The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, March 4, 1900, Page 4

THE 'SUNDAY 'CALL. HERMANN, si aside to allow the stranger ved a 1 then sat down sgrave are Brazilian will have 1able services or mine.” s regards the company. and talk things over. e at Musgrave. few thousand pounds “I wan: That's he sharp inquiry that you won't divulge and I'J| you can trust me.” hand and held it firmly. oath that you won't repeat a one.” Then here’s the trick. I'm going to bluff iters. I've paid them thousands, and it's n a call 'on them.” ed back and moved uneasily. t be-afraid: it's not a scuttling job. We n ‘that,” said Musgrave, reading the the impatient rejoinder. one of the company’s boats at our own »se we take one of the best, fill her up with get or with -rubbish: insure the ship ani top sum, and let her go and play chameleon vou want to send me to penal servitude?” n coolly n't you see the play. Twenty-four hours beco: some other boat. You paint her ¢ her name of some boat she’s like. AT EAtH 81DE oF THE BOW, IN LARGE YELLOW LETTERS $TO0D OUT THE NAME COF ICILIAN e boat—the an get. The gone—at least nd T mus and look t you get 1 be > the good. That'll at the fireback. ple, but he £0. and the paper 1ave to be got rid of as done above board. grave, disappointed as au There T'he c and the crew would “Won't it He “Why not?” were the n shook “What about the cargo and the papers and the men?" 1 the captain see to the pap eargo, you'd put out would have to keep the got rid of the boat,” said n thought aga ould a boat fe ter a long think “Morc than the cost of the venture.” “And how much would you make out of the insur- h at Calcutta or Rombay?" Can’t tell: perhaps thirty thousand; perhaps more.” d would you be willing to make it an equal share we would divide equally.” * .uhmlu ;Ivct'mgn:\ boat?” ‘I can work that. he company will be gl. Loat off their hands.” e R s Hermann took a sip at his whisky and then thought for a minute. Pay all costs and guarantee me £2000 e g goes and I'll go in with, you,” he said y Musgrave asked with a disappointed amr. “Because I take the risi done.” “Tut! nonsense!” “Ruined, ruined! Nothing but penal servitude for it,” the captain said emphatically. They -talked for ten minutes more and then Mus- grave yielded. The captain agreed to join him in the venture on the understanding that he was to have half of the net profits, or £2000, whichever sum might be the greater. He was to command such steamer as could be got and jointly with Musgrave was to exploit the un- derwriters. The cool effrontery of the project made it the more lighter and more attractive to him. He parted from Musgrave in a lighter and more hopeful mood than he had known for many a day. Musgrave bought the North Brazilian Company’s steamer Madeline at a price which some of the share- holders of the company correctly described as “little more than the price of old iron.”” But as the company had been working at a ruinous loss and was retiring Henry Musgrave, its old manager. to make way for a liquidator. and as the Madeline and two other steamers were swallowing up the little remaining capital of the company, the directors were glad of an opportunity of If the thing fails I'm lightening their burdens by disposing of one of the steamers. And to take the grace of a virtue out of what was almost a necessity, some of the shareholders viewed their retiring manager with condescension and said: “Give him a chance; et him have the boat to see what he can do for himself.” So Musgrave got the Madeline, a handy, modern boat of over 2500 tons, named after his only daughter as a compliment to him five years before. Musgrave collected enough cargo to give a look of genuine freight and business to the boat while she was loading, and Captain Herm helped to make draught by taking all of the er he safely could into con- venient parts of her. cept for appearance, on insur- ance account, they wanted no cargo. Every ton put on board was an incumbrance and added to the risks of the unde: ng. When Madeline steamed casily down the Thames, bound nominally for Rio Ianeiro, she had every appear- ance of being as well found and honest a trading steamer as ever carried a house flag. But the piece of deep Llue bunting bearing the large yellow M which fluttered at her maiy truck and her freshly painted fun- nel with a deep black band, top and bottom, and stone- colored hody, bearing a clear and evasive letter M on each side—standing for Madeline or Musgrave—were uew and caused many a speculation as to whose the steamer might be. Hermann knew his business as well as any man who ever paced a steamer's bridge, and knew just as well how to get any work connected with his steamer done by the time and