p ILLUS ™^^ N 1 COFiTUCHT 1909 By LOU I S^OSE 14 SYNOPSIS. The story opens at Monte Carlo with Col. Terence O'Rourke, a military free lance and something of a gambler, in his hotel. Leaning on the balcony he sees a beautiful girl who suddenly enters the elevator and passes from sight. At the gaming table O'Rourke notices two men watching him. One is the Hon. Bertie Oiynn, while his companion is Viscount J >es Trebes, a duelist. The viscount tells him the French government has directed him to O'Rourke as a man who would undertake a secret mission. At his apart ment, O'Rourke, who had agreed to un dertake the mission, finds a mysterious letter. The viscount arrives, hands a sealed package to O'Rourke, who is not to open it until on the ocean. A pair of dainty slippers are seen protruding from under a doorway curtain. The Irishman finds the owner of the mysterious feet to be his wife, Beatrix, fromS'.vhom he had run away a year previous. They are reconciled, and opening the letter he finds that a Rangoon law firm offers him 100,000 pounds for a Jewel known as the Pool of Flame and left to him by a dy ing friend, but now In keeping of one named Chambret in Algeria. O'Rourke worsts the nobleman In a duel. The wife bids O'Rourke farewell and he promises to soon return with the reward. He dis covers both Olynn and the viscount on board the ship. As he finds Chambret there is an attack by bandits and his friend dies telling O'Rourke that he has left the Pool of Flame with the governor general, who at sight of a signet ring given the colonel will deliver over the Jewel. Arriving at Algeria the Irishman finds the governor general away. Des Trebes makes a mysterious appointment, and tells O'Rourke that he has gained possession of the jewel by stealing It. In a duel O'Rourke masters the viscount, secures possession of the Pool of Flame and starts by ship for Rangoon. He finds the captain to be a smuggler who tries to steal the jewel. It Is finally secured by the captain and O'Rourke escapes to land. With the aid of one Danny and his sweetheart, O'Rourke recovers the Poo! of Flame. On board ship once more, bound for Rangoon, a mysterious lady appears. O'Rourke comes upon a lascar about to attack the lady, who Is a Mrs. Prynne. and kicks the man into the hold. Mrs. Prynne claims she is en route for India on a mission for the king. CHAPTER XXIII —(Continued.) Now Danny happened to have "off" the first afternoon watch. O'Rourke from the bridge saw hiin come up the engine-room companion ladder, dive Into the messroom for his dinner, and later emerge, picking his teeth and grinning self-complacency until his master could have kicked him, had such a course been politic before the crew, or even consistent with the dig nity of his oflice. "A word to say to ye, sor, if I may make so bold." O'Rourke glanced at the helmsman, and having long since made up his mind that the man was competent, left him In possession of the bridge for a space, and joined Danny below. "What is it?" Danny lowered his voice to a hoarse whisper. "Kape yer eye on thot black divvle up there, sor, for the love of Hlven, and don't look surprised at anything—" O'Rourke moved a few paces aft, along the rail, to a point whence he could see tho head and shoulders of the helmsman. "Well?" " 'Tis nawthin' I cud swear to, sor, but 'tis meself thot's mortal leary av these naygurs—rapspicts to ye—and— and —" "Come, come l Out with it, Danny." "Sure, sor, 'tis the serang. Have ye chanced to notice him, sort" O'Rourke glanced down to the fore deck, where the personage In question was standing at ease. "What of him?" he inquired, running his eye over the iellow's superb proportions. " 'Tis nawthin' I'd take me oath to, sor, but I'm thinktn' he's the man who boarded the Panjnab at Suez, sor. And as for the naygur I run against on the s'loon deck, yer honor, he's his mortal twin." "Ah," commented O'Rourke. "Thank you, Danny." lie continued to watch the serang until the latter, as If influenced by the fixity of the Irishman's regard, turned and stared directly Into O'Rourke's eyes. For a full minute he gave him look for look, dark eyes steadfast and unyielding above his fine aquiline nose, then calmly turned his back, re suming his contemplation of the tur bulent horizon. An instant later Quick came up to relieve O'Rourke, and, eight bells sounding, Danny dived below to take Dravos' place. O'Rourke, unpleasant ly impressed by the incident, still for bore to mention it to either of the ship's owners; he retired to think it over, and spent a long hour consum ing an indifferent cigar and studying the cracks in Ihe bulkhead between his room and the cabin. Without profit, however. Lacking more substantial proof than Danny's suspicions, he could arrive at no defi nite conclusion. The night passed without incident; the second day dawned the