The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, September 13, 1903, Page 5

THE SUNDAY CALL. HILE the bdrig Daisy, Captain Jo- siah Barnes, mas- ter, lay at Port Au Prince, Ban Do- mingo, & red-headed girl ca aboard 10 secure passage to Boston. She had €°ne to the island from Salem tWo years before with an Ameri- erness, but had be- crew num- elso taken as ered seven men two passengers sea captains, w wrecked Is 1t it the captains of- stateroom to the red-headed girl and sleep in the main cab- n & sheke-down she could not have taken passage by the Indeed, it was & close shave at bes s, Barnes, who was fat, -faced, looked he r husband “Josiah and ° that she's red-headed, mes that she's giddy and sassy.” “Yes, she's got red hair,” replied the captal ut I don't see nothin’' giddy about her. Bhe looks as sober as any #ul with any colored hair, and that sage money will come in handy for u probably be seasick clear up to Light and not eat $2 worth of we'll take her,” sald Mrs & doubtful shake of the see If it don’t result In TEpout or calamity of some aded girls are born to make A day later the Daisy weighed anchor and set out on her return voyege, and the the red-headed girl as she ved about weas so demure that the cap- tain almost felt like pat er on the head end speak! sympathy and ® o'cl passer et t erly OB 2L stateroom and offer her services, but at the same time she was secretly glad to find the red-headed girl in her berth and apparently suffering the pangs of sea- sickness, Something like a surprise party walited the dame when supper time came round. She was thinking of making a cup of tea With her own hands and adding & slice of dry toast when the red-headed girl sud- denly appeared in the cabin fully dressed and looking as pert and saucy as if the old brig rested in a cornfield instead of climbing up and down watery hills of ex- ceeding steepnes; “La, but haven't you been seasick!" exclaimed the captain’s wife, after a long stare, “Of eourse not,” was the “And you ain't going to be “I hope not. Where are the gentlemen? They must have missed me. I'm so glad I'm the only girl aboard, as I will have them all to myself. Do you know If both captains are married men?’ g : am, I know that they are, and her of at least ‘leven Barnes, with great . being determined to sh the red-headed girl at the very outset. “Well, they can flirt with me for a few days, just the same,” sald the girl, as she surveyed herself in the cracked mirror hanging over the table. eply. At supper th headed girl made herself y “at home.” She lsughed and chatted and made eyes, and Mrs. Barnes could not help but see that her own captain, as well as the two others were more than interested. She grew red in the face and her blood bolled and as =oon as the meal was finished and the girl had gone on deck, escorted by the two other captains, she drew before her liege lord with folded arm :d demanded: “Jostah Barnes, of Providence, what did 1f ns “I dunno,” he absently replied “Don’t lle to me, sir! I told you that red-headed girl 1 impudent come true. minx, ‘em m and s, that girl alm blushed has got to stop or she’ll get a plece of my mind that will make her red hair curl. I won't stand by and see no such chit make fools of three or four men who ought to know better.” The captain’s advice was for her to go slow, and he was glad t8 get on deck and out of reach of her tongue. That was the beginning of things. That night the red- headed girl walked the deck with a cape tain on each side of her. The next the “minx” got a plece of Mrs. Barnes' mind. It was a liberal plece and ought to have brought her to her knees, but it didn’t. On the contrary, after she got falrly started, the red-head= ed girl got off three words to the other's one and read her a long and severe lece ture on minding her own business, In cture were included a few observa- teeth and gray hairs, and 3 le was over it was the mothe erly Mre. Barnes who didn’t know where she was at. She tried to get even by calle ing her husband into the cabin and tell- ing him what was what, and that she’d ta good cs to see that everybody in Providence heard of it. The Daisy salled on- and on, and the flirtations went .on and on, and as the brig crept up the coast Mrs. Barnes “felt it in her bones” that Boston would never be reached. The red-headed girl had brought disorganization from cabin to bowsprit and almost taken command. “You jest wait, Josiah Barnes—you