Grand Rapids Herald-Review Newspaper, February 9, 1901, Page 6

mse steenenoeeaee Danaea AEE ISIE IETY ES HAND & § A Story of the Secret Socicly Known as + the “Ragged » @ Thirteen” - #7 By Edward Hughes. fH Hef hor A AP HAR, CHAPTER X (Continued.) I cannot describe, in nautical lan- wuage, what happened during the two er three days that followed the on- coming of that gale. Higher and high- er the sea rose, and the fury of the hurricane rose to such a pitch that the gails already set could not be taken in, go they were left to split and blow out, streamer-wise, their fragments crack- fag like whips, until they tore away al- together and went driving down the jwind. At last there was so little left that we scudded away almost under bare po plunging through the howl- fing waste of waters, still holding our eourse, since the skipper could not or would not lay her to. And every tim- ber seemed to be starting loose, and to ‘®e adding its groaning and creaking to the general turmoil, while by day the erests of tle huge billows seemed to gwing up to the sky, and by night a ldarkness descended upon us that ena- Died us to realize the full measure of that dire plague that came at Moses’ bidding. On the third evening the skipper goined me below as I was trying to swallow some food—and this was no easy matter—and he discussed our fate fm such a cool, methodical manner that I could do nothing but sit and stare at him. When he went on deck I turned fm—for it was useless to accompany hhim, to hang on and be drenched by the spray that came flying over us, or fhalf-drowned by the heavy seas that feared up like sreen walls and broke ever the counter—and amid that wild lullaby I went to sleep, to he presently a hand laid heavily upon ened me. It was the skipper who had aroused me. “They're makin’ a raft for’ard,” eaid he. d you'd best tumble out if you don’t nt to be drowned in your bunk.” Rubbing my eyes, I sat up and loo 1 at him by the dim light of the e sing lamp, and saw the water «a 1g from his overalls. “They’re making a raft, 1s and the schoon- er's settling down y the head every minute. Her bottom’s like a sieve, and all because that cursed niggardly own- yer wouldn't spend a few pounds on her. ‘Come on deck as soon as you're ready, and don’t be long about it,” so, pulling en some clothes, I speedily followed him. On the cabin table lay a package of eartridges, and close to it a revolver of heavy make, slipping from side to side as the craft rolled, and, without wait- fng to analyze reasons, I took them up and thrust them into my pocket. When I reached the deck I could see, in the @ull, gray light—for morn had come upon us—that most of the people on board had congregated for’ard, but the eaptain was at the wheel, and was steering as methodically as though we were running under easy canvas in a smart breeze. When I crept close to him he bawled to me to “get for’ard! {He wasn’t going to sea on a land-lub- jber’s craft. and, his only boat being stove in, if the schooner was to go ‘down, he’d go, too.” And he made me understand that as soon as we had se- cured ourselves he would bring her up @ bit, so that when she dipped we should be launched. “Tell ’em to hold up their hands when they’re ready!” Not a foot would he budge, say what 4 might, so there I left him, and I was the last of his kind that he ever had @peech with. And never was a greater eontrast presented in the behavior of human beings than was found at either end of that ship. Aft stood the skip- per. holding the spokes of the wheel, as coolly as he would have done his knife end for and forward a gang of wretches whose natu) selfishness was eharpened by the danger to such a pitch that each of them would, I be- Neve, have sacrificed the lives of his comrades if only he might thereby ‘gave his own precious skin. And they were for ordering me off to make shift for myself, but I found two powerful allies—the one, big Jim Swee- mey, who meant me for another fate than that of drowning, and the other, the revolver I had taken from the cab- {n,which I so effectively flourished that % elbowed my way into their midst and took the best place. And when every- ‘ne had tied himself as best he could {to the raft, they were like to have gone down just as they were, for none ef them would let go his hold to give the captain the signal, until at last I fheld up my hand and waved it to and ‘gro. The brave fellow looked back, and, presently, seeing a huge billow driving upon us, he made answer with his fhand, and, catching the wheel, he spun 4t around, and with a jerk, and for the fast time, the Nightingale