The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, January 21, 1906, Page 5

THE SAN FRANCISCO SUNDAY CALL. by P. C. Eastment) iE long, gray adobe walls of the haclenda lay bathed in the quiver of yellow light. Alleyne watched Mar- garet's face for a sign of truce, but the shad- ows came and went between the vines that draped the patio, as the interminable Sab- bath afternoon dragged away, Mar- | ®aret remained buried T frwn TS 1 in bher book. *“And A all about beggarly horsethief,” he mur- mured to himself, as he sat up straight and sent the piié of magazines crashing to the foor. There was a look of consclousness about the back of that shepely brown bead that held itself so persistently averted; but Alleyne deemed it wiser to reopen the subject of Miguel Over in the corral things wore a de- serted air. Two or three men lounged in the shade of the high wall Alleyne yawned, looked at his watch, and at a faint movement of the re the rocker. ‘“Margaret, I"—Crack-ack-ack! mewhere away to the west three shots rang out In rapid succession, & se, and then three more. ver in the corral, the lounging fig- s sprang to life, and an Instant later were galloping in the ai- n of the shots. Alleyne dashed e house, reappearing with the sses. They've got him!" He € at a collection of black s 6n the edge of the horizon t Margaret laid her hand Alleyne jerked the own. “I forgot you were ere nder her steady gaze his color Yes. if will have the annot be per- ~it's that you it re 1ed from Page 3 midnight when mdo the bell. The a police ive the San he could was nee- eholder do- achieve this At the fear- ey were in words—the llar became his encour- ayed no e San ollar, mer- with earnestness, twice. Nobody responde tion of the panel the si- alled was sinister. ' faitered Mr. Warm- should ght Va e's no one in ed ominously to the were hanging Sto: of coat Mr., Warm- hands; his imagination, fever by the remoteness of oddy—whisky toddy be- mdollar’s favorite tipple—be- m pictures of what dread dden in the silence beyond nsive door. Va took from his pocket steel, each about the size and began screwing them r end. The instrument was & foot in length, and looked ew-driver. As a matter of bur- was & jimmy of fineness It had been the property of y “flat-worker,” who made sefore he fell i the fingers or Val and w ) Bing Sing. Val applied the absent gentle- my to the Ban Reve's door, L ver the lock. He gave it & the bolt flew inward d back, armdollar, ired to where of he sat with his face the lower step Continued from Page 4. & trolley car which took him down to the Hast River, and a ferry which carried bim mcross to his ship. The time was 2 a. m. and the glow of the arc lamps and the rattle of winch chains, and the roar of working cargo, p far into the might. But noise made little differencé to him, and even the episode he had just gone through was jent to keep him awake. aster of a western ocean ferry gets little enough of sleep when he is on the voyage, and so on the night before salling he stores up as much of it as may it chanced Mr. Grimshaw took steps to impress himself on Captain Kettie's notice at an early stage of the next day's proceedings. The ship was warping out of dock with the help of a walking beam tug, and a passenger at- tempted to pass the quartermaster at the foot of the upper bridge ladder. The ssllor was stubborn, but the passenger was imperative, and at last pushed his way up, and was met by Kettle himself at the head of the ladder. “Well, sir?” sald that official. “I've come to see you tes your steamer out into New York bay, captain.” “Oh, have you?” said Kettle. “Are you the Emperor of Germany, by any chance? “I am Mr. Robert Grimshaw.” “Same thing. Neither you nor he is captain here, I am. So I'll trouble you 10 get to Halifax out of this befors you're put. Quartermaster, I'll Jog you for neg- lect of duty.” i 5 P shaw turned and wi o W..Gaer ook, “Thank ou, captein,” he said over his ghoulder. Tve got influence with your owners. Ader with e flushed ch I'll not neglect to use it.” Captain Kettle worked the Armenis outside the bar, and came down to din- ner. Horrocks whispered in his ear as R e N NS T N I, s : ... Margaret shrank away from hin with a low cry of disiress. The look in her eves went straight to Alleyne's heart, and his voice softened to a tender pleading as he tried to draw her to him. “Little woman, you cannot be the judge of these matters, and you cannot shield a horsethief. I could have told you this morning, but I preferred to let you think me a bit hard on Miguel than to shock vou with the truth. There have been some queer happenings late- 1y, both here at the Alaho and at Jose's. Last night a bunch of Jose's best punies