Tensas gazette. [volume] (St. Joseph, La.) 1886-current, 1918-04-05

and sore. This brought to mind the
| fight on the hurricane deck, and he
smiled. 1t hurt every time he twiched
| q muscle.
The young man stepped to the look
ing glass. Both eyes were BACKED. his
lip had been cut, and there was a
purple veal well up on his left cheek.
He stopped himself from grinning only
| Just in time to save another twinge of
pain.
"Some party while it lasted. never
saw more willing mixers. Everybody
seemed anxious to sit in except Mr..
Wally Selfridge," he explained to his
reflection. "But Macdonald is the
class. He's there with both right and
left. That uppercut of his Is vicious.
Don't ever get in the way Of it. Cor
don Elliot"
He bathed, dressed and went on
deck.
Early though he was, one passen-
ger Mt least was up before him. The
young woman he had noticed last eve
ming with the magazine was doing
constitutional.
Irish he guessed her when the deep
blue eyes rested on his for an instant
as she passed, and fortified his cOnjec-
ture by the cOloring Of the clear
skinned face and the marks Of the Gel
tic race delicately stamped upon it.
The purser came out of his room and
Joined Elliot. He smiled at sight Of
the young mans face. "YOur maps
q little out of plumb this morning, sir"
he ventured.
"But you ought to see the other fel-
low" came back Gordon bOyishly.
"rye seen him-several of him. I've
got to give it to you and Mr.. MacdOn-
aid. You know how to hit"
"Oh. I'm not in his class"
Gordon Elliot meant what he said.
He was himself an athlete, had played
for three years left tackle on his COL
lege eleven, More than one critic had
picked him for the All-America team.
But after all he was product of train
ing and of the gymnasiums. MacdOn-
aid was what nature and long line
of fighting Highland ancestors had
made him.
The purser chuckled. 'He's q good
I'M. Mac is. They say he liked to have
drowned NOrthrup after he had saved
him."
Elliot was again following with his
ewes the Tilt of the girls movements.
Apparently he had not heard what the
officer said.
With q grin the purser opened an
other attack. Don't blame you a bit,
Mr.. Elliot. She's the prettiest colleen
that ever sailed from Dublin bay"
"Who is she?"
"The name on the books is Sheba
O'Neill."
"From Dublin, you say?"
"Oh. If you want to be literal, her
baggage says Drogheda. Ireland is
Ireland to me-"
"Where is she bound for?"
"Kusiak."
The young woman passed them with
little nod of morning greeting to the
was, Miss O'Neill gave an impression
of radiant strength.
"What is she going to do in KusiakT'
Again the purser grinned. "What do
they all dO-the good-loOking ones"
Get married. you mean?"
"Surest thing you know. Girls COM
ing up ask me what to bring by way
Of outfit. l used to make out long
list. Now l tell them to bring clothes
enough for six weeks and their favor
lite wedding march,"
as this girl engagedw
Cant Prove 1t by me-" said the Of
flcer lightly. But she'll never get out
Of Alaska a spinster-nOt that girl.
She may be going In to teach, or to run
a millinery store. or to keep books for
a trading company. She'll stay to
bring up kiddies Of her own. They all
do"
Three children came up the stair.
way, caught sight Of Miss O'Neill, and
raced pell-mell across the deck to hsr.