Evening Star Newspaper, June 21, 1925, Page 70

= = HE old man's sleamed through tight, thin|to Yos wi:enever his rheumy eyes | be gurapeea the lolly spurs of | e the clipper in the b La was the only deep-waterman “Blood boat!" he chattered blood boat! But you don't git more o’ my blood!” He shambled along the wharf. at the end of which stood zn office. Op- posite the office, bright and cheery ngainst the zray and dirt of the waterside, o tiny store kept its door open, revealing un Interior (o set the pulses of an ancient mariner leaping., Bl Never a llow oilskin nor a bit of | pre rope; not s tlock or shackle offen broken in port n b :;1 no | =al Le o lin: he 1t fro w century of salty servitude. Glossy plugs of black tobaceo: clay | pipes of virgin whiteness and lissome shape; woolly comforters and stout | shore-going Winter socks: old cheese and soit, white bread; fat sausage and lusclous, boneless ham- all these things, mere fancies of the dreaming sailorman at sea, were clear o the view of oid Pewzwell through ! the open door of the little store he paced up and down before office waiting for the man (o whom he was to make application for the job of watchman of the wharf. Ah! There was a snuz harbor, in deed, for a battered old seadog. If a chap could expect to come at last ingo | such a fair haven as that little store, | now he wouldn’t mind a few decades bitter travail at sea. t chance T got o he zrowled. * He sought for a match. found none. But he had a few pennie: He would | huy matches in that store. He waited until the stream of lunch custemers thinned out and enterec lox o lucifers.” he demanded. slap- | ping down the coin. His yes wan dered around the homey litile place. There were things he hud not noticed hefore from outside —red cand: bright painted toys: rubber ball Children came there evidently. What sort of children would come that hborhood for toy “Your match e dej gr bly savin' money we ha b an to said a ripplinz, | laughing votcs ind old Pezwell | turned and discovered why children | might well come to that store. Men, 100. A “0-year-old girl was offering) him watches. Her biz brown eyes danced mischievous! She was as trim as « brand-new China clipper “Thank ‘e, ma'am.” said Pegwell, confused by the vision. Ile was still dazzled, his box of matches un-, as N man he had waited to see, “Heard you wanted x watchman, sir,” said Old Pexgwell, respectfull He proffered a2 bundle of ships’ dis- | charges as evidence of The man nodded. “Night work.” he said. 17 you sult, in a month I'll zive you a | lay shift, turn and turn about. | N Nothing much to do here, but you'll | ao, have to watch out for strangers. Ltl(‘ of crooks on the water nowaday: Rum, dope, all sorts. s Start fonight.” cu ~ “Six to six. | at = well I.D PEGWELL had landed his first shore job. For the first time since starting out to earn his own living he could afford to gaze cu-| riously at a sailorman. going urge.i staggering zlong to the next blind | pig “Sailors is a lot decided. “Like kid If yuh save up yer on_th " rocks. Yuh'll_have plents o tobacker box he sanz. quaveringly. He pulled up sharpl song, and drifted over towurd the lit- tle store aguin. He would have to| find some place to live, to sleep at| least. That girl looked different from | others he had known. Perhaps she | would tell him where to seek. Ha walked in, more confiden:ly than be- | fore. He had a shore job now. “Plug o' tobacker, miss.” he for. The girl appeared from behind a provision case, putting on a smile as she emerzed. A man thr: deeper into the shadow. Pe. nothing of the forced smile man. His eves were roving, | in the wealth of the stock. When he | re turned to take his tobacco the girl's smile was sunny enough. He felt en- couraged “Beg pardon, T just zot a iob on th' whatf. and thought likely vyou could direc’ me where to it a hed, cheap. 1 ain't a partickler chap. Just as long 's there ain’t too many bugs, or—" “You got terrupted ste su wil .y lummozes,” he ? | th o money. an’ don't { B A stz ked | of | I hu | bes ar dex su s, an. a job on the wharf’ map's voice. A h. who might have been good looking if he could have changed his eves, came from behind the provision case. | “Watchman.” said Pegzwell import- | ant “Night watchman. Know any | place I kin et a bed " “How did you get to hear about this | job? I'm livin' here right along, | Jookin' for a job, and a stranger comes | along and lands it over my head.