Evening Star Newspaper, October 25, 1931, Page 84

THE SUNDAY STAR, B,IY CI:-I A 1R "— 4 Case of Mistaken Identity, ILLUSTRATED BY JAMES H, HAMMON. NE wouldn't pick Gibraltar for business any more than one would pick Bill Holderness. No good would come of it, and yet , .. that is where Bill first saw Shan- non Wister, and good is largely & matter of opinion, after all His yellow-varnished hack wheeled around 8 corner and gave Bill a view of the harbor, & cruiser, several destroyers and submarines and, out beyond, a great liner, pausing here in her Spring Mediterranean cruise circuit to Algiers, Naples, Monte Carlo, Marseille and out through Gibraltar again. Bill was going aboard only for the overnight run to Algiers. Bill's attitude, the anti-climax of his too- Stiff dose of war at too tende: an age, was an amusing disparagement of everything and especially of business, love, marridge, golf, horses, houses, and all those things so dear to the Holderness tradition. “You're all bogged up in life,” he told his family, and felt sorry for them, althcugh nobody felt sorry for him. And so, thanks to a small legacy from a renegade aunt, he'd gone comfortably on his black sheep, wandering way until he was broke. “To Go as you like with,” had been his aunt’s stipulation, and Bill had done it. His father, the founder of Holderness World Wide Travel Service, got him a job, several jobs, in fact, the last one with a Pittsburgh steel com- pany. Naturally the old gentleman had been sur- prised a week ago to encounter his son in the race course stands at Longchamps. “This is Paris, not Pittsburgh, Bill,” he had said with extraordinary mildness. “Did you lose your way? Or have you been fired again?” “No, sir,” said Bill buoyantly, “I was too quick for them. I quit . . . with flags fly- ing. What do you think of Princessina for the next race, sir?” Old Man Holderness shrugged his heavy, stooped shoulders. *“I was not thinking of the next race, Bill I was thinking mostly of the next generation.” TLL had glanced curiously at the Old Man and saw the first Holderness tear he had ever seen in his adult life on the Old Man's nose. i He said: “I'll come down to the Place Ven- dome office tomorrow and go to work.” "His father shook his hand away. “You young villain, are you daring to feel sorry for me? I've got a cold, I tell you. All right, you be there. And you needn't hope to be fired. Or, come dine with me tonight, Bill. There's a girl I want you to know, the sort of girl you ought to know.” The girl was ash-blond, pretty, and echoed one’s ideas very cleverly, indeed. She would Jook well in an opera box, on a hunter, at the head of a Holderness dinner table. Her name was not Shannon Wister. It was Arlene Sea- bury, but a week in Paris and the impulse of & taxicab smash-up in the Rue Castiglione were enough to make her Bill's figncee. He kissed her a couple of times and she started talking about the relative residential merits of Long Island and Westchester. When Bill started on his business trip, he said, “I suppose you’ll write, my dear?” “I'll telegraph at every stop on your list and I'll be waiting when you end up at Nice,” she promised. Bill knew she would be as good as her word, and no better. Still, his old man ought to have, life being what it was, the sort of a son he wanted, at least. The Old Man had pushed a bundle of eon- tracts at him and said: “You go South through France and Spain, across to Algiers, back to Barcelona, and then east along the Pyrenees and the sea to the Riviera. You'll have to bargain, bluff, browbeat and cajole. I want every contract signed when we meet you at Nice or . . .” As far as Gibraltar every contract was signed. @very Frenchman, Basque, Spaniard who had & few suitable motor cars had been bluffed, browbeaten, bargained with or cajoled. Bill bhad received 17 telegrams from Arlene, each one reading: “Love and success to my business boy.” The first nine were uniform anyway, and after that he took it for granted without opening them. Besides, there was something sbout “business boy” that stuck in his esoph- agus. And at Gibraltar he saw Shannon Wister Sor the very first time. A flat, open tender, already crowded with Bappy, sport-clad cruise passengers returning to the liner, lay waiting for him at the wharf. Besides Bill, the only other person aboard with baggage was a girl, a quiet self-contained girl who stood alone at the bow with her face turn- od away toward Africa and her slight, cloaked figure held erect with some apparent rigidity of purpose of her own. Bill paid no attention to the girl. Later on be remembered having seen her, that's all. He went aboard the liner, saw his things safely #nstalled in cabin C-36 and went on deck to enjoy the last of the afternoon sunlight. A Balf hour remained before the last tender would geturn to shore. He settled himself comfort- ably in one of the long