The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, July 17, 1904, Page 6

THE SAN FRANCISCO SUNDAY CALL. S. 8. McClure Co.) JONES, C. L rissioner of Bu 1 Jones, captain ' steamer Newcastle his brother. More than th as two t that he But each the Irawadi and the New- had not se r the r of did ne e if many more aw him. Their He w not to rene , galloping by on at the anin Are you coming to captain; for he ea of going to a ated,” e as up a gap between muttered Larry; “but get over it. Must have rebody else. te Larry was busy 1ed at the image of a carriage just in was tufning out 1 and blocked the road, 1 driver was forced to ognized the other man. 1, his twin brother. tion was mutual. The bowed quite coidly as In called out, “How are you, age oner Ther ! g Waler horses whipped the carriage down the road at a slash- ing ga y've been taking " he mused. “They Lemuel. Great time g these yellow nig- I'd like to be in his to see how it feels he must hav here. All the way back to the hotel he was ¥ sbout it. Arrived there, he note addressed to the chief oner and sent it off by a na- at will bring him,” he mut- e always was a bit afrald of It was six o'clock when Sir Lemuel arrived in carriage. There was a great scurrying about of servants and no end of salaaming the “Lat Sahib”; for it was not often the chief commis- sioner honored the hotel with his pres- ence. He was shown to Captain Jones’ room “Take a seat, Lem,” sald Captain Larry, cheerfully. “I wanted to see you and thought you'd rather come here than receive me at Government House.” “P'2zse be brief, then,” said Sir Lem- uwel, in his most dignified manner; “I have to attend a dinner at the club to- night in honor of the return of our judicial commissioner.” “Oh, Sir Lemuel will be there in time for that,” chuckled the captain. “But first, Lem, for the sake of old times, 1 want you to drink a glass of wine with me. You know we took a drink together pretty often the first year of our existence.” Then he broke out into @ loud sallor laugh that irritated the Commissioner, “While I can’t approve of drinking to the extent you have carried it,” saia Sir Lemuel, with judicial severity, “still T can't refuse a glass proffered by my brother.” “Your twin brether,” broke in Larry, “of whom you've always been so fond, you know.” “I really mus. be going, so please tell me why you've sent for me.” Byt when he had drunk the glass of wine he gave up all idea of going any- wher~—for it was drugged. Then Captain Larry ‘stripped his brother, peeled the sugust body of the commissioner as one would strip a willow, and draped him in his own sailor outfit. “You're & groggy-look- ing captain,” he sald, as he tried to brace the figure.up In & big chals’ THE sE ALARGE “youre a disgrace 1o the service; you'll have your papers taken away, the first thing you know."” When he had arrayed himself in the purple and fine linen of the commis- sioner he emptied the contents of the bottle of wine through the window. 'k he went below and spoke to the “The captain upstairs, an important communication ke to me, has become suddenly completely intoxicated. Never a man get drunk so quickly in my Can have him sent off to so that he won’t get in dis- s my express wish that this you > done, as he has been of me.” ight, sir,” exclaimed the ho- e per, touching his forehead with his forefinger in salute, “I will get tain Davin, who is a great his, to take him off right considerate man, the Chief * remarked the boniface, lled away. ge swung in under a shed- t the front of a big strag- The driver pulled up two yaktail-bearing nped down from a the carriage road, ran hastily up, oor and lowering the T'he Presence, r the Lat Sahib, ther of all Burr 5. ! there's the log,” ex- he captain, 1 g at the big visitors’ book in the entranc “Wonder where I've got to sign that? The ship m r big crew,” as he ran his eyes down the Jong list of name “When does The Presence want the ca ze?” asked a ponderous, much- liveried native servant, making a deep salaam. The captain pulled out his watch—Sir Lemuel's watch. “It's a beauty,” he mused, as his eyes fell on its rich yel- low sides tight away, mate—I mean bos’n—that is, tell him not to go away. Wonder what that fellow’s proper title is on the muster?’ Al to dine at the club to- night, Lemuel,” a cheery English voice said, as a young man came out of a room on the right. “I know that,” angrily answered y. “I don’t have to be told my you're “Certainly, Sir Lemuel; but you asked me to jog your memory, as you are apt to forget these things, you know. “Quite right, quite right,” answered the captain. “If you catch me forget- ing anything else, just hold out a sig: n —that is, tip me the wink, will you “We've had a telegram from Lady Jones, Sir Lemuel—"" The cold perspiration stood out on the captain’s forehead. This was something he had forgotten all about. A bachelor himself, it had never occurred to him that Sir Lemuel was probably married and that he would have to face the wife. “Where is she? When is she coming back?” he gasped. *“Oh, Sir Lemuel, it was only to say that she had arrived safely in Prome.” “Thank God for that!” exclaimed the captain, with a rare burst of reverence. The private secretary looked rather astonished. Sir Lemuel had always been a very devoted husband, but not the sort of a man to give way to an ex- pression of strong feeling simply be- cause his wife had arrived at the end of her journey. “Do you happen to remember what she said about coming back?” he asked of the wondering secretary. “No, Sir Lemuel; but she’ll probably remain till her sister is out of danger —a couple of weeks, perhaps.” “Of course, of course,” sald the cap- tain. “Thank the Lord! I mean I'm so glad that she’s had a safe voyage,” he corrected himself, heaving a great sigh of rellef. “That's one rock out of the channel,” he muttered. A bearer was walting patiently for him to go and change his dress. The captain whistled softly to himself when he saw the dress suit all laid out and everything in perfect order for a “quick change,” as he called it. As he finished dressing, the “bos’'n,” he of the gor- eous livery, appeared, announcing, “Johnson Sahib, sir.” “Who?" queried Captain Larry. “Sec'tary Sahib, sir.” “Oh, that's my private secretary,” he / thought. “I've brought the speech, Sir Lem- uel,” said the young man, as he en- tered. “You'll hardly have time to go through it before we start.” “Look here, Johnson,” he said, “I think fever or something's working on me. I can’t remember men’'s faces, and get their names all mixed up. I wouldn’t go to this dinner to-night if I hadn’t promised to. I ought to stay aboard the ship—I mean I ought to say at home. Now I want you to help me through, and if it goes off all right I'll double your salary next month. Safe to promise that,” he muttered to him- self. “Let Lem attend to it.” At the club, as the captain entered, the band struck up “God Save the Queer.” “By Jingo, we're late!” he sald; “the show is over.” “He has got fever or sun, sure’ thought his companion. “Ohb, no, Sir TARY BROUGHT| CRE~ BAS: KET OF OFF PAPERS Lemue), they're waliting for you to sit down to dinner. There's Mr. Barnes, the Judicial Commissioner, talking to Colonel Short, sir,” added the secretary, pointing to a tall, clerical looking gen- tleman. “He's looking very much cut up over the loss of his wife.” “Wife dead; must remember that,” thought Larry. Just then the Judiclal Commissioner caught sight of the captain and has- tened forward to greet him. “How do you do, Sir Lemuel? I called this after- noon. So sorry to find that Lady Jones was away. You must find it very lone- ly, Sir Lemuel. I understand this is the first time you have been separated during the many years of your mar- ried life.” “Yes, 1 shall miss the little woman. That great barracks is not the same without her sweet little face about.” “That's a pretty tall order,” ejacu- lated a young officer to a friend. And it was, considering that Lady Jones was an Amazonian type of woman, five feet ten, much given to running the whole state, and known as the “Iron- clad.” But Larry didn’t know that, and had to say something. " “Dear Lad, Jones,” sigh:d ¢he Judi- clal Commissioner, pathetical “1 suppose she returns almost 1m¥nedi- ately.” “The Lord forbid—at least not for a few days. I want her to enjoy herself while ghe’s away. You will feel the loss of your wife, Mr. Barnes, even more than I; for, of course, she will never come back to you.” To say that general consternation followed this venture of the captain’s s drawing it very mild indeed, for the J. C’s wife was not dead at all, but had wandered far away with a lleuten- ant in a Madras regiment. “It's the Ironclad put him up to that. She was always down on the J. C. for marrying a girl half his age,” sald an essistant deputy commissioner to a man standing beside him. The secretary was tugging energeti- cally at the captain’s coattalls. “What is . it, Johnson?” he asked, suddenly realizing the tug. “Dinner is on, sir.” Owing to the indisposition of the Chief Commissioner, by special arrange- ment the