in the way he wanted. When therefore the Madeline had been days out she had become another craft. MHer funnel was dark blue with a single black band at the top. Her hull was glossy black with a good breadth of biight salmon pink curving away above the water line. At each side of the bow, in large yel- low letters stood out the name of Sicilian and on the sweep of the stern were neatly picked out the words, Sicilian, London. “Wonder if Musgrave would know us if he came alongside now,” chuckled Hermann to his second of- ficer as they stood on the bridge watching a couple of men who were painting the forward winch. Instead of steaming west for Rio the Sicilian took a southerly course. Crossing the line she worked down southward, past Ascension and St. Helena, and then bent southeast for the Cape of Good Hope. In another ten days she was well round the Cape on a straight N. E. by E. course across the Indian Ocean. The Sicilian was never meant to go within a couple of thousand miles of Rio on that trip. Musgrave had made up such papers as Hermann would require and had given them to him with letters of consignment to two Colombo agencies. The Sicilian was steered to Colombo and the cargo landed on consignment for the new British Trading Company of London. to await the arrival of an agent who was said to be following by the first mail steamer. Picking up what cargo he could find that he might show a clean face in port and make a few extra pounds on: his own account, Hermann put the Sicilian on a northwesterly course under full steam for Bombay. Dick Fairburn, first officer of the Leonidas, stood on the end of the bundar at Bombay, talking with Joe Gregory, captain of the Andromache, and Charlie Dan- son, chief engineer of the Burman. Their steamers happened to be in port together and Dick and Joe, two old chums of Uppingham school, had met for the first time for six years. They had spent a day together on shore, had.fallen in with Charlie during the afterncon and had been taking a few turns on the bundar before parfing for the night. Suddenly Dick became silent and looked intently at a steamer with a blue funnel and black smokestack lying out in the harbor. “What's up, Dick?” said Joe Gregory, seeing that something had taken his old comrade’s attention. g “I'd bet six months’ pay that that's my old ship,” said Dick, pointing to the steamer. “That’s the Sicilian, a London boat; I saw her name a3 we came ashore,” said Gregory. “It’s the Madeline ii the Madeline’s afloat. to know her,” Dick said dogmatically. “Well, what does it matter?” . Dick turned to Gregory with a queer, sheepish smile which changed in an instant to a look of furious wrath. “What in heaven's name’s up, Dick?” said Gregory, struck by the change which had come over his old mate. The look of anger melted and the 1dok oi sheepish confusion came back to the face of Dick Fairburn. He stood like some schocl boy who had been the victim of a mean trick and knew it. “Queer that we should meet here at Bombay, Joe, after so long and this thing crop up,” he said with feeling. “You'll say I'm a fool, but I don’t mind telling you,” he added as he stopped and looked down at his boots. “Go on, man,"” said Gregory, impatient. Dick looked up again. He was red as the setting sun on a wild March day. “Five years ago,” he began unsteadily, “I joined that boat as ‘second.” She belonged to a new company, the North Brazilian Shipping Company. The manager was named Henry Musgrave. He used often to come on the boat and would bring his wife and daughter and others to see her. Once he went with us to Montevideo and took his.daughter. I was ‘first’ then. She was the jolliest girl T ever met. She was interested in every- thing about the ship and I had to tell her all about the compasses and the navigation. And, by heaven, before we got back to London—they came back with us—that girl was dead gone on me—" “And you?” interrupted Gregory. “Was deader gone on her. 'Pon my life, I couldn’t help it. Joe; she was such a merry lass, you would have fallen in love with her yourself.” “What was her name?”’ “Madeline-—Madeline Musgrave. The ship was called after her.” “Why didn't you marry her?” asked Gregory, laugh- I ought ing. Dick: frowned. “Maybe I will yet. Her father said I wasn't good enough for her. It was through that I left the ship.” “Did she care for you?” asked Charlie Danson, his eyes twinkling with the fun of the thing. “Aye, as much as any girl ever did for-a fellow.” “Then I'd marry her,” said Charlie, decisively. “That's the Madeline, I'll swear,” said Dick, looking again at the steamer with the blue funnel. . “You're wrong,” said Charlie. “That's the Sicilian sure enough, and I'd nearly bet a month’s pay she was Charnley's Jungfrau four years ago. I know her bow and deck lines forward.” “I’ll bet you five sovereigns that-a year ago: that boat was the Madeline. Will you take it?” said Dick, eagerly. “I will,” replied Charlic, laughing. “Done.” “We'll soon settle that. "Here's one of her boats,” said Joe, bfiskly: A newly painted captain’s gig beéaring the name Sici- lian was coming to the landing. In a minute Captain Paul Hermann stepped ashore. “Captain, what steamer is that?” said Gregory to Her- mann. “Sicilian of London.” “Wasn't she the Madeline? Hermann staggered, but only for an instant. “Nbo, she wasn't. She’s the Sicilian.” * “Before you had her she was the Madeline,” said Dick Fairburn, coolly. “Then you know a d—— sight more about her than I do and I'm her captain. ' I say she’s the Sicilian. - If you don’t believe it take that boat and knock your head against her bows and open your eyes and see,” growled Hermann “By heaven, I will. Come on, Joe; come on, Charlie, T'll prove it in five minutes,” said Dick Fairburn, step- ping lightly into Hermann's gig. Joe Gregory whispered to Paul Hermann that the other two had a bet on as to the identity of the steamer, adding, “We'll take your offer, captain, and row round her bows. Seeing will be believing. -We'll make it all right over a glass and a pipe on the old Dromache yonder, if you'll come aboard to-morrow night.” “Here! row these fellows to the devil!” snapped Her- man to the crew of the gig. Charlie Danson and Joe Gregory stepped into the boat and she was pushed off. The four oars dipped and she shot quietly through the still water. Hermann stood on the quay red with rage.. He would have hailed the boat and brought her back, but somte- how he dared not. One of the three strangers who had gone in her was evicently a captain, and the other two were officers. It worlé have looked bad to bring the boat back. And one of the three was suspicious as it was. Reproaching himself for his folly in telling this man to go in his own boat and see the ship, he walked to and fro along the quay, a strange feeling of impend- ing mischief creeping over him “There you are,” said Charlie Danson as the boat shot up to the bow of the steamer. “S-i-c-i-l-i-an! Isn't that plain enough?” “No,” answered Dick Fairburn, daggedly. “Oh, well, if that isn’t good enough I give in. more can you have?”’ “I'll show you. Pull to the ladder, boys,” said Dick, authoritatively. The boat's head was turned, and a couple of strokes put her alongside of the ladder “Come on!” said Dick, grasping the ladder and mounting quickly. In half a minute Dick Fairburn stood on: the deck of the Sicilian. In less than a minute more Joe Gregory and Charlie Danson stood beside him. The deckhands came around, looked at the strange officers and ex- changed glances. “It's all right, men.. Your captain sent us aboard: we're making a survey,” said Dick Fairburn to the men, who steod wishing for an order to pitch the intruders overbeard. “Come on, captain, and you, Mr. Dansen; this way.” Dick Fairburn walked toward the midship deckhouse, the other two and some of the ship’s hands following. Entering the starboard alleyway, he walked on until he reached the fourth door on the port hand. There was a little plate bearing the words “First. Officer” over the door. Dick grasped the handle, turned it and gave a push. The door opened inward. A coat hung from a rail and other articles lay about. Across the narrow end of the room there was a short seat. * Dick Fairburn entered the room and walked to the seat and sat down. Joe Gregory and Charlie Danson followed him in. “For nearly three years this was my room,” said Dick, “When I got sweet on Madeline Musgrave I thought I would like to have her name before me when I Was sit- ting in here. So I did this: see.” He stepped to the other end of the room and placed one hand upon each edge of a raised panel on the space by the door. With a light upward jerk the panel came away in his hands. On the woodwork which the panel had covered was carved the word “Madeline” in clear but quaint letters. “There! .I carved that when I was first officer of this ship, the Madeline, nearly four years ago. “If that isn't proof you can take the sovereigns, Charlie;” said Dick, replacing the panel on the little- ¢concealed hook which supported it and hid the revered name from an idle gaze. Dick led the way from the room, pushed through the men who now thronged the alleyway, and made for the ladder. The boat was stilt alongside. “Come on, let us get ashore,” he said, turning to Gregory and Danson, who were behind him. In five minutes they were being rowed to.the quay. What Continued on Page . ENOUS M 'CARGQ WAY COLLECTED TO GVEALDDK, OF VENUINE FREISHT AND BUSINESS