Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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J Parrot!! I & Co. | Harold MacGrath j i 1 Author of | I TheCnrpet 1'iom Duffdcxcl," I I "The Placo of Houcymoons," I I Etc, 1 1-4?I I Will I I I IIMIHnB I BVMnnoia v? i nuroio. CHAPTER i?Warrington, an American adventurer, and James, his- -servant, with \ | 5 parrot, tlie trio known up and J down tho Irruwaddy us lParrot & Co.. r trave along the road to tho landing. pound for itanguon to ca.sh a draft for lj 80O.OOO rupees. r CHAPTER II?Klsa Ohetwood, rich I \ American girl tourist, fcees Warrington i , Conio aboard the boat at the landing and, amazed at his likeness to her flunco, Arthur Ellison, asks the. purser to introduce her. Conservative English passengers are shocked at iter breach oi' tlio conyonannull*l..a CHAPTER III ? The purser tells Klsa [that Warrington, the outcast adventurer, i has beaten a syndicate -^tiul sold ids oil i claims for ?20,000. Warrington puts . Rajah, tlje parrot, through Ids tricks for I * Klsa and warns her against acquaintance j with unknown adventurers?himself, ir. , fact. EU ' \V CHAPTEI? IV?Warrington and Kb-a pass two golden days together on the | river. Martha, Els.iV. companion, warns. thor thav there is gossip. CHAPTER V?Tn Rangoon Warrington banks his draft, pays old debts, and whiSo settling witli J anion In his old lodgings overhears and interferes in a row ovor cards In the next mom CHAPTER VI?Warrington finds that the row in the next room is caused by an | enemy, Newell Craig, and threatens to shoot him unless l?? loaves town. ETsa goes for a walk with Martha, is annoyed by Craig aiul stabs him witli a hatpin. Warrington bids lOlsn good-by. Rho does not tell him that she is to sail on trio same ship for Singapore. J* OiAPTKR VTT?Martha writes to Ariz' thur Ellison of tiie rapidly growlrg y friendship between if.lsa a.->d the ouir?nt flB1 Amerban adventurer. Warrington dls[ j covers Eisa on the firagnpore steamer and : ' realizes his hopeless love and Ids duty fo U J protect her against himself. Hlsa tells tt j hint of her engagcmMit. IK 1 ^APTHH VTTT ? Warrington avoids |fi.j Klsn, who thinks be.Tnay he III and mnltes *rjH Inquiries. regardless of the mlsinterprctatlon of her I'onccni. Craig is aboard, is IB warned by Warrington, and calls him Paul, so lotting him know that his chlvj airy and loyalty of ten years before irrtvc ay gone for nothing. u j CHAPTRR tx -Warrington ceases >to If I avoid Rlua. < 'ra h; stirs up OVil goaltlp. V / Elsa tells Warrington of th< hatpin InclS i dent and lie hunts np Craig, on murder I / bent, only t<> tind liirn xtrotcllCd out dltlflk T on deck. A] CHAPTER X?Warrington turns tho Hr / hose on Craig. He tells Elsa that he is Hi' a man under a ckXHl and to he avoided. He ' but Elsa refuses. She gets the cut dire.'t 'from society passenR".,8. V CHAPTER XT -At Penang Mallow, who K drove W trrington firoia his plantation H| when he learned his ?lory. comes aboard Warrington tells Elsa that Malolw awl Craig both will tell that he spent money that did not belong to him over the gam- | bllng ta.ble to Craig, and asks her not to speak to him again. H; CHAPTER XTT?MaWow halts Craig. ^| I wlln WeeilR tllv lemtinr *I t Slinmnnni irVfc calls on her father's olh 'friend the American consul general. Mallow also calls , i and relates the steamer gossip about Klaa. 1 i ^ I I CHAPTER XTTT?Warrington calls or. ly the consul general and sends a cable to ; j the Andes Construction company, offering | to restore tho stolen money If they will I lift the ban. TOlsa defends Warrington to the consul general, who 1? dubious. I t CHAPTER XIV?Elsa dines at tii?> genI 1 hul general's and meets the old English j I j colonel who cut her on t be ship. TTe apol- | ] J ogixes, talks with her about conventional j | j society rules and "tolls her that WarringI J ton's real name Is Paul Ellison. 