Evening Star Newspaper, March 27, 1921, Page 58

4 HIS Story of T bl Written by One of the Masters of Englxsh Fiction, Gives a View of Swift | Action in Eastern Seas. "Laughmg Anne,” | | | | PERSONS IN THE TALE THE NARRATOR. DAVIDSON, a China coast sea captain, a really good man, who regularly called in h trading steamer at the | remote “settlement” of one BAMTZ, a vagabond, worthless, so-called trader. Davidson was the only link with the outside world of the scape-grace Bamtz and his “wife,” LAUGHING ANNE, who, with her little boy, manages to exist with Bamtz. ‘Davidson felt only pity for this wreck of a woman. THE THREE—Fec- tor, Niclaus and the Frenchman without | hands. It is Niclaus | who overhears David- ‘ son talking of the silver | dollars he will carry | next trip. LL this happened About two years before the day when Davidson, sitting in this | very room, talked to my € friend. “I don't suppose Davidson was talking very loudly; but very likely he had to raise his voice across the table to my friend. And here acci- dent, mere accident, put in its work by providing a pair of fine-ears close behind Davidson's chair. It was ten to one against the owner, of the same having enough change in his pock- ets to get his tiffin here.. But he had. Most likely had rooked somebody of a few dollars at cards overnight. He was a bright creature of the name of Fector, a square, short, jumpy fellow with a red face and muddy eyes. He aescribed himself as a journalist, as certain kind of women give them- lves out as actresses in the dock of olice court. ‘He had been kicked, horsewhipped, imprisoned and hounded with igno- miny out of pretty well every place between Ceylon and Shanghai for a professional blackmailer. suppose, in that trade; you've got to have active wits atd sharp ears. 1 ot likely that he overheard every word Davidson said about his dollar- collecting trip, but hie heard enough to set his wits at work. “He let Davidson.go out, and then hastened away down to the native slums to & sort of lodging house kept in partnership by the usual sort of Portuguese and = very disreputable Chinaman. “There, the evening before, Fector had met a precious couple. a partner- ship even more queer than the Portu- guese and the Chinaman. One of the two was Niclaus—you know. Why! the fellow with a Tartar mustache and a yellow complexion like a Mon- golian, only that his eyes Were set straight and his face was nbt so flat. One couldn’t tell what breed he was. | A nondescript beggar. From a cer-i tain angle you would think a very bilious white man. And I daresay he was. He owned a Malay prau and .called himself the nakhoda, as one “would say: The captain. Aha! Now you remember. He couldn't. appar- ently, speak any other European lan- than English, but he flew the § humani: | time 1 k ito ask that what rations there w evening that Ds of delic mad s00d-bye to her sleep on board able and, strange his own ‘account nis wife. more offe idson from a sense mind to s: once and go felt very mi more on unt of much nd | He r- v enough, than on She seemed to him ed having col- s of old dol- ft_in the rand a pad n under h later, 1 many ca were stowed with an iron b < uring the hat bin-table). yes. with a b r lot an ¥ expected to colleet, he homeward boun of the creek, a elf off the entranc wi and THE SUNDAY STAR, WASHINGTON, D. C, MARCH 27, 1921— PmT 4 BECAUSE OF THE DOLLARS them on board? Then look out for Yourself." They stood gazing down at the boy in The cot, aware that they might be observed from the other room. “‘We must get him to perspire as s00n as possible,’ said Davidson in his ordina ‘You'll have to give him hot drink of some kind. I will £0 on hoard and bring you a spirit- kettle mongs other things." And he added under his breath. Do they actually mean murder? She made no turned to I not_hea unchang |llr hrr b she had re ntemplation S son thought she had him even. when with an 1 expression she spoke un- eath enchman would, in a min- s shirk it—unle a devil. Oh, Dav. —quick said Da Iready kid hadn't been in this ate | would have run off with him— you—into the woods—anywhere. Davy! will he dic? she cried aloud denly “Davy doorway. thout s your ship aw “Too late, the mud ‘I the dson. ‘She's on to Oh. » three men in the made way for him ctu daring to face his met hey on Bamtz lived ouris and even, in s the that tated whether | this time. 1 had no regard for Bamptz, w |H» was a degraded but not a really unhappy | man. His pity for Laughing Anne Was no more than h > deserved. But his goodnes was of rticu- larly d t rt He re: d how these people were dependent on 1 and how they would feel ir de pendence (if he failed to surn up) through a long month of Waiting. Prompted by his Davidson, in the ing dusk. turned the Sis toward the hardl discernible and navigated her safely through a maze of shallow patehes. But by the £ot to the mout he creek | the night had come | “Davidson, in the day | i & mlz»} S unexpected at this the night. but convenient a guide. By a turn of the screw and | - a touch of the helm he sh 1 the | sie alongside Bamt rable structure of a dozen piles and a few planks _of which the ex- vagabond was very proud. A couple of kalashes jumped down on it, took a turn with the ropes thrown to them round the posts. and the