The Providence news. (Providence [R.I.]) 1891-1906, 1894-10-01


know Of The day must come, though
i dread to think of il, when you will
be robbed and probably murdered.
"Murderedw said Bowser, laughing
and still tossing his sold. "How nerv-
ous you are tonight! Nonsense My
plan will succeed / am hunting about
the docks at Limehouse now, and If you
only knew what discovery Hello,
who's thatg'
twas a muffled, mysterious sounding
knock at the outer door.
Its Scroggie, said i, jumping up.
"Old Scroggiep'
"Ahl Scroggie, is it?" said Bowser.
"Ah"
A change crossed his face, thought,
but possibly was mistaken, for there
was no light in the room except shad-
cd lamp and the uncertain flicker Of the
faces as well as upon the dark paneled
walls
went ont to admit my visitor. AS
walked along the passage | could hear
the ring of Bowser's gold. L felt chill
pass over me, and i shuddered.
'Alone?" said Scroggie in a low
voice IA / opened the door.
"Come inp' i said. "Come in It's
only Bowser.
He hesitated, with his hands deep in
his pockets. Then he hugged himself,
as if suffering from cold, and said:
''No; I'll look in later
''Not you" said /, taking him play
fully by the coat collar 1--WE were IA
miliar in our manners toward each
other). "Not you! I'm going TO give
Bowser a lecture, and / want an audi.
ence. So come and take the chair.
AS l still held him by the collar and
refused to release him, Scroggie, after
slight resistance, yielded TO persua.
sion. So / shut out the cold air on the
staircase and led the way into my coy
room.
Good evening, said Bowser, throw
ing up his bag and catching It. GOOD
evening, Scroggie. I'm practicing at a
little game. You'll excuse me. OuI
friend Field" he added, turning to me
--''our friend Field will tell You all
about it. It'smusic to me, sweet music. y
II hate the sound of goldl" said
Scroggie, seating himself beside the fire
withanother hug and turning his back
on Bowser. ''It reminds me of the dig.
gings. And at Frisco l used to hear
that clinking all day long. l hate it'
He spoke in low voice, with his eyss
fixed resentfully on the bright Goals.
Ny old sohoolfellow Scroggie was one
of the strangest characters i ever met.
Nobody knew where he lived or how.
Nobody saw him in the streets until
after dark, and then he was usually
walking at quick pace, with n slouch'
ing swing about the shoulders which
distinguished him even in dark streets
or in a crowded thoroughfare
He wore low felt hat and at all
times and in all seasons a thick, rough
overcoat buttoned tightly about bis
neck, giving him more the appearance
of sailor than of landsman. He had,
in fact, since our school days passed
most Of his time upon the sea-at least,
SO / gathered from his conversation
for many night we had sat together
over the fire in these chambers while he
recounted to me the shipwrecks and
other perils and dangers no had expert.
cnced.
He had n quick, bright eye; red
beard, which he had habit of some.
times stroking with his small, nervous
hand when he talked. His hair, thicl
and curly, always looked TO me as If de-
flying brush and comb, and his coat
had invariably that dusty appearance sc
suggestive of the wearer having tramped
over country roads. Why had resumed
my acquaintance with this man--hav.
ing met him accidentally in the streets
some two or three years ago---and why
az once became as intimate with him
as | had been In our school days is a
mystery ia human nature which i will
not attempt to solve
lie was amusing which may account
5r good deal. aud had known him