Five Mile Beach weekly journal., 1917-05-11

@}Ou uIucIbluuu uOW BULL LuluRS dIG
managed. l happen to know, howev-
er, because it was my business to
know, that Capper left Marseilles for
Malta aboard La Vendee four days
ago. He was not expected to go be-
yond Malta"
Koch caught him up: But the fell
low told me his boat didn't stop at
Malta; was warned by wireless to pro-
ceed at all speed to Alexandria for
fear of the Breslau, known to be In
the Adriatic." Woodhouse spread out
his hands with a gesture of finality.
There you arel Capper finds him
self stranded In Alexandria,; knows
somehow of your position as a man of
the Wilhelmstrasse. Such things can
not be hid from the underground work
ers; here to explain himself to
you and excuse himself for the loss of
his number. Is there anything more
to be said except that we must keep
a close watch on him?"
The physician rose and paced the
room. his hands clasped behind his
back. The automatic bobbed against
the tails of his long coat as he walked.
After a minutes restless striding he
broke his step before the desk, jerked
open the drawer and dropped the
weapon in 1t. Back to where Wood
house was sitting he stalked and held
out his right hand stifiy.
"Your pardon, No. 1882. For my
suspicion l apologize. But you see my
position-a very delicate one" Wood
house rose, grasped the doctors hand
and wrung it heartily.
"And now" he said, ito keep this
fellow Capper in sight until the Prin-
cess Mary sails and I aboard her as
Captain Woodhouse of Wady Halfa.
The man might trip us all up"
"He will not; be sure Of that" Koch
growled, helping Woodhouse into his
coat and leading the way to the fold
ing doors. 81 will have Caesar attend
to him the minute he comes back to re-
port where Capper is stopping"
Until when?" the captain asked,
pausing at the gate, to which Koch had
escorted him.
Here tomorrow night at o." the doc
tor answered, and the gate shut behind
him. Captain Woodhouse, alone under
the shadowing trees of Queens ter
race, drew in a long breath, shook his
shoulders and started for the station
and the midnight train to Alexandria.
Consider the mental state of MI
Billy Capper as he sank into a seat op
the midnight suburban from Ramlek
to Alexandria. Even to the guard,
unused to particular observation of his
propensity for trying to beat their
fares, the bundle of clothes surmOunt-
ed by a rusty brown bowler which
huddled under the sickly light of the
second class carriage bespoke either
a candidate for a plunge off the quay
or a "bloomer" returning from his
~wassailing. But the eyes of the man
denied this latter hypothesis; sanity
was in them, albeit the merciless a n
ity that refuses an alternative when
fate has it's victim pushed into a cor
ner. So submerged was Capper under
the food of his own bitter c~Ogitations
that he had not noticed the other two
passengers boarding the train at the
little tiled station-a tall, quietly dress
ed white mar and a Numidian with a
cloak thrown over his white livery.
The latter had faded like a shadow
into the third class carriage behind
the one In which Capper rode.
Here was Capper-poor old Hardluck
Billy Capper-foored again and just
when the tide of bad fortune was on
the turn; so ran the minor strain of
self pity under the brown bowler. A
failure once more and through no fault
of his own. No, mol Hadn't he been
ready to deliver the goodsf Hadn't he
come all the way down here from Ber-
lin, faithful to his pledge to Louisa, the
girl In the Wilhelmstrasse, ready and
willing to embark on that important
mission of which he was to be told by
DR.. Emil Koch? And what happens?
Koch turns him into the street like a
dog; threatens to have him before the
military as a spy if he doesn't make
himself scarce. Koch refuses even to
admit he'd eve heard of the Wilhelm
strasse. Clever beggar! A jolly keen
eye he's got for his own skin; won't
take a chance on being betrayed into
the hands of the English, even when
he ought to see that a chaps honest
when he m and tells a straight
story about losing that silly little bit
Of paper with his working number on
it. What difference if he can't pro-
duce the ticket whIn he has the num-
Der pat on the tip of his tongue and
is willing to risk his own life to give
that number to a stranger?
Back upon the old perplexity that
had kept Capper's brain on strain ever
since the first day aboard La Vendee-
who had lifted his ticket, and when
was 1t done? The man recalled, for
the hundredth time, his awakening
aboard the French liner. What a hor-
ror that first morning was, with the
ratty little surgeon feeding a fellow