Sissie came to rest without a single loud word or the slightest noise. And just in time, too, for the tide turned cven before.she was properly moored. “Davidson had something to and then, coming on deck for a look round, noticed that the light was still burning in the house. “This was very unusual, but since they were awake so late Davidson thought that he would go up to say that he was in a hurry to be off and re in store should be sent on board with the first sign of dawn. “He stepped carefully over the shaky planks, not being anxious to get a sprained ankle, and picked his way across the waste ground to the foot of the house ladder. The house was but a glorified hut on piles, un fenced and lonely. “Like make a stout man, Davidson is very lightfooted. He climbed the seven steps or so, stepped across the bamboo platform” quietly, but what he saw through the doorway stopped him short. ‘Four men were sitting by the light of a solitary candle. There was a bot- tle, a jug and glasses on the table, but they were not engaged in drinking. Two packs of gards were lying there, too, but they were not preparing to play. They were talking together in whispers. and remained quite unaware of him. He himself was too astonished to make a sound for some time. “The situation ended with a scream proceeding from the dark, interior part of the room. ‘O Davy! you've given me a turn. “Davidson made out beyond the table Anne’s very pale face. She laughed a little hysterically, out of the deep shadows between the gloomy mat walls. ‘Ha! ha! ha! “The four heads sprang apart at the first sound, and four pairs of eves b came fixed stonily on Davidson. The woman came forward, having little more on her than a loose chintz wrap- per and straw slippers on her bare feet. Her head was tied up Malay fashion in a red handkerchief, with a mass of loose hair hanging under it behind. eat, * ¥ * % MSHE came forward, past the table into the light, with her usual groping gesture of extended arms, as though her soul. poor thing, had gone blind long ago, her white cheeks hol- low. her eyes darkly wild. distracted, as Davidson thought. She came on swiftly, grabbed him by the arm, Kuage Dutch flag on his prau. *“The other was the Frenchman The verv same we used to know in 79 in Sydnev. keeping a little tobacco shop at the Tower end of George street. You re- members the huge carcass hunched up ‘behind the counter. the big white face and the long black hair brushed back off & high forehead like a bard" He was always trying to roll cigarettes on his knee with his stumps, telling endless yarns of Polynesia and whin- ing sand cursing in turn about ‘mon malhear’ His hands had been blown: & dynamite cartridge while T believe, had made him more wicke: s before, which is eaying a good . % x =T ‘HE coupls were alone together loafing in the common room of ! that infamous hotel when Fector| turned up. After some beating about | the bush, for he was doubtful how far | he could trust these two, he repeated what he had overheard in the tiffin- rooms. H “His tale did mot have much suc-| cess till he came to mention the creek snd Bamts's name. Niclaus, sailing about like a native in a prau, wa m! his own words. ‘familiar with the lo- eality’ The huge Frenchman, walk- ing up and down the room with his stumps In the pockets of his jacket. stopped short in surprise. ‘Comment? Bamtz! Bamtz!" And he applied such a contemptu- ously indecent epithet to Bamtz that when, later, he alluded to him as ‘une chiffe’ (a mere rac) it sounded quite complimenta “We can do with him what we like' he asserted. “He saw all that lot meited into bars and momewhere on the China coast of | the escape after the coup he never doubted. There was Niclaus' prau to manage that in “In his enthusiasm he pulled his rtumps out of his pockets and waved them about. Then, catching sight of | them, as it were, he held them in front of his eyes. cursing and blas- pheming and bewailing his misfortune and his helplessness, till Niclaus quieted him down. “But it was his mind that planned out the affair and it was his spirit which carried the two others on. “That very evening thev departed on a v t to Bamtz in Niclaus' prau, which had been lying, emptied of her cargo of cocoanuts, for a day or two under the canal bridge. They must bave crossed the bows of the an- chored Sissie, and no doubt looked at her with interest as the scene of their future exploit, the great haul, le erand coup' on’s wife. to his zreat sur- with him for several days before he 16ft. On the very last evening before Davidson went a v she asked him in a suspicious man- rer ““Why is it that vou are so anx- fous to go this time” of dollars ! disposed of ‘I's heaven Itself| My Tony Come a gged him in. t sends you tonight. bad—come and see him. 1son submitted. of the men to move w made a8 if to get up but dropped back | in his chair again. Davidson in pass- ing heard him mutter confusedly something that sounded like ‘poor lit- tle beggar.’ “The child, lving very flushed in a miserable cot knocked up out of gin s, stared at Davidson with wide, drowsy ey It was a bad bout_of fever clearly. But while Davidfon ' was promising to go on board and fetch some medicines, and generally trying to_say reassuring things, could not help being struck by th traordinary manner of the woman standing by his side. Guzing with! despairing expression down at the cot, she would suddeniy throw a quick, startled glance at Davidson and then towsrd the other room Yes. my poor girl’ he whispered, interpreting her disfraction in his own way, thouzh he had noth cise in his mind. ‘I'm bodes no good to you. How is it they here The I forearm and thed “No good to Oh, n But what about you! seized out forcibl “‘I am not anxious’ protested the £ood Davidson. ‘I simply can't help myself. There's no one else to go in my place’ “‘Oh! There's no one,’ she said, turn. ing away slowly. “Sbe was so diftant with him that| cy are after the dollars you have on board.” “Davidson let out an astonished How do they know there are any dol- lars? But Bamtz was the only one who looked down with an air of guilt The big Frenchman had remained lolling in his chair; he kept his stumps in his pockets and addressed Davidson. sn chiid | glan it unfortunate about that The distress of t woman there upsets me. but 1 am of no use in the world. I couldn’t smooth the ick pillow of my dearest friend. I have no hane Would you mind sticking one of those cigarettes there into the mouth of a poor, harmless cripple? My nerves want soothing-— with his nat- his outward more pro- complied, kind smile. placidity becomes only nounced, if possible, the more reason there is for excitement; and as Da- vidson's eyes, when his wits are hard work. et very still and es if v. the huge Frenchman might een justified in concluding that man there was a mere sheep—a p ready for slaughter. With a ‘merci bien” he uplifted his huge car- cass to reach the light of the candle with his cigarette, and Davidson left the house “Going down to the ship and re turning, he had time to consider his position. At first he was inclined to ieve that these men (Niclaus—the hav sight before., besidea Bamtz) were not of the stamp to proceed to extremities. * This was partly the reason why he never attempted to take any measuges on board. His pa- cific Kalashes were not to be thought of as against white men His wretched engineer would have had a fit from fright at the mere idea of any sort of combat. Davidson knew that he would have to depend on himself in this affair if it ever came off. “All the four were sitting again round the table. Bamtz not having the pluck to open his mouth, it was Niclaus who. as a collective voice, called out to him thickly to come out soon and join in'a drink. “I think T'll have to stay some little time in there, to help her look after the boy, Davidson answered without stopping. “This was a good thing to say to allay a possible suspicion. And, as it was, Davidson felt he must not stay very long. “He sat down on an old empty nail keg near the improvised cot and looked at the child; while Laughing Anne, moving to and fro, preparing the hot drink, giving it to the boy in spoonfuls, or stopping to gaze motionless at the flushed face, whispered disjointed bits of information. She had succeeded in making friends with that French devil. Davy would understand that she knew how to make herself pleasant to a man. “And_Davidson nodded without look- ing at her. UTHE big beast had got to be quite confidential with her. She held his cards for him when they were hav- ing a game. Bamtz! Oh! Bamtz in his funk was only too glad to see the Frenchman humored. And the French- man had come to believo that she was a woman who didn't care what she did. That's how it came about they got to talk before her openly. For a long time she could not make out what game they ‘were up to. The new arrivals, not ex- pecting to find a woman with Bamts, had been very startled and annoyed at first, she explained. he busied herself in attending to the boy: and nobody looking into that room would have seen anything sus- picious in those two people exchanging murmurs by the sick bedside. ‘But now they think I am a better man than Bamtz ever was,’ she said with a faint laugh. “The child moaned. * %k x She went down “OH, DAVY, WILL HE DIE” SHE CRIED ALOUD, SUDDENLY. on her knees, and, bending low, templated him mournfully. her head, she ask he con- ull d'nwn raising | avidson whether hought the child would get better. Da n was sure of it. She murmured sadly, ‘Poor kid. for such as he, ot a dog's chance. But 1 couldn’t let him go, Davy! I wouldn’t! “Davidson felt a profound pity for the child. She laid her hand on nal knee and whispeted an carnest warning against the Frenchman. Davy must never let him come to close quarters, Naturally Davidson wanted to know the reason, for A man without hands did not strike him as very formidable under any circumstances, “‘Mind you don’t let him—that's all," she insisted anxiously, hesitated, and then confessed that the Frenchman had g0t her away from the others that after- noon and had ordered her to tie a seven- pound iron weight (out of the met of weights Bamtz used in business) to his ht stump. She had to do it for him. had been afraid of his suvage tem- Bamtz was such a craven, and © of the other men would have what happened to her. The 1, however, with many awful ad warned her not to let the others know what she had done for him, Afterward he had been trying to cajole her. He had promised her that if she stood by him faithfully