line of deck chairs, most of them empty just then. Bill knew it was somebody else’s deck chair, s attested by the name in the little card rack @t the top of it: “Mr, Irving K. Chadd, 3d4.” Be thought Mr. Chadd wouldn't mind and he was right. Mr. Chadd had only departed to Betch a book and a blanket from his cabin and De was a little surprised to find his deck chair pccupied, but he didn’t mind. “Oh, don’t move,” he said. “I can sit here #n the next chair just as well. What does it Mmatter?” Mr. Irving K. Chadd sat down in the next ehair. Mr. Chadd was about Bill's age, Mr. Chadd was very nearly as tall as Bill. Mr. Chadd had approximately Bill's brown hair. Mr. Chadd and Bill were approximately the same well-bred, vigorous American type. Bill sup- ” posed Mr. Chadd was a scion of the plutocratic Chadds of New York and what Mr. Chadd sup- posed about Bill is in doubt. As soon as one thought they were alike, they were different. The corners, at least one corner, of Bill's mouth turned blithely up, whereas the corners of Mr. Chadd's mouth turned mourn- fully down. Bill's eyes were gray and Chadd’s were vague, and there were other things a girl might notice. Bill said: “It ought to be great cruising about* on a boat like this.” “I suppose it is,” agreed Chadd, “...for some people.” - UT when Bill explained that he hadn't taken a deck chair because he was only crossing to Algiers on business, a new light came into the fellow's eyes. The word “business” seemed to do it. ““Tell me about it,” he said, sitting forward. “I'm interested in business, any kind. I used to be good at it myself. Very good, in fact, one of the cleverest in New York. Ask anybody.” Bill didn't see anybody to ask. He outlined briefly the Old Man’s scheme for a string of private car motoring agencies along the touring routes of Europe. “My job is to sign all the best ones up before the other big travel service companies get wind of what we're doing.” Irving K. Chadd listened, almost in a coma of rapt interest. “That's just the sort of thing I'd be good at,” he sighed. “I'm persuasive when I want to be. Then you’ll have a chain of day-run private motors for people instead of their tak- ing one car In Paris for a long trip—less cost, less expense for driver's keep, driver's more intimate knowledge of his own stretch of roads, better chance of picking up return passengers. I'd like to drop in at your cabin sometime and look over the plan.” “Any time you like,” said Bill. “It's C-36.” He glanced dukiously at his companion, won- dering just what it was about the fellow that was queer. “Do you actually like business?” Irving K. Chadd regarded Bill sadly and ‘with equal suspicion. “I do,” he said. “So would you if you were as good at it as I am and had to dawdle your days away on cruises with a trained nurse hanging about all the time. Do you know what I think of trained nurses? Well, let me tell you, they are a race of fiends. They take pleasure in tormenting a fellow. If you so much as laugh out loud, they take your tem- perature.” Mr. Chadd chuckled deep in his throat while Bill began looking for a chance to escape. “But I make it as tough for the trained nurses as they do for me. You see, three years ago last Summer, up in Maine, I dived on a rock, and as a result I go a bit dippy now and then. But that’s no reason why the family has to keep a blasted trained nurse with me all the time. Is it. As man to man, now?” “I've got to go send a radio,” said Bill, start- ing up. Mr. Chadd detained him, resting an insistent hand on his arm. “Anyway, the trained nurse they sent with me on this cruise threw up the sponge and quit at Casablanca. Except for the ship’s doc- tor and for a gang of stewards, I've been free for two whole days. It's too sweet to last. The family will arrange for another nurse by cable, and I'm surprised she didn’t come aboard here at Gibraltar. Did you see any grim, stiff- backed females on the tender? Why, some of the nurses I've had could have gone four rounds with Jack Dempsey..."” Bill did not notice the sudden panic which changed Irving K. Chadd’s entire expression at that moment, his quick, wild glance down the deck, his hunted and haunted despair. All Bill noticed was that he had Mr. Chadd’s book and blanket in his lap and caught one glimpse of the gentleman’s retreating back. “Don’t let on you saw me,” called Mr. Chadd over his shoulder. Speculating on just what that meant and the dangers of diving Into rocky pools in general, Bill's thoughts were broken by a very soft but firm little voice and the blanket being removed from his lap, unfolded and vigorously shaken. “You should have this about you, Mr. Chadd. These Mediterranean evenings are treacherous. I'm Miss Shannon Wister, your new nurse, and I'm sure we are going to get along nicely to- Bill lookeg up into the biggest, bluest eyes he’d ever seen, the bluer for her prim, white- capped