
scoundrel. She realized that she must
settle this affair alone. She was not
a soldier's daughter for nothing.
"Stand aside!"
"Hoity-toity!" he laughed. He had
been drinking liberally and was a
shade reckless. "Why not be a good |
fellow? Over here nobody minds. I
know a neat little restaurant. Bring
the old lady along," with a genial nod
toward the quaking Martha.
Resolutely Elsa's hand went up to
her helmet, and with a flourish drew
out one of the long steel pins.
"Oh, Elsa!" warned Martha.
"Be still! This fellow needs a lesson.
Once more, Mr. Craig, will you
stand aside?"
Had he been sober he would have
seen the real danger in the young
woman's eyes.
"Cruel!" he said. "At least, one
kiss," putting out his arms.
Elsa, merciless in her fury, plunged
the pin into his wrist. It stung like a
hornet, and, with a gasp of pain, Craig
leaped back out of range, sobered.
"Why. you she-cat!"
"I warned . you," she replied, her
voice steady and low. "The second stab
will be serious. Stand aside."
He stepped into the gutter, biting
his lips and straining his uninjured |
:and over the hurting throb in his j
wrist. He had had wide experience '
| with women. His advantage had al- j
vays been in the fact that the general j
un of them will submit to insult 1
ather than create a scene. This dark- ]
lyed Judith was distinctlv an excepion
to the rule. Gad! She might )
have missed his wrist and jabbed him
u the throat. lie swore, and walked
off down the street.
Elsa fA a pace which Martha, with j
her wabbling knees, tound dillicult to
maintain.
"You might have killed him!" she j
:ried breathlessly.
"You can't kill that kind of a snake
with a hatpin; you have to stamp on
ts head. TUit I rather believe it will
>e some time before Mr. Craig will
igain make the mistake of insulting
a. woman because she appears to bo
defenseless." Elsa's chin was 1n the j
air. The choking sensation in lie/ I
throat began to subside. "You know '
and the purser knows what happened j
on the boat to Mandalay. He was (
plausible and affable and good look- (
ing, and the mistake was mine. I ,
seldom make thein. I kept quiet because
the boat was full up, and as a
rule I hate scenes. Men like that
know it. If I had complained he would
have denied his actions, inferred that
I was evil-minded. Heavens, I know
jlr *
Jpj^ lljp^
"Now, Not a Single Word of This to
Anyone."
the breed! Now not a single word of
this to anyone. Mr. Craig. I fancy,
will be the last person to speak of it."
"You had better put the pin back
into your hat." suggested Martha.
"Pah! 1 had forgotten it." Klsa
flung the weapon far into the street.
Once they turned into Merchant
street, both felt the tension relax. Martha
would luivo liked to sit down, even
on the curb.
"I despise mjm," alio volunteered.
"I am beginning to believe that few
of them are worth a thought. Those
who aren't fools are knaves."
"Are you sure of your judgment in
regard to this man Warrington? How
can you tell that he is any different
from that man Craig?"
"He is different, that Is all. This
afternoon he will come to tea. 1 shall
want you to be with us. Hemember,
not a word of this disgraceful affair.'*
"Ah, Elsa, 1 am afraid; 1 am more
afraid of Warrington than oi a man
of Craig's type."
"We%re always quarreling, Martha;
and it doesn't do either of us any
good. When you oppose me 1 find that
that is the very thing I want to do.
You haven't any diplomacy."
Warrington's appearance that afternoon
astonished Elsa. She had naturally
expected some change, but
scarcely such elegance. He was, without
question, one of the handsomest
men she had ever met. He was handsomer
than Arthur because he was
more manly in type. What a mystery
he was! She greeted him cordially,
without restraint; but for all that, a
little shiver stirred the tendrils of hair
at the nape of her neck.
"The most famous man in Rangoon
today," she said, smiling.
"So you have read that tommy-rot
in the newspaper?"
They sat on her private balcony, under
an awning. Rain was threatening.
Martha laid aside her knitting and did
her utmost to give her smile of welcome
an air of graciousness.
"I shouldn't eall it tommy-rot," Elsa
declared. "It was not chance. It was
pluck and foresight. Men who possess
those two attributes get about
everything worth having."
"There are exceptions," studying the
ferrule of his cane.
"Is there really anything you want
now and can't have?"
Martha looked at her charge in
dread and wonder.
4a V\ r% i\\rvr*%? '' 1*^ J
i uv.1^ io me iiiuuu, iic iinnwert'u.
"I linve always wanted that. But thero
it hangs, just as far out of reach as
ever."
Elsa's curiosity today was keenly
alive. She wanted to ask a thousand
questions, but the case with which the
man wore his new clothes, used his
voice and eyes and hand's, convinced
her more than ever that the subtlest
questions she might devise would not
stir him into any confession. That he
had once been a gentleman of her own
class, and more, something of an exquisite,
there remained no doubt in
her mind. What, had he done? What
in the world had he done?
On his part he regretted the presence
of Martha; for, so strongly had
this girl worked upon his imagination
that lie had called with the deliberate
intention of telling her everything. But
he could not open the gates of his
heart before a third person, one he intuitively
knew was antagonistic.
Conversation went afield; pictures
and music and t.he polished capitals of
the world; the latest books and plays.
The information iu regard to these
Elsa supplied him. They discussed
q Ion t 1\ n *\r/>l?lor?i o 1 1 \ . x .!.??> ? - 1 -
UIOVI UIO (II UMICIIIO l/l 11113 lliiy Its II?iUJ\*
ly as if they had been in an occidental
drawing ?oom. Martha's tea was bitter.
She liked Arthur, who was always
charming, who never surprised
or astonished anybody, or shocked
them with unexpected phases of character;
and each time she looked at
Warrington. Arthur seemed to recede.
And when the time came for the guest
to take his leave, Martha regretted to
find that the major part of her antagonism
was gone.
"I wish to thank you, Miss Chetwood,
for your kindness to a very lonely
man. It isn't probable that I shall
see you again. 1 sail next Thursday
for Singapore." He reached into a
pocket. "I wonder if you would consider
it an impertinence if 1 offered
you this old trinket?" He held out
the mandarin's ring.
"What a beauty!" she exclaimed.
"Of course I'll accept it. It is very
kind of you. 1 am inordinately fond of
such things. Thank you. How easily
it slips ever my linger!"
"Chinamen have very slender fingers,"
he explained. "Good-by. Those
characters say 'Good luck and prosperity.'
"
No expressed desire of wishing to
meet again; just an ordinary everyday
farewell; and she liked him all the
better for his apparent lack of sentiment.
"Good-by," she said. She winced, for
his hand was rough-palmed and strong.
A little later she saw him pass
down the street. He never turned and
looked back.
"And why," asked Martha, "did you
not tell the man that we sail on the
same ship?"
"You're a simpleton, Martha." Elsa
turned the ring round and round on
her finger. "If I had told him, he
would have canceled his sailing and
taken another boat."
(Continued next week)
Ten Years in Pen.
Withdrawing his plea of not guilty
to a charge of murder at New Bern,
N. C. last week and entering a sub mis
sal, Jcr.se Creel, white, charged with
the murder of Cannon Fulford in New
Bern on Christmas eve last, was senenced
to serve a term of ten years in
the State prison.
The trial of Creel began on We !ncsdav
afternoon and before the close of
the day's session the jury had been
drawn and the State had placed on the
stand all of its witnesses and had rest
e<l its side of the case. The defense
had begun placing witnesses on the
stand on Wednesday and several ha "
testified as to the chit:actor of the
prisoner before the recess was taken.