in this business he would take her with him to Hai- phong or some other place. A poor ripple needed somebody to take care of “She clapped her hands lightly. in Ldistress, ‘So its truel You have him—always. “Davidson asked ber-again if they There's nothing in life | THE FOUR HEADS SPRAN really meant mischief. Tt was, he told me, the hardest thing to believe he had run up against, as vet, in his life. Anne nodded. The French- man's heart was set on this robbery. Davy might expect them, about mid- night, creeping on board his ship, to steal, anyhow—to murder, perhaps. Her voice sounded weary, and her yes remained fastened on her child. cept it somehow these men was too gr *“‘Look here, Da she said, go outside with them when start, and it will be hard luck don't find something to laugh They are used to that from me. Laugh or cry—what's the odds. You will_be able to hear me on board on this quiet night. Dark it is, too. Oh! it's dark, Davy'—it's dark ‘Don’t you run any risks' said Davidson. Presently he called her at- tention to the boy, who, less flushed now, had dropped into a sound sleep. ‘Look. He'll be all right” “She made as if to snatch the child up to her breast, but restrained her- self. Davidson prepared to go. She whispered_hurriedl “Mind, Davy! I've told them that vou generally sleep aft in the ham- mock under the awning over the oabin. The been asking me bout your ways and about your ship, too. 1 told them all 1 I had to keep in with them. Bamtz would have told them hadn't—you understand? “He made a friendly sign and went out. The men about the table (ex cept Bamtz) looked at Hhi T time it .was Fector who spoke ‘Won't you join us in a quiet game, captain? Davidson said that now the child was better he thought he on board and turn in. “‘We shall be sitting late over the cards Fector eaid in his harsh, low voice. it T they it at. have “‘Don’t make more nolse than you, hel A On: Pwe are a quiet lot. And it the invalid shouldn't be 8o well. she will be sure to send one of us down to call you, 50 that you may play the doctor again. So don't shoot at sight.” » ism't a shooting man,’ iclaus, 1 never shoot before making sure there' a reason for it—at any rate, said Dayidson. ‘Bamts let out a sickly snigger. The Frenchman alone got up to make a bow to Davidson's careless nod. His stumps were stuck immovably in his pockets. Davidson understood now the reason. “He went down to the ship. He never paused to look i1 therc was anybody about the decks. As a mat- ter of fact, most of his crew were on shore, and the rest slept, stowed away in dark corners. “He had his plan; and he went to work methodically. “He fetched a lot of clothing from below and disposed it in hix ham- mock in such & way as to distend it to the whape of a human body: then he threw over all th ton sheet he used to draw over himself whén sleeping on deck. Having done thix, he loaded his two revolvers and clambered into one of the boats the Sissle carried right aft, swung out on their davits. Then he waited. B ¢« QUDDENLY in the soundless hot pheasant screamed in the woods across the stream. Davidson started violently, all his senses on the alert at_once. The candle the house. lagain, but Davidson ilonger. An uneasy l'evil oppressed him. ‘Surely 1 arh not afraid,’ gued with himself: “The silence was |his ears, and his ngrvous inw | tmpatience grew intolerable. He commanded himself to keep still. { But, all the same. he was just going to jump out of the boat when a faint ripple on the immensity of silence, a mere tremor in the air, the ghost of a silvery laugh, reached his ears. fllusion! He kept very stil. He had mno difficulty now in emulating the still- ness of the mouse—a grimly deter- mined mouse. But he could not shake off that premonition of evil unrelated to the mere danger of the situation. Nothing happened. It had been an illusion! “He had left the hanging lamp in | the cabin burning as usu: 1t was part of his plan that everything should be as usual. Suddenly in the dim glow of the skylight panes a bulky shadow came up the ladder without a sound, made two steps toward the hammock (it hung right over the skylight), and stood mo- tionless. The Frenchman! “The minutes began to slip away. Dnvldwn guessed that the French 's part (the poor cripple) was to watch his (Davidson’s) slumbers while the others were no doubt in the cabin busy forcing off the laz- arette hatch. “What was the course they meant struck breathless, was still Everything was quiet felt drowsy no premonition of he ar- like a seal on rd would Eo| night an argus burning in| | parent, | more than A Story by Joseph Conrad D FOUR PAIRS OF EY TH to pursue once they got hold of the silver (there were ten cases, and each could be carried easily by two men) nobody can tell now. But so far, Davidson was right. They were in the cabin. He expected to hear the sounds of breaking-in every mo- ment. But the fact w that one of them (perhaps Fector. who had stolen papers out of desks in his time) knew how Lo pick a lack, and ap- 1 provided with the tools. Thus while Davidson expected every moment to hear them begin down there, they had the bar off and two ¢ Ny up in Zarette. t glow of the vlight the chman moved no a stz have shot him with the greatest ease —but he was not homicidally