| re a sailor, ain't you?" 1 No* w: retorted old Peg- well. sailorman. Had good discharge: I'm a watchman new. er sill we vou tu no of wi ref he shi D'you know of a place I ken sleep, | " The vouth drazged the girl aside and they muttered together, ignoring Pegwell. Presently the girl spoke |} sharply, angrily | “It's best for vou to go away,| larry. It's a good thing you never heard of the wharf job. Too many old friends hanging around there. You've ! signed on in the Stella. You know | what the judge sald. Go to work, like | a decent fellow, and you won't bel watched like a— H “Go to work? I'm willing to go to| work, Mary, but what d’vou want to | shove me off into an old square rigger | for? Ain't there work to he got—— | Tt's best that you go away for a | while,” insisted the girl. “You were | Tucky to escape jail when the gang of | smugglers got caught. If vou stay around here thev're sure to watch Yyou: a “‘Beg pardon, miss, but if you know of a place—" interrupted Pezwell impatiently. Larry swung around and grinned crooked “All right, sister,” he told her. “T1l do it to please vou.” He took Pegwell's arm. “I'll find you a hed, | old timer. What time d'you go to} werk?" “Six. Want to get a sleepin’ place afore that.” “Meet me here at 3:30. bunk for you by then.” Eoxia EGWELL started off for a walk, but strests were a barren wilder. ness to him. He gravitated toward the harbor. He found himself some- how n front of the litile store. Methodically he noted the contents of the window, grew amazed at the num- ber and variet “Larry hasn’t come back yet,” the irl called out from the store. “Won't you wait inside?” Fegwell looked sheepish. But the gir! began to chattor to him, and he | felt at ease when she handed him a match for his cold pipe. In half an hour they were friends. She confided little scraps of her own affairs. “Larry’s a good fellow,” she said, a bit sadly. “Too good. He's easy to lead. There has heen a lot of smug gling along the front lately, and he ought to have kept away. But he al- ways seems to have money, never soes 10 work, and when a big capture was made he was under suspicion, | ca 1in, I'll have a teeth | The judze told him he had better go | well. pic tasty | ting on the cap log of the whart. | times you can walk around. are.” tom dead Larry timer. Nomrething heavy old heud. As he pitched forward the luuzh of his friend La realized the treatment awaiting him. T drearfly bitted the unchor clung tenaciously mud We are PA opened. when he stumbled against the | ¢ des: character. | e ofr-ee, lose | haied— zit| M capstan bar with coughinz lungs An’ we're boun’ fer Rio Grande! blue canvas baz made by a sailorman, forts. well un from Ma needles, thr well a warm thrill. | man whose bunk wa fust, me lad.” Pegwell carefully placed his needle vield seasick. THE SUNDAY BY CAPT. DINGLE. work, then folks would be apt to lieve that uc was innocent wse he is innocent! My v couldn’t be u_crook, But he has been under su or bhun n, and I made him join that big |zled bu iling ship, the Stella, for a vevaze. | quarte bunk in the forecastle. He stole le Of | ons - brother | cunnir ATy board, s to other, He stole 1 thereby driving less fo and he can Excuse me, Mr. pegs for his fine new clothe: | By the time the clipper cre {line Pegwell only dimly 0 | Lar) treache He Pes- tall, nped tn. brown-faced man Pexwell was no lon concerning women and's sort; but ety ce light of only mi: of Mary | never worked at. It was easy i up at The gres he knew | point was that for the first t intruding. Puffing furiously |dreary life old Pegwell vipe, he stumped out upon the | water possessed of everythi Larry e his ont. At ed 5:30 found Pezwell sit oid timer. nk for you,” They turned down by a disused and | laden with a il smelling fish dock, out of sight |sided over by a laughing 2 zrowing district biz, b friendly eyes “Have to cross the creek in a boat,” held just a trace of trouble nned Larry. ve time, see. You ve to be on the job now, but ather Here “Come on bu; I got a fine|a flashback of memory to said Larry. of wonders, zirl ock slumber in woolies |sink into armth of sound Larry's At the v of boat inned foot of a perpendicular lad- ds nailed on a slimy pile Three husky bhoatmen snowingly at Larry. A seu bag la the bot- | boat, doubled up lke a| Do Tay. op ie cunvas of the man. ake zood care of my old friend,” ord d. He zently drew - | had been battered by a to the ladder Hurry up. | gale off Cape Horn Soon’s they see you snug they | When a man came fr ve to come back for me.” bafier ta \bwo hour ‘trick he Pegwell stepped on the ladder. nd tottery, and grinning, “Ho! he siid. “That's your seathan a litile insane. =, hey? Well, me son, do yer worl Pegwell stood his * zive the mates no slack. an—" |dry. He felt the bitierness fell upon his gray | weather and the ship He tumbled into the boat.|once his old bones v Pegwell heard | with extreme cold ry, and hfl‘lmdl They sent the your seaman to hold the lee spokes “You just put yer weight when I shoves the helm me son,” said Pegwell teeth chattered: his lanky dernourished, ‘twixt bov shook like a roval mast thrashing sail “Y-vessir!” he chattered. Pegwell glanced sharply once or twice. Since their first | counter over the change of bunk: lad had not been remarkable fo liteness toward the oid man. there was no hint of impudence that “Yessir™" The boy looked bunk ) man’s was 2 zeon bunk reel 3 peopled no was ir with weeping du been Heaven. 