came up missing, and the boys nave been trailing him sinte sunrise.” “John Alleyne. do you mean to let those savages of yours murder a man, bhere on the Alaho, just for the sake of & few hroncho Margaret faced him sternly, and Alleyne lost his hard-kept patience. “¥ou forget that there are men’s laws to be considered as well as God's, and out here on the rringe of the world the code knows no greater crime than lifting a broncho, and the lifting of many bronchos aggravates the case. It is not a question in which my wife may meddle.” And Alleyne strode to- ward the corral, while Margaret picked up the glasses. The wind-blown stretch of ‘bare brown mesa told her nothing of the tragedy brewing behind its crest. She watohed Alleyne until her eyes ached. A clatter of hoofs, and a voice calling her name brought her to the door, where a half-broken cayuse snorted and pawed. Astride of him sat Bright- Eyes, Miguel's Indian wife, the brown baby swung to her back. There was a queer ashen pallor. on the woman's stolid face, as she slid from the pony's back, one hand clutching at the deer- skin thong that held the pappoose. “White man got Miguel. Miguel he die”—here she pointed to her throat and made a gasping sound—“white squaw much hurree; Miguel he no die. Sabe?” Margaret cowered beforé the a pleading in those savage eves. a question in which my wife may med- dle,” John had said; but there was no time to weigh scruples, and five minutes burled in his hands, hardly required the warning One gas jet was burning in the San Reve's room; being turned down to low- ebb, it was about as illuminative as a glow worm. Inspector Val stretched forth his hand and instantly the room was flooded of light. In- spector Val was neither shocked nor surprised at the spectacle before him; he was case-hardened by a multitude of professio experiences, and be- sides, fortnight he had read murder in the San Reve's face. Storrl was lying upon the lounge— stone dead. A trifling hole in the back of the head showed ‘where the bullet entered in search of his life. There was a minimum of blood: the few dried drops upon a curling lock of the black hair were all there was to tell how death came. Storri had been dead for hours; the small 32-caliber revolver— being that ome which Storri had seen on & memorable night in midwinter— lay on the floor, where it fell from the San Reve's jealous fingers. It was a diminutive machine, blue steel. and mother of pearl, more like a plaything than a pistol. The San Reve was on her knees be- side the dead Storri, her left arm be- neath his head and her face buried in the silken cushion that served as pil- low. There was a looseness of atti- tude that instantly struck Inspector Val; he stepped to the San Reve and lifted the free hand which sung by her side.” The hand was clammy and cold as ice. The San Reve had died when Storri died, but there was none of the rigidity of death, the body was re- laxed and limp. Inspector Val sniffed the air inquisitively and got just the faintest odor of bitter almonds. That, and the relaxed 1imbs, enlightened him. “Prussic acid.” sald he. As Inspector Val replaced Reve's hand by her side a tiny that with a praver-book—was todged from a fold of her dress. the San vial— 3 The vial showed a few drops of a yellow- green fluld In the bottom. Inspector Val picked it up and the bitter breath of the almond was more pronounced than ever. “Exactly!” murmured Inspector Val; “prussic acid! She died as though by lightning—which is a proper way to die if one’s mind is made up. Now why couldn’t she have sent Storri by the same Toute? A drop of - this"—here he surveyed the tiny vial with inter- est, almost with approval ‘a drop of this in the corner of his eye, or on his lip, would have beaten the pistol. Ah, ves, the pistol!” mused Inspector Val, he came down the companion, “‘Mr. Grim- shaw’s the man on your right, sir. Had to give him to you. He's some sort of a big bug in the government at home; been over in New York inquiring into the or- ganization of those Pat-lander rebels.” Kettle nodded curtly and went on to his seat. The meal began, and went on. Mr. Grimshaw made no allusion to the previous encounter. He had made up his mind to exact retaliation in full, and started at once to procure it. He had the reputation in London of being @& “most superior person,” and he pos- sessed In a high degree the art of be- ing courteously offensive. He was a clever man with his tongue, and never overstepped the bounds of suavity. And now we come to the story of how Captain Owen Kettle's luck again buffeted him. Thé Armenia was steaming along through the night, to the accompani- ment of deep and dismal hootings from the siren. A fog