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.