17 ) day 1 and whee of but re not % % % 9 E tall clipper put out to s on her forecastlehead mer tramped around the capstan. Hard officers cursed them; an ex perated tughoat skipper bawled; the The body, and under 1w a-ay, Rio fore Yew well, boun' fer Rio Grande ! quavery, broken old pipe raised chantey. The mate left the ighthead, plunging in among the late crew, thumping, thumping. S venomously. { “You sejers’™ he velped. “You dou- | ged sojers! Here's old h come to life again and you let | m show you vour work! Heave, ind you! * Heave! Sing out, old sah! ~ Why, if it ain't mie with us again The mate stood off a at kn s wheel when he could, gripping man peeled heavy jacket. off his he the roared. The watch was pace, staring | Old Pegwell Pepwell. Sailormen rarely made | throush with o voyages in the Stella. | watehed his chance I didn't join, sir,” protested Peg. | the main deck bety ceasing his song. All the men |lex3 cautious. staried opped. Pegwell had tried to per-| When thes ude the captaln he was not one of | the new helm: lad thawed. up, he was glow! was warm, but driving snow to shuffle en sens first old Pegwell an Pe fell well ard the of ubbed a lifeline. ts. The result had been painful. length 20t to be on the job at 6, sir. Il my mew job. 1 was shana- X rts, he clawed his way. 1o the skin, hix br inz with the i out! Start something! Heave,” | “Where's th torted the mate and fell upon the | tered. iserable zang tooth and nail. The “I see = hooted owlishly [ zalley. Jolly g00d ship. an’ a jolly good crew. | “Hell Awu-ay, Rio! | kind Jolly ood mate, an’ a good skipper. | He didn't t00. ordinary orn e shoulders. driving him back to s il vounz feller him bashed up against growled the man git here. Can't lose here.’ never overboard to The rounded git seaman He went old Pegwell tramped around the an; u donkey yoked to the bar of mill; bound by a lifetime | S hard usage to a habit of obedience. | W[ SING Pegwell's bunk had bugs. All the | Svith; cuy nks had bugs. Pegwell's bunk was | W43 Dbitterly cold, men neath a sweat leak where a bit of | S2ilorman’s improvidence = d v rot had crumbled a corner of a |fattered oliskins and soggy Sk bensn Bob Tt o And with all the flendish frs b Cape Horn wesather, the fair hlew itself out, a rolling c¢alm lowed, @nd then another, northiesterly zale shr drove the ship back Ous gray as Lo the southward mbered stil s retying the poi -cafed main topsail. The cap S i = northinz and decks, thot with all g, a ity vealed itself full The old fellow “he of amazing com ad never owned nkets woolly, arm under shirts. Good oilskins, There was a real steel sheath knife. p and matches: ch a bLag. solen. not ar, stockings Iproof boot | water were Only In ithe rearing torrent being hurled along the a frantically wavinz arm or that 4 man was « greate: It siashed the boat zallows. A spare topmast was torn from chain lashings and chocks: | massive d a dainty thing that puzzled Peg he opened it. Tt was a fold- of blue cloth. tied about with a ken cord. On the flat side s orked in silk, beautifully, “Larry Inside, cunning pockets were full of ad. buttons, scissors. And cked into the innermost fold was te. in stress. bidding Larry uct the man, broke a shing him luck, praying for his safe ' cruelly, and rn. The feel of it zave old Pez- | the poop bulkhead. lor's half send on t “Hey. me son, announced oulder of a I want that bunk!” | the spar. rimly, chaking the|with devilish spite. sleeping ordinary sea-|were torn from their leakiess. “C'm | about the flooded decks Able seaman comes | water, hattered near murderous stick Ina lull they secured the spar. | boats were gone. They picked tangled gear, men from the meshes. The wind struck afresh. zered the ship. And hold. in the . Out of it! se in a dry place, then hauled the uth out on to the filthy floor, cotton anket and all. Even vouth must to experience when yvouth i and experience runs along of deep water pully-haul. ; while she HE DRIFTED OVER TOWARD THE LITTLE STORE AGAIN — “PLUG 0’ TOBACKER, MISS,” HE ASKED FOR, Can Justice and Revenge Ever Mean the Same Thing? swell now had the cleanest. driest om the steward, which he hid rom time to time he cut | Mr. Peg-|one in slices, fusioned It to ship's side |grip of cold and numb agony. ! puz- exclusive . ils from Chips: | When he comes back cvervthinz will | made shelves for his little comforts axed the remembered il -eved | recalled the job he had got but hla or the when he saw her old man to slip back into the habits of | the appeer-|a ltetime, even though the ship was wnce of this good-looking fellow whe o hurd place. ed the eye grown weary through half | limped on a shortened leg outstanding | me in his deep | neces- | bunk, for it w <ary for comfort and some luxuries to | Pegwe |boot. And this he owed to Mary Bland. | erings. Old Pegwell usually fell asleep with | L snug lit- |tle store on a dinzy waterside over- pre whose | Sometimes Fhen he | | would think darkly of Larry, only to| the under mis: erable devils to whom hell would have the clipper northwesterly mn the wheel was blue, | more warm and the for | vacked The ship stecred ordinary fearfully at the lad en the B blue. Grumbling, taking a hand from the oke desperately to check it. the old monkey Slip into this ver jacket. me =on!” | When wet H along The lad > in the decp waist man let the ship 2o off his crew as soon as he recovered his|and & milelons hissing sea reared up her