Nebraska Newspapers

    THE USE FOR A MAN
By OWEN OLIVER
Illustrated by CHARLES ARCIERl
FRANKDAND had knocked about
the reckless parts of the English
■peaking world till at the age of
35.
Then he took refuge in Moroceo
over a matter of man-killing. True
the man deserved to be killed, but the
English law against murder is not
appeased by. such considerations.
Tt would never have caught him in
Morocco, however, but for a matter
"f a super-sheik’s sister or wife.
Frankland did not know which. The
Kuper sheik sought for him diligently
enough, and would have caught him
In Morocco. So Frankland came down
to Hajnba, the queer little port, Tunis
way, and gave himself up at the
English residency, to be sent home
« for trial for his prior offense, the
lesser of the evils which threatened
him.
The resident was greatly embar
»• rassed by the presence of the huge,
Moorish-clad fugitive within his gates
and of the super-sheik and his wild
follqprers and the snarling local mob
without.
“It is touch and go whether they’ll
lespeet the residency," he told the
rrisoner. “I don't care for myself,
but—dash it all!—I’ve my sister here."
“If they threaten to attack your
place," Frankland said, "I'll give my
self up, of course; but I think they’ll
respect the old flag.”
They did respect it, and merely
urged legal and diplomatic reasons
foi\ the surrender of the prisoner to
them. The consul resisted these ar
guments firmly. The man was a
JBiitish subject, he stated, and he
held him for trial for a British of
fense—and he had already Marconi
graphed for the liner Armadillo to
call In and take him home.
"But in England," the super-sheik
protested almost tearfully, "they only
hang.”
"That Is about the size of hts
deserts,” the resident retorted. He
said as much to his siqter, who had
come out to Hajaba to keep house for
him, and to one Davis, who had come
out after the sister.
Davis agreed but hla sister de
murred. "He was ready to give him
self up rather than endanger us.” she
protested. "There ought to he a bet
ter use than hanging for a man like
that.”
"Perhaps.” Davis sneered. "Those
big, fair ruffians have an extraordi
nary attraction for women.” Davis
was only five feet seven.
"Naturally,” she said calmly. “He
is big and fair; a very handsome man,
and brave. From what I hear from
I.ucy Green, he only did what a man
would do, a real man. He is that, I
think."
"Anyhow," Davis snarled, "he will
hang.”
That was when the resident's sister
made up her mind that Frankland
should not hang. If she could pre
vent It.
She spoke to her brother first
about the subject.
“After all,” she observed, "he's a
fell&w Englishman; and Lucy Green
wrote that It was a fair duel, and
with a man who said things shout his
mother; and they do fight In the
colonies—the wild parts of them.”
"It wasn't In a sufficiently wild
part,” the resident commented. That
was his mistake. I’m dashed if I
•-blame the beggar much; but I don't
"make the law. Beatrice.”
"I suppose you wouldn’t be sorry If
he escaped?" she Inquired.
“Nowhere to escape to," the resi
dent observed. "He Isn't such a fool
as to leave sanctuary. Don't you be
a fool.”
She spoke next to her most trusted
Moorish handmaiden. The hand
maiden considered It • woeful pity
that such a fine man should hang; but
that, she thought, was better than
falling Into the hands of the super
sheik. There was certainly no escape
from Hajaba, she assured her mis
tress. The sheik and his friends were
watching everywhere. There was a
cordon around the residency, no less
real because unobtrusive.
Then It was that the consul’s sister
resolved upon a desperate expedient—
an appeal to Davis, whom she always
expected to manage. •
“I am sorry I hit you on the raw
upon the matter of height, Ivor,” she
said with a friendly laugh: "but you're
too big to bear malice. I look upon
your chivalrous nature as seven feet!
Really, that efiap Is a fellow English
man, you know! Don't you think—?"
Davis looked at her, and thought;
A wild-minded woman; possibly cap
ible of throwing him over for this
wicked fair giant, but the giant
couldn’t get away; So he might as
well preserve Beatrice’s Idea of his
chivalry by assisting him to try!
"If It's a matter of disguises, or
• anything of that sort,” he said slowly,
"IH speak to him, If you like."
"Tou ought not to have anything to
,lo with him." Davis objected. "TheyTl
be watching. Most of these dirty beg
gars hanging about outside the ggr
lens will he spies of th# sheik. If
they see you talking to him, they’ll
watch you.”