in- clined. Moreover, he wanted to make sure before opening fire that the others had gone to work. Not hear- ng the sounds he expected to hear, he felt uncertain whether they all were on board yet “While he listened, the Frenchman, whose immobility might have but cloaked an. internal struggle, moved forward a pace, then another. DAvid- son, entranced. watched him advance one lez, withdraw h right stump, the armed one, out of his pocket, and, swinging his body 1o put greater force into the blow, bring the seven- qound weight down on the hammock vhere the head of the sleeper ought ln have been, david=on admitted to me that hair stirred at the roots ‘then for Anne. his unsuspecting head would have been ther The Frenc man's surprise must have been s ply overwhelming. He away from the lightly swinging ham- mock, and before Davidson could make a movement he had vanished, bounding down the ladder to warn and alarm the other fellows “Davidson sprang instantly out. of the boat, threw up the skylight flap, and had a glimpse of the men down there crouching round the hatch. They looked up scared, and at that moment the Frenchman outside the door bellowed out ‘Trahison—trahi- son!' They bolted out of the cabin, falling over each other and swearing awfully. The shot Davidson let off down- the skylight had hit no one. but he ran to the edge of the cabin- top and at once opened fire at the dark shapes rushing about the deck. These shots were returned, and a rap- id fusillade burst out, reports and flashes, Davidson dodging behind a ventilator and pulling thetrigger till his revolver clicked, and then throw- ing it down to take the other in his right hand. “He had been hearing in the din the Frenchman's infuriated vells “Tue le!l—tuez-le!’ (Shoot him—shoot him) above the flerce cursing of the oth- ers. But though they fired at him they were only thinking of clearing out In the flashes of the last shots avidson them serambli oV the rail. That he had hit more th on w certain Tw 1 eried out in pain. none of them was disabled. dson leaned against the bul- wark reloading his revolver without haste. He prehension of their coming back. On the other hand, he had no intention of pursuing them on shore in the dark. What they were doing he had no ide Looking to their hurts probably. very far from the bank the inv Frenchman his But m- : more than different But ap- was blaspheming gnd cursing his associates, his luck and all the world. He ceased; then with sudden, vengeful yell, ‘It's that n!—it’s that woman that has #o0ld us, was heard running off in the night. “Davidson sudden ceived caught his breath in a pang of remorse. He™ per- with dismay that the strata- gem of his defense had given Anne aw He did not hesitate a moment. It was for him to save her now: He leaped ashore. But even as he land- ed on the wharf he heard a shrill shriek which pierced his very soul. “The light was still burning in the house. Davidson, revolver in hand, was making for it when another shriek, away to his left, made him change his direction. * ok ko «JJ® changed his direction—but very soon he stopped. It was then that he hesitated in cruel per- plexity. He guessed whta had hap- pened. The woman had managed to escape from the house in some way, and now was being chased in the open Dby the infuriated Frenchman. He trusted she would try to run on board for protection. 11 was still around Davidson. Whether she had run on board or not, this silence meant that the French- man had lost her in the dark. “Davidson, relieved, but still very anxious, turned toward the riverside. He had not made two steps in that direction when another shriek burst ® S BECAME FIXED STONILY ON DAVID!O\. WOMAN CAME FORWARD— Davidson could | staggered | d not the slightest ap-; s > out behind him, again clnse to the house. “He thinks that the Frenchman had lost sight of the poor woman right enough. Then came that period of silence. But the horrible ruffian had not given up his murderous pur- pose. He reasoned that she would try to steal back to her child, and went to lie in wait for her near the house. “It must have been something like that. As she entered the light falling about the house ladder, he had rushed at her too soon, impatient for vengeance. She had let out that second scream of mortal fear when she caught sight of him. and turned to 'run for life again. “This time she was making for the river, but not in a straight line. Her shrieks circled about Davidson. He turned on his heels, following the horrible trail of sound in the dark- ness. He wanted to shout *This way, Anne! I am here! but he couldn't. At the horror of this chase, more ghastly in his imagination than if he could have seen it, the perspiration broke out on'his forehead, while his throat was as dry as tinder. A last Supreme Scréam was cut short sud- denly. “The silence which more dreadful. Davidson felt sick. He tore his feet from the spot and walked straight before him, gripping the revolver and peering into the obscurity fearfully. Suddenly a bulky shape sprang from the ground within a few yards of him and bounded away. Instinctively he fired at It, started to run in pursuit and stum- bled against something soft, which threw him down headlong. “Even as he pitched forward on his head he knew it could be nothing