When the | clearcd themselves through tne T choking fist thumped him hard hetween |and blinded, (o the forecastle, souked ken teeth Chatter- he chat- ik nearest. them young the | death ezwell's monkey jacket westing b the wind the discarded socks ¥ out of the ts of the main deck chite enanelw:re Wish and pannikin | Was a seething chaos of rope-snarled men deck leg ot dead. | grievance against the man sea thundered aboard. | fiercer loose tick of Orezon pine. roughly lender hand bearinz sizns | squared, it huriled aft on the torrent, ! rowned body | against Pegwell and the watch fought with The seas endued the timber Twice all hands | every dollar coming to him rolled ; voyage he ought never to have made. | to death by the | stout shoes that would last. put the The ul and took two mangled | muttered. it up_or down, lad’s | un. man ng sea climbed over the six-foot bul | warks and filled her decks. | Bill's hurted bad, | now sir,” | screamed Pegwell, shivering in the Bill He hung twisted and pallad between the two men who lift- ' him. They bore him forward. | Stood across the sill of the smashed door of the tiny cabin they shared “This ain't no place for an?” Chips grumble, Man he ought U be took ¢ They told the skipper. “No room aft,” the skipper howled 1t them. “Put him in the foreeastle if Qs any drier. ‘They bore the man beluw. Instine- | tively they laid him in old Pegwell's driest. Al were wet least boasted woolen cov- was the bosun. “ hurted ell th’ Old re of aft.” s at Pewell himself covered the silent form with a blanket. He needed no hint to cover the pallid face. too. He nade no protest when a sallor gently pulled another blanket from under the hosun. K cruel cold. sailor. He wrapped Jack storm victim, in the blanket roughened hands that trembled. Overhead the seas thundered on deck. The Stella fought her stubborn wiy against the gale under three lower topsails. reefed upper main top. suil, and treble reefed foresail with a ribbon of fore topmast staysail ‘he gale died out. A fair came. The ship sped nofth again, scarred but sound, clothed in new canv; triumphant. Ther buried Bill «nd Jack in Pegwell's bedding. By this time Pegwell had little left of his nd outfit. As the rags of his mates zave out, he zrumblingly gave of his store. Grumbled and mave. That Pezwell. But he | never let go of t little blue cloth needle case ins d, “Larry, from Mary.” Slyly he had picked at the stitches until the word “Larry” was becoming indistinguishable. When a few more ads fell out he could |show his treasure to incredulous sailormen. and they would never know that the obliterated name was not his own sald the another with mate,’ wind was * * THE crew scuttied from the Stella like rats when she docked Only | Pegwell hung on Alone of the out {ward bound crew before the mast, he | stubbornly resisted all the efforts of |the mates to get him out. They lcould ship a new crew homeward at | | half the wazes paid outward. None lof the deserters waited for their wages, Their forfeited pay was so much profit to the ship. But Pegwell fused to be driven out. Cheerless and bare his bunk might be. It was. !There was alwayvs the little blue fold {ed housewife to remind him that he {hud a shore jobh once, over ag:zinst a | snug little store. And the ambition { that had flamed then still burned As for quitting_the ship. Pegwell | had wazes due. Not a lot, bul wages still. If he completed the voyage drawing no advance whatever, buying | | nothing from the sloop chest, he would coming to him a nice little nest which might haitch into a home last Homeward bound ell showed his little biue house wife to the new hands. They were a hard lot. They ruade ribald fun about | it. They stele his poor beddinz, and dared him 1o identify it. e endured. They stole his sea boots. Pegwell en. | dured that. too. But somebody stole | little blue housewife. worked in silk, “——: from Mary,” and there was 4 fight It wax a young weasel of a wastrel | whe tried to prevent Pegwell from | teking back his treasure. But the old | seaman fuught on sure feet on a reel ing deck: fouzht with righteous fury | & his breast: fought without fecling the brutal knee or the gouging | thumb. And he beat his man, recov- | |ered his treasure, and earned much | | freedom from molestation. | In the bleak, soul-searching gales off Cape Stiff, Pegwell suffered in-| He shivered and froze in si- | ) n round the Horn e | his it wind fol fercer ieked down and 1to the murder. blue cloth treasure. He whispered his troubles to it as he shivered in his | wet bed—it was the one comfort no {body could take from him. He might ! shake with cold and wet all through | % watch below, but there was ever he. fore him the vision of that snug little t the pretty, laughing girl whose | biz Drown eyes vet held a trace of trouble. Soriehow he zrew to fasten the responsibility for that trouble on Larry. And. once established, his own woldered | When the tall clipper furled {sails in her home port again. Peg | well's bitterness against Larry Bland had intensitied to such a degree us to | surprize the old chap himself. The rest of