The Ocala evening star. [volume] (Ocala, Fla.) 1895-1943, 1912-06-13

iyd by for weeks at a stretch for want
Of consignment"
Not another word. captain. l un-
derstand perfectly. VIII We be having
a bit of drink. now?"
Captain Hole would. TT won't urt
to talk this over" he remarked Per
APPS we might myke some sort of a
dicker."
Faith, It's meself that's agreeable"
laughed the Irishman lightly.
And when. at midnight that night,
he parted from moist and senti-
mental sailor-man, whose capacity for
liquor-even including the indescrib-
able native retsinato and masticha-
had proved enormous, the arrangement
had been arrived at. signed. sealed
and delivered by clasping of hands.
And it was O'Rourke was the happy
man.
"'Tis Danny who'll be giving ne
the welcome" he assured himself sit
ting on the edge of his bed and star
ing thoughtfully into the disheveiled
depths of the battered steel kit-bcx
that housed everything he owned in
the world-for he was packing to join
the Pelican at noon
Il hope to hiven he has five
pounds" announced O'Rourke later,
frowning obviously.
Five pounds happened to be the
sum he had agreed to pay Captain
Hole for the accommodation, it being
further conditioned that the latter
was to accompany the adventurer
ashore at Alexandria and not part
from him till the money was forth
coming: something which irked the
Irishman's soul. why could he not
| take me word for it," he demanded
of midnight darkness tempered by
feeble lamplight. But, faith, forget
what I'm dealing with. Besides, tbs
sure l am to find Danny"
He arose and resumed his packing,
blowing an inaudible little air through
his puckered lips. "Divvilish awkward
If l don't -. By the Gods! I'd
all but misremembered :"
He failed to state exactly what he
had aforementioned, but stood mo-
tionless, with troubled eyes staring
at the lamp flame, for full five min.
utes. Then
I'll have to chance it," he said
slowly. "'Tisn't as if it were mine"
He unbuttoned the front of his shirt
| and thrust a hand between his under.
| shirt and his skin, fumbled about un.
| der his left armpit, his brows still
| gathered thoughtfully. Presently he
| gave little jerk and removed his
| hand. 1t contained a chamois-skin bag
about the size of ducks egg, from
/ which dangled the stout cord by
which he had slung it about his neck.
Holding this gingerly, as If he fear.
! ed it would explode, O'Rourke glanced
| at the window, drew the blind tight,
| and tiptoed to the door, where he
| turned the key in the lock. Then, re.
turning to his bed and making sure
hole, he cautiously loosened the draw.
string at the mouth Of the bag.
| Something tumbled out into his
| palm and lay there like a ball of red.
| fire, brilliant and coruscant.
O'Rourke caught at his breath sharp.
| ly; his very voice had an ominous
ring In its timber when he spoke at
| length.
Blood" he said slowly, blood. .
I doubt not that rivers of blood
| have flowed for the sake of ye Be
| like We were fashioned of blood in the
beginning, for it's that's your color.
and the story Of We as I've heard it is
all told when I've said that one word
And, after bit, I'D best put it away,
I'm thinking. 'Twouldn't be safe to car.
ry 1t that way any longer. If some
thing should catch in me shirt on
board, and rip it, and Hole happen to
see it-why, me life wouldn't be worth
a moments purchase. I'll hide 1t in
me box there; they'll niver suspect
And with that he thrust the Pool
| Of Flame back into the leather bag,
| and the bag into the depths of the kit.
| box; which he presently locked and
noiselessly moved beneath his bed.
After all Of which he lay down and
with another sigh slept TRANQUILITY.
I