•'It will be a good thing to araw
suspicion to me, if you are going to
lie the one to do It.” she countered.
"Obviously you mustn't tslk to him.
So I must, because there’* no one
else.”
The talk occurred that afternoon.
They had put th# fugitive in an out
house In the residency gardens, un
guarded, because it meant capture by
the sheik to atep outside. The resi
dent's elster walked In the garden
while her brother and Davie were
having their siesta, passed down the
walk between the giant cactuses snd
enormous plantains, Into the little
grove which stood before th# outcast's
hut; stalked on paat It, with her
haughty little head In the air, ready
to be spoken to and to snub. He did
not speak, Just rose and bowed and
sat down again and went on with his
cigaret, leaning against the door post,
of tlie hut, and gazing through half
dosed eyes at the blue bay and tlie
blue waters beyond, which merged
into the blue sky. It was a day, he
wai thinking, most repugnant to
hanging—and the resident'# *later
looked like a goddeas against the sky.
A woman with a burning volcano
under that cool white drill!
.She walked bark presently; looked
at him; half passed; stopped. "How
did you come to this?” she asked
abruptly.
"You probably know as well as I,"
lie suggested. "No doubt your brother
hss told you tlie sheik's account. I
expect you may take that as pretty
eorrect.'-’
"I think ha kept some back," aha
remarked shrewdly. "That wasn't
what I referred to, however. What,
precisely, are you going to be sent
to England for?"
Frankland set hla teeth and looked
up at her then; and she had a little
thrill of fear of him. In her Ideal of
six-foot manhood there had always
been a thrill like that! Davis was a
good man and well-to-do, but he did
not make her feel like that. “I have
not," Frankland said quietly, "many
days to look at the blue sea, and the
blue sky, or to bask In the sun. Boon
it will be a prison cell, and afterward
another, or, anyway—'Deft the warm
precincts of the cheerful day.’ You
learned that at school, I suppose. One
doesn’t appreciate It, until It Is Inter
preted by circumstances. Why should
your curiosity disturb one of my
measured moments by raking up bad
memories?”
"Because, perhaps,” she told him.
"it Isn’t only curiosity.” He looked
very hard at her then.
"If," he said, “you have a kindly
thought that I might escape—? Dis
guises and all that—? Kind lady, It
Is no use. The place Is closely
watched. I probably shouldn’t go
60 yards before being seized. Even
if I did, a stranger In any of the vil
lages round here would be noted and
detected at once. There Is no escape;
but I thank you ter the thought."
"You assume that I had the
thought," she remarked. She fanned
her face with her handkerchief. He
picked a fanlike plantain leaf and
gave It to her.
"You had,” he said. Hadn't you?”
"I could have found you disguises,”
she murmured, "If that had been any
use."
"Again I thank you," he acknowl
edged. "They would not be of use:
and 10 to 1 those who furnished
them to you would at once warn my
friend, the sheik. Do you know, I
am very grateful—very grateful.”
“And you won't tell me about—
It?" she asked.
Oh" he said. "That!" I met a
man out from England, who said
things of my mother, In years past.
It was a fair fight; and I killed him.
That is all.”
"They won’t hang you for that,”
she declared.
“Penal servitude Is worse," he com
mented. "If I have the chance on the
voyage, I shall go overboard."
"Tou will try to swim to shore?”
she asked eagerly.
“Shore? Oh, we shan't he near
that; except when we go through the
Straits of Gibraltar. If I could get
out there—I don’t suppose T can get
out at all:—and If It were at night—
It probably won't be:—and I were not
noticed—’’
“Walt!” she cried. “Walt!” The
wireless said that the Armadillo would
be here at four. Yes. It should go
through the straits at night. It Is
Just over 30 hours’ Journey; and It
will leave here at about six In the
evening. Can you swim for several
miles?”
"Probably. If we were nyar the
Moorish coast—Ape’s Hill and all that
—I might do It. They wouldn't know
of *me up there. Make a slave of me
probably. I’d get sway some day,
with lurk. But they’ll hug the Span
ish side. I’d have to land at Gibral
tar, If at all. There they’ll know of
me; or make Inquiries.”
“What you want,” the resident’s
sister reflected, "Is a boat to pick you
up and land you In Spain."