the fo'mast hands had drawn something on account of wages and zone ashore to spend that and mortgaze the balance due. But not |uld Pegwell. He would carry ashore | rom the her a | ' | He would buy a suit of clothes and | rest of his money in safe hands, then | look for Larry. | D| “IUI be him and me fer it!" he * % % > It stag- | stag- zered and hung poised another chuck- HE ship paid off. In an hour Peg-| well entered the little store, and | in 10 seconds more a Cape Horn voy- | |age in a cardcase packet was a van- Vished horror. The hiz brown eves of | { Bland glistened with welcome. | am so glad to see you again, | Pegwell.” she cried. “It was so good | of vou to change places with Larry 1 hope you had a good voyaze. W | vou come inside?” | Pegwell grinned sourly. He had | meant 1o sa) mething about that | change of jobs. Instead, with warmth ! seeping through his bones clear to his | heart, mellowing it azain. he forgot Larry and smoked himself into rosy | visions under the mus spell ot | her voice, | in an hour they were as intimate as | hefore the Stellx went out. Mary had told him. shyly, that Jack wanted a speedy weddinz: she had bavely hint- | | ed that brother Larry was a stumbiing {block, immediately ~suppressing _the | hint. " She had offered to work Peg- well’s name Into the little blue hous | wife where the word “Larry” had been picked out; and when she took |it from him her eves were suspiciously | moist. | Then Jack came in, and old_ Peg- well went out. The gladness in May eves, the pride in those of the stal- wart cripple, gave the old mariner a thrill. It made him boll, too. There was a couple just aching for each other, hindered by a waster of a brother not worth a crocodile’s tear. Hullo, old Pegwell,” smiled Jack as he passed. “Mighty glad to see you again. Ought to stay this time. Going to buy Mary's shop, she tells me. Hurry up. old fellow. She's keeping me waiting all on your ac- count.” Jack langhed, and went to Mar sifle, leaving Pegwell wondering. He waited in the street until Jack came out, then joined him and put the ques- tien bluntly “What's Tarry up to Jack was serious. His smile fled at the blunt demand. “I wish Larry would either get bumped off or caught with the goods, Pegwell,” Jack said. “He's breaking m't | | | Juck was silent for & moment i this 10 a | Larry | night | Larry. | again | the STAR, WASHINGTON, Bound for Rio Grande Mary's heart. If he was would be better off. The rat has en all her little savings and is| about eating up her profits now. She | won't marry, though Larry’s way of | living don't influence me a bit where | she’s’ concerned. If Larry got sent up for a long stretch it would be bet ter for Mary, thovzh she would mourn | him as if he was dead. I wish she would get rid of the store, guit this neighborhood, and let ake her happ But she won't, that rat is loose. “Didn’t ‘e go (o work on the dock” egwell, razing ) th' Stella and took my job, “Ie held the job quit Jack replied. “He said he'd made a killing at the races. Two | watchmen since have either fallen off | the dock at night or been thrown off.” for one week and “Pegwell,” said Jack at length, “I'm glad vou're home. You can do a lot for Mary I ought not to mention soul: but believe vou are her friend. “Iriend”"" rasped you're bloody foolish! kin use me fer a show you what s fust time I set eyes on that | ¥Not loud Jack whispered They passed a policeman, who nodded to Jack. Pegwell, they're out to get now! I have done all 1 can 1 can't shield him any longer. He's out of town for a while, but when he comes back he's going to be jumped on. and he’ll get 10 vears “Wot d'vou think I can do?" de manded Pegwell. “Can 1 save him when you can’t? Want me to go up| for him, same s« I made a Cape voy age for him?" The old man was fu rious “You can only be a fi fort to Mary," said Pegwell's wrinkled fac up grotesquely with the his thought “Seems to me. Wwas to sore of hurry her din’. maybe vou could comfortin’ yourseli. If I had money enough to offer to buy her shop ofi her 1 ¢'d take care the Larry rat .‘* “Oh, vou have money enough,” re-1 torted Jack quickly. “Mary said long | o vou could pay out of profits. You only’ need about a hundred pay down. 1 guess vou have that much.” * ok % o PESWELL was apparently not tening: vet in fact he was. Hel| seemed to be looking sheer through | the cold. zray drizzle into the future, | and if his worn, lined old face was | any guide, what he saw in the dim perspective of imagination held more{ lizht than shadow i “What's th’ wust this ver Larry ~, 1 Peswell. “Mister, That little zal door mat, an’ I'll 't of friend I am nd and com- uietly serewed ntensity of it a he a vou in wed do a bit o lis done?” he suddenly asked. “Killed anybody?” | “Oh, no. replied Jack swiftly. “Nothing like that. He's just a plaini crook. Dope smuggling: peddling. too. | The worst he's done is to sell dope to school kids. Bad enough, I'd say.” | “Not quite as bad es murder, I' ‘pose.” Pegwell growled. “though bed blowed ef I know why it ain't. Anyv, how, Jack, me lad, vou take the ad. vice of an old lummicks, marry Marvt whether she wants to or not, and I'll} promise to take ecare o Larry. LUll see he don't it sent up. You iell’ hey I be going round tonight and see how fur veou're right about that hundred down and hundred when you ketch me shop purchase | proposition. S'long, Jack. Set them.