The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1920-11-12
The Red Herring
A SHORT STORY By PERCY JAMES BREBNER
By PERCY JAMES BREBNER


forget it."
1 made no definite promise. My
movements must be regulated by
those of the Bohemian.
The storm sank into grumbling for
a while, but as we approached Paris
it broke out again. Someone sug-
gested that complaint should be made
to the railway authorities, and the
bully was Immediately ferocious.
1--WE will go together, all together,
and will complain that purchase
ticket to travel like a gentleman,
and poof-I am obliged to travel with
the eattle-canaille. Oh, yes, we will
go to them. 1t is very good plan,
and speak my mind. 1t will be very
much l shall have to say"
I'VE must keep out of this" said
the Swede in a low tone. 'Tt would
mean delay. I have business which
must not be delayed. And your"
"I do not intend to be drawn into
the quarrel" I answered.
1--WE must protect each other then
1 have once before had an experience
of this sort, and it was two hours be-
fore l was free to resume my
journey"
Still l made no definite promise, but
I realized this man might help me if
necessary to shake Off the Bohemian.
He was a gdeater menace to me than
my quarrelsome fellow passengers.
In the hustle of the terminus 1
quickly forgot the unpleasant night
journey. My companion and I were
first out of the compartment, leaving
an angry chattering behind us. The
bully seemed to be the centre of a
gesticulating crowd for an instant,
and then 1 lost sight of him. My at
tention was concentrated on the b.
hemian, who was watching me- There
was nothing furtive about him; he
seemed anxious to compel my notice,
and to escape his attention 1 made
use of my companion.
"I am going toward the Bourse,"
said.
"That is my way" he answered.
Here is taxi"
I smiled. If the Bohemian knew
my destination he must realize that
all chance of stopping me from reach
ing the Rue Septembre had gone.
Outside the station there was a
block in the traffic, and our driver
took side street to avoid it. Here,
too, was congestion, and the taxi was
obliged to stop.
''It is all right" said my compan-
ion as I moved to put my head out to
see what was amiss, and the next
moment man on the pavement flung
open the door, and was jerked on
to the floor of the vehicle. l think 1
swore, know hurt myself on hard
corner Of my bag, and then 1 seemed
to fall asleep, that kind of slumber
which comes sometimes in the early
morning, incomplete Inconsistencies.
Rambling sounds were in my ears,
and the sound of laughter 1 thought
and then sense of uneasiness as if
I were turning over and over in vain
endeavor to get into a comfortable
position.
Whether complete consciousness re-
turned soon after this l cannot say.
had neglected to wind up my watch
and it had stopped. 1t was daylight,
gray, and there were rain splashes
on the dirty window which gave.light
to the dirtiest garnet 1 have ever SEEN
The floor was covered with dust, so
was the furniture, consisting of a
rough table and two wooden chairs
with broken backs. l had apparently
been laid on the floor since my
clothes were covered with dust. My
revolver had gone, so had the sealed
envelope. tried the door which was
solid and locked; then 1 went to the
window which 1 found was nailed up.
1 was at the top of high building,
my outlook the blank walls of factor
les and through narrow gap I could
see water-the Seine no doubt. l
thought of putting my fist through the
window and shouting, but reflected
that a demonstration of this kind
would be more likely to attract my
enemies than bring me friends. Not
at first did quite recollect what had
happened, my brain was fuddled as if
l had dined far too wei, and it was
some time before could reconstruct
my doings to the moment when the
taxi had come to a standstill in the
side street. The Swede had certainly
pulled me back, but this might have
been to save me from the assault of
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