counter part of its predecessor, and wore away quietly enough. It fell to O'Rourke to stand the first dog-watch, from four to six in the evening. Shortly after he ascended the bridge, it was his happiness to be joined by Mrs. Prynne, who improved the moment to sipress her gratiflca <Sort *lil tile orooltlous tide In her af fairs. The King's courier was pleased to declare herself very well pleased Indeed, though she admitted, under jocular pressure, that she considered she was roughing it. Captain Quick's quarters were by no means palatial, and the bill of fare, while substantial ly composed, lacked something of va riety; but that was all a part of the great and fascinating game she played —the game of secret service to His Majesty, Edward VII. Not that alone, but she was com forted by the assurance that her voy age would soon be over, her mission discharged, her responsibility a thing of the past. She would be glad to see Bombay. "One never knows, you know. Colo nel O'Rourke," she said with a little gesture expressive of her allowance tor the unforeseen. O'Rourke divined she had something on her mind which she hesitated to voice, though they were practically alone; the man at the wheel was a nonentity— bronze statue in a faded shirt, ragged turban and soiled cum merbund. "Then 'Us yourself will be glad, I gather, to be rid of us, madam?" She smiled, deprecatory. "What would you?" she asked in French, with a significant glance up into O'Rourke's eyes. "It's not precisely pleasant to bo constantly apprehensive," the woman continued in the same tongue, "even when one has a Colonel O'Rourke to look to for protection." "Ah, madame!" expostulated the wanderer. "But what makes ye so p«sitive I'd not turn tail and run away from any real danger?" She gave him a look that brimmed with mirth. "A man who is a cow ard," she said slowly, "doesn't stand still and draw a revolver when a heavy knife is thrown at his bead." "Quick told ye, madam?" "No, I saw—heard the quarrelling on the forward deck and got to the companionway In time to see what happened. Had you not been so in tent on your search for tlie knife, you would have seen me. As It was, I slipped below again without attracting attention." "But why?" "To get my revolver, monsieur le colonel." " 'Twas naught "but an accident—" "You do not believe that yourself, colonel dear; for my part, I —" "Well?" "Someone tried my door last night, after you'd retired." "Ye are sure?" doubted O'Rourke, disturbed. "Quite. I was awake —thinking; I heard you come below and close your door at eight bells; long after there were footsteps—someone walking in his bare feet —In the saloon. Then the knob was turned, very gently. Fortunately, the door was bolted; someone put a shoulder to It, but it held fast. I caught up my revolver— indeed and I am very reckless with It, sir!—and opened the door myself. The saloon was quite empty." "Ye shouldn't have risked that—" "I had to know, with so much at stake," she said simply. O'Rourke endeavored to manufac ture a plausible and reassuring explan ation to the fact. "Quick, Danny, or Dravos, mistaking their rooms—" "It was none of them. Captain Quick was on deck; I heard his voice almost simultaneously. surely I couldn't mistake that." She laughed. "Nor would your man or Mr. Dravos have been so stealthy, so instant to escape." "But —but—" "My .heory, K you will have it, Is that mine enemy of the Panjnab is one of the crew of the Ranee, mon sieur." Mrs. Prynne made this statement as quietly as though she were comment ing on the weather. But her belief chimed so exactly with his own that O'Rourke was stricken witless and at a loss to frame a satisfactory refuta tion. He was silent for some mo ments, his lips a thin hard' line, a crinkle of anxiety between his brows. "If ye'd only permitted me to attend to him—" he growled at length. "You are right," she admitted, "but —I am desolated —the mischief's done." "Faith, yes!" he sighed dejectedly. His gaze roved'the deck and fastened upon the serang. "It might lie any one of them," he considered aloud. "Any one. For Instance, though— the serang?" "Why d'ye suspect him more than another?" he demanded, startled. "Call It feminine intuition, if you Hko. The man looks capable of any thing." "Yes. But sure, there's no telling at all." "No telling," she concurred autotlr. "We can but wait, watch, hope that I imagined the hand at my door." "There might be something in that." "I am neither nervous nor an im aginative woman." "At.all events, I'll go bail 'twill not happen a second time." "How do you propose to prevent it?" "Sure, the simplest way in the world. 