"Or an airplane,” he laughed, "or a
large-size dove to catch me up In Its
talons and bear me to an aik or a
Mount Ararat. Nothing else Is of any
use, kind lady. Don’t worry about me.
I get my deserts.”
“I—don't—know,” she murmured.
"I don't think you quite deserve—the
trial In England. You do deserve to
be caught by the sheik, of course.
Why did you do it?”
“Well,” he eald reflectively, ”1 sup
pose a man must do something."
“He ought.” the resident's sister
told him severely, "to be of some use
In the world.”
"Use? Use means use to somebody,”
Frankland said thoughtfully. “W hen
tHere isn't a 'somebody’—”
“That,” she cried, "is no reason why
there should be ’anybodies” If I did
find a way of helping you to escape.
I should expect you to become very
different.”
"The leopard doesn’t change hie
gpots,” he said. "Some men are born
with a devil In them—”
"And some women." murmured the
resident’s sister. "Women like the
sheik’s sister. I mean. Well, I hope
she was only his sister.”
"What an exciting picture you must
have of me in a super sheik s tent
with a beautiful oriental!" Frankland
Interrupted. "Ah well, I saw only her
garden, Into which her slave enticed
me, the little hussy.
"You know I am a bad egg. I tell
you this for the humor of It. It was
a Moorish variant of what the Amer
icana call the badger game—and play
ed on me—with all I’ve seen It’s
really funny. The methods of Lime
House of the Tenderloin In Mo
rocco!
"I love lapis. While I was haggling
for some In the bazaar cornea thla
slave, plucking my bournouse I^aple.
she ssId. A great store of It for sale
. heap. What cared 1 If it had been
atolen. I agreed to bring gold.
"I'd nrft reckoned on ho pretentious
a garden. But 1 slipped through the
door when the elave led me that
night. Nor had T reckoned on a
woman there. Obviously the sheik s
slater or wife. She wit# In the game.
Perhaps his nib* was and Is stingy
—and fleecing the Nasrlnl runs tn the
blood.
"There was no lapis. And briefly
they demanded my gold — or they
would scream and summon the sheik
I laughed—and Into the garden ran
the sheik. They hadn't reckoned on
him! They thought he wae away! I
wna over the wall—but hla honor —
a Nasrlnl with his wife, or sister, was
really compromised, lie recognised
me. He Immediately decided that lie
must kill me, slowly. Ho here I
am."
He rose and towered above her
earnestly. "The memory of your wish
to help me will be one of the pleas
ant things I'll have all my life. At
the end, If—”
"Hsh!” She stopped him. "You
must try to escape,"
"There Is no escape,'" he declared,
“and very probably tlmt'a best for
the world. 1 seem trt be a man who
Isn’t very much use to anybody.’’
“But you might he If you tried,"
she mused. "1 wish I could think of
a way—I must go tm bow. Thor win
look for m« when they wake up."
"TheyT” Frankland questioned; but
she did not answer. She went In
doors and sat reflecting, with her ehln
on her hand, till Davis came from
his siesta and found her.
"He says It’s not the slightest ass
trying to escape in a disguise," she
M tha party paaaad through the nar
row atreeta; but tha aupar-ahatk and
tha athar ahelka aat at tha euatoms by
tha quay with folded arma. Whan
tha crowd had paaaad thorn they
looked at each other.
•■Allah la great.’* tha auper-aheik
murmured. "Among the guarda of the
Infidel an tha ahip la Muley, the aon
"hai cast hi* ey* upon Davis's wo
man. She would have Davis contrive
hla escape. And so he came to me!"
As the Armadillo neared the Straits
of Gibraltar Muley came softly Into
the cabin. "I am the man of the
worshipful Sir Davis.” he whispered,
"and am sworn to aid you. I will
watch for the boat and the light, and
and I will be singing at the time, lest
any should notice a sound. Float for
a while and do not swim until the
ship is past sight. Be sure the boat
will search very diligently for you.”
”1 am sure,” P'rankland said. "Go
now, lest any should suspect; and come
again when it is time." When he had
loosened the bars he put the iron
The case opener
descended upon his
head just then! He
dropped like a log across the
Eiinwhale. The two negroes drew pistols.
stated. "They’d find out. I suppose
they would. Ivor. I can't stick the
idea of the man’s being hanged; a
great hearty fellow like that. Be a
big chap and help me to find a way
of escape for the poor devil."
"What is he to you?” Davis wanted
to know, almost fiercely.