1/ chapter XV?Bribed by Wallow and I \ Craig, a Chinaman robs Warrington of | i :his letter of Ks^dlt.at the luxM). I) And tomorrow! What would torn orJ row bring? Would they refuse ? Would' I', they demand the full penalty? Eight I thousand with interest was a small sum to such a corporation. Ho had I often wondered .if tbey had searched I for him. Ten years. In the midst ol I these cogitations ihe saw the group at H the table rise and .break up. Elsa en 'tered the hotel. Warrington turned ? away and Walked .aimlessly toward K town. For hours 'Iks wandered about. seeing nothing, he&nuig nothing; ano it was long past midnight when ho A sought his room, restless and weary but wide awake. He called for a stSiX jF peg, .drank it.i and tumbled into berf. V , He was whirled away into broken |?/ <dreatto3. He was iu the Awdes, toiling I with his girders over unspeakable ' -chasms. A shifting glance at the old . billiard room in the club, Uie letter, and his subsequent wild night of in* ji iox'.cation, the one time in his life f -when he had drunk hard and long, f. Back to the Indian deserts and jungles. ' And ho heard the shriek of parrots. Y The shriek of parrots. He sat up. | Even in his dream he recognized that a cry. Night or day, Rajah always I shrieked when someone entered the I room. Warrington silently slid out of R bed and dashed to the door which led r to the gallery. A body thudded W'against his. He rntitrht hnia Tl'" T- M IIV ^/7body was nude to the waist and shielled evilly of sweat and fish oil. (^Something wliipiike struck him across the face. It was a queue. Warrington struck out, but missed. I Instantly a pair of powerful arms 'wound about him, bearing and bendking him backward. Jlis right arm lay J parallel with the invader's chest. He lb rough t up the heel of his palm viciously against the Chinaman's chin, ht was sufficient to break the hold. Then followed a struggle that always remained nightmarish to Warrington. Hither and thither across the room,! miraculously avoiding chairs, tables j land bed, they surged. He heard a ring of steel upon the cement floor, and [breathed easier to learn that the thief | Hind dropped his knife. Warrington never thought to call out for help, The old fear t>f bringing people about \x.\m i bad become a habit. Once, in tho whirl of things, his hand came into contact with a belt whic h hung about tho other's middle. He caught at it and heaved. It broke, and the subsequent tinkling over the floor advised him of tho fact that it was his own gold. Tho broken belt, however, brought tho light to an abrupt cud. The oily body suddenly slipped away. "Warrington beheld a shadow in tho doorway; it loomed there a second against the skyline, and vanished. He ran to the gallery railing, but it was too dark below to discern anything. He returned to his room, breathing hard, the obnoxious odor of sweat and fish oil in his nose. He turned on the lights and without waiting to investigate, went into tho shower rdom and stood under the tepid deluge. Even after a thorough rub-down the taint vw in the air. The bird was muttering and turning; somersaults. "Tiumks, Rajah, old sport! He'd have got me but for you. Let's see the damage." He picked up the belt. The paper money was intact, nmd what gold hs*d fa! J on he could easily find, lie then took up his vest . . . and dropped it, stunned The letter of credit for ii&lf his fortune was gone. He sank back upon the bed and stared mihser:ably at the fallen garment. Gone! Fifty thousand dollars. Someone who knew! Presently lie stood up and tugged at his beard. After all, why should ho worry*' A cable to Rangoon would stop payments. A new letter could be issued. It would take time, but he had plenty of that. Idly he reached for the broken cigar that lay at the foot of the bod. lie would have tossed it aside as one of his own had 'not the carnclian band attracted his attention. He hadn't smoked that quality of tots cco in years. He turned it. over and over, and it grew more and more familiar. Mallow's! OK A PTE-R XVt. Who Is Paul Ellison? For some time Warrington sat upon the edge of the bed and studied the cigar, balatieed it upon hie pedin, as if striving to weigh accurately Mallow's part in a scrimmage like this. The copra grower assuredly would be the last man to give a cigar to .a Chinaman. Mallow, rich, was Miillow disposed of, at least logically; (unless indeed it was -a bit of anticipatory reprisal. That might possibly be. A drunken Mallow was capable of much, for ail that his knowledge of4 letters of credit might necessarily be primitive. Yet Mallow was no fool. He would scarcely mice such a risk for so unI siablgand eh&ncely a thing us revenge of this order. Craig? lie hadn't the i courage. Strong and muscular as he was, ho was the average type of ? gambler, courageous only when armed with a pack cf cards, sitting opposite [a fool and his money. Hut Craig and Mallow together. . . . lie slipped off the label. It was worth ^preserving. With an unpleasant laugh 5t-?