blue uniform, and the bigger because of her long blick lashes and the not quite con- fident determination which made a dimple in her strange little face. He laughed. “I'm sure we would,” he said— “if I were Mr. Chadd. It seems to me Mr. Chadd has et last got a break.” She went straight ahead wrapping the blan- ket expertly about his feet and legs, and he realized she was not so frail and slight as she lopked. He realized also that she was not impressed by his hint that he was not Mr. Chadd. E sat up, laughing. “Sorry, Miss Wister, but my name is Holderness, cabin C-36. But I'll have a talk with your Chadd, and if he frightens or abuses you, I...” . “If you make any disturbance, Mr. Chadd,” “I call the cabin Answering a listle nod of Miss Webster's head, an The steward regarded him without compre- hension. ; “Now, we're going {0 be sensible, Mr. Chadd,” said Mr. Chadd’s nurse. “The doctor says you had & temperature this morning and he wants me to put you to bed before dinner. Will you come along quietly?” . “Not unless I'm suddenly paralyzed,” stormed Bill. . Answering a little nod of Miss Wister’s head, an avalanche of stewards swarmed down upon him. There was a certain practiced team- work about it. - Bill hadn't a chance, altheugh as he was dragged down the corridor and up the aft companionway two members of the attacking forces dropped limply out of action with looks of dazed surprise upon their faces. The rest of them yanked their violently re- sisting victim finally into a luxurious A-deck suite and pitched him headlong on the bed. Before Bill quite realized where he was, Miss Wister had his shoes off and his collar unfastened, but he absolutely refused to sur- render his shirt. “Oh, please, Mr. Chadd . . .” He was aware that a tear gleamed on the lashes of one of Miss Wister's big blue eyes. “Very well,” he said, “I'll go to bed. But I won't be put to bed. You'll have to clear out first. You will wish you had never laid eyes on me soon enough, and when I catch that Chadd . . .” = Miss Wister shook her head "sadly. “Bad as I needed a case and bad as I wanted to get back to America,” Mr. Chadd, if I'd known you had hallucinations I wouldn't have come. I'll wait outside for 10 minutes. Then, if you are not in that bed, I shall have to call the stewards.” “Let 'em come,” said Bill. When the door closed he sat down on the bed to think things over. It was all perfectly clear. This Chadd fellow had stolen his pa- pers, his bag—everything!—and skipped ashore. Well, he’d have to wait, that was all. He couldn’t very easily swim back to Gibraltar, He was suddenly aware that he ached in almost every bone and muscle and that the bed felt soft and inviting. Such a pair of blue silk pajamas as he himself would never have presumed to own he found under the pillow. Five minutes later he was in them and between the fresh, cool sheets. Miss Wister came in, thrust a thermometer into his mouth and put her palm on his fore- head. He didn’t like the thermometer, but he liked the little palm. “Of course, she said, shaking down the mer- cury—"“of course, you have more fever. Now what havc you gained by it all, Mr. Chadd?” “Oh, 7> away,” said Bill. “What time does the doctor come? But I suppose he's as crazy as the rest of you.” LONGdterhkmpperotelwmpmdee mange she sat beside him reading aloud. The romance she chose stirred » very genuine feeling now and then, and afte: wme such mt.heghneedwmdlmhmm “You weren't listening, were you?” . “I was looking. Your lor your face, Miss Wister, » body, and, if not for these, for some sacrifice on the altar of their discontent. “As a matter of fact, there are plenty of in the United States who have the i become the ‘strong leaders” of history. be such they must have power—autocrati tyrannical power. Uneducated peoples cannot attend %o their own affairs must such leaders. Educated peoples do not them and will not tolerate them. the autocrat in industry as for the politics. “In my opinion, there is no use any Napoleons to lead us on to economic litz—or to Waterloo.” Such a statement is well nigh | in Washington, where nearly every one on the theory that it is feasible to heal a leg, control & human appetite or amend the: of gravity by making a speech or_en law. 4 2 Mr. Gifford is not pessimistic about country’s ability to weather the He is operating on the theory that there ample resources available to meet all demands for aid. Also, he has been at pains to point out that it is_easy to get exaggerated idea of the probable burden charity, private or public, during the Winter. : When it was suggested to him that the “ IPLING once wrote that their hearts are small, o over all.” Men have die tion of Home ss of mo co the fog-shrouded shores-of moss trails from the live oaks, to mountains and the valleys. 1 kn dunes, and another tells me wo wind sings in the pine irees, S proves beloved over all.