"Just an Englishman,” she declared.
"He la rather—rather a type that I
idealized, I think.”
“A warning to give up Idealizing
and settle down to—er—practical
life,” he told her. "Lnol* here, Beat
rice. You’ve known for four years
that 1—”
“Yes. yes. I think of it, Ivor—I
have an idea how it could be done.
Listen—”
"Well,” said Davis slowly, when
she had finished, "I tell you candidly
that I'd Just as soon the fellow was
hanged or dro'wned. I wouldn't run
any risk for him; but since you want
my services for your whim I can't re
fuse them. I’ll try to arrange It; and
if I do—. If I do this thing for you
—Well, I won't bargain. Ill do It
for you!”
"You are bigger than I thought. I
suppose I shall end by—doing what
you want."
The neat morning the resident’s
sister strolled down by the hut.
"Good morning. I must not be seen
talking to you for long. Mr. Davis
has made a plan for you. The sec
ond night otit you will pass tbs Straits
of Gibraltar. You must try to get
overbo’ard then. Just when you are
opposite the light on Europe Point—
You know It?"
"I know it.”
Try to slip overboard Just then, I
will bring you some tools that might
help you break out. There will be a
boat sailing about to pick you up. Mr.
Davis Is sending the men—three of
them—In the local steamer to Glbral
tar this afternoon.”
"Men from here.” said Frankland
slowly. "Do you think they can be
relied upon?”
"We can't get any other. He says
they are reliable. Are you going to
do it?'*
"Yes." ho agreed. ‘‘Of course. Davis
Is Hie man you were singing with yea
terday evening. Isn't he? Why Is he
.helping me."
"Oh! Because you are a good fellow
Flnglishman, I suppose. I may have
Influenced him a little—I must go
now. I can tell him you'll do It;"
"Of course. Thank—"
"That's all right. I must go." She
ran back to the house. Frsnkland
stared after her; stared at the door
way long after she had gone In. VI
tvonder,” he muttered, "where he got
those men from? Anyhow, the proj
ect Is something to bring her here to
talk to me. I wonder If ehe'l! come
thla afternoon."
The resident's sister did come that
afternoon and the conversation was
mostly hers, and mostly about the
need of information, If he had an
other chance In life. He must let her
know that he was making good.
"Because," she declared, "you have
promised to try; and you will owe It
to me—If you escape."
"There doesn't seem to be any need
for me," he said. "To be of use, one
must be of use to somebody. There’s
nobody. I wish I could do something.
Just for knight-servire to you!”
"Well," she said. "If I enable you to
escape, what you do afterwards will
stand to my account; the good and the
ba/ll So you've got to be more good
than bad—to give me a balanoe.” She
laughed a little; touched hie arm as
If In appeal.
"Are you engaged to DavlaT" he
asked.
"No. lie wants me to be. He Is—
very worthy—“
lie in* her three times afterward,
before he left on the Armadillo. That
evening she passed like a flash. Just
muttering- "The men have gone to
Ulb.” On the following morning she
brought him an Iron case opener and
a few aniall tools, .She Informed him
that the boat would lie near tbn track
of the ste.mier and show a blue light.
In the afternoon alia came for about
half mi hour; to wish him Godspeed,
she said. "And you have to he good,
you know, berauae It will count to
me."
Ahout 5 o'clock the guard came to
take him aboard. The consul bad
obtained a considerable armed pait\
from the local authorities, ns the feel
ing of tbn populace ran high; not no
much against the prisoner himself as
against bis being taken away from
the judgment of their law. There
was hissing and cursing and spitting
of Hassan of mlno. Ha win a*o to
It that tha prisoner Is free to cast
himself into the sea of the straits,
after he has seen the blue light of
the vessel of the Englishman Davis."
"The Englishman Davis, Is he to
trusty Bays not the prophet: ’He who
betrays his own blood will betray
the stranger’.”
"The man," said the supersheik.
warn you, all In good time. It Is
but to drop lightly and swim; and the
rest Is to Allah.”
"Did the worshipful Sir Davis come
aboard your ship and arrange this
with you?" Frankland asked.
“Truly ao,” the man declared.
"I mean did he come himself?”
“Very truly himself,” Muley assert
ed. “I tell you It la but to drop softly:
ease opener inside his vest—a atrange
thing to swim with, but he knew
that Davis had not been aboard the
Armadillo.
