The Clio messenger. (Clio, Mich.) 1907-current, 1915-12-10

men wei drop MIN over without any
palavering, unless our clericallooking
castaway has the burial service at sea
by heart"
By this time he had swung around
and was facing me.
You're a preacher, aren't your" he
asked.
The hunters-there were six OF
them-to man, turned and regarded
me. ! was painfully aware of my like
ness to scarecrow. A laugh went up
at my appearance-a laugh that was
not lessened or softened by the dead
man stretched and grinning on the
deck before us; laugh that was
as rough and harsh and frank as the
sea itself; that arose out of coarse
feelings and blunted sensibilities, from
natures that knew neither courtesy
nor gentleness.
Wolf Larsen did not laugh, though
his gray eyes lighted with a light CLINT
of amusement; ana in that moment.
having stepped forward quite close to
him, received my first impression OF
the man himself. The face. the jaw.
the chin the brow. rising to a goodly
height and swelling heavily above the
eyes-these. while strong in them
selves, unusually strong. seemed to
speak an immense vigor or virility of
spirit that lay behind and beyond and
out of sight
The eyes. wide apart as the true
a MI CHI
heavy brow and arched over by thick.
black eyebrows, were of battling, pro.
team gray which was never twice the
same; they were eyes that masked
the soul with thousand guises.
But to return. | told him that, un.
happily for the burial service, was
not preacher when he sharply de.
manded:
What do you do for a living?"
| confess | had never had such q
question asked me before. nor had
ever canvassed it. | was quite taken
aback, and before | could find myself
had Silly stammered. IL am a gen
tleman."
His lip curled in swift sheer.
IL have worked, do work." cried
impetuously, as though he were my
Judge and required vindication. and
at the same time very much aware o.
my arrant idiocy in discussing the sub
iect at all.
For your living?"
There was something so imperative
and masterful about him that | was
quite beside myself-"rattled," as Flu.
ruseth would have termed It, like
quaking child before a stern school.
master.
who feeds your" was his next
question.
81 have an income" answered
stoutly, and could have bitten my
tongue the next instant. "All of which
you will pardon my observing, has
nothing whatsoever to do with what !
wish to see you about.
But he disregsrded my protest
who earned it? Eli? thought So
Your father. You stand on deadmen's
legs. You've never had any of your
own. You couldn't walk alone be
tween two sunrises and hustle the
meat for your belly for three meals
Let me see your hand"
His tremendous. dormant strength
rately, or | must have slept a moment
for before | knew 1t he had stepped
two PAGES forward. gripped my right
hand in his, and held 1t up for inspec.
ton. / tried to withdraw ii, but his
fingers frightened. without visible eff.
fort, till | thought mine would be
crushed, when he dropped 1t with a
firt of disdain.
Dead mems hands have kept It soft.
Good for little else than dish-washing
and scullion work"
81 wish to be put ashore" ! said
firmly, for | now had myself In control.
81 shall pay you whatever you Judge
your delay and trouble to be worth"
He looked at me curiously. Mock
cry shone in his eyes.
Il have a counter-proposition to
make, and for the good of your soul.
My mates gone, and there'1l be lot
of promotion. A sailor comes aft to
take mates place. cabin-boy goes for
ard to take sailors place. and you
take the cabin-boy's place, sign the ar
ticles for the cruise, twenty dollars
per month and found. Now what do
you say? And. mind you. it's for your
own souls sake. 1t will be the max.
ing of you. You might learn in time
to stand on your own legs and perhaps
to toddle along a bit"
But | took no notice. The sails of
the vessel | had seen off to the south.
west had grown larger and palmer
They were of the same schooner rig
as the Ghost. though the hull itself.
| could see. was smaller.
THAT vessel will soon be passing
u.s. ! said. after moments pause.
"As she is going in the opposite d.
rection, she Is very probably bound for
San Francisco
{. Very probably" was Wolf Larsens
answer, as he turned partly away from
me and cried out. "Cookyi Oh.