secretary sat at his left, which was rather fortunate; for, by the time dinner was over, the captain had looked upon the wine and seen that it was good—had looked several times. “You wiLL FEEL THE LoSS o EVEN RORE THAN [ F YOURWIFE MR. BARNES, “Shall we have the honor of your presence at the races to-morrow?” pleasantly asked a small, withy man four seats down the table. The captain was caught unawares, and blurted out, “Where are they?” “On the racecourse, sir.” The answer was a simple, straight- forward one, but nevertheless it made everybody laugh. “I thought they were on the moon,” sald the captain In a nettled tone. A man doesn’t laugh at a Chief Com- missioner’s joke, as a rule, because it's funny, but the mirth that followed this was genuine enough. “Sir Lemuel is coming out,” sald Captain Lushton, “Pity the Ironclad wouldn’t go away every week.” In the natural order of things Sir Lemuel had to respond to the toast of “The Queen.” Now, the secretary had very carefully and elaborately prepared the Chief” Commissioner’'s speech for this occasion; Sir Lemuél had con- scientiously “mugged” it up, and if he had not at that moment been a prisoner on board the Newcastle Maid would have delivered it with a pompous sin- cerity which would have added to his laurels as a deep thinker and brilliant speaker. But the captaln of a tramp steamer, with a mixed cargo of sherry, hock and dry monopole in his stomach, is not exactly the proper person to de- liver a statistical, semi-officlal after- dinner speech. When the captain arose to his feet the secretary whispered in his ear, “For heaven's sake don't say anything about the judicial's wife. Talk about dacolts”; but the speech, so beautifully written, so lucid in its meaning and so complicated in its detall, became a waving sea of foam. From out the billowy waste of this indefinite mass there loomed only the tall figure of the cadaverous J. C.; and attached to it, as a tangible something, the fact that he had lost his wife and settled the dacolts. It was glorious, this getting up before two strings of more or less bald-headed officials to tell them how the state ought to be run—the ship steered, as it were. “Gentlemen,” he began, Starting off bravely enough, “we are pleased to have among us once more our fellow skipper, the Judicial Commissioner.” “The old buck's got a rare streak of humor on to-night,” whispered Lush- ton. “His jovial face adds to the harmony of the occasion. I will not allude to his late loss, as we all know how deeply he feels it.” “Gad! but he's rubbing it in,” said Lushton. “I repeat, we are glad to have him among us once again. My secretary assures me that there’s not a single dacoit left alive in the province. There’s nothiug like putting these re- bellious chaps down. I had a mutiny myself once, on board the Kangaroo. I shot the ringleaders and made every mother’s son of the rest of them walk the plank. So I'm proud of the good work the Judiclal has done in this re- spect.” Now, it had been a source of irritat- ing regret to every deputy commis- sloner in the service that when he had caught a dacoit redhanded, convicted and sentenced him to be hanged, and sent the ruling up to the judicial fof confirmation, he had been promptly sat on officially, and the prisoner either pardoned or let off with a light sen- tence. Consequently these little pleas- antries of the captain were looked upon as satire. The secretary sighed as he shoved in his pocket the written speech, which the captain had allowed to slip to the floor. “It'll do for another time, I sup- pose,” he said wearlly; “when he gets over this infernal touch of sun or Bur- mah head.” The other speeches did not appeal to Captain Larry much, nor, for the mat- ter of that, to the others either. He had certainly made the hit of the even- ing. “It's great, this,” he said bucolically to the secretary, as they drove home. “What, sir?” “Why, making speeches and driving home in your own carriage. I hate go- ing aboard ship in a jiggledy sampan ' at night. I'll have a string of wharves put all along the front there, so that ships won't have to load at their moor- ings. Just put me In mind of that to- morrow.” Next day there was considerable di- version on the Newcastle Mald. “The old man's got the D. T.'s,” the chief engineer told the first officer. “I locked him in his cabin last night when they brought him off, and he's banging things around there in great shape. Swears he's the ruler of Burmah and Sir Gimmel Somebody. I won’t let him out till he gets all right again, for