answered her helm, and plunging her bows into the great wall, she shook us off. As the waters were closing over us I saw ‘her stern lift high, with the steers- man’s figure cut clean against the gray elouds, and then—he went to his reck- ening. But not alone, for when again I felt fhe wid rush of the wind lifting my hair, there remained on the raft only myself and Sweeney. He was so close to me that our garments touched, and go here was I, a co-battler for life with the man who had hunted down my father, and who was even now on his ‘way to help in his murder, and I think ft had entered my mind even before the wecond wave had rolled over us that if Icould compass it he should never reach land again. As though satisfied with the havoc it fhad wrought, and the lives it had tak- en, the storm began to abate, and went @own as rapidly as it had risen, though for the greater part of the day the sea fan so high that we were hard put to fit to keep on the raft. ‘Towards evening every cloud had dis- ‘appeared, and the sun went down send- fmg her last level rays skipping from ‘wave to wave, and leaving the moon to . Sight up a sca whose silver sheen was ‘wroken only by the broad outlines of ay, our raft. By good fortune one very small cask of provisions and one of water were left to us, and Sweeney, caring little for the morrow, ate and drank to repletion, and, stretching himself upon the timbers, was soon fast asleep. The moonbeams played on his face and gleamed on his strong, white teeth until he looked uglier and fiercer than ever. There he lay at my mercy, and I fin- gered the revolver, that I had con- trived to keep dry, and crept nearer trived to keep dry, and crept nearer and nearer to him; but the peaceful surroundings and the remembrance of the terrible danger from which we had just escaped, held me back, and let him sleep on. I ate some of the provisions, and, fearing lest my companion might fin- ish the rest at one sitting, I filled my pockets, and it was well that I did so, for, before the next evening the cask was empty, and Sweeney hurled it in- to the sea with a curse. “4 we're here long, me boy,” said he, glaring at me, “it’s sitin’ one another we'll be, and faix, I don’t intind to let you make mincemate av me, and may- be 'twouldn’t much matter if I finished him up, and brought him beck that way to Maurice.” The latter part of this truculent speech was made sotto voce, but if he had known that T had heard and un- derstood we should have speedily grap- pled. I should have been no match for him with Nature’s weapons, but my re- volver gave me a very decided ad- vantage, and his remarks but strength- ened my resolve to use it freely as soon as the right moment arrived. 1 got no chance that night, for his sleep was restless, and he lay as far away from me as he could, and whenever 1 moved he sat up and glared at me. The next day, when the sun beat down up- on us, he ersk the rest of the water, and thirst came upon us apace, and all traces of humanity seemed to be leav- ing us rapidly, and, but that he knew I had the weapon and was watching him keenly, he would have attacked | me. He sat aloof from me on the empty water keg, at the far end of the raft, and had I been sure of my aim IT should have picked him off gs he squat- ted there, and, taking out the revolver, I showed it to him. “T_ will be dark to-night,” I said, unJ til the moon rises. If you stir I shall shoot.” “Ah! hat the deuce is the matther wid ye?’ he growled. “Shure, ‘twas meself stood up for ye beyant, whin they didn’t want ye to come on the raft, an’ you never puttin’ a hand to make it. Arrah! throw away that pis- til, It might go off an’ kill me!” “That's just what I mean it to’ do, Mr. Sweene: and when I called him that his whole expr jon changed. “Sweeney! And where did ye that name?” Iwas reckless now, and somehow I felt that I could kill him easier if my bleod were stirring more briskly, and so I went on: “Where did I get it? Why, from your foster-brother, Maurice. Where else? Ah! you're a poor tool, Jim Sweeney. You couldn't manage matters with the gentleman down there on the East Coast, and now that you've found your man out he nk you're left alone on a raft with that man’s son, and he means to kill you. To perdition with get you and your Ragged Thirteen!” I eried. “I know a about you. I heard every word at your meeting at Court- You f my father for me, and I've sent him warring that you're coming: but he won't want it, for, by the God above us, you'll never see him again With a wild ye'l he sprang up and shed straight at me. I waited till he close upon