Morris tribune., 1896-05-06


/ returned Clifton. scratching his whiskers
thoughtfully. This isn't the sort Of
story that one tells to everybody. How
/ ever. he added. you're not everybody,
/ though suppose you consider yourself
somebody; at all events, If you promise
to keep it dark, fancy can trust you.
But let's go into some quiet corner-as
it's warm evening, suppose we sit out
side. where we can smoke. have cigars
enough. and this yarn will probably last
out more than one of them"
| AS they passed out OF the door, a
gentleman who had been sitting in a
chair not far off, with his hat drawn
down over his nose,, and who had SEEM
ingly been asleep, rose quietly from his
seat and proceeded to the door of a state
room little way forward Of the paddle
box He entered the room and locked
the door after him; then he breathed a
sigh of relief. He took off his hat and
! looked at his reflection in the mirror.
1t showed the countenance of man be-
tween 90 and 80 years of age-perhaps
nearer the latter age than the former
the lower part of which was thickly
covered with a brown beard cropped
short at the sides and round the throat,
but allowed to grow to "a point on the
chin The forehead, cheeks and nose
were deeply bronzed by the sun, giving
a peculiar appearance to pair of hand
some blue eyes. The hair was cut short;
any one would have taken the head for
that of a Frenchman. This idea would
have been confirmed when the gentle
man put across his nose pair of tinted
eyeglasses, mounted in gold. Ke re-
garded himself critically.
Yes, he muttered, in the undertone
| which people use when conversing with
themselves, Its good get up, consider
ing the simplicity of the materials. No
one can say am Disgusting myself; and
yet / doubt if my own MOTHERHOOD
bless her!-would recognize me at the
first glance. though my sister might. |
must have been intended by nature for
an actor; my features lend themselves SO
readily to disguise. At one time am
an American: then an Englishman; now
a Frenchman; tomorrow | may attempt
Turk or a Russian But what an ex-
traordinary piece of bad luck that that
fellow Clifton should be on this steamer!
Does he know that | am on board?
Hardly. And yet, what is he here for?
It must be on that same business; and
in that business l am concerned, how
ever unwillingly. Perhaps he has come
to look up my record. Confound him,
why can't he let me alone! shall have
a hard enough time of it without him.
Of course he will go straight to Inspector
Byrnes. and when the Inspector finds out
that I am not-whats that"
In order to answer this question, it
must be observed that the state room
occupied by the bearded gentleman was
an "outside" one; its window opened on
the water, or rather on a narrow strip
of deck which interviewed between the
rail and the wall of the state room itself
This stripof deck was just wide enough
to admit of a person sitting there, with
his shoulders against the wall and his
feet on the rail-an attitude said to be
favorite one with Americans, and which
any person who has studied the circula-
ton of the blood and it's action on the
brain will gladly put himself into. The
window. it should be added, was pro-
tected by a wooden blind with fine Stats
not noticeable from without.
The noise which had caused the
bearded gentleman to break off so alb
ruptly in his monologue had been caused
by the advent of two persons with camp
stools to the apparently secure retreat
which the narrow strip of deck already
alluded to afforded Having established
themselves there to their satisfaction,
and lit their cigars, they began to talk in
a low tone. But although the blind of
the bearded. gentleman's stateroom was
shut, the window itself was open; and as
he had reason to suppose that the con-
versation was going to be of particular
Importance to himself he took care to
leave the window as it was, and even to
sit down beside it. AS the reader will
already have surmised, the speakers were
the two gentlemen to whom we have al
ready been introduced-Henry Clifton
and Bob Stapleton.
You went first to New Zealand, eh?"
Stapleton was saying. How happened
your Valentine do you call him?-
to be there?''
He was the second son. don't you see?
and consequently, after he'd run through |
the money his father gave him, he had |
only himself to fall back on. So he |
started for New Zealand to make his fort
une at sheep farming. When got |
there he had been gone the better part |
of year or more. The sheep farming
had not turned out very well, but he
had got a sum of money somehow, and
had gone off to enjoy it; whether he
would come back again, and where he
had gone. no one could tell me. You
may be sure that if he had known that
his elder brother was going to die, and
let him into full possession of an estate
worth three-quarters of a million of dol
lars, he would have left his address,
Its most curious thing" observed
Mr. Stapleton, philosophically, how
some men will run after good thing all
their lives and never catch it, and an
other man will run away from a good
thing all his life, and never let it catch
him.