| 1in" bells to ringin’. | Late that night Mary Bland bade Pegwell cood night at_the door of thef little shop. She was rosy and =mil ing Her brown eyves were wide and brizht. Pezwell had never seen her completely alive and gladsome., She shook his hand twice. and just for a tiny instant 2 speck of cloud flickered in her eves | “If you believe you can help Larry, | I know vou ean.” she said “1 Know he wiil be safe fn your care, old Peg- well.” “He'll git a man's chance make sartain,” stated Peswell. Mi: an’ keep smilin’ be around to meet Jack in the morn- in’ and setile about the shop. Forzit ver troubles. Th' cops dom't want If they did they couldn't git vou him At the end of the week Old ¥ took undivided charse of the shop, while Jack and Mar about on some mysterious business connected with a licens Old Peg- well stood in the deor watching them, and his oid plpe emitted clouds of smoke in sympathy with the depth of | his breathing. He felt queerly tight about the heart. “Bless ‘em.” he barked chokily. | A man came to buy tobuacco. The | two men stared at each other | “If 't ain’t old Pegwell!” roared the | mate of the Stella. “Come to moor- inzs at last. hey. vou old fox?" Aye. mister. you won't bully Pegwell no more. When d've s mate laughed, picking up well little went old i | his Saturda I'll put ver | on yer old bu Or praps like to sail bosun, hey?" Pezwell laughed comfortably. spread his feet wide he in the doorway. gazinz after| rolling figure of the mate. At/ last, at last, he was man enough to tell a first mate to go scratch his ear. Tle turned to go inside, for the air was cold in spite of the sun, and the shop must be kept warm, when a scurr ing figure doubled the corner, burst in"after him and slammed the door Larry Bland stood there before him, { panting, wild eyed. “Where's Mary?" he rasped. “Gone out, me son,” said Pegwell grimly. “Just calm down. I own this here shop now. What kin I do for you? Larry glanced around the place fur- tively. " He had a hunted look. Peg- well remembered Jack's words. A dark shape appeared against the glass of the door outside and Larry made for the inside room. Pegwell hastenod him in as the door opened and a po- liceman entered. “Larry Bland just came in here. Where is he?” he demanded. “Orf'cer, lLarry Bland shanghaied me @ vivaze round Cape Stiff,” grinned Pegwell. “D'yvou ‘magine he'd come where 1 be?” “I saw him open the door.” “Aye, an’ he soon shut it agin” Ok k¥ HE policeman stepped to the door of the inner room and peered in- side. Old Pegwell heaved a tremen- name vou'd He | stood | | M | for | minds | such GRUMBLING. THE OLD MAN PEELED OFF HIS HEAVY MON. KEY JACKET. LIP INTO THIS YER JACKET, ME SON.” HE ROARED. dous sigh of relief when he quickiy turned and bolted from the shop. Larry had taken care of his own con cealment. He crawled in through a rear window when Pegwell called his name. “Where's hoarsely “You can't Mar, Larry gone?” looked get 1o her.” returned Pegwell “If it's the coppers you're scared of, lay low and keep ver head I won't let no cops git vou, less you cuts up rough You git u yer own room, while 1 what to do.” “You ain’t gettin' even snarled Larry suspiciously In my own way, yes, me son. My way don't mean lettin’ no cops git Mary Bland's brother. You duck into cover. When Mary and Jack ran up to old Pegwell an warmily. shylyv he red asked are vou?' returned she kissed him howed him a brand-new ding ring. Jack laughed took vour advice, Pegwell’ “Ne time like the present you're sole proprietor come back tomorrow few belongings. Just her to myself. o long. wed he Sa here. to get now 1 Come now We'll v's nt Nary! When Mary 2ppeared in the morn ing to pack her things Larry was se- curely out of sizht. Ol Pegwell had been busy all night. He had made a stout, roomy chest, iron cleated and hinged. Ile had made Larry help him keeping him in mind of the police Now Larry croucheg in the big chest in the cellar, while Mary sang happily and packed “I do hope hour here, Pegw ready to leave. 11 will * Mar enjoy every said when ne said vou promised Larry comes to no harm Missy,” replied Pegwell gravely, won't let Larry get into no ible with the police. I'm goin’ to 10 see that 1 t BY CARL: SHOUP. HEN you crawl into hed tonight and sink into that stupor we cail sleep, vou do not think vou are wast- ing time. Yet science has never discovered any real purpose which we thus spend one-third of our lives fn unconsciousness. Do we sleep to replenish our nervous enerzy—to give our tired bodies and a necessary rest? That only a theory—pure guesswork: und. as Dr H. L. Hollingworth, professor of psychology at Columbia Univer- sity, points out, it is a theory which is in direct conflict with certain known facts. Dr. Hollingworth takes @ different view of this mystery—for it is. Sleep, he says. is probably nothing but a useless habit. Just as the ap- vendix is a useless organ that has survived from the days when it had a duty to perform, so sieep has sur- vived from long ages ago, when it, t00. had a use. It may very well be, he adds, that we can entirely eliminate sleep in the future by scaling it down gradually and getting accustomed to going without it. This would mean that a “sleeples race would virtually have its span of life increased by one-half; and as for a man's leisure time—it would be doubled! Dr. Hollingworth's theor ple one. It takes us back to those re mote days when our ancestors—who ever they may have been—were hem- med in by absolute darkness when night fell.’ They had no lanterns or electric lights by which they might make traveling safe. “According to this theory,” Dr. Hol- lingworth explains, “those who insist- led on prowling about both day and night failed to survive as long as | the others did. because in the dark ness of those primitive unelectric dayvs they were so easily destroyed by lurk- ing foes and wild animals. Again, per haps they would lose their way dur ing the night in the desert, forest or swamp: or they might slip and fall over unseen precipices. So they left practically no descendants to imitate | their sleepless example. 2 e 'HUS our genuine ancesters were those cautious savages who went T abroad in daylight when their way | vas clear before them, but hid in ut-) ter silence and quiet when the danger- ous night came on. Now, this was probably rather difficult for a healthy man to do—to coop himself up all through the long hours of darkness; so the individuals best fitted for sur- vival were those who had, as an acci- dental variation, a tendency to while away that period by falling into a stupor. “In this way arose sleep—a heredi- tary, instinctive adaptation to dark- ness. We, today, still inherit that in- stinct, despite its uselessness. It is ‘useless,’” according to this theory, be. cause now we can turn night into day | by merely pressing a button: we need | no longer be afraid of the dark as were our ancestors. mains that we do inherit this disas- trous habit, just as we inherit our an- noying appendix, our eyebrows, our useless tonsils, qur dangerous wisdom teeth, the degenerate muscles that She blushed at his gaze and | { “Jack rather rushed | me off my feet: but I'm glad, hecause is | is a sim-{ But the fact re-| {try to make a man outa him. So zood {luck to you, and God bless vou Ie telt warm, moist cheek, the door opened gone. On Thursday the shop again. Larry {in the district | *“He wuz here. but Itoday.” suid Pezwell old was in a sweating fret arry getting impatient. He had demanded to see his sister and threatened to take his chance on the street. Peg { well had to lock the chest on him “He's likely to come back. then.’ decided the officer in charge One o you camp here” he toid of his men. “I don’t think he’ll hother much.” Pegwell volunteered done me dirt and knows I'll git « Pegwell was outwardl ward] when that policeman took hix station in the inner room. |all a-quiver. The noon stream of cus {tomers came in and kept him husy but he dreaded the quiet of the afier noon. Another policeman ca to take a turn of duty over night nd <lept in a chalr in the back roor Pekwell. upstairs, remained awake all night, listening lest the officer ploring, dreading every moment hear some betraving sound from cramped Larry in the cell Kkiss on and police visited the | Sahn I ain't The seen him chap in up the LL day Fridey he had 10 give Larry either food All he could do was hurriedly by and murmur through the 1id of the chest u few harsh {words of reassurance that relief was |at hand. 1In the evening he closed the shop, left the policeman in chargze and went out for an hour | When he cume hack he began to | make up several small parcels of to- baceo. “Got a bit “ he told no chance 10 pass | ter sole, o trade from the policeman the Stel- Nothir la wiggle o and a number er vestigal traces of our lowly ears of oth ar origin Some may argue that since seems to be a natural response with newly born infants. it is therefore a | necessity. That is poor reasoning. for |the ‘graspinz reflex’ is a natural re. sponse with newly born infants, vet it |certainly is not a necessity. By ‘grasping reflex’ 1 mean this: If vou touch the palm of the infant's hand with a stick it will immediately grip it firmly firmly that it can support its own weight by that grasp. This is not a reasoning act—it is an automatic reflex, such as we experience when we jerk away after touching a hot iron, and, likewise, when we sleep. But this automatic reflex is trained out of the child. because it would be dangerous for it to zrab tightly on to anything its hand might touch—a red-hot poker, for instance. 