jest wait for Cape Cod,” the captain's wife grimly repeated a dozen times a day, and “ape Cod was finally reached. Then a gale sprang up, the big brig lost her foremast, and though tha red-headed girl sought her statercom and the crew left free to battle with the storm aft was driven ashore and became a wreck, Crew and passengers were and in due time Captain Barnes ap- e office of the owners In Bos- how it all happened. He was list to until he had finished, and then the head of the firm handed him a letter that had been received the day before. It s from Martha, and it read: I want to report that the Daisy is n Cape Cod and a total wreck, nt to report that a red-headed and a lot of fool-men are the cause was FACE IN THE CROWD. By Heith Gordon. — McClure.) while she ok for him e train stopp third street cheeks y away er some m the wel- in her eyes as she returne brown hair 1 head. After this he, tch of a morning. A to w easily formed! he disappeared. The y what had become dered anxio & he gone abroad? Maybe he g dead! At the thought she nk like one hurt, for he had become, in & whimsical way, & part of her life. He had become as near and dear as only did appear one morning, tow- e a crowd of lesser men like a was a new gravity In his face her attention even before she in mourning. t these weeks of ab- meant! Sickness and 3 His wiie undoubt- rrow and oppression that The guick sympathy that she her soft, wide eyes as they fiy upon his face. And he, reading that look, felt a curfous thrill ng since he had begun to regard her th a.sort of tacit, silent friendshi +The little girl with her soul in her face. &s he onee described her to a friend, shak- ing his b deprecatingly at the thought of a woman like her having to wrestle the world. She seemed to him too wuisite for the ups and downs of such watched her surreptitiously mnow, dering 1dly who she was and whether he should ever meet her. There was & —be might follow her and bestow a on the elevator boy and the thing be done. But the coarseness of euch methods repelled him. She seemed the mort of a woman who would resent that kind of thing. Moreover, in his heart of hearts, and in ppite of his bigness end worldliness, he was & fatalist, If it were written from the begi x it would occur! could dabble in the affairs of fate! It was nearing the end of the third took the same train now wit which made h » were never so u er suspicious. unknown e ever moved s Stoughton—who In this par- was the Instrument of fate one morning with an 3 it imperative yearning rs earller an eq he proceedes railroad facil f their meeting s roved with Presently he as he did so passed between the two. ston—a cousin of mine, you kr explained to Renwick. “Tough luck they've had, I tell you. But she's a pit girl. Bhe has earned her now for fou owr years T'll take yi a will be glad »f mine.” e old fellow, thank you.” Renwick paused awkwardly. He seemed to have something else to say, but scarce- y knew how to say it. “When sald—asked you to introduce me—1I ¢ mean 1 I'm u to de thing queer, d ¢ withou too many c Stou ‘If I didn’t know thag grain of romance in you I 1 y think o w, think—there’s a good fel- soothed Renwick. “Just follow In- ctions. Tell Miss Alston all about me i mind that you teil her everything i that you can or I'll wring your neck and make an appointment for me to Don’t make any mistake. I want to see her, and see her alone. I don’t want you there!” When poor, mystified Bill Stoughton broached the subject to Natica her be- havior was doubly mysterious. No, she didn't want to know anything about him! Then a moment later: “Did you say he is a bachelor?” (Inn cently). “I thought he was a widower!" yughton, indjgnantly: “I thought you knew nothing about him “I don’t; but he wore mourning.” “That was for his mother.” o a.p In the dim little parlor of the small apartment where she and her mother lived they met for the first time alone save for the dead and gone Alstons that looked down upon them from the walls. Surely never was such a first meeting be- fore. When the maid ushered him in Natica, looking rather more like a lily than usual in her long, soft hlack gown, rose with every intentlon of greeting him in the most formal manner. Then a most un- looked for thing occurred. For a moment they looked into each other’s eyes. Then he stretched out his hands toward her and she placed hers in them. A moment later she was swept up into his arms as if she had been a