Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1914-05-08
CHAPTER II.
A Man With a Past.


northern latitudes, might have served
as an illustration of an air-tight bowl
flung down relentlessly upon this part
of the world. Inside this figurative
bowl it was chill, yet the air was stir-
less. 1t was without refreshment; II
became a labor and not an exhilara-
ton to breath it. A pail OF sunocat-
ing dust rolled above and about the
Irrawaddy fiotilla boat which, buceted
by the strong irregular current
strained at it's cables, now at the DOW
now at the stern, not dissimilar to the
last rocking of a deserted swing. This
sensation was quite perceptible to the
girl who leaned over the bow-rail'
her handkerchief pressed to her nose,
and gazed interestedly at the steep
bank, up and down which the sweat
ing coolies swarmed like Gargantuar
rats. They clawed and scrambled up
and slid and shuffled down ana al
ways the bank threaten ed to slip ana
carry them all into the swirling muck
below. A dozen torches were STUCK
into the ground above the crumoiins
edge: she saw the flames as one sees
@ burning match cuppel in a smokers
hands, shedding light upon nothing
save that which stands Immediately
behind it.
She choked a little. Her eyes
smarted. Her lips were slghty
cracked, and cold-cream seemed only
to provide a surer resting place Tor
the impalable dust 1t had penetrat-
ed her clothes; it had percolated
through wool and linen and silk' In
timately, until three baths a day had
become a welcome routine, providing
II was possible to obtain water. wat
or, Her tongue ran across her lips.
oh, for a drink from the DID, coio
pure spring at home! Tea, coffee, and
bottled soda; nothing that ever touch
ed the thirsty spots in her throat
She looked up at the stars and they
looked down upon her, but what she
asked they could not, would not
answer. Night after night she hao
asked. and night after night they had
only twinkled as of old. She had
travelled now for four months, and
still the doubt beset her. 1t was 10
he a leap in the dark, with no one 10
teu her what was on the other side.
But why this instant doubt? why
could she not take the leap gladly
as q woman should who had given the
affirmative to a man? With him she
was certain then she loved him, away
from him she did not know what
sentiment really abided in her heart
She was wise enough to realize tnat
something was wrong; aud there were
but three months between her ana
the inevitable decision. Never before
had she known other than momen-
tary indecision; and 1t irked her 10
find that her clarity of vision was fal-
ible and human like the rest OF her.
The truth was, she didn't know her
mind. She shrugged, and the move
ment stirred the dust that had gath
cred upon her shoulders,
What a dust-ridden, poverty-rld-
on. plague-ridden world she had seen!
Ignorance welded to superstition,
vet waited upon by mystery aid ro-
nance and incompatible beauty. AS
the Occidental thought rarely hnds
analysis in the Oriental mind, so her
mind could not gather and understand
this amalagamation Of art ana lg-
norance. She forgot that another race
of men had built those palaces and
TEMPLES and forts and tombs, and that
they had vanished as the Greeks and
Romans have vanished, leaving only
empty spaces behind, which the sur
viving tribes neither fill nor compre-
hend.
"a rare old lot of dust, eh, Miss
Chetwood? I wish we could travel
by night, but you can't trust this
blooming old Irrawaddy after sun
down. Charts are so much waste
paper. You just have to know the
old lady. Bars rise in night, SHIFT
this side and that. But the days are
all right. No dust when you get III
mid-stream. What?
81 never cease wondering how
those
heavy rice-bags," she replied to the
purser.
"Oh. they are used to it." careless
ly.
The great gray stack of paddy-bags
seemed, in the eyes of the girl, fairly
to melt away.
"By Jove!" exclaimed the purser.
There's Parrot & CO.." He laughed
and pointed toward one of the torch
eS.
Parrot & Co? I don't under
stand"
That big blond chap behind the
fourth torch. Yes. there. Sometime
I'll tell you about him. Picturesque
duffer"
She could have shrieked aloud, but
all she did was to draw in her breath
with a gasp that went so deep it gave
her heart a twinge. Her fingers
frightened upon the teak-rail. Sudden
" she knew, and was ashamed OF her
weakness. 1t was simply remark
able likeness, nothing more than that;
il could not possibly be anything
more. Still, a ghost could not have
startled her as this living man had
done.
WHO is he?"
"a chap named Warrington. But
over here that signifies nothing;
might Just as we'll be Jones or Smith
or Brown. We call him Parrot &
Co, but the riff-raff have another
name for him: The Man Who Never
Talked of Home. For two or three
seasons he's been going up and down
the river. Ragged at times, prosper
Gus at others. Lately it's been rags
He's always carrying that Rajputana
parrot. You've seen the kind around
the palaces and forts; saber-blade
wings, long tail-feathers, green and
blue and scarlet. and the ugliest lit
Sc, fro N