The Washington herald., 1920-05-30

closer than ever to the gratings
Of Avernus. Five men were group
ed about the door OF the photo
graph establishment of Keough
and Clancy. Thus. in all the
scorched and exotic places of the
earth, Caucasians meet when the
days work is done to preserve
the fulness of their heritage by
the aspersion of alien things. y
Johnny Atwood lay stretched
upon the grass in the undress
uniform Of a Carib. and prated
feebly OF cool water to be had
in the cucumber-wood pumps of
Dalesburg. DR.. Gregg, through
the prestige of his whiskers and
as q bribe against the relation of
his imminent professional tales.
was conceded the hammock that
was swung between the door
jamb and a calabash-tree- Keogh
had moved out upon the grass
q little table that held the in
strument for Furnishing complet-
ed photographs He was the only
busy one of the group. Industri-
ously from between the cylinders
of the burnisher rolled the I'm
ished depictments of Coralio's
citizens. Blanchard. the French
mining engineer. in his cool linen
viewed the smoke OF his cigarette
through his calm glasses, imper-
vious to the heat Clancy sat on
the steps. smoking his short pipe.
His mood was the gossips'; the
others were reduced, by the hu-
midity, to the state of disability
desirable in an audience.
Clancy was an American with
an Irish diathesis and cosmopoli-
tan proclivities. Many businesses
had claimed him. but not for
long. The roadster's blood was
In his veins. The voice of the
tintype was but one of the many
eslings that had wooed him
upon so many roads. Sometimes
he could be persuaded to oral
construction of his voyages into
the informal and egregious. To-
night there were symptoms of
diyulgement in him.
-Tis elegant weather for fill
busterin'," he volunteered 1T
reminds me of the time I strug-
Eled to liberate a nation from
the poisonous breath of a tyrant's
clutch Twas hard work. 'Tis
strainin' to the back and makes
corns on the hands"
Il didn't know you had ever
lent your sword to an oppressed
people" murmured Atwood, from
the grass.
Il did" said Clancy; "and they
turned it into a ploughshare."
What country was so for
tunate as to secure your aid?"
airrly inquired Blanchard.
Where's Kamchatka?" asked
Clancy. with seeming irrelevance
why, off Siberia somewhere
in the Artic regions" somebody
answered, doubtfully.
Il thought that was the cold
one" said Clancy, with a salts
fed nod. I'm always gettin' the
two names mixed. Twas Guate-
mala, then-the hot one-I've
been flibusterin' with. Ye'll find
that country on the map. 'Tis
in the district known as the
tropics By the foresight of
Providence. it lies on the coast
so the geog1 Apply man could run
the names of the towns off into
the water. They're an inch long.
small type, composed of Spanish
dialects, and. tits my opinion. of
the same system of syntax that
blew up the Maine Yes, twas
that country I sailed against,
single-handed. and endeavored to
Hberate it from a tyrannical gov
ernInent with a single-barreled
pickaxe. unloaded at that. Ye
don't understand, of course. 'Tis
a statement demandin' elucida-
ton and apologies.
Twas in New Orleans one
morning about the first of June:
was standing down on the
wharf. lookin' about at the ships
in the river. There was a little
steamer moored right opposite
me that seemed about ready to
sail The tunnels of it were
throwin' out smoke. and a gang
of roustabouts were carryin'
aboard a pile of boxes that was
stacked up on the wharf. The
boxes were about two feet
square. and somethin' like four
feet long. and they seemed to
be pretty heavy.
Il walked over. careless, to the
stack of boxes. 1 saw one of
them had been broken in handIin.'
Twas curiosity made me pull up
the loose top and look inside.
The box was packed full of
Winchester rifles. so, So says
to myself; somebody's gettin'
a twist on the neutrality laws.
Somebody's adm with munitions
Of war. wonder where the
popguns are goin'?'
I heard somebody cough, and
turned around. There stood a
little fat man with brown
face and white clothes, a first
class-looking little man. with a
four-karat diamond on his finger
and his eye full of interrogations
and respects. I judged he was
kind of foreigner-maybe from
Russia or Japan or the archi-
pelagoes.
Histr says the round man.
FULL of concealments and conf
dences. Will the senior respect
the discoveryments he has made.
that the mans on the ship shall
not be acquaint? The senior will
be gentleman that shall not
expose one thing that by acci-
dent Occur
Monseer,' says for 1 judg-
ed him to be a kind of French
man-recefve my most exasper-
ated assurances that your secret
Is safe with James Clancy. Fur
thermore, will go so far as to
remark Veev la Liberty-veev it
good and strong. Whenever Won
haar - q C1.-