1 myself will stand guard in the saloon, madam." "But no, monsieur; I can better af ford to lose a little sleep than have you forfeit your rest. Besides, I have Cecile " There ensued an argument without termination; he remained obdurate, she insistent. Only the appearance of Quick on the stroke of four bells forced then* to shelve the subject. It was resumed at the dinner table and carried out in a light manner o! banter for a time, dropped and for gotten, apparently by all but O'Rourke. CHAPTER XXIV. The night fell clear as crystal and wonderfully bright with stars; the wind went down with the sun, then rose again refreshed and waxed to half a gale. At midnight O'Rourke, leaving the bridge, left the Ranee driv ToilM6 A Cry of Horror, Despair and Raga Stuck In the Wanderer's Throat. ing steadily through a racing sea, through a world noisy with the crisp rattle and crash of breaking crests. Fortifying himself with strong cof fee. the adventurer settled himself in a chair by the foot of the companion way steps leading up from the tiny saloon that served as dining-room for all but the crew of the tramp. From this position he commanded both en trances, port and starboard, from the upper deck, as well as the doors that Hanked them on either hand, to the quarters occupied by Mrs. Prynne and to Dravos' stateroom, which was emp ty and would be so until the next change of watch. , The succeeding hours dragged inter minably, quiet and unevent ful About six bells the moon got up, and its rays, filtering through the heavy-ribbed glass of the skylight, filled the saloon with an opalescent shimmer that assorted incongruously with the dull glow of the electric bulbs—dull, because there was some thing wrong witL the dynamo, accord ing to Dravos. O'Rourke, weary and yawning, watch ed the milky rainbow dance upon the half-opaque glass overhead for several moments before It conveyed to him a warning. Tl:en immediately he aban doned his s; it and stretched himself out upon a transom against the after bulkhead, whence he could see some thing less of the upper gangway, but sufficient for his purposes For his I'hair had been beneath the skylight. and the wings of that were open for ventilation. " 'Tis safer here," he considered "There'll be no dropping one of those long knives on me now, be premedi tated inadvertence, I'm thinking." lie gaped tremendously. The pcaca of the night, the singing of the waves against the Ranee's sides, the deep throb and unbroken surge of her en gines, and the sustained, clear note of the monsoon in her wire rigging— these combined with physical fatigue to poothe the man, to lull him into fantastic borderland of dreams. Yet such was his command of self that he would not yield to the caressing touch of drowsiness, but merely lay motion less and at rest, communing with his fancy. And that led him out of the sordid saloon of the Ranee across the seas that lay ahead of that ship's prow, to the fair land whither he was to convey the Pool of Flame. . . . Abruptly he leapt to his feet, wide awake and raging. A blow was still sounding through the saloon a dull crash. Buried half way to the hilt in the bulkhead back of the transom a knife quivered. In stinctively the wanderer's fingers had closed upon the grip of his revolver. He pulled the trigger almost before he realized what had happened <yid sent a bullet winging toward a spot on the gangway above where a pair of long brown legs had been but now were not. On the heels of that fruit less shot he sent another, this time with no murderous intent, but to warn the captain on the bridge. Here at last was an issue forced, animus proven, assassination indisputably at tempted. He sprang for the companionway, was half way up it in a thought, his heart hot within him, mouth dry with thirst for that lascar's blood. Not a third time should the man escape his judgment at the hands of O'Rourke, he swore. A stentorian roar saluted him as he gained the deck —a bellow chokad and ending in a sickening gurgle. O'Rourke in a flash swung on his heel. Simultaneously he came face to face with Quick. He could have cried aloud 111 pity. The captain swayed before him, a massively built figure clothed all in white, huge arms trembling towards his head, revolver dropping from a nerveless hand, his chin fallen for ward on his chest, a stupid, weary smile on his face, and a dark and hid eous smear spreading swiftly over the bosom of his shirt. A cry of horror, despair and j-age stuck in the wanderer's throat. Quick, who had hailed his appearance on the Ranee at Aden as a harbinger of good luck, had been foully murdered. Ilia dominant emotion of the moment, an intense and pitiful solicitude tor the dying man, threw hiui off bis guard. UMer Its Influence ti« forgot the d«* perate case of which this tragedy brought all aboard the Ranee, put oul his arms, received the falllnt body, and let It gently to the deck. But In a trice he was alive again to his own peril. In the twinkling of an eye he saw a flash of light gliding to wards him with resistless hnpetua. Intuitively he