The Hattiesburg news. (Hattiesburg, Miss.) 1908-1917, 1913-06-10

"Seafaring man, aren't your" in
quired Kent.
mo more. Fifty year of it, man
an boy, has put me in harbor."
That's Sailor Smith," explained Jar
Wis, who had assumed the duties of a
self-appointed cicerone. mot much
about the sea, and its ways, good or
bad, that he don't know"
True for you." confirmed several
voices s..
Then. Mr.. Smith. win you take o
look at those lashings and tell me
whether in your opinion they are the
work of a sailorf" asked Kent.
The old hands b fumbled expertly.
The old face puckered. Judgment
came forth presently.
THE knots is well enough. The
lashin's a passable job. What gifts me
is the rope"
We'll, what's wrong with the roper"
"Nothin in perticler. Only, don't
know what just that style of rope
would be dom on shipboard, unless it
was to hang the old mans wash on"
Suppose we lift this grating" Kent
suggested.
At this the man with the badge in
terposed. Say, who's runnin' this
thing, anyhow? I'm sheriff here, an
this body amt to be moved till doc
tor has viewed it."
"Of course" said Kent mildly; but
l thought you might be interested to
see, Mr.. Sheriff, whether a ships name
was stamped somewhere on this graf
ing"
We'll, l don't want any amachure
learning me my business" declared
the official Importantly.
Nevertheless, he heaved the wood
work up on edge and held it so, while
eager eyes scanned the under part
Murmurs of disappointment followed
In these Kent did not Join. He had
inserted a finger in a crevice of the
splintered wood and had extracted
some small object which he held In
the palm Of his hand, examining it
thoughtfully
"Wot We got there?" demanded the
sheriff.
Professor Kent stretched out his
hand, disclosing a small grayish OBJ
ject.
II should take it to be the cocoon of
Ephestia kuehniella," he announced.
AN wot does he do for livin'?"
inquired the official, waxing humorous.
Destroys crops. It's a species of
grain-moth."
"Oh!" grunted Schlager. You're a
bug collector, eh?"
Exactly" answered the other, trans
ferring his trove to his pocket.
Thereafter he seemed to lose interest
in the center of mystery. Withdraw
ing to some distance, he paced up and
down the shore, whistling lively tunes,
not always in perfect accord, from
which a deductive mind might have
inferred that his soul was not in the
music.
Nearer and nearer to high-water
mark his pacing took him. Presently,
though all the time continuing his
whistling, he was scanning the tangled
debris that the highest tide of the
year had heaped up, almost against
the cliffs foot. His whistling became
slow, lugubrious, minor. 1t sagged.
1t died away. When it rose again, it
was in march time, whereto the
virtuoso stepped briskly toward the
crowd. By this time the group had
received several additions, but had
suffered the loss of one of its com
ponent parts, the sheriff. Conjecture
was buzzing from mouth to mouth as
to the official sudden detection.
Whatever it was he got from the
pocket" Kent heard one of the men
say, lit started him quick"
Looked to me like an envelope"
hazarded some one.
NO." contradicted Sailor Smith;
paper would have been all pulped up
by the water"
Marked handkerchief, maybe" sug-
gested another.
Like as not" said Jarvis. "You
bet that Len Schlager figured it out
there was somethin' in it for him, any.
ways. I could see the money.gleam
in his eye"
That's right, too," confirmed the
old sailor "He looked just like that
when he brought in the half-wit pedler,
/ h iFAly fnrr h..