"So," he muttered now, "that's it!
The sheik has outwitted Davis, or
Davis has outwitted her. The boat—
if there is a boat—is to take me to
the sheik. Well, I'm going over any
how. I'd risk my life for the bare
chance of being able to save her
from him!”
HOW'DO THE Y GET THA T WA Y?
____—-Ry O. O. M’INTYRE.
The New York bootlegger* admit
their* In' a hazardous occ*patlon but
It has on* compensation. They get to
meet *o many nlc* peopla. On* won
ders inhere they get th* stuff they are
peddling these days. There Is a *tory
of a New Yorker of prominence who
went to e western city with a well
packed hip. H# ran out of money
and went to a bank to have a check
raahed. Tha bank wired his New
York bank: "Jim Smith here. Drunk.
Wants money.’*
There came an immediate wire:
"Identification complete. Caah check."
It would appear New York la In the
final throea of ritm buying. It la
after th# final fling before accepting
tha ISth amendment. Tha town Is
on the loos*. Every ahow hae a
group of bare legged leg holsters. Earh
cafe Is trying to outdo Its neighbor
In naughtiness.
In all th* muck along th* PJalto
It Is heartening to ae« the lily lifts
Ita head. The almllle Is applicable to
Fred Stone's ahow—a clean hoofing
performance wherein not Fred but his
flapper daughter Is more prominently
featured.
Very. Very Elegant.
Nearly every mall bring* new* of
being honored with membership In a
new club. The card la numbered.
The name Is written in by an expert
penman. It seems elegant.
A card before me numbered 2913
reads: .
"CT/17B BI-ANK.
1*23 l»l«
This I* to certify that Mr. P. O.
McIntyre la a member in good stand
ing. Cluhrooma are open nightly at
10 p. m. for the convenience of mem
bers and tlielr guests. The board
of governors reserves the right to
revoke this membership and all
privilege* hereunder without notice.”
The "privileges" In this club, as in
all others, permit a member to climb
Into a monkey suit, taxi to the club,
have his hat snatched by a young
Oreek, be jammed Into a stuffy wm
on an uncomfortable rhalr and pay
a |t convert charge for the privilege
of buying poisonous boox# at 13 a
shot. If after two shots tyou crave
to play the bass drum you ara no
gentleman clubman and your mem
bership Is "revoked" or you are tossed
out on your ear.
I have membership In 1# of these
clubs, although I didn’t make appll
cation to Join a atngla one. I am be
ginning to feet quite tha mnn about
town and I pin# for a touch of gout
to make the picture complete.
Many of the club# have French
names that give a meaning they arc
hot stuff. You get all Inflamed to go.
The only hot stuff 1* the alleged
liquor they serve.
A11 the fellows who used to sell
wild cat stocks, swamp lands In Flort
da and tha like srs now opening
clubs They srs known sa tha “seers
tarles." A dim room on a side street
and a case of hooch ara tha only re
qnlrsments.
Tea Place# Too Rough.
The new dub le e bark wash of the
Innocent looking little tea place* that
grew too rowdy for the neighbor
hood. A meddlesome police got to
snooping around there apparently In
nocent place* and dosed l hem up liy
putting a copper Inside from night
until dawn.
That'a the trouble with the Man
hattan peninsula, they any. Someone
I* always trying to *ttfle harmless
gayety. You'd almost think ths town
wa* a part of ths United Stales and
subject to Ita silly laws
All the clubs have their quota of
professional diggers. The ln:id watt
era will Introduce you and alio I* so
rniburraeed because her esoort hasn't
shown upv Tee, she will have one
little elp. On# heroine* so fatigued
waiting.
One little* sip requires another and
then an automobile ride where she
breaks down crying nml tells all. Tho
rent Is due. The furs In hock and on
tho morrow sh« fully Intended to greet
the dawn with a gulp of lysol. isn't
It wonderful to find a great big heart
ed man In such a cold pitiless city?
One old stager who visited one of
the clubs tells of taking a digger out
for an auto ride.
”l>arl!ng." she naked. "Would you
like to see where I was vaccinated?”
What lie Saw.
He Mushed and said he wouldn't
after that hour sitting up Is not do
ing much buying.
If they can't get It one way they
will another. About the only promise
they make is that the liquor won’t
kill you on the premises. If you die
on the way home it Is your own
affair.