swung to one aide, to the right, and leapt to his feet. At that the knife, a krls sinuous and keen, ran cold upon the flesh of his chest, slit through his shirt, caught in the thong that held the Pool of Flame, and tore out, leaving a ; flapping hole and scraping a hand's breadth of skin from his forearm. Heedless of this, only in fact subconsciously aware that the chamois bag had fallen to the deck, he caught at the hand that had wielded the krls; his fingers closed about the wrist, and, bracing himself, he swung the assassin off his feet. So doing, his fingers slipped on the man's greasy skin and, he stum bled off his balance. His object, however, had been ac complished. The murderer, hurled a yard or more through the air, fell and slid along the deck into a group of lascars, one of whom, like a nine-pin, was knocked over and tell aiop of him. O'Rourke recovered and stppped for ward, revolver poised to administer the quietus to the murderer —an ami able intention which was, however, doomed to frustration. With almost inconceivable swiftness the group of lascars had become a mere tangle of arms and legs, a melange of strug gling limbs and bodies. Where lirf had thought to find a single prostrate form, there were six struggling in con fusion on the deck. For a thought he stayed his finger on the trigger, waiting to pick out the undermost and slay him first of all, unwilling, furthermore, to waste one of the four invaluable cartridges re maining in his revolver. And then—• unexpectedly the tragedy fceemed over and done with altogether. From the bottom of the heap of bod ies a terrible cry of mortal anguish shrilled loud; and almost at once the mob seemed to resolve into its orig inal elements. Five lascars crawled, arose, or flung themselves away from the sixth, who lay inert, prone, limbs still twitching, a knife buried in his back. For a thought the tableau held, there in the pure brilliance of the moonlight; the half a dozen standing figures, O'Rourke a space apart from the rest, and two bodies, the one face down, Quick with a face to the stars, each with its dread background; a black stain that grew and spread slow ly upon the white, dazzling planks. ... Quietly the tallest of the lascars moved forward, knelt and drew the knife from the back of his dead fal low. He straightened up, facing O'Kourke without a tremor, his eyee afire, and wiped the blade of the kris on his cummerbund. "Do not shoot, sahib," he said smoothly in excellent English. "Do not shoot, sahib, for it is I who have avenged. This dog," and with his toe he stirred the thing at bis feet, "ran amok. Now he is dead." This was the serang who spoke. O Rourke eyed hiin coldly through a prolonged silence. At length, "That seems quite evident," he admitted coolly. "Pick up that body and throw it overboard!" he commanded sharply. In obedence to a sign from the se raug, two of the lascars seized the body. A subsequent splash overside told tha Irishman that his order had been carried out. Hut he heard It abstractedly, confronted as he was with a problem whose difficulty was not to be underestimated, the problem embodied in the statuesque, impertur bable serang. It was hard to know what to do, what to believe, what action to take. If he were right in his surmise, the se rang should rightly be shot down in stantly, without an instant's respite. Yet the heartless brutality upon which his theory was based made hiin hesi tate. It was difficult to believe that the serang had been able to accom plish what O'Rc.jrke was inclined to credit him with; that he, the wielder of the kris, the murderer of Quick, thrown off his feet by the Irishman's attack, had delibe-ately involved his fellows with him in his fall and profit ed by the confusion to slay one upon whom he could throw the blame for all that had happened. The weapon quivered In O'Rourke's grasp. More than once in that brief debate he was {erupted to shoot the lellow on suspicion. Yet he held hia hand; he could not be positive. With every ci.cumstance against him, he might still be telling the truth. The whole horrible affair might boil down to nothing more than an insane crime of a crazy Malay, one who, as these rang claimed, had "run amok." He had not made up his mind when his thoughts were given a new turn by a new complication, in the shape of Mrs. Prynne herself. That lady came up the companion steps with no apparent hesitation, no fear or appre hension; quietly and confidently alert, on the other hand, she was visibly armed and prepared agaiust danger in whatever form she might have to en counter it. (TO PE CONTINUED.) Printing in China. If reports are to be relied on, t>ey had the art of printing in China "2,*00 years ago." It was block printing, however, though It Is said that they had something very like movable typ« in the rn'ddle of the tenth century. There nir-y be some doubt as to the el ect period, but there is 10 room fot questioning the fact that for many centuries before it was known In 1 ope the art was well taxawm La Qkiw< COUNT BRIDGE EXTRAS DEAR Pittsburgiiers Draw Compari son With Philadelphia Structure IS FOUR TIMES THH C3ST ■ Second Largest Concrete Span in tha World Investigation for Graft— ! Charge for $16,000 Worth of Ex tras Made and Allowed. Pittsburgh.