* began .to get into his.clothes. Why not? The more he thought of it, the more he was positive that the two had keen behind this assault. The belt would have meant a good deal to <Craig. There were <a thousand Chinese in Singapore who would cut a man's throat for a Straits dollar. Either Mallow or Craig had seen him counting ;tlie m-juey on shipboard. iHe looked at his watch; quarter iil'ter two. It' they were not in their looms lie would have good grounds for his suspicions. Mo stole along tho gallory and down the s'.airs to the ofiice, lust m f .if; to sec; Die two enter, much the worse for drink. Mallow was boisterous, and Craig was sullen. The former Dogma to argue with the night manager, who politely shook his head. Mallow grew insistent, but the night manager refused to break the rules of the hotel. Warrington inferred that Mallow was demanding liquor, and his inference was correct. .He moved a little .closer, still hidden behind the potted .palms. "All right," cried Mallow. "We'll go back to town for it." "I've had enough," declared Craig sullenly. "Let's cut out booze and play a little hand or two." "Fine!" Mallow slapped his thigh as he laughed. "Nice bird I'd be for you to pluck. Think of something else. The billiard hall is open." Craig shook bis head. When Mallow was argumentative it was no time to play billiards. "Bah!" snarled Mallow. "Since you won't drink like a man nor play billiards, I'm for bed. And just as the fun was beginning!" Craig nudged him warniugly. Mailow stalked away, and Craig, realizing that the night was done, followed. Warrington had seen and heard enough. He was tolerably sure. It might have been out of pure deviltry, so far as Mallow was concerned; but Craig had joined in hope of definite profits. A fine pair of rogues! He eyed indecisively the stairs and then glanced toward the brilliant night outside. It would not be possible to sleep in that room again. So he tiptoed out to the cafe veranda and dropped into a comfortable chair. He would hunt them up some time during the day. He would ask Mallow for fifty pounds, and he sincerely hoped that Mallow would refuse him. For he was grimly resolved that Mallow should pay for those half-truths, more damning than bald lies. It was due to Mallow that he was never more to see or spealc to Elsa. He emptied the ash from his cutty which he stowed away. The great heartache and the greater oUlllusion would not have fallen to hi- lot had Elsa been frank in HauJk pp^ po< n. had she but told him that she was to sail 011 the same steamer. He would have put over his sailing He would have gone his way, still bellev- ; lug himself to bo a Bayard, a Clalahad or any other of those simple dreamers who put honor and chivalry above and before all other things. Elsa! He covered?liis fr.ee with his hands and remained in that position for a long while, so long indeed that the caolics, whose business it was to scrub the tilings every morning at four, went about their work quietly for fear of disturbing him. Elsa ntul retired almcst immediately after dinner. She eudeavored to finish seme initial work on old embroideries, but the needle insist (id upon pausing and losing stitch after stitch. She went to bed and strove to sleep, but that sweet healer came not to her wooing. Nothing she did could overcome the realization of the shock she had received. It had left her dull and bewildered. The name echoed and re-echoed j through her mind: Paul Ellison. It i should have been an illumination; in- ; stead, she had been thrust into utter darkness. Neither Arthur nor his mother had sgver spoken of a brother, j and she had known them for nearly j ten years. Two men, who might be i v.win brothers, with the same namet* it was maddening. What could it nuun? The beautiful white-haired mother, the handsome charming son, who idolized i *??eh other; and this adventurer, this outcast, this patient, brave and kindlv RIFIWIkiiiTh r*i11 1! i11: < WTOI #iiWW ill ii $ ; i!'