The Topeka state journal., 1909-03-11
TIE EVENING STORY

(By Casper Johnson.)

night coming on and his sailing master
casting an anxious eye, now ,aloft at
the straining rigging, now to the east
ern horizon where the dun, gray cloud
bank grew hourly more ominous.
The big white yacht made heavy
weather of it under her four reefs. She
stuck her nose into every sea and sent
the water flying over her windward
rail in a manner that drenched every
man on her deck.
Better put into Indian bay" the
sailing master suggested.
Ferrol, standing by the after rail,
grunted something that the sailing
master took for acquiescence, for he
gave terse order to the man at the
wheel. The yacht came about with q
rattle and banging that shook her from
stem to stern and went careening
shoreward.
Ferrol watched the ragged black
outline of the shore grow more pro-
nounced as they neared it. Presently
they were threading their way through
the score of rocky little islands behind
which lay the quieter water of Indian
bay.
Although the wind was screaming
through the rigging and the great seas
that rushed past them were fiecked
with an angry white foam, he was
loath to run for shelter. This combina-
ton of wild water and wilder wind suit
ed his mood admirably.
AS far as he was concerned person.
ally, he was willing to take his chances
of riding it out or sinking; it mattered
but little one way or the other to him.
Still, he had no right to sacrifice the
sailing master and the men because a
woman had made a fool of him. he
drew out fresh cigar and lighted 1T
from the stump of the one he had just
consumed.
She had made a fool of him. There
was no doubt about that. She had LED
him on and on-him. John BarroWs
Ferrol, the conservative. the man who
had always vaunted that he was I'M
mune from the wiles of woman, and
then she had tossed him aside calmly
like any toy that had lost its novelty.
He chewed his mustache nervously
and swore under his breath. What sort
of spell had she cast over him? He
ought to hate her; yet in his tnmost
heart he knew that even now he loved
her with all the intensity of his nature.
The little islands slipped past one by
one The yacht ceased her wild plung-
Ing and entered the quiet water of the
bay sedately. A few sharp orders from
the sailing master and the sails came
rafting down and the anchor was
dropped with q clatter of cable.
Before them the shore was dotted with
twinkIng lights that shone cheerfully
through the murky gloom OF the gray
twilight. The rain was beginning to faIl
in long slanting lines. Ferrol still
stood by the rail, smoking and absorb
ed in his own bitter thoughts.
He would send her a message. He
would not let her know how deeply he
was hurt; but he would let her know
that he understood now the whole i'm
port of their little affair. He turned
to the sailing master. who was prepar-
Ing to go below.
"Order the gig lowered, Mr.. Nc
- - fA-
During that pull shoreward Ferrol
was turning over in his mind the mes
sage he would send, and from some
where in the archives of his memory
came a quotation from Sir LaunfaP'
that fitted his needs to a nicely. 1t set
him smiling angrily as he sat in the
stern sheets of the gig, the tiller ropes
n either hand.
He landed at the little pier and splash
ed through the mud and rain to the
nearest hotel. At the telegraph desk
he filed out a blank:
Miss Annette v. Morley, Hotel Jack
son, Wanona Beach.
For cap and bells our lives we pay
Bubbles we buy with a whole souls
tasking.
Then he went back to the yacht,
smoked while, pacing the wet,
dreary deck, and finally went below.
He tumbled onto a wide leather seat
that ran the length of the cabin, and
went over it all again and again
their walks, their drives, their little
quarrels, the happiness that had been
his until that last bitter night-untfl
at last soothed by the monotonous
drip-drip of the rain, he fell into
doze.
He was awakened by hail from
the darkness outside. The light was
burning dimly. The brass chrono-
meter above the chart locker showed
that it was nearly midnight He hur-
ried to the deck and found launch
chaf1ng alongside.
"This the Alfrida?" cried a voice in |
the launch.
Eyes. What is it?"
"Mr. Ferrol aboard?"
''I am Mr.. Ferrol"
aboard and handing him |
4 yellow envelope which was ad-
dressed: Mr.. J. B. Ferrol, Yacht /
Alfrida, Indian Bay.
Ferrol tore it open and read:
Better read the next line"
That was all, save the heading,
Hotel Jackson, Wanona Beach,
He stood for a moment, frowning |
n puzzled fashion. Then, like a flash, |
The text of that next line came to him: /
9 'T'is heaven alone that is given away"
ANY answer, sir ?'' asked the wait
ing man.
Ferrol seemed suddenly aware of
mis- presence.
"Eh? No. Hold on a minute,
though. Is there any train out of
here before morning? I've got to get
10 Wanona Beach at once. One at
L2:46, you say? Wait just a minute
ill 1 have a word with Mr.. McGraw.
and then set me ashore, will you?"
Ten minutes later the sailing mas
.er stood by the rail listening to the
aunch chugging shereward through
he darkness. AS he started to go be-
ow again he saw the sheet of yellow
paper lying on the deck.
He picked it up and read it.
"That next line, whatever IT is,
must be corker," he chuckled as he