The Bridgeport evening farmer., 1915-11-13
(Contanued.J

Iome guides would have hastened to thange the name
 Billy chung to it stubbornly. He elung to his opinions stubbornly, his weather prognostications, his lore con eerning bass.
 He erred sometimes because he was human, but the saying went that when he couldn't drop his mudhook over a school of bass it was time to pack up the rods.
 Well, send Lester over to the hotel after dinner tonight. Hell find me ill the billiard room. I've. got some let ters to write before Iunch. And maybe I'll find some mail.'' esAn right. I'll see t Lester.''
 And tomorrow I'll go out to Pidgin and hook lem right from under your old mud scow.n
 ssUh-huht I've heard lem say that before I'm tellin' you she can fish. Am don't know s I want t fish you now anyhow
 Cranford filled his pockets with ap- ples-
 ..Tn tell you what I'll do. I'll bet box of any cigars in the village that 1 beat you out tomorrow ''.
 Fifty. cigars against fifty apples n Ial go you. "Done.,r
 Ten cent straights7"
 1.-Two for q quarter if you like. By byl It was good to see you again, Bill 1y. By the way. has any one caught al four and half poundey over in the gut at Horseshoe?" 2"
 Not that I've heard tell of Oh, y needn't worry That o1' sogger's nosin' around there yets That's whnt comes O tryin' them newfangled hooks. Hell go five now f some blame pam prey eel ain't ct him up sidewise. But I'm savin' him fer Miss Wynne.''
 stPif1er'
 That's right: sr--ing one O them foreign words on me so s I can't talk back
 Cranford stepped outside into the rain. The sky promised no letup There wasn't q break anywhere but these sudden squalls of wind and sting ing sheets of rain he read sailorwise. Before sundown the storm would be gone
 Where had the girl picked up such lore2 Born at sea, so she had said. Perhaps d sailors daughter. But in that case fresh water would not ap- peal to her. And where had she learn ed to fish for bass? Wisconsin, Maine, the Rideau?
 The sou Wester, the dripping rain coat the soaked shoes, were as vivid. to his understanding as written words Here was girl out of the ordinary brave and resourceful. perhaps com panionable, an essential lacking in .nine-tenths of the women he knew.
 Wynne It was good name, but he could not Feco1Iect having heard it episodically. Some millionaire's daughter. probably who did not depend upon others for her amusements- The world was changing it's habits fast.
 Women carried banners through the streets, rode airships, successfully can tered in and out of the stock market along with their biscuit making. So long as the biscuit remained light and edible what mattered the ballot?
 A telegram Awaited Cranford at the hotel desk.
 It was from Warren. in the code upon which they had long since agreed. The reading of it did not cause Gran ford any pleasurable emotion.
 It announced that his rooms had been entered and papers scattered about. Much good that would do them.
 Still he wired back. See if small morocco notebook is in secres drawer .at side of my shaving dresser; Not one chance ill q million of their stun bling upon tt1ac drawer.
 And yet he was not dealing with or dinary men.
 There were other Empire shaving dressers- The little. worry grew as the h0ura went by. If that notebook was gone. gone likewise would be his oc cupation, for within its covers was the whole story, from the first to the last exploit, together with his 1--5fits.
 Heretofore he had carrl2L it on his person, but the mysterious rifing o1 his luggage in the staterooEn crossinz had made him wary. He cared noth ing for threats or physical encounters and doubtless they knew this. Fe speak in the vern q alar, they were after him where he H~ed.
 Once his occupation became known publicly goodby to many things. Nc money in the world would make up fol toIerab1y well. They would quietly re quest him to resign from his clubs and presently door after door would close in his face
 If he stood out in the open as , hunter of great crirrsnals a detective he would be lauded Tor his work, writ ten up in the magazines, celebrated But deep in the heart of every trav. eIer there abides q smoldering fire, low yet ugly, against all customs-its agents especially, here or abroad
 This rebellion is as old as man. He hates to pay tribute, justly CT un, justly.
 Spy.
 He was that, more, no less. And he faced outlawry because he wanted money, ease. pleasure. idleness. Not one exEenHattng circumstances 1t was the blood of his grandfather crying out in him. For years q clique of men had been smuggling successfully.
 They had brought into the country three or four millions in rare gems The federal authorities had spent thous