? II S|!ii' lllli Mil:: .bit Will i l l1 i! !i\m 111 ' M i , W1 P11''II P ill | T,i:w li il ifKiiTOTiill r.3 life mmIti" i i ffzWi fef:; ' ' Be Hie Maori Came into Contact With a Eelt. outcast, with his funny parrakoet, what was be to thorn and they to him? It must be, it must be". They were brothers. Nature, fnil of amazing, freaks as she was, had not perpetrated this one without calling upon a. single strain cf blood. She lay bach among her pillows, 'her eyes <e\eied at the few stars beyond her door, opened to admit any cooling breeze. Her head ached. It was like the computations of astronomers.; to a certain extent the human mind could grasp the distances^but could not eomnrpiu>n<t thom T* *" -*? ? AV VXAO IUUI ? iua II chance. Chance alone had not brought him to the crumbling ledge. There was a strain of fatalism in Elsn. She was positive that all these things ha-d been written long before and that she was to be used as the key. Paul 1011? son She tfv.vv from the past those salic-r.t recollections of Arthur and his mother: First, the day the two had calle * regarding ibo purchase of a house that her lather had just put. 011 the market ?a rambling old colonial affair, her own mother's birthplace. Sixteen; she had not quite been that, just free from her school days in Italy. With the grand air of youth she had betrayed the fact almost instantly, while waiting for her father to come into the living room. "Ituiy!" said Arthur's mother, whom Elsu mentally adopted at once. The stranger spoke a single phrase, which Elsa answered in excellent if formal Italian. This led from one question to another. Mrs. Ellison turned out to be a schoolmate of her mother's, and she, Klsa, had inherited their very room. What more was needed? The Ellisons bought the house and lived quietly within it. Society, and mere was a good deal of it in that small Keuiuckian city, society waited for them to approach and apply for admittance, but wailed in vain. Mrs. Ellison never went anywhere. Her son Arthur was a student and preferred his books. So eventually society introduced itself. Persons who ignored it must be interesting. When it became known that Mrs. Ellison had been the schoolmate of the beautiful and aristocratic wife of General Chetwood; when the local banker quietly spread the information that the Ellisons wtr ; comfortably supplied with stocks and bonde of a high order, society concluded that it could do very well without past history. That could come later. With her father dead, Elsa became as much at home in the Ellison house as in her own. But never, never anywhere in the house, was there indication of the existence of a brother, so like Arthur that under normal conditions it would have been difllcult to tell them apart. Even when she used to go up to the garret with Mrs. ElliBon, to aid her in rummaging some old trunk, there came to light none of those trifling kniekknac.ks which any mother would have secretly clung to, no matter to what depth her llesh and blood had fallen. Never had she seen among the usual amateur photographs < one presenting two boys. Once she had come across a photograph of a smooth-faced youth who was in the i act of squinting along the top of an englrAi r's tiijod. Arthur had laughingly taken it away from her, saying that it represented him when he had had ambitions to build bridges. To build bridges. The phrase awoke something in Elsa's mind. Bridges. She sat up in bt d, menially keen for the first time since dinner. "I have 1 built bridges in my time over which trains are passing at this moment I have fought torrents, and lloods, and hurricanes, and myself." He was Paul Ellison, son and brother, and they had blotted him out of ; their lives by destroying all physical signs of him. There was something inhuman in the deliberateness of it, ! something unforgivable. They had made no foolish attempt i to live under an assumed name. They ! had come from New York to the little valley in order to leave behind the scene of their disgrace and all those who had known them. Arthur was an inveterate traveler. Half the year found him in Europe, painting a little, writing