—The second largest concrete bridge in the world, the Larimer avenue bridge here, which was erected entirely as a municipal project at a cost close to $1,000,000, threatens to become involved in a con j tractor's canal as a result of revela- I tions in The Harpoon, an independent I iveekly magazine. After the bridge was completed the contracting firm of John P. Casey & Co. Putin a bill for $16,200.25 for "extras," which was ap proved by Mayor William A. Magee and his Director of Public Works, Jo seph G. Armstrong. The Voters' League threatens to use the charges I as a basis for reopening the Council- I manic inquiry into the official acts of j Public Works Director Armstrong, Public Safety Director John Morin ! and Health Director E. R. Walters. ■ Bearing out its charge that the city | was flim-flammed, The Harpoon shows i that certain! work, known as bush hammer finish, was charged for at : four times the cost the Phila : delphia paid for the same work in tho building of a bridge there Hunt Down Boy Bandits. Altoona. —Living like bandits in an untenanted shanty in the mountains ' back of Lakemont Park, John Sorrick | and Joseph Buckreis, each aged 10, I conducted a series of robberies that i had the police worried, because of the ; absence of clews, although they were apparently committed by boys. The : theft of a basket of eggs from a farm i er led to the boys' undoing, however, j for he reported the whereabouts of ! the pair to the police, who surprised them while they slept at midnight, j Prepared for resistance, the lads had ! beside them a loaded rifle and revol | ver, with plenty of reserve ammuni i tion. All told six burglaries are charged against them. Sandow Weeps in a Cell. j AUentown. —Fred Sandow, a strong man who had been giving exhibitions i in this city and claiming to be a son j of Eugene Sandow, was arrested by the police on a charge of beating and choking his wife, a frail mite of worn : an. When taken to the police station j the strong man cried like a child, and i begged to be released. His wife is I under the care of a physician. San dow claims to have stood off Hacken schmidt, the wrestler, for eight min utes in New York City. Buckle Saves His Life. Norristown. —A suspender buckle saved the life of Howard K. Jolmson, of West Conshohocken, while he was working on the Hermitage property. He was in his shirt sleeves, on a high point overlooking the Schuylkill Riv er, when he felt a stinging sensation about his heart. He found that he had been struck by a spent bullet, the ball being flattened and fast in his suspender buckle. He thinks the shot was fired by a reckless gunner. Horse on Its Owner's Head. Lancaster. —John Andes, an aged farmer of Willom street, was instant ly killed here. He had attended mar ket and was engaged in hitching his horses, preparatory to returning home. One of the animals became frightened and plunged; Andes fell, and the horse stepped on his head and pulled the heavy wagon over his body. Bullets Burn Up a Thresher. Williamsport.—An incendiary made a target of a threshing machine be longing to Henry Hauser, which he left standing along the public road, and when Hauser came to get the threslier to move to a farmer's barn yard to thrash, he found only a pile of ashes. Dives Three Times to Save. Willow Grove.—Diving three times, Clinton W. Morgan, of this place, haul ed up from the bottom of the Morgan dam, 10 feet deep, 12-year-old John Roberts, who had sunk while bathing, and who was apparently drowned. Three hours' heroic work completely resuscitated the boy. Engineer Hurt in Collision. York. —A rear-end collision between two southbound freight trains on the Northern Central Railway, near Wago. York county, resulted in (he serious Injury of Engineer William A Wise, of this city. He was taken to the Harrisburg Hospital, hurt internally. Gets Civil War Hurt Cut Out. Altoona. —After carrying a lump on his head for 50 years. Major John R. Garden, veteran of the alvil war, walk ed to the hospital and asked that it be removed, as,it had lately been annoy ing him. When it was suggested that he submit to an anesthetic, he shook his, head. "I'll undergo the operation without," he said, and he did. Major Garden was shot by a Confederate sharpshooter in the Rebellion, but after the wound healed it never gave him any trouble until recent year* •vfcrn it began to enlarge.
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