me before I pulled the shot fot od! He was so near that I could see the look of flend- ish joy upon his face, and he made so re of clutching me that, when I sud- ducked, his impetus carried him over me, and he fell into the sea. He came to the surface in a second and struck out for the raft and laid hold upon it; but stooping down, I beat at his fingers with the heavy end of the revolver, and when he let go for a second, I smote him with all my force and the blow, landing on his temple, stunned him, and his blood crimsoned the water around. And I beat and beat till I had smitten him past recog- nition, and at last I held him by one hand and so finished the business that when I let go he sank out of sight. Thus by my hand perished the man who was really the most merciless member of that merciless fraternity! For a while I was so mad with the triumph that I forgot everything else-— forgot that I had slain a man, consti: tuting» myself judge and jury; forgot that I was alone on the desolate ocean, and that as soon as the scanty store 1 had secreted was exhausted I must, un- less help came, go through the agonies of thirst and hunger, and that the end I had meted out to a fellow creature would be merciful in comparison to that to which I must come. Then, the look of agony on the man’s pale face as the blows rained upon him, came to haunt me, and, a breeze springing up as the sun set, I made shift to spread out my coat, andy so moved slowly away. Throughout that night and the next day, and the night that followed, I was upon the deep, and then in the morn- ing, rising up before me and right in the path in which the set of the tide was taking me, I could see the outlines of an island, and while the day was yet young I had drifted within a mile of it. As I drew nearer, my unweieldy craft gathered more way, and I saw that I was like to be carried past the land al- together; so, when I judged that I was | a8 near as the current would bring me { before it\swept me away to join some other current, I took to the water. I edged in, so as to swim with the least possible effort, and though I was taken past the outmost fringe of the island, I came into slack water, and seeing an opening in the reef, I made for it. Striking out more vigorously, I passed through, and just as I was al- most tired out I touched bottom, and wading in and stumbling over the beach, I threw myself down, utterly ex- hausted, on the greensward. But the pangs of thirst gave me no rest, and, looking around, I saw a white ribbon of spray falling from a high rock. So lofty was the point from which it descended that what had been a consiiderable volume of swiftly-roll- ing water became no more than a mist that swayed from side in the gentle breeze; so, hastening towards it, I lay on the moss-covered stones and sucked up the moisture with my parched lips. And here I was come to one of the Fiji islands—for such I deemed it to be from what the captain had said—nearly as naked as the day I was born, and, apparently, as far from helping my father as though I had stayed in Eng- Jand. And then I remembered that God had spared my life, and that while there is life there is hone, and for this one great.mercy I sank on the grass and thanked my Creator. m2 CHAPTER XII My Father Explains. Before I proceed any further with my narrative I must say that you will not find herein any notes concerning the fauna and flora of Fiji, and that except that I have seen them. I know very lit- tle more about them than you who are reading this. My story has to do with men and men’s passions, and the feel- ings that held me left me little room for observation of my surroundings ex- cept in so far as they might help to- wards my sustenance, and you must, therefore, imagine for yourselves, the trees, ferns, and so forth that made up the landscape on which I gazed. By the sea shore, and in comparatively shoal water, I found some shellfish, and from them I made a meal; coming upon a cave that was dry, I gathered grass and leaves and made a couch, and lay there until the next morning. Behind me was a ridge of hills, and, gaining the crest of this with some dif- ficulty, I had a splendid view of the island, and there, not a mile from me, lin a corner of a bay, lay a village. A roughly-constructed pier ran out into the sea for some distance, and I coula see people moving about on this, piling up bales of goods, and their occupation and the pier itself bespoke a state of civilization that promised both food and water. Pulling myeelf and the few rags that were left me together, I scrambled downwards through the