1f one automatic reflex can be trained out, why not another? So far as we know, it is not at all im- possible to eliminate sleep by gradually cutting it down and getting used to go ing without it. “So much for this biologi | of sleep. facts to contradict it: while all the other reasons and guesses that have been advanced are quite clearly incon- sistent with certain things that we know. Most of these other explana- tions of sleep are based on supposed accumulation of poisons in the sy tem, or congestion of anemin of the nervous system, or a_dulling of the senses as the day progresses. Let us see why these are all inadequate to explain sleep. “In the first place, when we sleep, we do not sleep ‘all over.’ The hea: and the diaphragm keep on working | steadily. Many of the simple reflexes | (for example, the one 1 mentioned be- { fore, jerking away when a hot sub- stance touches the body) are in con sleep theor DR. H. L. HOLLINGSWORTH, PROFESSOR OF PSYCHOLOGY AT COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY. n to be il was | At least there are no known | | like slop mister At 11 and Ever think o tobacker for profits startin’ a shop? o'clock a cart rattled up the door, loaded up with sea chesis |und bags. with two husky toughs he side the driver and a heap of brutish ! ing in the back s sn “Come for they said Here's 11 Pr | “We huskies. Pegwell Pegwell chatted the policema as he handed out the tobacco parce He talked loudly, calling the police office the chest was cal t. That was for Larry’s ben: dtherwise Larry might won heing dobe to him riunate notwe. i Pegwell ader said, and | he had been countinz Pegwell carefully set a weddinz present he knew: then he joined 1r for »od-night sn birlliantly, surprisinz th' slops an’ tobacker chest is in th I'll give y can handle and one of said Peg basemer a hand th S v heavy it.” returned them winked - the money to Pegwell Pman ing it the next mornine « usy, snow had falle The water of the har nd cruel. Old Pegwell shivered and plied hi was giad he had not 1 perhaps stamping aros It felt 0od 10 know that It made him sing And awa-ax. Rin! Awaay. Rin' Then fa‘c you well. my honns younz ea | For we re bound for Rio Grande ¥From down the bay came the he a tug. And, claar and shar lically shattering 1he morning heas ness, came also the clack, clack clack of capstan pawls, the “fare you wel of an outward-bounder. ight. 1€ broom be e wut there ‘What Is the Real Purpose Of Sleep in Da 1 ly Life? Ever . a | stant reac some of th iness to function voluntary mu: as those nz the posture the body, may remain in contraction o that we can sleep in a sitting posi tion, or even. if the reports be true | standing or riding on horseback. “Certainly no th ed upor the action of poisons system congestion or anemia of the nervo tissues, mechanical shrinking of neurones (nerve cells), or progressiv dullinz of the senses, are reconcilable h these fact “And since such important parts o the system as we have mentione | never sleep. it is certainly not obviou why the rest of the system must pas into a stupor.” ries 1 in the INCE so many | advanced to theories have heen account for sleep. | what. it may be asked. has been done { to find out ‘whether or not this time waster is really necessary? | wYothing at”all. says Dr. Holling | worth. There have been plenty of ex periments to show what happen to people when their regular routine wa< uddenly interrupted and they were | kept awake for 160 hours or so. But there have been no scientifically con |trolled experiments to show what | would happen if. over a long perina of vears, we cut down gradually ! our sleep, ““We spend great sums of money tn {exterminate the mosquito, the house {fly and diseases such as cancer ami {tuberculosis,” declares Dr. Holling worth. “but the greatest scourge « {mankind is allowed to rage unmoles: ed. There has been no large endow ment available for investizating slean scientifically over a long period of time Would it he possible to carry o scientific experiments as to the pos. sibility of a “sleepless race”? Dr. Hal {lingworth believes it could be dane | “But it would be a very expensive proceeding.” he savs. It would he necessary to have a large number of people living under a strict routi for 10 or perhaps 20 vears. Tin amount of sleep could be reduced <n sradually that the body would have » | 200 chance to become adjusted 1o th | new conditions. We couid see. then {if sleep is reallv as necessary as we iall seem to useume it fs.” | Here is a simple problem in mathe | matics: If you reduce vour sleep by {five minutes every two months—sure Iy not a very abrupt chanze—how many vears would vou have to keen that up before your sleeping period would be reduced to zero? Sixteen ears is the answer (provided you start at eight hours per night). In 16 years the stupor of sleep would be banished—if it could be. Dr. Holling- worth was asked if he advised against any one trying that experimers. No,” he said. “T think it would e quite a sensible thing to do, I the in dividual found that it was really wear ing him down he could easily stop. “We should give the same conse: ation to this tragedy that we do o other human ills. At any rate, it's go ing to be done sometime—the era of | big investigation is not far off. —_— Early Broadeasting. S early as 1896 the capital of Hun sary. Budapest, had an organiza tion " called “Telefon Hirmondo which broadcast music. news whole operas by telephone.