Perrysburg journal. (Perrysburg, Wood Co., O. [Ohio]) 186?-1965, 1918-01-24
CHAPTER VIII.
On Board the Wilton,

On Board the Wilton.
A little note was all that was left at
the st. Francis of Isabelle Reade:
Dear Friend John Gilmore:
am running away SO you cannot
shake the truth out of me. would
rather stay and be shaken. You will
never see me again, but shall re-
member you always-always! Your
friend, Isabelle.
She had gone, bag and baggage, be-
fore seven, the clerk told me. had
frightened her away by prying into
her secret, crude brute that l was!
Well, wasn't that just what l wanted?
Hadn't | determined to take her to
the station and start her on the train
out of my life? What had she to do
with my forty-year-old life, anyhow?
She would remember me always,
doubled; that second always" gave
my heart thrill that was outside it's
experience of forty years steady
work. Il would rather stay and be
shaken" God bless her! | wouldn't
shake her; never-either way!
If she had stayed, l would forget the
Wilton, forget Ecuador and adventur-
ing, forget everything but herself, and
/ would make myself reality in her
life, not remembrance, if that were
possible. Too late for anything but
regrets; she was gone.
/ sailed south on the Wilton Satur-
day morning. My suggestion-Mar-
Gus politely said invitation-had been
acted upon, and the detective SER
geant was at the dock to watch me
place enough water between steamer
and shore-line to Illustrate swimming.
The chief had agreed with Edwards
and me that seafaring life was bet
ter for a fractions suspect than forci-
BILE detainer, and Marcus, somewhat
grudgingly, had concurred.
Captain Blake, after he had pried
his ship away from it's dock, gave me
cordial greeting and the stateroom of
a superfluous third officer with the
freedom of the bridge. The Wilton
was a small boat; l was surprised
that my memory of it had been SO de-
fective. 1t had seemed ample in pro-
portions when / was not personally
involved; now l had grave doubts Of
its seagoing ability, and felt l was
taking extreme hazards in trusting
myself aboard.
There were about forty passengers,
the chief steward told me, half of
whom would leave us at California
ports. 1t was not the time of year
for heavy South American travel.
These voyagers were getting arrang-
ed in their staterooms, unpacking
their steamer chairs and fighting for
places at the captains table.
watched Fort FONT disappear in
the haze, then went to my cabin. We
were crossing that disagreeable bit of
water outside the Golden Gate called,
for obvious reasons, the "Potato
Patch" / wasn't i'll, but there was no
certainty of seamanly qualities in me,
and ! preferred to begin the test UNI
der less rigorous conditions. / would
forego luncheon and keep to my berth
for a while.
Late in the afternoon / went on
deck again, 10 find smooth seas and =
warm sun had brought out the major
part of our passengers. and l made a
tour OF investigation to see what fate
had cast me up against. had just be-
gun getting interested when / saw Isa
belle Reade. She was sitting in a
steamer-chair in the lee OF the after
cabin, looking across the water at the
distant shore-line, just as though she
was at Brentas watching the door.
went to her directly, iss Reade,"
! cried, and her eyes came 10 meet
mine with look OF startled surprise,
isn't this the most wonderful hap.
pening."
us it happening? she asked, rising
quickly, her eyes interrogating mine,
not seeing my outstretched hand.
took her hand regardless. ut Is
coincidence-ac actually" | affirmed. II
never guessed-then saw you
have fought fought everybody. even
youto make this "trip on this boat
thinking it was taking me away from
ever seeing you again-and il brought
me TO you. Coincidence? 1t is more
than that. II were Mohammedan
] should now say. 'Kismet!'"
There was still doubt in her face,