The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1896-11-26

Please to wait, sir, till call one of the
officers"
Presently we observed one of the off
GERS coming forward, conversing with
the steward. AS he came up he bowed
gravely, and said:
Il grieve to tell you, gentlemen, that
Mr.. Wycherly died on the passage here
and was buried at sea. If you will al
company me to the surgeons cabin, he
will supply yol with all the particI-
lars" and he led the way aft.
Sorrowfully 1 followed the grief
stricken parent, whose bowed head an |
unsteady step showed the violence t't
the blow.
81 am speaking to Mr.. Wycherly s
brother, presumed" said the surgeofn
after the officer had explained our er-
rand, turning to my companion. TIRE
resemblance is so striking that do 1fot
think l can be mistaken, though 4 /
should say you were slightly MS
senior"
Ills father replied my friend, sim.
ply. a.
II
come inside will show you my books.
1t turned out that poor Stephen, my
friends son--fis name, also-had beer
taken down with dysentery on the sikh
day out from Yokohama, and had nevel
rallied from the attack. a.
Did you remark the surgeons e.
preston of incredulity when you san.
you were the father of the Mr.. WycE ri,
who died on the passage?" l said to my
friend next day, as he sat in my office.
ut may turn out that you will have
trouble in establishing your identity
| can, of course, vouch for it, but it is
not likely that my story would gain I'M
disputed credence, seeing that it is I'M
paralIeled in the annals of science?''
Make yourself easy on that point"
returned Wycherly, with something OF
heat in his tone. 'As to my friends at
home, is it reasonable to suppose that
they would fail to recognize one who
is thoroughly conversant with each de-
tail of our family atfairs?'
q hope it may turn out as you say"
I remarked, obviously.
Just then my servant entered with
a card. l started on reading it, and
handed it to Wycherly.
Miss Gertrude Tremaine." he ejacu-
lated. But how-how-"
THE lady has come to inquire re-
gardng Mr.. Wycherly-Mr. Stephen
Wycherly,' said the boy.
SHOW her in" said 1, and immedi-
ately a tail, handsome brunette APP
peared in the doorway. She looked
first at one and then at the other, as If
undecided how to act, and then adj
yanced to where Wycherly was sitting
too bewildered to speak, and took him
by the hand.
"Why, Stephen" she said, don't you
know me? But l didn't expect to
find you here. l thought 1 should find
papa here. They told me l should get
news of him here at the place 1 used
TO direct all my letters"
"Why, Gertie," returned Wycherly,
regarding her with embarrassment,
don't you know me? Don't you know
Stephens father?"
What does this mean, sir?" she said,
drawing herself up with offended org
nifty. But do not fiatter yourself it
was to see you, sir, that [ came. !
came at the express desire of your
grandmother and aunt to see that your
father was being properly taken care of.
Oh, Stephen" she continued, in soft
ened tone, they are 50 very anxious
about him at home
but, Gertie, I am old Stephen
Wycherly you came to see," said my
friend.
"You." she cried with a ripple of sill
very laughter, as if now entering into
and enjoying the jolle-''you! | sup
pose you think that having made the
tour of the world gives you the right to
assume age. And now l come to think
of it, perhaps it does, for you do GER
tainly look five years older than when
you left us year ago, if that is any
thing in your favor"
had been studying all this time how
to eXtricate my friend from his Ii
lemma. So, rising, and looking at my
watch, l said in fatherly sort of way:
"You young people can get along
very well without me, 1 think have
an engagement which will take me at
least half an hour; SO / am sure you will
excuse me-"
When | returned they were gone. and
merely note from Wycherly remained
on the table, saying that he would COM
municate with me shortly. From thai
day to this I heard nothing of him
till | received this letter:
Wychwood Hail. Norfolk. Sept IL. 1896
Ny Dear Doctor: Forgive INV abr,nt de-
parture from San Francisco. You no
doubt wonder how matters turned ont
with me. First of all, Gertie-Miss Ger
trude Tremaine, now my wife-made ter
rlble noise after you so CONSIDERABLY and
| will add, pusillanimously left (she is
looking over my shoulder now and has
made me put in that last adverb). because ]
persisted in telling her I was old instead
of young Mr.. Wycherly. But little and
tlttle, by explaining well as I could.
that the treatment I had received after
the accident she read tout in your LET
ter had produced the extraordinary
change in my appearance, she subsidized into
an apparent acquiescence with what |
told her. You may call it what you please.
you may attribute it to the TRANSMISSION
or to the arts and wiles of Gertie. but