a little loss, frequenting the lesser known villages in France and Italy. He did not care for horses, for hunting, for sports of any kind. And yet he was sturdy, clear-eyed, fresliskinned. lie walked always; he was forever tramping off to the pine-hooded hills, with his painting kit over his should*, rs and his camp stool under his arm. Later, Lira begun to under- j stand that he was a true scholar, not merely an educated man. lie was besides a linguist of amazing facility, a ! i pianist who invariably preferred as j his audience his own two ears. Arj thur would have been a. great dramaI list or a great poet. it. . . If he i had fought for prizes coveted bv man j kind, if lie had thrown aside his j dreams and gone into the turmoil, if I he had taken up a man's burden and carried it to success. Elsa, daughter ol a man who had fought, in the great : arena from his youth to his death, J Elsa was not meant for the wife ol a i dreamer. j Paul Ellison. What was his crime i in comparison to his expiation of it? j lie nud built bridges, fought torrents, , hurricanes, himself. No, he was not a scholar; he saw no romance in the j multifarious things he had of necessity put his hand to; these had been ! daily matter-of-fact occupations. A strange gladness seemed to loosen the j tenseness of lier aching nerves, j Then, out of the real world about i ! her, came with startling distinctness, i the shriek of a parrot. She would hrS'o recognized that piercing cry anywhere. It was Rajah. In the next room, and she had not known that . Warrington (she would always know ! him by that name) was stopping at ; the same hotel! She listened intently. Presently she heard muffled sounds; a i clatter of metal. A few minutes later | came softer tinkle, scurry of patterI ing feet, then silence. ; Elsa ran In <lir? rloov ! tionless by the jamb, waiting, ethereal' ly white in the moonshine. She should I have gone back to bed, but a thrill of unknown fear held her. She saw War1 rington, fully dressed, issue forth cau! tiously, glance about, then pass down the gallery, stepping with the lightj ness of a cat. I She returned hastily to her room, I'threw over her shoulder a kimono, and |went hack to the door, hesitating there j for a breath or two. She stepped out i upon the gallery, walked as far as Warrington's door, and paused there. The gallery floor was trellised with tnoonUph* and shadow. She saw some: thing lying in the center of a patch of j light, and she stooped. The light was ! too dim for her to read; so she reentered her own room and turned on the light. It was Warrington's letter of credit. She gave a low laugh, perhaps a bit hysterical. There was no doubt of it. Someone had entered his room. There had been a struggle in which he had been the stronger, and the thief had dropped his plunder. (As a matter of fact, the Chinaman, linding himself closed in upon, had thrown the letter of credit toward the railing, in hope that it would fall over tc the ground below, where, later, he could recover it.) Elsa pressed it to lie' heart as another woman might hav^ pressed a rose, and laughed ago n. Something of his; something to give her the excuse to see and to speak to him aeain. Tomorrow sh? w/miH X33* Came With Siartling Distinctness, the Shriek of a Farrot. know; and he won--' .el! l_er the truth. even as her heart knew it now. I or what other reason had he turned away from her that first day oyd of Rangoon, hurt and broken? Paul Kllison; and she had to'd him that she was going home to marry .his brother! CHAPTER XVII. The Battle. Next morning, when it became known among the bankers and foreign agencies that a letter of credit for ten thousand pounds had been lost or stolen, there was more than a ripple of excitehient. They searched records, but no loss as heavy as this came to light. lOven the managing director of the Bank of Burma came in for his, share of annoyance. He was obliged I to send out a dozen cables of notification of the loss, all of which had to be paid out of accrued dividends. Thus i Warrington had blocked up the ave-! nues. The marvelous rapidity with i vv li i rOi cmis.1i q l,. i, ,' lis. f. .1 i ntvit U\ivii nikiiu >1 lUtlJ UC PJ[!l C<IU broadcast these days is the first wonder in a new epoch of