One t'lub In the East Fifties Keeps' I.lqunr Hidden Inside of a Base Drum
mind. The next Mock they panned a
hospital and she mid, “That'® the
place."
A nw yyppInK wrinkl® In the
"cluhn'' in th® time limit convert
oharye. If you remain after 2 a. m.
you pay an additional fee. They fiy
ur® that a clubman who can remain
Sur-li rlul«i make It tough for the
fellow these days who tells his wife
he has "dropped into the club for
an hour or so." Even In the biggest
clulw In the old days one had a
speaking acquaintance with one or
two members, but now the member
at the next table may be a miller
froni Minneapolis or a plutocrat from
Pittsburgh.
Even in the sweliewt clubs there
used to be something free—an ama
teur entertainment, perhaps a silver
match safe on Christmas or tooth
picks, but now the only thing the
new club 'gives you free is cirrtioeis
of the liver.
Where Are Booie Sleuths?
There is some mystery how these
rlubs survive. Anyone In evening
clothes is able to gain admittance.
Liquor is not tucked stray in tea
cups. No on# Is asked to Show a
membership card. Not even the pro
hibition agents. Those boys imK
have their moments of relaxation,
you know, whers they can bs free
of official duties, and what is a bet
ter parking place for them in leisure
moments than the club?
Here are a few of the suggestive
names of clubs around town: The Hi
glow, the Owl's Den, Monaco, the
Parisian Night—imagine a man tell
ing bis w ife h* belongs to the Pari
sian Night club—the Kick and the
Squab's Nest.
It something doesn't> happen soon
the old lodge night excuse is rolng
to go blooey'.
In the old days they used to say the
saloon was the poor man's club.
Nowadays the rich man's club M just
a saloon. Things certainly move In
cycles.
I ha\ e often wondered how they
managed to cache si many drinks in
the clubs. I have found out. They
don't. The waiters sometimes go a
half block to get the liquor. Each
club keeps its commissary depart
ment separate.
That is why "niemhersr" have to
wait so long for drinks. The waiter
runs a half block after it and mixes
it on the wav. There are no places
for the good old-faAhioned waiters
with broken arches Besides being a
waiter a man must be a sprinter.
There is a story of one club in the
East Fifties that keeps the liquor
hidden inside a bass drum which has
a spigot attachment. The drum is
up against a curtained rail When
the waiter gets his order he lifts
up the curtain, turns on the spigot
and there it is.
ropyrlcht, 1114.
ABE MARTIN On Opportunity
*
/
If weM all give up an' go t' bed, th'
world wi uUt ream' l’ move—progress
would glop and stagnation would set
In an' thrive. We must all have a
goal an' be forever movin' toward It.
Kver' buddy ought’t' be headed some
where, but ever'buddy should lie guld
ed tiy th' fundamental rules an’ In
junctions o' lltV Th' strong hearty
human bein' with an alert mind an'
free from neuritis is a liability settln'
around. Th’ high powered car. pol
ished an’ shinin' with a tank full o'
high test gas nn' four good tires Is
not doin’ nnybuddy any good parked
at th’ curb. A great, empty sky scrap
er Is not fillin' It* mission In life. It
must b* filled with busy people. Th'
street ear must move t' b* o' service
An Idle churn Is neither useful or
ornamental. People must move must
be netlve an' busy at somethin'. Some
o’ them should be lileked an' urged
'till they employ ther talents fer th'
| greater good t’ themselves an’ all
about 'em. Th' world la full o' people
that only need spurtin'. Opportunity
Is no reaper lor o' persona. It cornea t'
all, an’ It come often. Folks that
complain that they've never had a
chance have jest simply not been
available t' grab off th’ opportunities
that nio alltis snoopin' about. It's Jest
as easy t' catch on an' git t' th' front
t'day as It wua when vve could have
bought th' ground where th' court
house stands, for fitly cents. If thei
ever wits a time in th' history o’ clvlll
sation when a hustler could git t' th'
front. Its t'day. Jest look at th'
things t' git Into! Shoe repairin', soft
drinks, fillin' stations, plasterin',
brlcklayln', an' politics. Titer's so
many gainful pursuits t'day, that th'
hustler must git bewildered. It's Jest
about considered a reflection If a
feller's a pedealtaln these days We
haln't aeon a patch on th’ seat of a
pair o' trousers sine* t9I4 Women
never looked a* nifty, door yards will
never mowed closer, sody fountains
wu* never as overtaxed, labor never
had as much time fer golf, two dollar
neckties never moved aa fast, an
squeaky shoes are unheard of. doctors
will never as hard t' locate, domestic
help la out o' th' question, big, liberal
egg sandwiches sell fer a dime, th'
sens an' highways are cluttered wv.li
tourists, we have t* go t’ work at
five a. in. t' find a parkin' place, th'
banka are robbed as fast as they ac
cumulate anything, people don't think
anything o' bein' raided, fake Invest
inent concern* Impoverish whole
states, an' ytt th* grand ole country
moves right along an’ seems t* rtvupe
her losses overnight. Th’ very Idea o'
anybuddy savin’ they hav e no chance
t' git t' th- front! If they'd stand tn
th' right place they'd be shoved t' th'
front.