spread over the At- lantlc, and the bridge telegraph pointed to “Half speed ahead” as the board of trade directs. The engine- room, however, had private instructions as usual, and kept up the normal speed. On the forecastle head four lookout men peered solemnly into the fog and knew that for all the practical good they were doing they might just as well be in their bunks. On the bridge, in glistening ollskins, Kettle and two mates stared before them into the thickness, but could not see as far as the foremast. And the Armenia sus along at her comfortable fourteen knots, with 500 people asleep beneath her deck. The landsman fancies that on these Dy e taking the baby weapon in his hand; "I suppose the storm drowned the re- port. Well, they're gone! Storrl was asleep and never knew what hit him; which, considering his record—and I'm something of a judge—was an easier fate than he had earned.” Inspector Val made a close examination of the room, rather from habit than any thought more deep, and straightway dis- covered the sleepy whisky. He put it to his nose @8 he had the tiny vial. “Laudanum!” he muttered; “she had mapped it out in every detail. [t was the «ight of the Zulu Queen; she saw that he was about to desert her.” Inspector Val heaved a half sigh, as even men most like chilled steel will when in the near company of death, and then, stiffening professionally, he called in Mr. Warmdollar, still weeping drunken tears at the stair's foot. “‘L want, for your own sake,” explained Val, “to impress upon vou the propriety of silence. These deaths will produce a sensation in both the State Department and the Russian Legation. If word get abroad through vou it might be resented in the quarters I've named. I shall give the Russians notice, and you must not let a word creep into the papers until after they have bcen here. If news of this leak out Jjt my cost Mrs. Warm- dollar her situation. Inspector Val visited the Secret Service Chief, and the two were as brothers of one mind. To lapse into the rustic figures of the farms, on that subject of secrecy they fell together like a shock of oats. Why should the world know of the splen- did gopher work of London Bill? The gold had been saved; to publish the dan- gers it had grazed might inspire other bandits. No, secrecy was the word; that question Inspector Val and the Secret Service Chief answered ds one man. And so no word crept forth. Yes, it was a secret stubbornly protected; the tunnel was stopped up, the vault restored to what had been a former strength or weakness, and never a dozen souls to hear the tale. ‘With the Russians Inspector Val met views which ran counter to his own. An attache of the Bear accompanied Inspec- tor Val to the San Reve's rgoms in Grant place. The attache was for sending Storri’s body to St. Petersburg. Inspec- tor Val objected. ing in the way—nothing, that is, except fishing schooners, which do not matter, as they are the only sufferers If they haven't the sense to get out of the way, But suddenly through the fog ahead there loomed out a vast shape, and al- most before the telegraph rung its mes-" sage to the engine-room, and certainly before steam could be shut off, the Ar- menia’s bow was clashing and clanging and ripping and buckling as though it had charged full tilt against a solid cliff. The engines stopped and the awful tear- ing nolses ceased, save for a tinkling rat- tle as of a cascade of glass, and, “‘There goes my blooming ticket,” said Kettle bit- terly. ““Who'd have thought of an ice- berg as far south as here this time of year.” But he was prompt to act on the emergency. “Now, Mr. Mate, away forward with you, and get the carpenter, and go down and find out how big the damage is.” The crew were crowding out on deck. “‘All hands to boat statlon. See all clear for lowering away, and then hold on all. Now, keep your heads, men. There's no damage, and If there was damage, there's no hurry. Put a couple of hands at each of the companionways, and keep all pas- sengers below. e can’t have them mess- ing round here yet awhile.” The purser was standing at the bottom of the upper bridge ladder, half-clad, cool and e “Ah, Mr. Horrocks, come here." The Armenia had back from th berg by this time m still, with t.h: fog '2:‘1‘10&. nlw-?uu'lm. “Now it's aill up old Y, purser; look how #he’s by the head dy. Get your'crew R R N N N N N N P X, o N B Ny O N N B N G B N S S P C GO QU e ORS00 R0 %Y “Why should you care?' said the at- , tache to Inspector Val. “I do not under- stand your interest.” - “She cares,”” returned Inspector Val, pointing to the dead San Reve. *‘I have made her interest mine. She died to keep this Storri by her side; I will not see her cheated.” “Will you send home then the body of A thief overtaken in the crime?” asked Inspector Val. “This Storri schemgd to rob the treasury. I do not think the rep- resentatives of, the Czar should oppose me in my whim.” “Who are you?”’ asked the attache. In- spector Val's disclosures were alarming; trained in caution, he did not care to defy them until he was sure of his foothold of fact. “The news you brought so affecied me that ‘I failed of politeness and never asked your name."” “I am Inspeetor Val of the.'ew York nolice.” . . 