Rural Retreat times. [volume] (Rural Retreat, Va.) 1892-1918, 1915-07-23
Copyright, 1914, by Harold MacGrathl


by Harold MacGraSh)
The code was TeaiIy Slav; and when
the long message was signed it was
signed by the name Vroon.
The day after the news came that
Florence had jumped overheard off
the banks, Vroon with dozen other
men had started out to comb all the
fishing villages along the New Eng
land coast. Somewhere along the way
he felt confident that he would learn
whether the girl was dead or alive,
If she was dead then the game was s.
draw, but If she was alive thera..was
still a fighting chance for the Black
Hundred. He had had some idea Of re-
naming in the village and accomplish
ing the work himself; but after DELHI
Grafton he concluded that it was i'm
portant enough for Braine himself to
take hand in. So the following night
he departed for Boston, from there, to
New York. He proceeded at once to
the apartment Of the princess, where
Braine declared that he himself would
go to the obscure village and claim
Florence as his own child But to
insure absolute success they would
charter Morse's yacht and steam right
up into the primitive harbor.
When Vroon left the apartment Nor
ton saw him. He was man of i'm
pulses, and he had found by expert
ence that first impulses are generally
the best. He did not know who Vroon
was. Any man who called on the
Princess Perigoff while Braine was
with her would be worth following.
On the other hand, Vroon recognized
the reporter instantly and with that
ever-ready and alert mind of his set
about to lure the young man into
trap out of which he might not easily
come.
Norton decided to follow his man.
He might be going on wild-goose
chase, he reasoned; still his first i'm
pulses had hitherto served him we'll
he looked careWorn. He was con-
vinced that Florence was dead, despite
the assertions of Jones to the con-
trary. He had gone over all the mis-
haps which had taken place and he
was now absolutely convinced that his
whilom friend Braine and the Princess
Perigoff were directly concerned
Florence had either been going to
or coming from the apartment And
that memorable day Of the abduction
the princess had been in the dry goods
shop.
Vroon took downtown surface car,
and Norton took the same He sat
huddled in a corner, never suspecting
that Vroon was watching him from a
corner of his eye. Norton was not
keen today. The thought of Florence
kept running through his head.
The car stopped and Vroon got off.
He led Norton winding course which
at length ended at the door of tene-
ment building. Vroon entered Nor
ton paused, wondering what next to
do, now that his man had reached his
destination. Well, since he had fol-
lowed him all this distance he must
make an effort to find out who he was
and what he was going to do. eau
tlously he entered the hallway. AS
he was about to lay his hand on the
newell post of the dilapidated stairs
the floor dropped from under his feet.
and he was precipitated into the cellar.
This tenement belonged to the
Black Hundred; it concealed a thou
sand doors and hundred traps. It's
history was as dark as it's Railways.
When Vroon and his companion,
who had been waiting for him, de-
scended into the cellar they found the
reporter insensible. They bound, blind
folded, and gagged him quickly.
Saunders" said Vroon, you tell
Corrigan that I've a sailor for him to-
night, and that l want this sailor
booked for somewhere south of the
equator. Tell him to say to the mas
ter that this fellow is ugly and DISC
bedient. A tramp freighter whose
captain Is bully. Do you understand
me?"
I I get you. But there's no need to
go to Corrigan this trip. Bannock is
In port and sails tonight for Norway.
That's far enough
hammock? The very man. Well,
MT. Norton, reporter and amateur de-
tectiye. I guess we've got you fast
enough this time. You may or may
not come back alive. Go and bring
around a. taxi; some one you can
trust III dope the reporter while
you're gone.
Long hours afterward Norton
opened his aching eyes. He could hard
ly move and his head buzzed abomi-
nably. What had happened? What
was the meaning of this slow rise and
fall of his bed? Shanghaied?
Come out o. that now, We skulk-
er!" roared a voice down the COM
panionway.
/ "Shanghaied!" the reporter MUIR
INJURED. He sat up and ran through
his pockets. Not sou-markee, not a
match even; and second glance told
him that the clothes he wore we're not
his own. They've landed me this
time. Shanghaied! What the devil
am l going to do?"
Dye hear me?" bawled the stri-
| dent vOieA again