Presently Muley entered softly
again. "The boat ia Just ahead," he
whispered. "We are catching up to It
fast. Count two minutes by your
watch, then go. I wfll be singing—
Allah is great:"
Frankland waited the two minutes,
then pushed the bars aside; stood on
the bunk with his head and shoulders
out of the porthole. A man above—
that would be Muley—began chanting
some weird thing. It was what they
sang at Moorish funerals, he thought.
There was a boat: a big lateen
sailed craft of 30 feet or more—
three men; Moors apparently. They
had a bluish lantern in the stern.
Frankland looked at hls watch. Five
seconds overtime! Ha replaced It,
squeezed through the porthole and
dropped. He heard Muley's voice rise
In a great wail then. It was the song
for the dead. When he rose he lay
still and floated. The boat was keep
ing its course. But he must not call
or signal yet. Presently the boat was
level with him—perhaps a hundred
yards a^ay. It still did not turn.
Was this a refinement of crueltj—to
pass him and not to pick him up?
Gibraltar was several miles distant,
he thought. He doubted if he could
swim it. Perhaps he might wave
now. The steamer must be half a mile
away— Ah! The boat was turning
toward him! He struck out for It; at
first strongly; then decided that he
had better pretend to be exhausted.
For, If his suspicions were right. It
was not a rescue, but a capture. He
sank limply on the seat when they
pulled him In.
"To Spain," he stuttered then.
"To Spain " The gigantic helmsman
laughed. The two great negroee who
sat amidshlp laughed.
"We take you to Sir Davis,” ths
helmsman said, ‘and to hls friend the
Illustrious sheik—” The case-opener
descended upon hls head Just then!
He dropped like a log across the gun
wale. The two negroes drew pistols.
"Drop them!” Frankland roared.
"Or—" He sprang toward them with
the case opener. They dropped the
pistols and he took those and their
daggers and sent them forward, and
went to the tiller. In a few minutes
he was sailing for the coast of Spain.
It was perhaps 2 o’clock when he
found a sandy stretch under some
. — i
cliff*. He went close In, and made
the negro** *wlm and wade the few
yards to the shore, dragging with
them the Moorish helmsman, who Was
just conscious now, but unable to
swim. Then he sailed along the coast
In a fovorable breeze, until half past
five, when he thought he must be 5#
miles from them, and landed at a little
fishing village.
He professed to be a yachtsman
from Gibraltar, who had damaged hi*
boat and gave It over for repair*
while he went to see the famous
cathedral and a bull fight at Malaga.
He never returned for the boat, but
made his way to Barcelona In a
coasting vessel. At Barcelona hs
found a trader going to Marseilles.
In that cosfnoisilitan city he becams
a spectacled and bearded professor;
and, s.s such, he took his passage In
a little schooner to Hajaba.
But on his arrival there was riot
ing going on, the ship's agent at th# .
port advised the passengers, and they
would be well advised not to land—
especially the English. It was an
anti-English disturbance, so far as it
was more than an individual matter.
There had been trouble for some
weeks over the question of a notori
ous desperado named Krankland. It
appeared that he had been held by
the British resident from the Moor
ish law on the pretense of being sent
to England for trial upon a capital
charge: and that on the voyage horns
he had been put overboard to a
boat chartered by the resident's
friend. Mr. Davis, snd escaped. Th*
people wanted Davis’ blood; and tbs
sheiks, while professing to try to
quiet them, were fomenting the agita
tion secretly. *
"The mob want Davis’ head, snd
ths resident won’t glv# him up," said
th# agent. "He's engaged to his sis
ter. It's one ojf their feasts today
and they’re worked up to a frenzy."