2 3 E ““‘And you ‘declare Count Storrj a thief - engaged in robbing your treasdry?” "l say it word for word. More; he had it in"train to burn a house and abduct a girl.” & The San Revef no longer jealous; and Storrl, no longer false, were given one grave, and the attache of the Czar and Inspector Vgl alone attended, as though repiesenting rival interests. The San Reve's prayer of passion had been grant- ed; her Storri would be her own, and hers alone, throughout eternity. CHAPTER XXTL o How Richard and Dorothy Satled Away. There came but the one name belore the convention, and Governor Obstinate was nominated for the Presidency by acclamétion. Senator Hanway wired his warm congratulations, and to such earnest length did they extend them- selves that it reduced the books of franks conferred upon Senator Hanway by the telegraph ‘company by five stamps. Governor Obstinate thanked Senator Hanway .through the eye- glassed Mazarin, who seized upon the occasion to say that Governor Obsti- nate was more than ever resolved in event of his election—which was among things surée—to avall himself of Senator Hanway's known abllities boats, Keep 'em in hand well, or else we shall have a stampede and a lot of drown- ing. I'Il huve the boats in the water by the time you're ready, and then you must hand up the passengers, women first.”” “Aye, aye, sir.” “Wait a minute. If any one won’t do as he’s bid, shoot. We must keep order.” The purser showed a pistol. |“I put ti in my pocket,” said he, “when I heard her “hit. Good-by, skipper. I'm sorry I haven't been a better shipmate to you.” “Good-by, purser,’” said Kettle, ‘‘you aren’t a bad sort. Mr. Horrocks ran off below, and the chief officer came back with his report, which he wamspered quietly in the ship- master's ear. “It's fairly scratched the bottom off her. There’s 60 feet gone, clean. Collision' bulkhead's nowhere. There's half the Atlantic u: bol;:fltlre‘dy." “How loi will she swi 3 “The ct;‘enter ‘said 20 minutes, but I doubt it."” “Well, away with you, Mr. Mate, and stand by your boat. Take plenty of rockets and distress lights and if the fog lifts we ought to get picked up by the Georgic before morning. She's close on our heels somewheére. If you miss her and get separated make for St Johns."” : “Aye, aye. sir.” “80 long, Mr. Mate. you.” “Good-by, skipper quiry if you can. Tll swear till all is blue that it wasn't your fault, and you save your ticket yat.” . | right, Matey. I Good luck to “ see_what you jolned them. They were the purser, the "DROP THAT ROPE | "SHE CRIED touching public finance in the role of Secretary of the Treasury. Senator Hanway and Mr. Harley, the Georgian Bay-Ontario canal still rank- in; in the popular regard, did not at- terd the convention. This permitted those gentlemen to be present at the nuptials of Dorothy and Richard, a negative advantage which otherwise might have been denied. Mrs. Hanway-Harley, basing it on grounds of duty, assumed formal charge of the marriage arrangements in the later hours. She akked Richard to name those among his whom he desired as guests at the wedding. Richard gave her Mr. Bay- ard, Mr. Sands and Inspector Val. Mrs. Hanway-Harley pursed her lips. Mr. Bayard? yes; but why ask Mr. Sands, printer, and Inspector Val of the po- lice? s ““Chey are my friends, ™ said Richard. _Mrs, Hanway-Harley shook . her Hedd in proud dejection as she medi- tated on the strangeness of things, Her danghter's wedding; and a detective and a journeyman printer among the honored guests! The homely disgrace ’ o of it quite bowed the heart of Mrs. Hanway-Harley. She was taken doubly aback when she learned that Mr. Gwynn was on his way to England, ahd therefore not to attend. “It would have pleased me,” said Mrs. Hanway-Harley mournfully, “had Mr, Gwynn been present. His absence is peculiarly a blow.” “I'm sure,” sald Richard, putting on a look of innocent siyness, llke a lamb engaged in intrigue, “had I known that you might feel Mr. Gwynn's go- ing away, I would have Kept him with ua.” Mrs. Hanway-Harley elevated her polite braws. Richard would have kept Mr. Gywnn with them! What manner of mystery was this? The wedding offered a rich study in ex- presélon. Richard