else but Laughing Anne’s body. He picked himself up and, remaining on his knees, tried to lift her in his arm He felt her so limp that he gave it up. She was lying on her face, her long hair scattered on the ground. Some of it was wet. Davidson, feel- ing about her head, came to a place where the crushed bone gave way under his fingers. But even before that discovery he knew that she was dead. The pursuing Frenchman har flung her down with a kick from behind, and, squatting on her back, i was battering in her skull with the weight she herself had fastened to his ‘stump, when the totally unex- pected Davidson loomed up in the night and scared him away. “Davidgon, kneeling by the side of that woman done 8o miserably to death, was overcome by remorse. She had died for him. His manhood was as if stunned. For the first time he felt afraid. He might have been pounced upon in the dark at any moment by the murderer of Laugh- ing Anne.” He confesses to the im- pulse of creeping away from that pitiful corpse on his hands and knees to the refuge of the ship. He even says that he actually began to do One can hardly picture to oneself Davidson crawling away on all fours from the murdered woman—Davidson unmanned and crushed by the idea that she had died for him in a sense. But he could not have gone very far. What stopped him was the thought of the bhoy, Laughing Anne's child, that (Davidson remembered her very words) would not have a dog's chance. “It's no use telling you in detail how Davidson got on board with the burden Anne's miserable cruel fate had thrust into his arms; how next morning his scared crew., after ob- serving from a distance the state of affairs on board. rejoined with alacrity: how Davidson went ashore and, aided by his engineer (still half dead with fright), rolled up Laughing Anne’s body in a cotton sheet and brought it on, board for burial at sea later. While busy with this pious task, Davidson, giancing about, per- ceived a huge heap of white ciothes huddled up against the corner-post of the house. That it what the French- man lying there he could not doubt. Taking it in connection with the dis- mal groan he had heard in the night, Davidson is pretty sure that his ran- dom shot gave a mortal hurt to the [ murderer of poor Anne. “As to the others, Davidson never set eyves on a single one of them. He lost mo time in getting out of the creek directly the Sissle floated. “The body of Laughing Anne hav- ing been ‘committed to the deep’ some twenty miles S.S.W. from Cape Sela- tan, the task before Davidson was to commit Laughing Anne’s child to the care of his wife. And there poor, good Davidson made a fatal move. He didn’t want to tell her the whole awful story, 'since It involved the knowledge of the danger from which he, Davidson, had eacaped. And this, too, after he had been laughing at her unreasonable fears only a short time before. ‘I thought that if I told her everything Davidson explained to me, ‘she would never have a moment's peace while I was away on my trip: “He simply stated that the boy was an orphan, the child of some people to whom he, Davidson, was under the greatest obligation, and. that he felt morally bound to look after him. Some day he would tell her more, he said, and meantime he trusted in the goodness amd wrrmth of her heart, sued was even |. in her woman's natural compassion. “He did not know that her heart ‘was about the size of a parched pea, and had the proportional amount of warmth; and that her faculty of com- passion ‘was mainly directed to her- 1f. He was only startled and dii ppointed at the air of cold surprise nd the suspicious look with which she received his imperfect tale. But she did not say much. She never had much to say. She was a fool of the silent, hopeless Kind. “What _story%) Davidson's thought fit to Yet afloat in town is neither here nor Davidson himself took some of his! friends into his confidence, 'besides Eiving the full story officially to the harbor master. * ¥ x *x c«he harbor master was consider- ably astonished. He didn't thin however, that a formal complaint should be made to the Dutch govern- ment. They would probably do noth- ing in the end, after a lot of trouble and correspondence. The robber had not come off, after all. Thos vagabonds could be trusted to go to the devil in their own way. No amount of fuss would bring the poor woman crew Malay there E to life again, the actual murderer had | been done justice to by a chance shot from Davidson. ter drop “This was good common sense. he was impressed. Sounds a terrible affair, Davidson. ‘Ave. terrible enough.’ agreed the remorseful Davidson. But the most terrible thing for him, though he didn’t know it then, was that his wife's silly brain was slowly coming to the conclusion that Tony was Davidson's child, and that he had in- vented that lame story to introduce him into her pure home in defiance of*decency, of virture—of her most sacred feelings. “Then. one d Monkey - taced Ritchie called on that sweet, shy Mre. Davidson. She had come out under his_care, a privileged person—her oldest friend in the tropics. He posed for a great admirer of hers. He was alw great chatterer. He had got hold o the story rather vaguely. and he started chattering on that subject. thinking she knew” all about it. And in due course he let out something about Laughing Anne. ‘Laughing Anne,’ savs Mrs. David- son. with a start. ‘What's that? “Ritchie plunged into circumlocution at once, but she very soon stopped him. *Is ‘that creature dead? she asks. T believe so. stammered Ritchie. “Your husband says so.’ ‘But vou don’t know for certain? “No! How could I, Mrs..Davidson? “That's all T wanted to know,’ says she. and goes out of the room. “When Davidson came home she was ready to go for him. not with common voluble indignation. but as if | trickling a stream of cold. clear water down his back. She talked of his base intrigue with a vile woman. of being made a fool of, of the insult to | her dignity. “Davidson begged her to listen to| him and told her all the story, think- ' Ring Lardner But Capt. | her” witely Better let the mat-| and he considered himself | iDavi ing that it would move & "lfl of stone. He tried to make her under- stand his remorse. She heard him to the end. said ‘Indeed! and turned her back on him. “"Don’t you believe me? he asked, -mmllea dn't say ves or no. Al sh. ‘Send that brat aw ‘I can’t throw him out into the street,” cried Davidson. ‘You -don't mean it I don’t care. There are charitable institutions for such children. T sup- pose.* “That T will never do,’ said David- t's enough for me* Davideon's home after this was like a silent. frozen hell for him. A stupid woman with a Sense of griey- nee is worse than an unchained dey He sent the boy tn the Whits Fathers in Ma This was no very expensive sort of education, she could not for him ’(\r casting the offensi terly She worked wrongs jured puri day LM DA fnon was B ing with her to be re » and n {to make an impossible existence f {them both. she turned on him in chill passion and told him that } ery sight was odious to her Davidson. with his scrupulous of feeling. was mot assert his rights over a wom could not bear the sig bowed his head: and shortly ward arranged for her to xo ba her parents. That was exactly she wanted in her ou And then she had always d tropics and had detested secretly the people she had to liv ng as Da vidson's w She Tier sensitive, mean little soul away Fremantie or somewhere in that rection. And of course the littlc gi-l went away with her, ton. What con poor Davidson have done with a 1itiis girl on his hands_even if she had con sented to leave her with him—wh is unthinkable This is the story that has spoi Davidson's smile for him—which per haps it wouldn't have done so th oughly had he been less of a & fellow Holils ceased. Rut before we rou) from the table I asked him if he kn. what had become of Laughing Anne b Oh' that's the finiehing touch was a bright, taking little chap. ou know. and the fathers took v. special vains in his bringing un. 1o vidson expected in his heart to have some comfort out of him. In his plas vay he's a man who needs affection Well. Tony has grown into a fi youth—but there vou are! He wants to be a vriest: his one dream is to be A missionary. The fathers a n that it is a serious vocation They tell him he has a special dispo- {sition for mission work. too. o Laughing Anne's boy will lead a \saintly life in China somewhere; he may even become a martyr; but poor tonk a He | Davidson is left out in the cold. will have to go downhill ulthout single human affection near him be- cause of these old dollars.” (Copyright, 1921, by Doubleday, Page & Co.) Tells How to Attain the Perfect Figure O the editor: Pretty near everyl place you go now days, where they’s a mixed gathering, the people that ain’t talking about Mrs. Hardin's coat is disgusting their diet and how to get fat or thin, a specially the last-named and when- ever you walk in anywheres where the hostess don’t expect no Co. you generally always find a book on the liveing rm. table on how to get skinny and etc. s0 it seems like this is the most important problem of the day outside the Yap situation and the women folks is all spending hun- dreds of dollars on books that will learn them how to not look so much like @ group. Well the trouble with spending money on these kind of books is that the party that buys them ain't sure that the party that wrote them is qualified to know what they are talking about. For inst. the author of “Eat and Grow Skinny” or “Diet and Longevity’ may have a waste line that is 4 laps to the mile for all as we know, and if they can't control their own border how can they learn others to do the same? Obesity begins at home like every- thing else and what 1 a mgetting at is that the only people that can lear: you how to reduce or build up is people ¢hat has did it themselfs and 22777777 “THE AUTHOR OF ‘EAT AND GROW SKINNY’ MAY HAVE A WASTE LINE THAT IS FOUR LAPS TO THE MILE” is normal and can tell you what they done to get that way. Like for inst. you wouldn't go to Babe Ruth for beauty hints no more than you would ask a’ movie actress which cheek to park your tobacco in vs a left hander. * % % % \X7ell friends, I don't like to brag, but it looks like they wasn't no- body better fitted to give advice on the fat and lean question than the un- dersigned and if I can be of any assistants to my friends that is wor- red about their weigts why I will overlook my prejudice in regards to bareing secrets of my private life and