The daily Alaskan., 1922-07-29
CHAPTER XVIII.
The Watch Upon the Beach.

The Watch Upon the Beach.
 Constance was thrGbbing with deter mlnutlon and action. as she found her purse and counted the money in It. She never In her life hnd gone alone upon an extended Journey. much less been alone upon a train overnight If she SnOse of such thing now. she would he prevented: no occasion for lt would be recognized; she would not be allowed to go. even if "properly &C., comuauIed." She could not. there fore. risk taking n handbag from the house; so she thrust nightd"css and toilet articles into her muif and the roomy pocket of her fur cout. She de. seconded tO the side door of the house, gniurd the street and turned west ward at the first corner to street car which would take her to the rail way station.
 The manner Of buying a railway ticket and of engaging a berth were unknown 10 hcr-there had been serv- ants always to do these thinEs-hut she watched others and did as they dld She procured a telegraph blank and wrote message to her mother, telling her that she had gone north to ioin her father. When the train had started. she gave the message to the porter. directing him Co send 1t from the first large town at which they stopped,
 Constance could not, as yet place Henry's part In the strange circum' stances which had begun to reveal themselves with Alan's coming to Chi- Cugo; but Henry's hope that Uncle Benny and Alan were deUd was begin ming 10 make that clearer. She lay without voluntary movement In her berth, but her bosom was shaking with the thoughts which came to her.
 Twenty years before, some dreadful event had altered Uncle Benny's life; his wife had knOwn-Or had learned enough of that event so that she had left him. It had seemed to Constance and her father, therefore, thnt It must have been some Intimate and private event.
 Uncle Benny had withdrawn him self from men; he had ceased to be active In his business and delegated 1t 70 others. This change had been strangely advantageous to Henry. Henry had been hardly more than common seaman then. He had been mate-the mate on one of Uncle Ben ny's ships. Quite suddenly he had become Uncle Benny's partner. Henry had explained this to her by saying that Uncle Benny had not trusted Henry; he had been suspicious of him: he had quarreled with him. How strange then, that Uncle Benny should have advanced and given way to a man whom he could not trustl
 Uncle Benny had come to her and warned her not to marry Henry; then he had sent for Alan, There had been purpose in these acts of Uncle Ben ny's; had they meant that Uncle Ben ny had been on the verge of making explanatiOu-that explanation which Henry fearCd--and that he had been prevented? Her father had thought this; at least he had thought that Uncle Benny must have left some eX- planatlon In his house. He had told Alan that, and had given Alan the key to the house so that he could find It. Alan had gone to the house.
 In the house Alan had found some one who had mistaken him for ghost, a man who had rried out at sight of him something about a ship about the Mlwaka, the ship of whose loss no one had known anything ex- cent by the sOundings of The Drum. What had the man been doing !l the