Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1912-06-04
A DERELICT
How the Story of the Destruction of
Cervera's Fleet Was Told.
Bv RICHARD HARDING DAVIS.
pyrisht by Charles scribner's Sons.


Yes, he is, saw him last night, and
he was sore because he'd just moved
his wife down here. He said If he'd
known this was coming he'd have let
her stay in New York. He says he'll
lose money on this assignment, hav-
ing to support himself and his wife in
two different places"
Norris, "the star man" OF the
World" howled with Indignation.
Good Lord!" he said, "is that all he
sees in it? Why, there never was such
a chance. / tell you, some day soon all
of those warships will let loose at each
other and there will be the best story
that ever came over the wire. and If
there isn't. it's regular loaf anyway.
It's a picnic, that's what 1t Is, at the
expense Of the Consolidated Press.
Why, he ought to pay them to let him
go. Can't you see him, confound him,
sitting under a palm-tree in white
fiannels, with a glass Of Jamaica rum
| in his fist, while we're lodging yellow
lfever on this coral-reef, and losing
our salaries on a crooked roulette
wheel?"
| 81 wonder what Jamaica rum Is like
as a steady drink" unused the ex-base-
ball reporter, who had been converted
into a war correspondent by the pur-
chase of a white yachting cap.
1T won't be long before Heating finds
out" said the journal" man.
"Oh, 1 didn't know that" ventured
the new reporter, who had just come
south from Boston. Il thought he
didn't drink. 1 never see Keating in
here with the rest Of the boys"
You wouldn't" said Norris. He
only comes in here by himself, and he
drinks by himself. He's one Of those
confidential drunkards. You give some
men whisky, and it's like throwing ker-
osene on a fire, isn't 1t? 1t makes
them wave their arms about and talk
loud and break things, but you give II
| to another man and it's like throwing
kerosene on a cork mat. 1t Jus soaks
in. That's what Heating is. He's a
sort of cork mat"
II shouldn't think the c. P. would
stand for that" said the Boston man.
TT wouldn't if it ever interfered with
his work, but he's never fallen down on
story yet. And the sort of stuff he
writes Is machine-made; a man can
write c. P. stuff in his sleep"
"One of the World" men looked up
and laughed.
| II wonder If he'll run across Chan
ming out there" he said. The men at
the table smiled, a kindly, indulgent
smile. The name seemed to act upon
| their Indignation as a shower upon
the close air of summer day. That's
So" said Norris. He wrote me last
month from Port-au-Prince that he
was moving on to Jamaica. He wrote
me from that club there at the end of
| the wharf. He said he was at that mo-
ment introducing the president to a
new cocktail, and as he had no money
to pay his passage to Kingston he was
trying to persuade him to send him on
there as his Haitian consul. He said
in case he couldn't get appointed con-
sui, he had an offer to go as cook on
fruit tramp"
| The men around the table laughed.
1t was the pleased, proud laugh that
futters the family dinner-table when
the infant son says something preco-
cious and impudent.
who is Channing?" asked the Bos-
ton man.
There was pause, and the corre-
spondents looked at Norris.
Charming is sort Of derelict," he
said He drifted into New York last
Christmas from the Omaha Bee He's
been on pretty nearly every paper in
the country"
| Whats he doing in Haiti?"
He went there on the Admiral De-
catur' to write a filibusterng story
about carrying arms across to Cuba
Then the war broke out and he's been
trying to get back to Key West, and
now, of course he'll make for Kings
ton. He cabled me yesterday, at my
expense, to try and get him job on
our paper. II the war hadn't come on
he had a plan to beat his way around
the world. And he'd have done 1t, too.
I never saw a man who wouldn't help
| Charlie along, or lend him a dollar" :"
He glanced at the faces about him and
1 ,i,ly Of hn
of them look guilty, don't they?" he
said.
Charlie Claiming" murmured the
baseball reporter, gently, as though he
were pronouncng the name of girl
He raised his glass. Here's to Char
lie Claiming" he repeated. Norris set
down his empty glass and showed 1t
to the Boston man.
That's his only enemy" he said.
Write Heavens, how that man can
write, and he'd almost rather do any
thing else. There isn't paper i'm New
York that wasn't glad to get him, but
they couldn't keep him a week. 1t was
no use talking to him. Talk! I've
talked to him until o'clock I'm the
morning. Why, 1t was made him send
his first Chinatown story to the Inter
national Magazine and they took II
like a flash and wrote him for more
but he blew I'm the check they sent him
and didn't even answer their letter. He
said after he'd had the fun of writing
n story he didn't care whether it was
published i'm a Sunday paper or ir
white vellum. or never published at all
And so long as he knew he wrote 1t
he didn't care whether any one else
knew it or not. Why. when that Eng
lish reviewer-what's his name?-that
friend of Kipling's.-passed through
New York, he said To a lot of us at the
Press Club, You've got young mar
here on Park Rowan opium eater,
should say, by the look of him-who
if he would work and leave whisky
alone, would make us all sweat That's
Just what he said, and he's the best in
England"
Charles a genius" growled the
baseball reporter, defiantly. Il say