The Mount Holly news. [volume] (Mount Holly, Burlington Co., N.J.) 1891-1942, 1917-07-17

PAULINE D. EDWARDS !
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Jarvis 1ourneyed from the little rail-
road station in brightly painted stage
drawn by two iron gray horses. He
was the only passenger for the beach,
and he shook about in the huge vehi-
Gle like the proyerbial pea in a barrel.
At the entrance to a narrow sandy
lane shaded by wind blown cedars,
under which the marsh grass struggled
sparsely, the stage stopped.
"All outp sang the driver Justify.
"Goin' to the beach, We said?" He
peered down at Jarvis with beady
black eyes beneath matches of white
eyebrows.
Eyes; Edgewater cottage Straight
aheadT Jarvis asked the question
while he threw his luggage to the
ground and paid his fare
"Edgewater cottage? That II be the
Rowe place, last cottage on the left.
So longw
muCu VDllkeu. CfOOuDy T.
Jarvis turned to the left and walked
slowly down to the beach, his head
barred to the fresh breeze, his lungs
gratefully inhaling the invigorating
salt air.
The last cottage proved to be a rath-
er large structure placed not far be-
yond high water mark. It's shingles
were weather beaten to silver gray,
and the many windows tightly shut
tered looked like closed eyes in sad
face. 1t seemed desolate enough COM
pared to the other coy houses along
the beach, but Jarvis decided after a
hasty examination that when he got
out some porch furniture and opened
up the shutters the cottage he had hired
would be fit enough for his purposes.
The rusty key he had obtained from
the agent creaked In the lock, and the
door swung open, admitting him to
large comfortably furnished rooms.
His first duty was to throw wide the
shutters and raise the window sashes
to the fresh air. Except for layer of
dust over everything the house was In
exquisite order Of arrangement. He
decided to sleep In the wire inclosed
balcony, and as he had arranged by
letter for his meals to be sent In from
the hotel on the long point beyond
there was little for him to do save to
arrange a cot in the balcony and I'M
pack his painting things.
At sunset steam launch from the
hotel discharged boy with a basket
containing his dinner. Jarvis discussed
the excellent meal on the veranda his
artists eye lingering on the wide sweep
Of green and blue fecked with white
that filed the foreground
Here were color and life enough to
linn any number Of canvases. Jarvis
was glad he had decided to close his
studio and run away from all his
friends, and the chance that brought
him to Beachside had been decided by
the childish method of closing his eyes
and running his finger along the map
of New Jersey while he counted ten
Then he had opened his eyes and
found Beachside, most inconspicuous
Of small watering places. under his
niger. Now ne was here.
He smoked thoughtful cigar while
the sunset tints faded to opal and sill
yer and then a uniform slate gray set
tied over the water.
The cigar consumed, Jarvis felt for
another one in vain. His cigar case
was empty; also he had forgotten his
tobacco pouch. He fingered his pipe
wistfully and rummaged his traps for
tobacco of some sort. In sheer des-
peration he carried his tallow candle
there was no kerosene in the cottage)
from room to room In an aimless
search for nicotine.
At last he whistled Joyously. On a
small stand in one corner of the living
room he found smoking set of ham,
mered brass. The huge tobacco jar
contained few pinches of the desired
weed, and he crammed it into his pipe
gratefully.
Now he closed the door and locked it
and went up to his balcony. He threw
himself down on the cot and smoked
contentedly, dreamily. Overhead was
the shine of gentle stars, and on the
beach the waves broke softly, must
cally. He went to sleep.
Jarvis was awakened by a crashing
volley of thunder, followed by vivid
flash Of lightning. He sat up and
gazed open mouthed at the strange
scene depicted before his eyes.
There was all the wild fury of a
hurricane bursting about his ears.
Huge waves pounded on the beach, /
breaking in binding spray that drench-
ed his face. Some dark shape doomed
out Of the blackness, coming nearer.
He discerned the outlines Of large
white steamer, saw dark forms tossed
against her whiteness, heard the blare
of her distress signals, saw her careen
on the shoals and become engulfed In
the sea. Still the waves broke ON the
beach, and in their tossing they flung
O dark form on the white sand beneath
the balcony.
Jarvis tried to rise, but his limbs
seemed paralyzed. He endeavored to
utter sound, but his lips were dumb.
He could only sit there on his couch
wildly conscious of tragedy heaped on
tragedy, powerless to help.
Another wave rose high crested,
curved downward and greedily snatch
ed the still dark form from the sands,
drew 1t out into the seas bosom and
kept It
HorriRed, the painter stared down at
the beach, now conscious that the ST.
lent form had left something behind,
small dark object whose outlines were
lost In the darkness Then the waves
came again and again, sucking up the
sand and piling it over and about the
dark object until 1t was entirely hid
den from view.
With appalling suddenness the storm
vanished as If 1t had never been. Over
head the stars shone gently, and the
waves softly Tapped the quiet beach.
Jarvis found his motive power as If
magieRlly restored. With a leap he
was off the cot and dashing down the
stairs to the sand. There he stood
dumfounded.
To the touch Of his stoclinged feet
the sand was warm and dry Hts
cropping fingers confirmed that fact.
The tide was rising, and almost to its
verge the sand showed no trace Of
dampness. The sea stretched level
expanse, broken here and there by dim
ping wavelets.
I'm be hanged If 1 know what to
make of it." muttered Jarvis dazedly
Il couldn't have been dreaming, and
yet He looked at his watch. "It's