thickets, and, getting close to the outskirts of the vil- lage, Tley perdu for some tims, till, the sighs of peace working upon me, 1 made a detour, and came close to the shore end of the pier before I was seen. Then there was such a hubbub that IT scarce knew whether the dark-skinned individuals who surrounded me were rejoicing at the prospect of eating me, or lamenting over the meager meal 4 should furnish, when a tall native, dressed in European fashion, the others aside and accosted me in ex- ceedingly good English. Not only were his words correct, but-his accent was as perfect as my own, and I afterwards learned that he had been educated at a first-class school in Tasmania. “You have been shipwrecked,” he said. “Tell me, in one word, was your ship the Corisande?” “No,” said I. “Thank God for that!” he rerl‘ed. “We could ill-efford to lose such men as Capt. Tremayne. But you are faint and tired. Come to my house, and we can talk presently.” And with that he led to what, after my hardships, seemed a veritable palace. He made me comfortable, and had meat and drink brouzht for me, and my heart beat fast when he told me that my father’s vessel was expected in a few days. “There isn’t a better man afloat than Capt. Tremayne. He calls here at stated times to take away our produce, such as cotton, fruit, and so forth, and bring us news of the big world.” It gave me the keenest pleasure to hear him singing my father’s praises, put I did not tel him who I was, as it would have been very embarrassing to | have gone into a long explanation; and so I let him regard me as one who was traveling for recreation, and who had lost his belongings when the Nightin- gale went down.. In this character I took up my quarters in his pleasant house, and he played the host so natur- ally, and, withal, so kindly, that my heart was drawn towards him, and be- | fore I had been a week on the island T told him that I had come from England simply and solely to see Capt. Tre- mayne. Some ten days had passed, and I was sleeping, in the cool of the evening, on the veranda that surrounded the house, when I was aroused by a commotion betokening that something of more than ordinary moment was about to happen, and I noticed that the inhab- itants of the village were hurrying to the pier. Joining them, I saw on the horizon the smoke of steamer, and T knew that in a few hours I should be looking on the features of him whom my soul hungered to see. Night came on quickly, and darkness had set in some time when we saw the lights of a vessel close to the headland, and in answer to the glare that went up from the huge bonfire the islanders had lighted, she threw up @ rocket. Everyone was so excited that my pres- ence was not noticed. And at last I got close to the man who had played host to my willing guest. “J want to speak to you for one min- ute,” I said. “I have come thousands of miles, as I told you, to see Capt. Tre- mayne, and tell him something that so nearly concerns him that anyone preventing my doing so will be putting him in danger of his life. Can you not contrive that I may see him, in your presence, and yours only, aS soon as possible?” He hesitated fora moment. / “Your reasons for seeing him must be urgent,” he said. “Tell me\who you are.” I felt I could trust this man. “My name is the same as his,” I said. “I am his only son, but I wish to meet him as a stranger. You will know why ' pushed .. when I have told him what I have to say.” He promised to do as I wished, and hurried off, for the steamer was close at hand. Yes! There he stood on the bridge, looking every inch a captain, and he handled his boat in a way that made me proud to think that I was flesh of his flesh. When she was_ securely moored the friendly Fijians flocked ou board, and he had a handkerchief for this one and a kindly greeting for that, until he walked apart with the head- man, and then I knew that he was b2- ing told that someone wished to speak with him. They stood talking earnestly for some. minutes, and then my father went be- low, and presently he came up leading aman by the hand. The man was dressed as a clergyman, and from the way in which he walked, and the curi- ous manner .in which he held his face up, I could see that h> was blind, and that his surroundings were strange to him was clear from the fact that he put his feet down warily and clung’ nerv- ously to my father’s arm. And I no- ticed, with some surprise that on my father’s sleeve, and close to where the blind man’s hand rested, was a band of crape. The light from the torches and lan- terns were so glaring that I could see the