sacrifice myself on the alter of Pro bono publice. Lest they be any doubts as to my qualifications along these lines, why here is the figures by which a per- son finds out how much they should ought to weigh according to their higth. Multiply the number of inches You are over 5 ft. tall by 51 and then add that to 110. Well friends I am 13% inches over 5 ft. tall and multi- ply 13% by 5% and you get 743 and when you add that onto 110 it makes 184% avordupois which is exactly where I tip the old beam. In other wds' my weigth is ideal like pretty near everything else. “How does the boy do it you ask Well, “friends. I am going to lay all my cards on the table and tell you the system I generally always fol- low in regards to diet and exercise and if my fat and skinny friends will also try and follow out a similar pro. gram I don't see mo reasorf why they shouldn’t also g&t to be perfect. First we will take eating. I gen- erally always eat in a room where they's a riot. I try and get to meals on time as I prefer my own napkin. I always set in a straight back chair and face east. I never talk at meals s when I talk I like to be heard. I never accept no invitations to meals at nobody els house unlest I all ready been there and know that mine host is a good provider. Now, in regard to ercise. never et nobody feed me and I u-l ways dress and undress myself. I al- ways shave standing up. Shaveing 3 or 4 times per wk. is enough to keep the jowls suppl, but if I find if am a couple oz. overweight I shave ever day and reduce the flesh on the neck. In brushing the hair I can also generally always manage to lose a little. \ exit. In the morning I always snatch the paper to quicken the eye. I hold it myself and turn the pages myself. When I see that my thumbs is get- ting too fat, I roll my own cigarettes and I always smoke & plenty of them 28 Rhey's no exercise that brings more’ muscles into play than cough- ing and tossing in bed. 1 stay on the water wagon as I find that this takes a whole lot of weight } off the hips. As a rule my weight don't decline very much but when I feel like I am too light I lay off the typewriter a few days and add on a couple finger nails. I alwa; wash my hands before re- tiring and my face when necessary, though one of my friends says it is silly to wash your face when you to bed as they won't nobody be Jik to see :f its dirty or clean and its just as foolish to wash it when you get up because you aip't been nc wheres to get it soiled: But I do it 2 or 3 times per wk. anyway to reduce the soap. Bathing as exercise depends on what kind of a tub you got.’ The madam picked mine out and bought it by the front ft. and 1 guess we must of been pretty mnear broke at the time. Any way when 1 have took a bath 1 generally always. feel like challenging Hou I go to bed pretty near every night at 9 or 10 o'clock but once in a while somebody comes in to play cards and I take setting up exercises. I gener- ally manage to lose a little this way * %k % X PBut If & person really wants to limit their diet 1 don’t know of no bet- ter scheme than to buy a car or take up golf. In a short wile you won't be ordering nowheres near as mueh grocerys or if you do the - won't send them. But as for golf it~ self makeing a person fat or thin it depends on who you are playing with. Most of the birds I play with is so rapped up in their own game that I can generally take off a couple of strokes. Personally it seems kind of funny to me why they should be so many people worring these days about get- ting stout when they can't nobody only & white wings or a bell hop af- ford to eat anything but roots and herbs. They must be lomet.blng be. sides food that makes people bulge out. Maybe they’s some truth in the old saying, “Laugh and grow fat” and the combination of income tax and telephone service is too much’ for us. RING W. LARDNER. Great Neck, March 25. A WHITE HOUSE BEAUTY. Historians are inclined to give toa Miss Harriet Lane, niece of President Buchanan, the palm for being ths prettiest woman that ever ruled ths White House social life. She was a blonde, with hair of a rare gold, deep-blue eyes, and her mouth was - said to be one of the most beautifar ever owned by a Washington belle. Her beauty was so noticeable that at the dawn of womanhood, when sh accompanied her uncle, then Amr} ica’s representative in Enmgland, to Oxford, where he was to recetve the - degree’ of doctor of civil laws, the student body greeted her appear- ance with terrific cheers, inspired entirely by the smile of her Iovely: lips as sha turned her flowerlike fate toward them. Not only was she beautiful in lime and curve, but, in addition, she wa: a picture of perfect health, &n’at) lete of no mean order, as many ‘A young_ gallant discovered after ehe had challenged him to a race amd’ beaten him so badly that spectators of the race unmercifully chaffed-him. She played many games with skif and vigor, and there was not a womr- an in Washington that could confs . pete with her in any game calling for strength and great activity. : In spite of this, she was not unwom* anly, and excelled as a harpist, wrote. - poetry and, as the young people of the u::plul reported, “danced like & * % ¥ % 7hen the door bell rings I always walk, not run, to the nearest X