was pale but firm, and if his knees shopk the aspen disgrace of it didn’t show fn his face. Dorothy was radiantly happy — beautiful and un- abashed, Somehow, a wedding never fails to bring out the strength of your true woman, Bess was splendidly responsible: she showed plainly that she considered the wedding the work of her hands, and was bound to see justice done it. Her N N N S O N N NG OSSR BTGOS0 NSO (U000 00ERRRRO0000N, THE ADVENTURES OF N B NN S N M O B N RGO of stewards together and victual the™ APTA mean. But I'm not going to shoot my- self this journey. TI've got the missis -and the kids to think about.” The mate ran off down the ladder and Kettle hgd the upper bridge to himself. The decks of the _steamer glowed with flares and blue lights. A continuous stream of rockets spouted from superstructure far into the inky sky. The main foredeck was al- ready flush with the water, and on the hurricane deck aft, thrust up high into the alir, frightened human beings bustled about like the inhabitants of some disturbed anthill. Pair by pair the davit tackles screamed out and the liner’s boats kissed the water, rode there for a min- ute to their painters as they were load- ed with the dense human freight, and then pushed off out of suction reach and lay to. Dézen by dozen the passen- gers left the luxurious steam hotel and got into the frail, open craft which danced so dangerously In the clammy fog of that Atlaptic night. Deeper the Armenia’s fore part sank beneath the cold waters as her forward compart- ments swamped. From far beneath him in the hull Kettle could hear the hum of the bllge P as they fought the incoming and then at last those stopped and a gush of steam burred from the twin funnels to tell that the engineers had been forced to blow off their boil- Get to m’!-,n.. _ ers to save an exvlosion. 1 A knot of three men stood at the head of the port gangway ladder shouting for Kettle, He went gloomily down and Zd/. later a strangely assorted pair rode into the face of the setting sun, and the rough little cayuse strove to keep pace with the swinging stride of the Hindoo mare. Far ahead, a black dot moved against the sky, that Margaret knew to be Alleyne. A glimmer of consequences flashed across her mind, but the sweet voung .mouth only grew a little firmer as she struck tpe trail of many horses and knew the goal to be in sight. On and op, sage brush and prickly pear: the yellow sand beneath and overhead the blue melting into the evening's violet crown—God's aurient smile upon the scene that swept into view, where men and horses. were grouped around the impassive figur: wrapped in the ragged poncho that lounged in careless grace against the white-scarred trunk of a large mes- quite. Margaret's eyes went instine- tively to the lariat knotted about the bronze throat. It was not the first time that Miguel had feit {t there; but Rusty Pete, himself, held the end of this one. The voices hushed instantly, and to a man the wide sombreros were lifted as Margaret slipped from the saddle and stood looking from ome dark face to another. An awful sense of self en- gulfed ber, and in another moment Mi- guel's cause would have been lost; but the grim set of Alleyne's mouth as he started toward her gave her the cour- age that is born of cowardice. Befors he could reach her she had broken through the circle to Miguel's side, and the sun struck along the barrel of a revolver leveled s ht at Rusty P “Drop that rope!’ she cried. ete let go as if the larlat were red hot iron; then she wheeled to face the riig of Miguel's accusers. “Men of the Alaho, you are many. This man is but one, bound and helpless; but the first man that moves toward him does so at his peril. If you persist in taking him, it will be over my body.” Alleyne's eyes were blazing, but not a man stirred for a long moment, an interminable time, it seemed to the wo- man, who stood between that ring of fierce faces and their prey. “God. in heaven, will it last forever?” supporting damsels, taking their cue from certain bridesmalds who had - rued a recent wedding of mark, we: tterly. “Bless you, my boy, bless . ex- claimed Mr. Harley, grasping hand. Mr. Harley had absorbed the im- pression, probably from the theaters, that this was the phrase for fitm. “And you, my child; God bless you! Be hap- py!” continued Mr. Harley, kissing Dorothy and exuding a burgundian tear. “1 am sorry,” sald Richard, as Sena- tor Hanway bid him and Dorothy an triendss affectionate Tarewell, “I am sorry the e vent of the convention disappointed us.” “It is as one who wishes his party .and his country well would have it” returned Senator Hanway. with Roman elevation. “Governor Obstinate is a patriot, and an able man. He will call to his Cabinet safe men—true advisers. The nution could not be in purer hands.” Bess made Dorothy promise to have Richard back for her own wedding in October; Mr. Fopling gave Richard a pleading glance as though he fhilmself would require support on that occa- sion. “Stawms, don’t fail me,” said Mr. Fopling. “Wedlly, I shall need all the c6uwage my fwiends can give me. And you know, Stawms, I stood by you.” Mrs. Hanway-Harley supposed the happy ones were to take the B. & O. for New York; Richard explained that they would have a boat. .