The Butler County press. [volume] (Hamilton, Ohio) 1900-1946, 1930-11-14
A Cruise for
Love
BY LEETE STONE

CocH olhcr tHdt tuey c0uI0 just
clear with the shifting of the tides
In shimmering, moon-clad bay, float
ed two crafts. portraiture of ironic
contrast. One was the palatial steam
yacht, Versailles, the pleasure hobby
or young Gregory Anson, who was u.s.
Ing his youth to poke the lissome prov
of his pet into all unfamiliar ports
that dotted the seven seas. The other
was long squat lumber scow, recent
ly free of a load of cypress from some
southern port.
Gregory had guests for dinner this
night. From the open portfolios of the
dining salon floated gay laughter, seri-
Gus talk and the cOngenial, warming
clink of fragile glasses. In addition to
two chums, his fance and her mother,
who were making the cruise with him,
there were on board famous por-
trait painter and a noted engineer.
All but Gregory and Iona Lascelles
were lingering at table.
These two had excused themselves
and were up above leaning against
the bridge rail.
You're very silent not like
yourself at all tonight, Lona," Gregory
finally murmured
Whats the matter, old girl? You
know | love you; know I'll do every
thing to make you happy-why, we've
grown up together! You ought to know
me by this time
iY1c% hA
| do know you. Oh-I'm foolish
fdealist, of course. | love you, and
you're everything want except
-. except that you've never earned
dollar In your life You've never
worked, fought, striven for anything
you wanted in your life-not even me.
| fell into your arms like a ripe apple
because-well. because you are, ador-
able; but Greg, I've always dreamed
of marrying man who, If he had to,
could make his way without dollar
to start with. Greg, dear, If you knew
women little better | think you'd
understand Sorry if seem to hurt
you. A womans got to do more than
just love a man; she's got to look up
to limits her nature''
"Yes, Lonal | understand. While
you were talking | wanted to give you
a good shaking; just as l used to do
when you filched candy out of my
pockets at school. But got a sudden
fash at your viewpoint And / guess
you're right, Iona. I've never earned
dollar; never even traded pocket
knives when | was a kid. Exercised
the golden spoon, sure enough. Well,
old girl, this ought to be remedied.
There must be way. Have you any
suggestions? Because, you see, you
mean SO much to me that I don't want
you unless | can have every bit of
you; love, respect, understanding; the
whole business that goes with the
right kind of marriage"
"By Jove! What portrait!" A
deep voice from behind them ex-
claimed. 1t was Weyman Harris, the
painter. He stood gazing over the
opposite bridge rail at the squat scow,
evidently having just come up on the
deck
Hardly hundred feet away,
squarely etched in bright moonlight,
rose the boxlike little cabin of the
scow with its one dark window. Sit
ting in a nondescript chair tilted back
against the wall of the cabin was
man; young man, sound asleep. A
man whose every rugged feature,
clearly visible, bore the stamp of toll
and strife. One knew that those
closed eyes had sailed many seas and
had seen them from the struggler's
angle.
Weyman Harris stepped quickly to
the paneled wall of the wheelhouse,
thumbtacked a tiny sheet to it, and
was at once immersed in sure, rapid
pencil strokes; turning his head every
second to look at the model
Greg and Iona still remained in
rapt contemplation.
"Yes, my lads; it's worth a try"
came finally from Greg in what must
have been an unconscious whisper.
What did you say, Gregg"
Gregory did not reply. He lit
cigarette, withdrawn with elaborate
care from gold case; put four
fingers in his mouth, from which at
once there issued shrill~and pierc-
ing whistle. The sleeper, a hundred
feet away, jumped from his chair as
if he had been shot and looked about
him warily.
"Say, friend" Gregory called clear
ly. "Come over a moment, please. 1
want to see YOU
A few moments later, having rowed
over in the scow's little punt, the stall
wart sailor stood on the bridge facing
Greg and Iona.
"Yes, sirl' he said expectantly.
who's your chief over there?" from
Greg.
Captain Janson, sir. Hes ashore"
well, laddybuck; you've got new
job at hundred month and keep
You're going to report to my captain
at once and get a suit of whites. Deck
hand on the Versailles-six months
cruise"
"D'you mean 1t, sir why,
that's-that's twice what | get on the
barge ah, but say; can't leave
the old man fat y'know."
That's all fixed. I'm taking your
place. When he comes back he'll find
me and I'll square you"
Gregory Anson turned to Iona, and
there was that in his eyes that thrilled
her. Iona, fix this boy up with Cap
tain Smith. I'll see you sometime,
somewhere-just now I'm going to
work for you y And Grepnrv started