child, as he murmured softly, “My dear, dear love. ““What shall we tell mamma?” walled Natica in despalr a half-hour later. “How can we ever explain ourselves?” ‘“We can't,” replied Renwick, comfort- ebly. ‘“We might just as well resign our- selves to being thought mad! It all comes from the ridiculous superstition that in order to know people you must talk to them!"” And then—well, they then forgot the world and its opinions to talk of far love- lier things. HE was so decidedly petite that even when she drew her figure to its greatest height the assumption of dignity was laughable. But her eyes sparkled danger- = ously as she faced the bellboy. The bellboy was impressed. He eyed the door as If meditating escape be- fore she proceeded to stronger methods. “Now, see here,” she exclalmed bellig- erently, “this is the third note I have written to the office, and I want a reply this time.” “If you would go down to the desk,” the bellboy insinuated apologetically, “Mr, Parker—" “No, 1 will not go down to the desk,” Miss Halloway interrupted decidedly. “That head cierk Parker, or whatever name he answers to, shall come up here or I will know the reason why.” The bellboy departed promptly. “And by the way,” she called after him, “just hustle elong some telegraph blanks on + LA PETITE your way back. I have a few things to say to my father and some of his friends concerning the lack of accommodations at- the Great Eastern.” *'Oh, Belle, Belle,” wailed Mrs. Hallo- way, whose ample form had collapsed in one corner of a red plush sofa, “how can you maxe such a disturbance? Now, if your fathe: was only here—but the two of us alone, without a protector!” and she rolled her eyes distractedly. “Protector, fiddlesticks!” said the ener- getic Miss Halloway. “Have you no spirit, mother?”’ She began to pace the floor ex- citedly. ‘“Would you be treated as a no- ‘body—you, the wife of Thomas P, Hallo- way! Consider your position.” Mrs. Halloway doubtless considered her position—she was absolutely at the mercy of her daughter's scathing tongue. There- fore she maintained a discreet silence. “They must be taught the deference due to us, the Halloways, of Chicago,” said the girl. She was very young and possessed of the follles as well as the graces of youth. The bellboy now reappeared, holding out & handful of telegraph blanks like a g TERMAGANT S L S Y THE CREW K45 LEFT FRFE T0 BATTLE L7777 THHF STORM yollow flag of truce. ‘““Mr. Parker,” he averred, “he says—he's coming.” Miss Halloway seized upon the blanks and flung herself into a chair beside the writing table. “There will probably be ample time to get off the telegrams be- 2ore he comes. Things don’t quickstep at the Great Eastern.” “But, Belle,” Mrs. Halloway protested, after the bellboy had closed the door in reverential fashion, “had you not better sli,) on another waist Mr. Parker—" “Mr. Plrklr,"-’h.u' mhot:l“:x lnltmud su) iously, - erk, & ser- v.::.rdl This dressing sack is good enough for him.” She dashed off a telegram and read it aloud reflectively: “Dear Dad, we are being shamefully treated at the Great Eastern. If things are not remedied we will change to the Grand to-night. But don't worry. I am running this affalr and you can bet on me, *‘Arabella loway."" “I think that will make things hot for the Great Eastern,” she said triumph- antly. She did not hear the knock at the door, mnor its nolseless opening. Her mother’s voice startled her: ‘‘Belle, here is Mr. Parker, but remember—'" Mrs. Halloway's voice trailed off into & deprecating silence. Miss y straightened up in her chair with the laudable pride of a judge about to confer sentence, “Mr, Parker,” she sald impressively, “I have called you here to complain of the treatment to which we have been sub- jected by this hotel.” BShe began delib- erately enough, but the words soon tumbled over each other in her vehe- mence. “How dare you,” she cried, “how dare you put us into this stuffy back room, an eight dollar a day room, when Two Full Pages of Fascinating Half-Hour Storiettes. we have always been accustomed to an eighteen dollar suite? Do you knmow who ‘we are—the Halloways of Chicago? Is not our money good, or better, than other people’s?” The clerk remained silent. And now for the first time Miss Holloway looked up—far up—and encountered the serene gaze of his brown eyes, Mr, Parker, the clerk, was tall—-unusu- ally tall. But it was not merely his inches which gave authority of