The Washington times., 1911-06-30
CHAPTER /.
Out of the Fog.

and, by rough calculation, the fog
had continued for one hundred and
twenty hours. Ny spirits were
getting to the lowest ebb, but / bols-
tered them up at the thought that in
two days more my expected companion
would arrive from America and we
could begin Our two months tour OF
the Continent. Then, like a dash of ice
water, the briefly worded cablegram
descended upon me:
1T is of. Un expected business com
plications prevent sailing for inuetinite
period. Expect letter"
There was no appeal; 1 was left high
and dry, cooling my heels in a London
hotel with the prospect Of lonesome
wandering through Europe with only
the hope that L might pick up somI one
with whom 1 was barely acquainted.
l crammed The cablegram into my
pocket, wandered into the deserted read
ing room, and stared savagely out OF
the window into the Internal atmos-
pnere. Inc indlSunCt outlines or the
buildings across the street and the blur
red forms struggling through the log
did not tend to enhance cheerfulnesS. 1
hunted for a cigar, bit the end savageIy,
and resolved To take the neEt steamer
back TO New York.
Some one entered the room behind me,
but / only stared at the fog the harder.
When a man is in a blue funk he dis
likes company. Then voice dritted
across the apartment to my ears:
AT S sharp, McGregor, we take the
$50 express for Dover. In the meantime
amuse yourself, but don't get adrift in
those Internal cloud banks"
So some one was going to Dover and
across the Channel, probably with pros
poets of enjoyment ahead. Then II
struck me suddenly that the name NC
GregOr'' and the voice of the speaker
were familiar. l turned and beneld a
man, clad in tWeeds, standing with his
back to the fireplace, his hands thrust
deep into his pockets, pipe in his
mouth, and u wreath of blue smoke
drifting ceilingward. But through the
haze l recognized the face OF John
Morgan.
We belonged to several of the same
clubs at home and had frequently met
in a social way; at time we had touched
elbows on the street, where Morgan had
SO skllfully employed his brains that
ne was frequently quoted in the papers
as possessing an income which permit
ted unlimited Indulgence in his hobby
of wandering into every corner OF the
globe. He was a man popular IN the
best sense of the word; tall, broad
shouldered, blond giant, who kept bach
elor apartments, tended strictly TO ms
own affairs, and enjoyed his wealth anu
position unostentatiously: So far as
anyone knew he possessed no intlmates,
for there was about him quiet dignl-
fed reserve which discouraged famlllar-
ity, 1t was at a club dinner, given IN
his honor on the eve of his departure
TO some place or other, that an ac-
ouaintance sitting next to me said:
Morgan is a fellow who has every
thing in Gods universe that a man can
wish for. and l guess he deserves It.
But at times 1t would appear he is
hunting for something more; He has
a spirit of restlessness which Will not
down 1t drove him to don KHAKI ana
go to Santiago: it has sent him down
wherever trouble was brewing, ana the
good Lord only knows to what other
boiling places. It's always that tate1ui
restlessness, cropping out at unexpecte9
moments, and riding him ike the Olo
Man of the Sea.
And it was Morgan, who I knew had
left New York a month before, who now
stood regarding me from penlna tie iie
haze of smoke which issued from Ms
In the first moment he did not recog-
nize me clearly. but when L lett the
window and advanced a few steps, a
smile lighted up his eyes. He took the
pipe from his mouth and his hand "eh'
out in friendly greeting; ~, ho toor+-
''Well met, Robinson, said he near [
fly. "A familiar face Is godSehd III
this Internal fog-ridden country.
And somehow or other the very pres
ence of the man gripped me, and l for
got little Of my disapp0intmen5t IA ,,o,,
And you YOU l ,a%3cct aSkeG; e6ITS,' N Hs!e OU W
"Oh ont of the fogH' he answered.
Then. looking sharply into my face:
can swear that something wrong Will
He waved the pipe toward the win
And told him; for I quite forgot he
was a man who seldom asked or gave
You see, the doctors fancied 1 was
rrn down a bit and advised montn
or so over here. Not that 1 thought
needed it, but the old game was srom1 od
stav there was wearing on my nerves;
So / planned a trip with Dawson, anG
holted before / changed my mind: Ana
now I'm marooned IN TINS DeaSnH h ergf Los
and ready to start BACK on Ihe hFS'
boat that will take me.
I handed him the telegram
And why not go on? he ] asRe9
No! I tried it once; It was enough !
A faint smile touched the corners of
HIS mouth. ! recollected how ne wan
dered from one country TO anotner WI wiz !
only his Scotch valet, MCGregor, Tor
"Tt,s very well for-some people, but
was never cut out for hermit l
burst out desperately. -
He might have resented II, put only
H9%T ives" said he, ITS we'll enough for
some people, If they don't need cheering
He half turned and knocked the ashes
from the pipe into the fireplace. -,
"And where did you expect to go!
ne asked abruptly.
ITO Paris, Berlin, into Italy, perhaps
Vienna" replied.
"And now you're going back TO New
York. in a blue funk because the fog
has got into your brain I know the
symptoms; It's the restlessness got holo
Of YOU. And do you think New YORK
can mend It? I'm going to Paris and
farther Perhaps TIL not be always IN
q nIeasant mood, but If you'll risk 1t, ]
can. On the $50 in the morning | starr
Sor Dover, Shall we Join issues?"
II was the last thing / expected, for
knew his habits He noted my hesi-
fancy and smiled family.
"You may find me poor company
ventured. .-
warn YOU: I may lead you the devil OF
a chase" he answered. w
pulled myself together. I'll CO.
He dropped the pipe into his pocket
walked across the room and touched q
button in the wall.
"Brandy and soda-a pair" said he tc
the boy who answered.
When II came he raised his glass and
nodded toward the east.
Across the Channel, to Paris, and
farther" said he humorously.
we drank in silence.
That night I felt misgivings, when
fell 10 thinking what mood might seize
NV. COMPANION at any hour; then
-.,.,aJF a foo1 uho could not an