The silver state. [volume] (Winnemucca, Nev.) 1909-1925, 1917-05-05
TX.


Good old town I" said Peter Trait.
Removing his hat, he saluted Town
with grave and affectionate respect.
Graft and all, it's one human young
city,"
Intuition enabled Lydia to interpret
this utterance as the invocation to the
litany Of your tried but true Manhat-
tanite.
The Alsatia was trudging sedately
up the bay from the Narrows, Quaran-
tine ten minutes astern, New York
looming over the port bow through a
tenderly irisated haze In whose illu-
sion 1t became a city of mOther-of-
pearl suspended between the blue of
~haze-veiled sky and the blue of confiu-
ent waters.
Arthur Rackham must have colored
It," Lydia unused aloud.
"Wait-this is only the overture
wait till you see 1t as l mean to show
1t to you-bridlepaths in Central park
Of a sunny morning, Broadway at night
with a full head of steam on, South
street at noon with the old sailing
ships asleep In the u and their fore
feet up on the sidewalk, Fifth avenue
at evening, lights like big pearls pop
ping out through the purple dusk
0~stentatiously drawing a handker-
chief from his cuff, Peter mopped his
brows. beg pardon. Being poetical
under forced draft Is a bit exhaust
Ing"
"Your prose isn't anything to boast
of. Henry James at his most AFRO
CANT was never nor unintelligible."
"Oh, you'll wise up to 1t quick
enough. But mind there'n be nothing
doing in the poetry line after we're
married. I know my limitations, and
I couldn't stand the pace"
Here an apologize steward caught
Peters eye. beg pardon, Mr.. Trait,
but you're wanted In the dining sa-
loon to acknowledge your declara-
ton"
Thanks" said Peter sulkily. II
presume it's got to be tended to. You,
too, Miss Craven"
"But I've already made my acknowl-
edgment, Mr.. Trait. I'm SO sorry"
81 wish l could believe you were 7"
said Peter vindictively, and went a mo-
rose way without her.
He would have been less downcast
could he have guessed how soon the
girl was to miss him. Alone and with
out distraction, imagination was bag
ridden by the care of that wretched
puzzle box. 1t was still safe In her
possession-that was the worst of 1t !
Nevertheless, she had as yet said
nothing to Craven about the attack
in the fog, fearing lest he might insist
resuming charge Of the puzzle box /;
and so, perhaps. put himself in the
way Of some perils more vital even
than that which had befallen her. And
her father was all she hadl
When they were free to stream
down the gangway to the pier Craven,
consigning Lydia to the care of Peter
Trait, rushed Off to commander the
first available customs inspectors for
himself and Mrs. Merrilees. So that
Ii was Peter who piloted Lydia to
G section, hunted up her trunk, and
took her place in the rank at the
chief inspectors desk; with the re-
suit that the luggage of IL. Carteret.
Spinster," was quickly passed, and,
Peter reluctantly leaving her to pass
his own impedimenta, she was at lib
erty to garner what diversion she
might from the trials Of others.
In that section her father was duti-
fully but perspiringly In optimistic
endeavor to persuade his particular
inspector that he hadn't perjured him.
self In his sworn declaration. Motto
ing Lydia's indignant interest, Craven
paused only long enough to lift a fur
tive eyebrow and draw down the cor
ners of his mouth, thus signifying a
conviction that his troubles were
wholly due to the pernicious interfer'
ence of his political antagonists, even
as predicted.
She returned the least Of mods. In
dicating that the puzzle box was
safe--as II was. In her suede handbag
which, dangling from her wrist by It's
leather strap, had quite escaped the
attention of the inspector.
Then, remembering Craven's hint
that II would be well not to attract
too much attention to their relation
ship until clear of the customs, the girl
turned way to kill time until her
father should be free.
over the way. In Section B, Lydia
found Mrs. Beggarstaff, surrounded
by an array of luggage to do credit
to an army corps. light of battle III
har aves words of bitter wit upon her