Arizona republican., 1911-07-05
PICK
By Philip s. Hichborn.
= a.

ripple at her bow. Her large yellow funnel, from which poured tiny rib bon of blue smoke, her many brass yentilators, indicated powerful engines below, and her high chpper-built bow stout seaworthiness. She dwarfed the other yachts that had seemed large be- fore, and as the DOrG'S engine-room bell rang for reverse propellers to hold her, and the sea churned into a soapy white foam at her stern, the others bobbed ridiculously in the stirred wa ters.
 On the bridge gray-haired sea cap- tain of the old school, but neatly clothed now in blue and gold lace, shouted an order, and the white-jack- eted crew sprang as one man to obey. There was hissing roar from the sea again, more white foam, and the Dora had dropped her anchor.
 Carter, watching from an overhang- ing cliff, put down the book he had been reading with an exclamation.
 Good Lord deliver us!" he solilo- quized, more money; it's everywhere. I dare say the man that owns that yacht is worth not a cent less than twenty million dollars, and here l am without enough even to fee the seTv- ants of the people with whom I'm stop ping. l believe l am fast becoming q socialist"
 He regarded the yacht with a frown. A girl of eighteen perhaps. in white linen suit, ran along the deck.
 Spoiled brat, I'll bet" Carter nut tered, and then, as the frown disap- peared. but she looks like a peach from here. wish she'd turn around; she certainly has remarkably fine hair. Never saw a prettier color"
 He watched a moment longer, then closed his book. stood up, stretched his long arms and legs and strode of along the cliffs in the direction of the Casino and swimming pool, his tall wellknit figure conspicuous in white flannel against the green pine woods.
 From the stern of the Dora. beneath the awning shaded from the sun, a woman watched him until he disap- peared, and then, with a shrug which might have been taken to mean much or little, had it been seen, disappeared below.
 Carter felt cut of touch with things. In days gone by-he had been coming
 
 it had been different, for there was the family then, and he, boy in school or college. Now all was changed, the place did not even look the same and was crowded with new people. Money was king 1t seemed.
 That evening Carter had dinner alone, under the vengeful eye of a forbidding English butler who had been obliged to stay and serve him. for his host and hostess were dining out Under the new regime, guests were eX- pected to take care of themselves. Car ter felt perfectly certain that the but Ter would have liked to poisoR>hi and he did not care much if he did.
 After dinner he lit a cigar and walked down to the yacht club landing, where he could sit in peace and watch the water and the changing lights in the harbor. For some reason he could not explain, the picture of the girl with golden hair in the white linen suit as she raced along the deck of the Dora had occurred and reoccurred tc his mind all day. He knew hundred girls who wore white linen suits and some of them owned yachts and had golden hair, but there was something different. something about the way this one. ',He gave it up.
 There was no moon, but the sky was starlit, and out in the harbor the white lights mingled with green and red. blinked and reappeared as the vessels swung to the tide. The slender bare poles of a white schooner yacht tow cred ghostly not far away and the light at her masthead rocked un- steadily to the slight swell. Carter looked for the Dora and discovered her half hidden by a projection of the cliff He watched her swing slowly to the tide and then stand out in a sharp relief against the sky. a glare of vel low lights shining from portholes and dining saloon. Her lines were perfect, he thought; she looked the miniature ocean greyhound.
 A small rowboat for the convenience of guests-jerked at its painter rot far from where he sat, and pair of oars lay by it on the float. Acting upon a sudden impulse he united the painter, shipped the oars, got in the boat and began to row slowly in the direction or the Dora She lay not more than an eighth of a mile away and in few moments he was within the range or her lights. He rOwed around the bow and looked up, where dozen of the crew were lounging upon the forward deck, smoking their pipes and talking. The bow seemed to tower above him Tn the semi-darkness, great enough to re- sist any sea He rested on his oars and let his boat drift astern with the tide. From within through the portholes, as he passed. came the sound Of voices. Apparently there was no one at all on the after deck It was unusually warm and he wondered why the owners did not take advantage of the fine night. No doubt they were still at late din ner. His boat slipped by slowly, the tide had passed the flood now, and was running out. Foot by foot the water carried him back, and carelessly he counted the bright portholes as he passed. Another moment and he had reached the stern. Something white upon the deck caught his eye and he glanced up swiftly. Someone was lean- ing upon the rail. He let his oars dip in the water noiselessly and held his little craft steady. It was a woman, all in white, and she had been watch ing him the entire time. He felt her eyes were gazing down into his, out he could not distinguish her features. The