The Bridgeport evening farmer., 1909-07-19

Bo,oles aOore the tight red jacket of q
 British trooper.
 cold chill shoot up his spine, but he re- fused to encourage the maids fears by turning around.
 "Your lordship," said Mr. Saunders three minutes later, "this is MT. Bowles, his majesty's agent here. He is come with me to-
 It was then and not until then that his lordship turned his stare from the sea to the clerk and his companion.
 "Aw," he interrupted, glad to see you, Pm sure. Would you be good enough to tell us how we are to reach the-er-chateau and why the devil we can't get anybody to move our lug gage?"
 Mr. Bowles, who had lived in Japat slow Englishman, with the curse of the cline still growing upon him. He was half asleep quite good bit of the time and wholly asleep during the re- mainder.
 Everything is transferred by hand, my lord, and the chateau is two miles farther up the side of the mountain. It's quite a walk, sir.''
 ''Do you mean to say we are to walk?'
 "Yes, my lord, if you expect to go there.'
 "Of course we expect. to go there. Are there no horses on the beastly island?''
 Hundreds, my lord, but they belong to the people, and no one but their owners ride them. The servants at the chateau turned MT. Skaggs' horses out to pasture before they left"
 Before who left?'
 -'The servants, my lord" Lady Deppingham's eyes grew wide with understanding. You don't mean to say that the servants have left the placer" she cried.
 'Yes, my lady. They were natives, you know"
 What's that got to do with it?' de- manded Deppingham.
 ''I'm afraid you don't understand the situation,' said Mr- Bowles pa tiently You see, it's really a trian- gular controversy, if I may be so bold as to say so. Lady Deppingham is one of the angles; MT. Browne. the Amer ican gentleman, is another; the native population is the last. Each wants to be the hypotenuse. While the in- terests. of all three are merged in the real issue. there is nevertheless a de- cided disposition all around to make it an entirely one sided affair."" 'I don't believe I grasp muttered Deppingham blankly.
 'I see perfectly exclaimed his wife. '"The natives are allied against us, just as we are, in way, against them and MT Browne. Really, it seems quite natural, doesn't it, dear?' turn ing to her husband.
 ''Very likely, but very unfortunate. It leaves us to broil our brains out down here on this pier. I say, Mr. er-old chap, can't you possibly en- gage some sort of transportation for here all day"
 ''I've no doubt I can arrange it. my lord. If you will just wait here until I run back to the bank I dare say I'll find a way. Perhaps you'd prefer standing under the awning until I re- turn"
 It was fully half an hour before he was seen coming down the street, fol- lowed by a score or more of natives, their dirty white robes Tapping about their brown legs. At first they could not believe 1t was Bowles. Lord Dep- bingham had sharp thrill of joy, but it was short lived. Bowles had chang ed at least portion of his garb. He now wore the tight red jacket of the British trooper. while an ancient army cap was strapped jaurttly over his ear. "It's all right, my lord," he said, sa- luting as. s.he-came.up-.4Th Hillsdo