he'd g0 up to the agents with this cock-and- bull story. They’d cable home to the owners, and he’'d be taken out of the ship sure.” That's why Sir Lemuel tarried for & day on the Newcastle Maid. Nobody would go near him but the chief engi- neer, who handed him meat and drink through a porthole, and laughed sooth- ingly at his fancy tales. After chota hazrl next morning the secretary brought Captaln Larry a large basket of official papers for his perusal and signature. That was Sir Lemuel's time for work. His motto was business first, and afterward more business. Each paper was carefully contained in a cardboard holder se- cured by red tape. “The log, eh, mate?” sald Larry when the secretary brought them into his room. “It looks ship-shape, too.” “This file, sir, is the case of Deputy Commissioner Grant, first grade, of Bungaloo. He has memorialized the Government that Coatsworth, second grade, has been appointed over his head to the commissionership of Bhang. He’s senlor to Coatsworth, you know, sir, in the service.” “Well, why has Coatsworth been made first mate then?"” “Grant’s afraid It's because he of- fended you, sir, when you went to Bungalco. He received you in a jah- ran-coat, you remember, and you were awfully angry about it.” “Oh, I was, was I? Just shows what an ass Sir Lemuel can be sometimes. Make Grant a commissioner at once and I'll sign the papers.” “But there's no commissionership open, sir, unless you set back Coats- worth."” “Well, I'll set him back. I'll dis- charge him from the service. What else have you got there? What's that bundle on the deck?” “They're native petitions, sir.” Larry took up one. It began with an oriental profusion of graclous titles be- stowed upon the commissioner, and went into business by stating that the writer, Baboo Sen's wife, nad got two children by “the grace of God and the kind favor of Sir Lemuel the father of all Burmans.” And the long peti- tion was-all to the end that Baboo Sen might have a month’s leave of ab- sence. Larry chuckled, for he did not under- stand the complex nature of a Baboo's English. The next petition gave him much food for thought; it made his head ache. The English was like lo- garithms. “Here,” he said to the sec- retary, “you fix these petitions up later, I'm not used to them.” He straightened out the rest of the official business In short order. Juag- ments that would have taken the wind out of Solomon's safls he delivered with a rapidity that made the secre- tary's head swim. They were not all according to the code, and would prob- ably not stand if sent up to the privy council. At any rate, they would give Sir Lemuel much patient undoing when he came into his own again. The sec- retary unlocked the official seal and worked it, while the captain limited his signature to “L. Jones.” “That’s not forgery,” he mused; “it means ‘Larry Jones." ™ “The chief's hand is pretty shaky this morning,” thought the secretary; for the signature was not much like the careful, clerky hand that he was accustomed to see. Sir Lemuel's wine had been & stand- ing reproach to Government House. A dinner there either turned a man into a teetotaler or a dyspeptic; and at tifin, when the captain broached a bottle of it. he set his glass down with a roar. “He’s brought me the vinegar, he exclaimed, “or the coal oil. Is there no better wine in the house than this?* he asked the butler, and when told thers wasn't he insisted upon the secretary writing out an order at once for fifty dozen Pommery. “Have it back in time for dinner, sure! I'll leave some for Lem, too; this stuff isn't good for his blood,” he said to himself grimly. “I'm glad this race meet is on while I'm king.” he thought, as he drove down after tiffin, taking his secretary with him. “They say the Prince of Wales always gets the straight tip, and T'll be sure to be put on to something good.” And he was. Captain Lushton told him that his mare Nettle was sure to win the Rangoon Plate, forgetting to mention that he himself had backed Tomboy for the same race. “Must have wrenched a leg,” Lush- Larry. when Nettle came last, but as the secretary 0. 1 for all the bets he Lemuel would be into wrote “I. made, and as his own again before settling day and would have to pay up, it did not really r to the captain. : regiment was so pleased with Sir Lemuel's contributions that the best they had in their marquee was none too good for him. The ladies found him an equally ready mark. Mrs. Ley- burn was pretty and had fish to fry. “I must do a little missionary work (Continued on Page 7.)