blind man’s profile as clearly as though it had been noontide, and I knew that the two men walking togeth- er there were the two men who, of all others, should have been kept asunder! I knew that onc2 again I was looking upon Maurice D’Orville! It was God's will and God’s way, and though doubt- less D'Orville thought that the Evil One, his master was ordering matters as he, his pupil, would have them, and though he was so close to the man whom he had come all these miles tog murder, I knew that he would not rais2 a hand against him yet. My father, D’Grville and the Fijian chief walked frcm the pier along the one street, while I followed at a discreet distance. To my delight, I saw the supposed clergyman led away to an- other part of the village than that in which my host lived, and, waiting un- til D’Orville was within doors, I fol- lowed my father, who had entered the house where I had been so hospitably entertained. “You wish to see me, sir?” said he, as I entered. “My friend, Mr. Manuel, will be back in a few minutes, so pleas? say what you have to say as speedily as possible,” and from the peculiar way in which he held his hand within the breast of his coat, I knew that he could have used his weapon, had the occasion arisen, in very quick time. All my heart went out to him. I could only utter one word. I stretched out my arms and cried “Father!”—ani the next moment he was kissing my face and gripping my hands, and sob- bing out, “Jack! Jack!” And there we stood, looking into each other’s eyes, jWwith hearts too full for words, and there we were standing when our host rushed in. “Capt. Tremayne!” he cried, “I can’t find the man who—” Aid then, seeing how matters stood, he was for withdrawing, but my father stopped him. “Come in, Manuel,” he said. ‘This is my son that was dead and is alive again. I have mourned for him. but he has come back to me. Blessed be the name of the Lord for this, H:s crowning mercy!” I was puzzled at his words then, as T had been by the badge of crape, but I was soon to learn the meaning of both. I was the first to recover from my <imo- tion. “Listen for one moment, father,” I said. “The man who came here with you and pretends to be blind, has come to kill you and me. He calls himself Maurice D’Orville, but his real name is Lennon.” “Maurice Lennon!” he cried. “Do you know what you are talking about, Jack?” “Yes; I know everything connected with the Ragged Thirteen,” I went on. hurriedly. “I know your danger; but before we begin to talk we must see that he is safe.” ry “Pardon me,” interrupted the Fijian, who had, up till now stood by in si- lence. “Pardon me, Capt. Tremayne, but you and your son have much to say to cach other. Who is this man of whom you are afraid?” “T am speaking of the man who came ashore leanirg on my father’s arm,” T said, ‘and pretending to be blind. He must not see me until we are ready to meet him.” “Good!” said he. “I'll see to that. Make yourselves comfortable, and I'll be back presently,” and with the ease and bearing of the perfect gentleman he was, he withdrew and left us alon>. “You were surprised,” I said, when I mentioned Maurice Lennon’s name. You couldn't have got my lett r, then?” “No, Jack. I never had any letter from you. When did you post it, and how did you dircet it?” When I told him I learned that this very letter must have been in the miil pag that was lost when one of the shore boats that had put off to the Cor- isande foundered. And, after this ex- planation, I told my story, with full de- tails, and heard my father’s, and the first thing he did was to meke clear te me the meaning of the words that had puzzled me, and the symbol of mourn- ing that he had torn from his sleeve. “T had a long letter, Jack, some time ago, giving me a minute description of your death, and telling me how you were found with the fatal cards beside you. It was written—so the signature told me—by a certain James Maguire, to whom you had been very kind, and he said you had lived long enough after you were struck down to tell him my address, which you had accidentally discovered, and then he drew such a graphic picture of your attempts to write to me that I could not but believe that the few words, of which I could only make out, ‘Dear father,’ came from you. But, thank God, you are here, Jack, and you have saved me. for this Maurice Lennon might have killed me over and over again, since I never recognized him.” We had finished our narrative when Manuel came back. (To Be Continued.) How It Works. Inquirer—Does a fish diet strengthen the brain? Replier—Perhaps not, but going fish- ing seems to invigorate the imagina- tion.