“In fact,” said Richard, “the captain bas just sent me word that the yacht is anchored off the navy yard, awaiting our going aboard.” “Yacht?” sald Mrs. Hanway-Harley. “Oh, I see; Mr. Gwyn ' No, not Mr. Gwynn Richard looked more lamblike ever. Mrs. Hanway-Harley became sorely puzled. The truth was slowly soaking into her not over-porous comprehen- Ours.”—And than sion. As the launch, with the wedding party, rounded the yacht's stern to reach her gangway on the off-shore side, Mrs. Hanway-Harley read in let- ters of raised gilt: Dorothy Storms. She called Dorothy's attention to the phenomenon in a misty way. Mrs. Hanway-Harley, once aboard, went over the Dorothy Storms, forward and aft, speaking no word. The yacht, Clyde-bullt, was a swift ocean-going vessel of twelve hundred tons. Her fittings were fittings of a palace. Mrs. Hanway-Harley cornered Richard on the after-deck. “Richard,” sald Mrs. Hanway-Harley, I second mate and Mr. Grimshaw. Kettle turned with a blaze of fury on his suave tormenter. “Into the boat with you, sir. How do you dare to disobey my orders and stay behind when the passengers were ordered to go? Into the boat with you, or by James, I'll throw vou there.” Mr. Robert Grimshaw opened his lips for speech. “If you answer me back,” sald Kettle, “I'll shoot you dead.” Mr. Grimshaw went. He had a toler- able knowledge of men, and He under- stood that this ruined shipmaster would be as good as his word. He picked his way down the swaying ladder to where the white-painted lfeboat plunged be- neath, finding footsteps with clumsy landsman's diffidence. He reached the grating at the foot of the ladder and paused. The lifeboat surged up violently toward him over the sea, and then SW00] down again in the trough. “Jump, vou blame fool,” the second mate yelled in his ear, “or the steamer will be down under us.” And Grimshaw jumped, cannoned heavily against the boat’s white gunwale, and sank like a stone Into the black water. At a op there flashed through Cap- tain Kettle’s brain a string of facts. He ‘'was offered £10,000 if this man did not reach Liverpool; he himself would be out of employ and back on the streets again: his wife and children would go hungry. Moreaver, he had endured cruel humiliation from this man, and hated him poisonously. Even by letting him passively drown he would procure re- venge and fuf financial easement. But then the m ry of that Irish-American at the speaking-tube in the Bowery came back to him and the thought of obliging a cowardly assassin like that drove all other thoughts from his mind. He thrust ‘Horrocks and the second mate aside and dived into the waters after this passen- 1t Is no easy thing to find a man ir a ruogh sea and an inkv night lika that. CURRAN RICHARD GREENLEY>™ - Her brain was reeling, and the biack figures danced In a blood-red mist as the earth roge in waves beneath hef. The si- lent battle was almost done, when a wild yell from the darkening mesa scattered the circle to right and left as the man from Jose's galloped in. “Cut that rope!™” velled the leader, as he bore down upom the group under the mesquite. Margaret staggered blindly into Ale leyne's arms, seeing nothing but the flash of Pete’s knife as he cut the thongs; then utter blackness until she awoke to the white walls of her own room. Alleyne was bending over her. There ‘was something distinetly apologetic in his attitude. Margaret grasped her advan- tage. “Well?" Her tone was tentative. Alleyne. settled jgimselt on the side of the bed, laughing a bit uneasily. “l suppose you have the best of me, little woman. Your dramatio entrance upon the scene saved the day, or we would have sent Miguel on the long ride on another man's count. Jose's men “Who did it?” “One of the gr:asers. Miguel had been over to the pest, loading up on firewatss, as usual, and the greaser ran across him just about the time he discovered that the boys were close on his trail. Things were getting pretty warm for him, when he persuaded Miguel to take charge of the ponies while he skipped out. Natur- ally, the boys did mot stop to question Miguel, when they found him heading away from the ranch