The Owosso times. (Owosso, Mich.) 1897-1926, 1906-11-02


and stood for little while at the foot
of the steps, ostensibly to light cigar.
He watched Constance shipping the
rudder while Enid hoisted the sail and
old Ben piled a pair of oars to carry
the boat into the fair way of the chan
mel.
They neared the harbor lighthouse.
got way on her. Then she sped round
the end of the solid pier and van
ished, whereupon Lieutenant Stanhope
walked slowly to the promenade.
whence he could see the diminishing
speck of canvas on the shining sea I'M
It'll it was hidden by Clements island.
At last the devotees Of twist and
shag, resting their tired arms on the
railing, were able to exchange COM
ments.
"Brace o. fine CELLS, them," observed
the acknowledged leader, broken
down captain" of a mine abandoned
soon after his birth.
"Fine," agreed his nearest henchman.
Then, catching the gloom of the caps
tain's gaze after Stanhope's retreating
figure, he added:
But what does that young spark
want, turning their pretty heads for
them, l should like to knowT'
"They didn't seem particular stuck
on 'im," ventured another
1.-THE ways of women is curious"
pronounced the oracle. II once knew
a gell''-
But his personal "reminiscences were
not of value. More to the point was
the garbled, but, in the main, accurate
account he gave of the rescue of an
unknown child by one of the keepers
of the Gulf Rock lighthouse on June
morning eighteen years earlier.
Stephen Brand was the name of the
man, and there was a bit of mystery
about him too. They all knew that
light keeper earned n matter of $40 to
ESQ year-nOt enough to maintain a
daughter ard an adopted child in slap
up style, was it? A small villa they
lived in, and a governess they had,
and ponies to ride when they were big
enough. The thing was ridiculous,
wasn't it?
Everybody agreed that it was.
People salu branu was SVEN. Well,
that might or might not be true The
speaker did not think much of him.
He was quiet, unsociable chap,
though Jones, a Trinity pensioner, who
kept the "Pilchard and Seine" now,
wouldn't hear wrong word about
nj 1AI Ia
A pretty sort Of a captain! But, then,
they all knew what an old slow coach
Jones was. They did. Jones pints
were retailed on the premises for mon
ey down.
Then there was Spence, lame jim,
tale about q fight with a shark before
Brand reached the boat in which was
the blessed baby-that very girl, Enid,
they had just seen. Was it true? How
could he say? There was a lot about
it at the time in the local papers, but
just then his own mind was given to
thoughts of enlisting, as a British ex-
petition was marching across the des-
ert to relieve Khartum, and cause Cor
don's death.
No, Brand and the two girls had not
dwelt all the time in Penzance. The
light keepers went all over the king
dom, you know, but he had hit upon
some sort Of fog signal fad-Brand
was always q man of fads; he once
told the speaker that all the Polwena
mine wanted was wOrk-and the Gulf
Rock was the best place for trying it.
AT Lis own request the Trinity people
sent him back there two years ago.
Some folk had queer tastes, hadn't
they? And talking so much had made
him dry.
Then the conversation languished, as
the only obvious remark of any I'M
portance was not forthcoming.
Meanwhile the Daisy sped buoyantly
toward the southwest Although she
was broad in beam and stanch from
thwart to keel, it was no light under
taking to run fourteen miles out and
home in such craft.
But old Ben Pollard knew what he
was about. Not until the granite pill
lar Of the distant Gulf Rock opened up
beyond earn du was 1t necessary to
turn the boats head seward. Even
then, by steering close to the Runnel-
stone. they need not, during twO-thirds
of the time, be more than a mile or
so distant from one of the many
creeks in which they could secure shell
ter In case of a sudden change in the
weather.
Thencefo.ward there was nothing
for 1t but straight run Of six miles
to the rock, behind which lay the Scilly
isles, forty miles away, and well be-
low the boats horizon.
So, when the moment cameSfor the
final decision 20 be made. Pollard cast
an anxious eye at great bank of
cloud mounting high In the north.
There was an Orsinous drop In the
temperature too. The rain he antici-
pated might turn to snow, and snow Is
own brother to fog at sea, though both
are generally absent from the Cornish
littoral in winter.
"Ben," cried Enid, breaking off
vivid If merciless description of a new
disciple who had Joined the artistic
coterle at Newlyn, "what are you look
ing at?"