wonders. From Irkutsk to Auckland, from St. John's to Lcs Angeles, wherever a newspaper was published, the news Hew. ; Within twenty-four hours it would be difficult, to draw against that lettt r as it would be to transmute baser metals into gold At half pa-t ton Warrington, apparently none the worse for a sleeplos night, entered the private otlice of the' consul general who, gravely and with studied politeness, handed to him an 1 unopened cablegram. "1 rather preferred to let you open it, .Mr. Warrington," he said. Warrington noted the lack of cor- j diaiity, but with passive regret. The consul general recovered his pen and) pretended to become absorbed in the litter of papers on ins desk. Hut in j truth he could see nothing save the j young.man's face; calm, unmoved, ex- j pressing negligent interest in what j would be the most vital thing in his , existence, next to life. A tine sped- ] men of a man, incredibly wlioleso no despite his ten years' knocking about 111 uus ungodly part of tlie world It was a pity. Tlicy had evidently refused to compromise. "Pad news?" Warrington stood up with sudden and surprising animation in his face. 'Head it," ho said. "If Kli'son will make restitution in person, yes. ANDES." The consul general jumped to his feet and held out his hand. "1 am glad, very glad. Everything will turn out all right now. If you wish, I'll tell Miss Ghetwood the news." "1 was going to ask you to do that," responded Warrington. The mention of Elsa took the brightness out of his face. "Tell her that Parrot & Co. will always remember her kindness, and ask her to forgive a lonely chap for having caused her any embarrassment through her goodness to him. I have decided net to see Miss Ghetwood again." "You are a strong man, Mr. Warrington." "Warrington? My name is Ellison, Paul Warrington Ellison. After all, I'm so used to Warrington, that ( may ?.s well let well enough alone. Thor? is one more favor; do not tell Miss llhetwood that my name is Ellison." "1 should use my own name, if I >vere you. Why, man, you can return :o the States as if you had departed Dut yesterday. The world forgets luickly. People will do asking each )th< r what it was that you did. Then ! shall bid Miss Chetwood good-by tor .*ou ?' "Yes. 7 am going to jog it home. J . want to travel lirst class here, there, vhcrever fancy takes iue. It's so long j since I've known absolute onne and comfort. 1 wish to have time to readjust myself to the old ways. 1 was /. 1 <i iti.Mii yiuvini; cnap. 1 sail a i dawn lor Saigon. I may knock around in Siam for a few weeks. Alter that, I don't know where I'll go. Of course I shall keep the Andes advised of my whereabouts, from time to time." "Another man would be in a hurry.' It was on the tip of his tongue to tell Warrington what lie know of the Andes Construction company, hut something held back the words, a fear that Warrington might change his mind about seeing lOlsa. "Well, wherever you go and whatever you do, good luck go with you." "There are good men in this world, sir. and I shall always remember you as one of them." "By the way, that man Mallow; have you met him yet?" The quizzical expression in his eyes made Warrington laugh. "No." "1 was in hopes . . ." The consul general paused, but Warrington ignored the invitation to make known his intentions. He shunted further inquiry by saying: "A letter of credit of mino was stolen last night. I had a tussle in the room, and was rather getting the best of it. The thug slipped suddenly away. Probably hid the letter in his loin cloth." "That's unfortunate." "I have sent out a general stop-order. No one will be able to draw ugainst it. The sum will erontA picion anywhere." "Have you any idea who was back of the thief? Is there any way I can be of service to you?" "I really suspect Mallow and a gambler named Craig, but no court would hold them upon the evidence I have. It's my belief that it's a practical Joke which measures up to the man who perpetrated it. He must certainly realize that a letter so large will be eagerly watched for." "I shall gladly take charge of the matter here for you. I suppose that you will eventually meet Mallow?" "Eventually suggests a long time," grimly. "All ... Is there . . . Do you think there will be any need of a watch holder?" "I honestly believe you would like to see me have it out with him!" "I honestly would. But unfortunately the dignity of inv ofllce forbids. He has gone up and dov. n the settlements, bragging and domineering and lighting. 