and the proof trot- ting alongside. It would have been ail over for Miguel but for the fact that the greaser met a man who had good rea- sons for wanting to find him—and found him. Explanations came later, and when the greaser realized that a few bronchos, more or less, couldn’'t count against a man whe had only about twenty minutes to live, he get things In motion to reach Miguel. That is all the story.” The south wind rustled the vines In the patio. Margaret looked down to the grove of mesquite just beyond the big corral, where a brown baby rolled in the dust at the door of Miguel's tepee. Al- leyne's eves followed hers. He under- stood. “what took Mr. Gwynn abroad?” “Why,” responded Richard, with & cheerful manner of innocence, “you see there’s a deal for Mr. Gwynn to do. There's the country house in Berks, and the house in London; then there's the Paris house and the villa at Nice, and lastly the place in the mountains back of Naples—Mr. Gwynn will have to put them In order. The one near Naples—a kind of old castle, it is—has been in bad hands; there will be plenty of work in that-quarter for Mr. Gwynn, I fancy. You know, mother”—and Rich- ard donned an air of filal confidence— “since this is Derothy's first look at them, I'm more than commonly anxious she should be given a happy—" Where the wretched Richard would have maundered to will never be knmown, for he was broken in upon by Mrs. Han- way-Harley. ) “Richard, who is Mr. Gwynn?" This with a severe If agitated gravity. “Who is Mr. Gwynn?” “Who Is Mr. Gwynn?" repeated Rich- ard, blandly. “Well, really, I suppose he might be called my majordomo; or per- haps butler would describe him.” “You told me Mr. Gwynn had had about him the best society in England.” Mrs. Hanway-Harley’'s manner bor- dered upon the tragic, for it bore upon her that she had given a dinner of honor to Mr. Gwynn. “Why, my dear mother, and so he has had. I can't remember all their noble pames, but one time and another Mr. Gwynn has been butler for the Duke of This and the Earl of That—really, Mr. Gwynn's recommendations read lke a leaf from ‘Burke's Peerage.’ I myself had him from the Baron Sudley.” Mrs. Hanway-Harley was for a moment dumb. Dorothy and Bess appeared, hav- ing completed a ransack of staterooms and cabins. The sight of her daughter restored to Mrs. Hanway-Harley the power of speech. “Dorothy,” she cried, raising her hands limply, “Dorothy, I belleve our Richard's rich!”" And Mrs. Hanway-Harley wept. “I shall always love him, whatever he is!" exclaimed Dorothy, all tenderness and fresh alarm. Dorothy did not understand. “Dear, when did you name the Dorothy Storms?” “The day after you precipitated your- self into my arms—and my heart.” “I think you were shamefully confl- dent,” whispered Dorothy, with a deli- cious sigh. Richard, the brazen, replied to the at= tack as became a lover and gentleman. And so they sailed away. (The End) and for long enough neither returned to the surface. The men In the lifeboat, fearing that the Armenia would founder and drag them down in her wash, were beginning to shove off, when the two bodies showed on the waves and were dragged on board with boathooks. Both were insensible, and in the press of the moment were allowed to remain so on the bottom gratings of the boat. Oars straggled out from her sides, frane tically laboriug, and the boat fled ove the seas like some uncouth insect. . But they were not without a mark to steer for. Rockets were streaming up out of another part of the night, and presently as they rowed on over the bleak watery desert the outline of a great steamer shone out, lit up like some vast age picture. The other boats had de- livered up their freights and been set adrift. The second mate’s hoat rowed to the foot of her gangway ladder. “This is the Georgic,” said a smart of- ficer who received them. ‘“You are the last boat. We've got all your other peo- le unless you've lost any.” ‘No,” said the second mate. “We're all right. That’s tie old man down there with his fipgers in that passenger’s hair.” “Dead?” “No; I saw them doth move as we came alongside.” “Well, pass 'em up and let's get "em down to our doetor. Hurry now. We wanted to break the record this passage, and we've lost a lot of time already over you."” “Right-0,”" said the Armenia’s second mate drearily, “though I don’t suppose our poor old skipper will thank us for keeping him alive. After piling up the i old Atrocity he isn't likely to ever get - another berth.” “Man has to take luck as he finds it at sea,” said the Georgic's officer, and shout- ed to the rail above him. “All aboard, sir. “Cast off that boat! Up gangway.” came the orders, and the Georgic contin- ued her race to the east.