The Raymer enterprise., 1912-09-12

not hear the full story Of his wander
ings for many months. We knew he
had sailed from England for Rio iu
the cabin de luxe OF an English pack.
ct boat. From week to week, for pos.
sibly two months, we received letters
from him. Then came the silence
The silence continued for six
months, until one morning received
note written on American Line pa.
per and postmarked Southampton. 1t
was signed by Ford.
Shall arrive on Philadelphia with.
In 4S hours after you receive this
short Of cash. Do you remember that
ten dollars you owe me?"
That was impudence for you! !
should have known who wrote that
note. without signature. However.
| clapped ten.dollar bill In an envel.
ope and mailed 1t promptly A week
later Ford dropped in to see me.
Much obliged for the cash. old
man." he said. 1T came In handy.
You see, they trimmed me beautiful.
ly In Paris. and l started out for Rio
with my steamship ticket and barely
enough coin to last me three weeks.
In fact. when l got to the Chilean
frontier town across the Andes.
was strapped. That made me sick
OF the whole job. and decided 1t was
time to head for home. There was a
prince OF a British consul there,
who loaned me ten.spot and got me
pass for donkey transportation
across the mountains to the Argen.
tine railroad.
Just by blind luck. I'd Clipped ac
Quaintance with the chief engineer OF
the construction gang on the Argen
tine side. and SO when hit him for a
pass to Buenos Ayres. he ponied up
like good one.
Il was feeling pretty dlsconsolate
and | went into cafe near the wa
ter front to forget myself for an hour
or two. That was the time when Bra.
I'll and the Argentine were seeing
which could build warships the quick.
est, you know. and there was big
Braziliano sitting in the place. with
his feet up. passing remarks to the
occupants in general. As soon as he
saw me, he concentrated his attention,
apparently on the suppositlon that be.
cause | was small ! must be easy. !
stood about two sentences and then ]
went for him. We were rolling pro
miscuously around the restaurant, and
| was getting a bit the worst OF It,
when little man with an arm like a
steam.fail came through the door, Aft.
er he got through with my Brazilian
friend there we're no scraps to be
picked up.
We'll. We shook hands and told
each other we'd always been longing
to meet. and afterwards we had a
drink. The little man was a British.
er. captain Of a tramp steamer due
TO sail the next afternoon, and when
| told him OF my troubles he clapped
me on the back and offered me free
passage to Rotterdam I'll have to
put you down on the books as cabin
boy or steward he said. But you'll
do no work. Come as my guest; III
be glad to have you He was a prince,
that skipper. Fed me at his own Ia.
BILE, gave me his own cigars and wine,
and when we reached Rotterdam he
Staked me to Paris.
Aunt Jane was In Paris, fortunate
ly for me. and I think she was SO
glad at the prospect Of getting me
back to America that she dlvIed up
without any side remarks"
never really knew Chatton, the
NTH OF my vagabonds. l had been
dining at a club In Picadilly with an
engineering friend. and as we were
passing out through the club parlors
my friend drew me aside to make
room for big. broad shouldered
man wearing blue spectacles. That's
Chatton." he whispered. He was one
OF the principal assistants In the con.
struction OF the new trans.Andean
line. He's always had bad eyes. and
the doctor told me he ought not to
work above the snow line, but that
wouldn't do for Chatton. He wants
to be where the fun is. You see, en-.
gineerlng as a science means little to
him. It's the game he likes-the fight
to oyermaster some problem. Poor
Chat.on Whenever there was a des.
perate job to be done. he was bound
to be on it-and all for beggarly six
or seven pounds week, suppose"
why do you say Poor Chatton?" "
! asked.
Because he'll never get over this
latest eye trouble. He got It from the
snow glare, just as the doctors said
he would.
But what will the man dor ex.
claimed. How is he going to liver"
He'll live-survive. rather" rejoin'
ed my friend, bitterly. His people
have money. But he'll never work
again. Every one who knows him IL
always cut up. And he feels It. too,
although he's deuced plucky about
It,"
II you have been In the habit OF
frequenting police courts or cheap