Los Angeles herald., 1908-06-07
CHAPTER XIII.
LEFT BEHIND.

Nat Davis stood staring blankiy
across and down the darkly-rolllng
North River, two hours after the
departure of the circus steamer Pilgrim with
10 Morris on board.
Somewhere he recalled he had seen an en-
craving of an immense Newfoundland dog
standing alone on a wharf, gazing mourn.
fully at a fast-disappearing speck at sea- and
labeled Left Behind" and Nat imagined
at this moment that he felt somewhat as
the forlorn creature looked in the picture.
Macready docks were about deserted, and
the river was piled by very few crafts at
that late hour.
A densely ignorant watchman knew so lit
tie concerning the steamer and the course
and time it would take in getting to Savan-
nah, that Nat, after few inquiries, aban'
doned half-formed resolve to try and over
take it in some way.
'It's gone, JOS gone, and I'm left" he
muttered, grimly. "And now what I've got
to do is to make the best of it."
Nat stood on the wharf rejecting gloomily
over the causes that had led to his being
late in reaching the steamer.
They were two. As the manager had
stated to 10, he had sent Nat to dispatch
telegram to friends in another city.
1t was to- be prepaid and with the rough
draft and fifteen cents, Nat started out to
find the nearest telegraph office. He found
one in hotel finally, but the rate, even for
a night message. was thirty cents.
Nat demurred. The manager, he said, had
given him only fifteen cents.
Oh, there was third-class company, a new
one that did that kind of cheap business
the operator contemptuously vouehsafed to
Nat. but he'd have fine walk reaching its
only office on Broadway.
Nat when started at a task however,
generally had the merit of pursuing it to
completion. The new telegraph company took
his message and fifteen cents cheerfully and
Nat bolted out of the door like a flash, as,
gldncing at a clock. he observed that he had
been exactly an hour carrying out the cir
Gus managers orders.
'1'll be late, sure, and 10 will worry" he
thought. uneasily. as he ran along the pave
ment. "Hello Wen. knock me down with
a feather!'
Nat had made startling discovery. He
had almost run against a man hurrying in
an opposite direction, and, as it was, the
satchel carried and swung recklessly by the
man grazed Mats arm.
Its that fellow, Cyrus Meservel" gasped
Nat staring after the needless figure scurry-
ing along the street He hasn't gone to
the train. and he isn't headed for any rail
city city at all. Why not? CracEy! Wouldn't You mt
it be corker if those fellows talked for
my benefit purposely to send 10 off on a wild
goose chase to Savannah. Pshaw! they
couldn't do that. for they didn't see me. /
wonder where he's going? What would Jo
do if he were here? I'll risk it'll follow
It was Cyrus Meserve, there could be no
doubt about that. His dark, sinister face.
once seen. was not likely to be forgotten,
and Nat had keen faculty Of memory in
this line.
The man looked excited and worried. Lit
tie as Nat knew about the city, the boy de-
cided, as Mr.. Meserve turned down a street
running west from Broadway. that he was
bound for the Percival mansion.
what's up anyway @ mattered fff Nat tof MaS, ine
be he missed the train. wish 10 was here.
/ wonder if I'll find out anything by follow
ing him? There's the street. there's Lang
ford Terrace. and there's the house. III 60
as far as the house, anyway"
The boy ran on in the shadow of the trees
as Cyrus Meserve turned into the yard
where Nat had first seen him earlier in the
night.