1 have been given to understand that he lias never met his match." "It's a long lane that has no turning. After all," Warrington added, letting go his reserve; "you're the only friend I have. Why shouldn't I tell you that immediately I am going out in senrcn 01 mm, ar.a tnat wnen i una him I am going to give him the worst walloping ho ever heard toll of." "I ought not to want to see you at It, but, hang it, I do!" "Human nature. It's a pleasurable sensation to back up right by might. Four years ago I vowed that some da" I'd meet him on equal terms. I mr % jf BI ^ ' Yv/' / k / 1 iMi li I m\\ I mlWhfr JL. - ( Him1 . f%! wWp~-k V|f* __''wim "I Found That in My Room Lac?t Night." not see you again. If live letter of j credit turns up. you know what to do i with it. I'm k on to get started. Good; by, and thank y*. u. I A handclasp, a: C he was gone. i "I wish," thought the consul gem i oral, "I could have told him about tlia | way the scoundrel ryoke of Mlsa." And Warrington as he sought th.e cafe veranda, wished he could have told the basic tru-h of his lighting mood; the look Mallow had givon Elsa that (lay in Penaiig Diligently he be i gaii the search. Mallow and Craig were still in their rooms, doubtless sleeping off the debauch of the pre* 1 ceding night. He saw that he must { wait. Luncheon ho had in town. At four o'clock his inquiries led him ! into the billiard annex. His throat i tightened a little as 1 e discovered tiio two men engaged in a game of Ann ri| can billiards He appro., 'hod the table I quietly. Their interest in the game was deep, possibly due lo the wager I laid upon the result; so they did not j observe him. He let Mallow finish i his run. Liquor had no effect upon the man's nerves, evidently, for his yes and stroke were excellent. A miscue brought an oath from his lips, and he banged his cue upon the floor. "Rotten hick," said Warrington sym: pathetically, with the devil's banter in I his voice. Mallow spun around, stared for a moment, then grinned evilly. "Hero's our ere-" at last, Craig." "Speaking of birds oi ill . eputc, the | crow pusses bis admiration to the kite and the vulture." Warrington spoke coolly. Mallow looked at Craig, who scowled back. Ho we3 beginning to grow weary at the sight of Warrington, bobbing up here, bobbing up there, always with a subtle menace. He chalked his cue, got the balls into a corner and finished his string. "That'll bo five pounds," he said. "And fifty quid for me," added Warrington. smiling, though his eyes were as blue and hard as arctic ice. "i 11 see you comfortably broiled tirst," replied Mallow, as he tossed 11 vo sovereigns to Craig. "Now, what el so is on your mind?" % Warrington took out the cigar baud and exhibited it. "1 found that in my room last night. You're one of the few, Mallow, who smoke them out here. He was a husky Chinese, but not husky enough. Makes you turn a bit yellow; eh, Craig, you white-livered cheat? You almost got my money belt, but almost is never quite. The letter of credit Is being reissued. It might have been robbery; it might have been just deviltry; just for the sport of breaking a man. Anyhow, you didn't succeed. Suppose we take a little irtlint nut tn u/luiro h nv 't-n KuMsl ,, V V. V vvr ?T itvi vj 11 1 C UUI1U" ing ihe now German Lloyd dock? There'll be no one working at this time of day. Plenty of shade." For a moment the click of the bulla on (he other tables was the only sound. Craig broke the tableau by reaching for his glass of whisky, which he emptied. He tried to assume a nonchalant air, but his hand shook as he replaced the glass on the tabouret. It rolled off to the floor and tinkled into pieces. "Nerves a bit rocky, eh?" Warrington laughed sardonically. "You're screeching In the wrong Jungle, Parrot, old tor," said Mallow, who, as he did not believe in ghosts, was physically nor morally afraid of anything. "Though, you have my word for it that I'd like to see you lose every cent of your oil fluke." "Don't doubt it." Continued next week)