"Could we get up to them, snd
help them fight out?" th* sturdy old
captain asked. ”1 could muster a doz
en stout chaps, seeing that there's
an Englishwoman In It.”
“Say, 1*,” th# big, spectacled pro
fessor suggested mildly.
"Madness," th# agent told him.
"There are thousands of th# Moors,
all more or less armed. I'va Marconi
graphed to Gib., snd they’r# sanding
a gunboat or so; but they won’t be In
time.”
"I’m going ashors," th# professor
announced, "and to th# residency."
"It means your life,” th# sgsnt
warned.
"Well,” the professor observed, it s
miner' The captain accepted this
view, and allowed him to go.
■'He'll never reach the residency.”
the agent predicted as he went off;
"much less get Inside.”
In half an hour, however, he had
done both; partly because he had as
sumed Spanish costume; partly be
cause no one dreamed that anyone
would wish to enter the doomed place.
He Just mingled with the crowd out
side the front gardens. Then leapt
the low v ail and walked In. The mob
howled and yelled, but did not follow
or shoot. The resident opened the
door and waved him back. "You're
a stranger," he said. "They haven't
told you. Get away If you can. Make
as If you cams hers by mistake.
They’ll stuck ths placs befors the
morning Is out. We’re all doomed."
"That," said the professor, “Is why
T have comer’ He stepped Inside;
bowed to the resident and to his sis
ter. and to Davis; took off Ms spec
tacles and beard. I’m Frankland,
you can throw me to the wolvea and
pacify them."
"Franklandr’ the resident's sister
cried. "Franklandr’
"My God." cried the resident.
"You're a man"' I can't give you over
to them, Frankland. I—”
• There's no particular use for me.”
said Frankland. "Except one—to put
a spoke in the blackguard's wheel”
He pointed to Pavia "I suppose hs
gave out the yam that he contrived
my escape? What he contrived was
my capture by the sheik's me if. They
w ere going to bring me back to Mo
rocco for death and torture! They
were the men of 'Sir Davis’ and hie
friend Mr. Sheik. They told ms so.
Well, this compassionate lady give
me a case-opener!" He laughed.
That traitor—! Giving me tip may
stop them but—”
••Oh:" cried tha reeldent • sister.
'“Don't give him up, Henry, s*
fight and die together! You sad I
and he! I don't want even ta dia
near him! Go—!** Bhe shrank back
from 11avia.
"Sah!" aald her brother. 'TYa
haven't long. Better gd away from
her. Davia. and—from ms?' Ha point
ed to a doorway. Davla want slowly
out. "To think that any man—any
Englishman—"
There waa a sudden uproar. “Rser
ran to the window and saw Davis
running down the path and through
the gates. Ths mob out Bid# closed
around him.
"Ood forgive him." the realdent
said hoarsely. "He has died for us.
like a man. It shows how great er
rors can he repaired, while life is left.
Terhaps you—?"
“'Please God." FVankland aald. "I—*
I'll try to he—some use In the world."
He concluded thst his first good deed
should he to place the wide seas be
tween ihe consul's sister and h'.mself:
hut ah* would nod have It so: came
and stood beside him on the deck of
ths steamer that night—for they left
H.ajaha, at the riots seemed likely to
break out again—and spoke to Mm
frankly.
"You say you are going awayf*
"And you know why." he replied.
"But suppoee." she whispered, “'that
I have—us* for yo“U*"
"Pear lady." he said, "very dear
lady! You soe. 1 must go—somewhere
abroad, under another name— e brok
en man, trying to put the pieces to
gether. I’ll try. But It must he far
away front—all things In life that you
hold dear, and—and—front you!' He
bowed his head.
"But supposeshe whispered.
"Suppose I wanted to come too" Sup
pose that I could pot find happiness
any other wav? Suppose that I. too.
want to-be of some use in the world
—lise to you' '
"My God!" he ciied. “If 1 can
make you happy— l ive for you—!"
There are two people now—no.
five!—who call themselves S • lib. and
live overseas on a great ranch which
touches civil,ration at one end. and
at the other the wild. Tne two are
happy together, and the' bring up
happy, sturdy chddi.n. 1* \-*e of
a woman and a man!
tC*e-r*tht 1*14.1
\ i