bearing—it was his self-confidence, his mental poise. In- tuitively Miss Halloway of Chicago real- ized that here was a man who would al- ways be the master of circumstances no matter how adversé the contrivings of fate. Her judicial complacency vanished, and shame, hot-cheeked and deflant, stood as & culprit at the bar. For a twinkle lurked In the cool depths of the brown eyes as he said easily: “I can agree with you, Miss Halloway of Chicago—but only in part. Your mon- ey is as good as that of other people—but no better. At the Great Eastern first come must be first served, and that with & half bow, “is why we have been forced to give this room to—Miss Hallo- way of Chicago. His tone was courteous, but the girl felt the sting of underlying reproof. It was a new experlence for her. All her twenty years had not discovered a person who should dare to cross her. The great T. P. Halloway himself lacked the neces- sary courage. Or, rather, he openly en- couraged her willfulness as a reincarna- tlon of his own Indomitable spirit. As for Mrs. Halloway, she was always a minus quantity on such occasions as demanded firmness. She preferred to be comfort- ably seated and wring her hands—gently. Tears came easily, and in no wise inter- fered with her heart action or gradual increase of avoirdupols. Now she looked entreatingly at her daughter and murmured, “Oh, Belle, don’t, don’t!"” Miss Halloway did not hear. Her world seemed falling about her ears. For the g4 By Mary Wood + — first time the shameful helplessness of her sex overcame her. But woman's wit came to her ald. Her lips trembled pite- ously and two large tears ran down her checks. This was a new method of warfare. The reaoubtable Mr. Parker stood aghast Tken, as became a prudent general, threw out scout lines “Really, Miss Halloway,” he sald sooth- ingly, “the whole thing is a trifle which we have foolishly exmggerated. In the morning you will laugh at your fancled grievances.” But still the girl's head was hidden in her folded arms and her shoulders heaved. Mrs. Halloway sobbed, swaying comfortably back and forth. “If your father were only here,” she walled “Don’t cry, Miss Halloway plored, “please don't. I t haps I can arrange the sonal friend of mine has o Perhaps, for you—yes, I arrange It.” “On your word of hor Halloway of Chicago, “On my word of honor, recklessly, The girl lifted he: She had not been cr stop your crying now, moth cheerfully, “it is all over turned to the astonished Mr. Parker and =xtended her hand frankly. * you have acceded to my said sweetly, “let me apol ing asked In—well—rather peremptory fashion. It is a way I bave, unfortunate ly. Of course, your promise holds gocd?" “Of course,” replied Mr. Parker a tri- fle stifly. He could not avoid taking her outstretched hand. “Of course,” he re- peated more heartily, as some mesmerio influence radiated from her finger tips to his. There was added respect as weil as admiration in the brown eyes. He rec- ognized her powers as a strategist. Miss Halloway laughed. “I wom, but I would not have if you had not been— & gentleman. Mamma and I are very pleased to meet you—even In this informal fashion.” Mrs. Halloway beamed upon them. Peace and harmony were essential in her scheme of things. And peace and harmony—and Mr. Par. ker—attended her and her dauxhter for the next few weeks. Mrs. Halloway beamed, Miss Halloway was radiant, Mr. Parker was assiduous. So assiduous, In fact, that Thomas P. Halloway, on his advent on the scens, felt called upon to interfere. He did not hesitate, but Mr. Parker spoke first. It is & way youth has. And he did not mince matters. He struck stralght from the shoulder. “Mr. Halloway, I love your daughter, she loves me. We are going to be mar- ried. Have we your approval?™ “The devil!” ejaculated the astounded T. P. Halloway. “Why you're nothing but a hotel clerk. My daughter~" Words falled him. Mr. Parker was quite unmoved. “She does not object,” he sald easily. “Some day I shall own this hotel, then you will not object.” T. P. Halloway glared at him. “T will,” he snorted. “And the sooner you take yourseif off the better it will be.” “There is Belle to be considered,” Mr. Parker insinuated gently. “She usually has her own way.” T. P. Halloway weakened visibly, *Yes, she usually does,” he repeated more calmly. And the matter of her marriage proved - no exception to the rule. She did. And that Is how Miss Halloway of became Mrs. Parker of New York