—What to Eat. **T am so nervous and wretched.” fly.” How familiar these expressions are! “T feel as if I should Little things annoy you and make you irritable. You can’t sleep, you are unfit for ordinary duties, and are subject to dizziness. That bearing-down sensation helps to make you feel miserable. __, You have backache and pains low down in the side, pain in top of head, later on at the base of the brain. Such a condition points unerringly to serious uterine trouble. If you had written to Mrs. Pinkham when you first ex- perienced re vitality, you would have been spared awful suffering. these hours o' Happiness will be gone out of your life forever, my sister, unless you act promptly. Procure Lydia E. Pinkham’s Vegetable Compound at once. Then write to Mrs. Pinkham, at Lynn, Mass., if help you. It is absolutely sure to there is anything about your case you do not understand. You need not be afraid to tell her the things ou could not explain to the doctor—your letter is seen only by women and is absolutely confidential. Mrs. Pinkham’s vast experi- ence with such troubles enables her to tell you just what is best for you, and she will charge you nothing for her advice.. Mrs. Valentine Tells of Happy Results Accomplished by Lydia E. Pinkham’s Vegetable Compound. “Dear Mrs. Prvxaam :—It is with pleasure that Tadd my testimony to your list, hoping it may induce others to avail themselves of the benefit of your val- uable remedy. Before taking Lydia E. Pink- ham’s Vegetable Compound, I felt very bad, was terribly nervous and tired, had sick headaches, no appetite, gnawing pain in stomach, pain in my back and right side, and go weak I could scarcely stand. «I was not able todo anything. Had sharp pains all through my body. Before I had taken half a bottle of your medicine, I found myself improv- ing. I continued its use until I had taken four bottles, and felt so well that I did not need to take an) more. Iam like a new person, and yoir medicine shall always have my praise.”—Mrs. W. P. VALENTINE, 566 Ferry Avenue, Camden, N. J. REWARD deposited with the National City Bank, of L; which will be paid to any persoa ari cas testimonial is not genuine, or was published before obtaining the writer’s special permission.—Lyp1a EK, PINKHAM MEDICINE Co. ‘9000 MRSW.P.VALENTINE, Owing to the fact that some skeptical people have from time to time questioned the genuizeness of the testimonial letters are constantly publishing, we have in, Mass.. $5,000, ow that the above PATENTS. List of Patents Issucd Last Week to Northwestern Inventors. Louis G. Clark, Helena, Mont., dust guard for car windows; Luther C. Farmer, Minneapolis, Minn., kettle. or dish cleaner; Andrew Olson, Minneap- dlis, Minn., display rack for pizce goods; George W. Ridler, Minneapolis, Minn., flue cutter; Charles Skone, Minneapo- lis, Minn., dumping box for wagons. Lothrop & Johnson. patent attorneys, 911 & ¥12 Pioneer Press Bldg.. St. Paul, Minn Quicker Than Thought. A little boy, hearing some one re- mark that nothing was quicker than thought, said he knew better than that; whistling was quicker than thought. Being asked to explain, he said: “In school, the other day, I whistled before I thought and got a licking for it.”—Evangelist. Uncle Sam Aims to buy the best of everything which is why he uses Carter's Ink. He knows what's good. A chameleon, when blindfolded, loses the power to change its hues, and the entire body remains of a uniform color. Piso's Cure is the best medicine we ever used for all affections of the throat and lungs.—W. O. ExpsuBY, Vanburen. Ind., Feb. 10. 1900. Never violate a faith, desert a friend or leave a woman in an ill humor, laye: Golt players; all play- Baseball ‘hite’s Yucatan whilst playing. ers chew woman or child can have fits in this place,”” LAURER ‘SRT, Meat smoked in s few hours with KRAUSERS’ LIQUID EXTRACT OF SMOKE, Made from hickory wood. Delicious fis Cleaner, caeaper. No sm hoses Beeded. pnd for elroulas, ‘Bai { ‘we will iaail you 8 valuable 96-page book free. Address X 4 ABSOLUTE _ SECURITY, Carter’s Little Liver Pills. Must Bear Signature of CURE SICK HEADACHE. IN 3 OR 4 YEARS INDEPENDENCE ASSURED Illustrated pamphlets, ving ences of farmers W! By J Reliable Incubator & Brooder Co., Quincy, Il. )-| Insuranee Bldg.. Milwaukee. Wis. VP wwvvwevovvevevTeVveTe: N. W. N. U. No. 6. worse HIDES 1901. Bere ee a¥sa1e-az0 Main st. home. Ship Hides, tous. Highest market price and prompt cash returns Farmers should ship hides to us direct, as alize 50 cents to $2.00 more by selling tou de yee Felts, Fars, Wool Tent \ F