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Show , I SHEEP'S CLOTHING I uj II" & a x By LOUIS JOSEPH VANCE &. . i Real Entertainment. In peace times the Atlantic steamship lines offer smooth rascals a fruitful field of labor. Some are gamblers, some are smugglers, some are thieves of every known variety, including backmailers. In "Sheep's Clothing" Mr. Vance has written writ-ten a story whose action takes place principally during a single voyage from England to America, Amer-ica, and at least three of his characters are smart rascals posing as honest men wolves in sheep's clothing. This story points no moral. Its chapters chap-ters are filled with honest, cheerful, entertaining people; the kind we all like to meet and know and the ending is happy. No, this isn't a problem novel, but a very pleasant and sometimes some-times thrilling tale, and you're all going to enjoy reading it. THE EDITOR. CHAPTER I. In her maiden season the Aisatia. 'largest steamship in the world" of her day and generation, was advertised to leave Liverpool for New York via Queenstown, promptly at five o'clock in the afternoon of every third Saturday. Satur-day. At about one o'clock of a Saturday late in September ne forehanded passenger pas-senger found her way by dint of persistence per-sistence through the pandemonium in the pier-shade to the Alsatiu's first-cabin first-cabin gangway. This was a young woman not far beyond her twentieth year, with a tall 2nd slender body, a face of uncommon distinction, and at the time somewhat ale, and a striking abundance of hair the color of raw, red gold. Dressed simply in dark traveling costume, with hat in excellent accord, she carried, in addition to a light wrap and tightly rolled umbrella, a conspicuously new Oxford bag lettered in black, "L. C. New York." Behind her n porter staggered stag-gered beneath her only other piece of luggage a battered black-leather trunk of great age, which, curiously enough, bore the legend in letters of white, half obliterated, "L. C London." Lon-don." Tipping and dismissing the man. the girl confidently ascended the gangway to the saloon deck of the Aisatia, and asked a steward to conduct her to her stateroom, displaying at the same time a ticket entitling "Lucy Carteret. Spinster," Spin-ster," to a berth in Room 75, Deck B. Once alone in her room, she bolted the door, lingered before a full-length mirror to remove her hat, eying her reflection with a shadowy, puzzling smile, and urned away to review the cubicle, one-half of which she was entitled en-titled to call her own for the nest six days. The other half had been engaged by a woman of whom she knew noth-1dS noth-1dS whatever, not even so much as her name. It was a stateroom unusual in arrangement ar-rangement and luxurious In appointment. appoint-ment. Twin brass bedsteads stood end to end against the inner wall. The other furniture comprised a capacious est of drawers, a comfortable sofa, Jnd two wicker armchairs. At one end narrow doors admitted to a cramped, but adequate lavatory and a roomy clothes-press. The woodwork ffi8 enameled a creamy white, and the a"s boasted panels of golden brocade bro-cade a color scheme conveying an ef- at once of warmth, airiness and 'crapulous cleanliness. With a grave little nod, the girl ap-,rved- K expensive and It was hor-;'0'y hor-;'0'y expensive for her slender purse-Sis purse-Sis stateroom was well worth all it cost her. There ran In her blood ae Instinct for luxury, though now her jrnrse" uPn examination, yielded but 't golden sovereigns, a half-sover-fJ. a half-crown, a shilling, and a w ponderous copper pennies, barely of'tv,8h fF the lnevitable t'PS at the end n t Voya?e- She would land In New ,. , Poetically penniless. But that 'Ula be on a day the seventh distant : J'nent unto It its potential mischief. was very tired: the last few ;nts had brought her little sleep, .; nls to the excitement engendered contemplation of a step whose bold-j, bold-j, 8 Was unprecedented In her history, t now, with that step successfully en, excitement yielded place to fa-Unlocking fa-Unlocking and in part unpack- ttert bag and trunk- she appropri- a fair half of the wardrobe ac-m,nodutions, ac-m,nodutions, then wrapped herself in I a dressing gown and lay down on one ; of the beds. Transient, odd visions painted the ruddy gloom within her closed eyelids of the life she had dismissed dis-missed ; of the temerarious adventure that engaged her; of the life to which she looked forward. In time a knocking sounded on the door. The girl stirred and moved her head Impatiently. The knocking grew imperative, and the deeps of sleep were disturbed by other sounds as well, by voices Miss Carteret came fully to her senses in the act of unfastening the door. Rut of a sudden she paused with fingers resting nerveless upon half-drawn half-drawn bolt, eyes wide with apprehension, apprehen-sion, and her fare robbed of all that gracious color with which sleep had imbued it. For an instant she stood I so, in doubt and hesitation, listening; i then, as if reassured, she drew the bolt clear and opened the-door. This act disclosed fvo figures waiting wait-ing beyond the threshold a luggnge-! luggnge-! laden steward and a lady of abundant j person and post-mature years. In a I gown not three days out of the Rue de 1 la I'aix. "I'm sorry." the girl apologized, standing aside. "I was quite sound asleep, and couldn't seem to wake up." "Rut It is I who am sorry to have disturbed you." With a nod and a smile of acknowledgment, the speaker sailed grandly Into the stateroom, a somewhat overpowering Presence. Submitting perforce to the necessity of traveling without privacy, Miss Carteret Car-teret hadn't bargained for the company of a dowager duehess;nnd this Presence Pres-ence bodied forth every redoubtable inch of that high estate. Her sixty years were quick with the spirit of forty. She wore her nose with the high, patrician bridge. A make-up of Wf M; 'I i Ml 'I ' She Drew the Bolt and Opened the Door. most excellent discretion supplemented charms by no means hopelessly passee. An impeccable taste in dress achieved a sobriety to suit her age, while escaping escap-ing gloom and stiffness. There were evidences of a vigorous temper, dominated domi-nated by a lively appreciation of the humorous, an Invincible self-confidence, a seasoned acquaintance with the world, and a devastating curiosity a handsome figure, a personality to be reckoned with. By accent and mode of speech a true American, this was no duchess unless un-less through accident of matrimony. Rut indubitably she was a dragon. Miss Carteret was quick to endue the lady with a mental nickname, "the Dowager Dragon," a term whose asperity as-perity she modified by the admission that, if dragonish, she was most probably prob-ably a dear. Then she seemed conscious con-scious that she had been staring steadfastly, stead-fastly, and for a time far too long, at the subject of her reverie. "I beg your pardon," she murmured, averting her eyes. "I'd rather you didn't," said the Dowager Dragon brusquely. "If you apologize, I'll have to I've been staring star-ing every whit as hard as you, my dear and I never apologize." The conceit con-ceit relished; the lady rolled It over her tongue and paraphrased, "I may be rude, I may be wrong; but admit it? Never!" Then she laughed heartily. hear-tily. Miss Carteret ventured a smile. "I was thinking " she offered In conclusive conclu-sive amendment. "Believe me, I saw that," the other interrupted, "and more: I read your thoughts quite plainly." "Oh, no !" the girl protested In alarm. "But yes, my dear. You think ing that in nie you'd caught something of a tartar. Now weren't you? Rut a hand-painted baric doesn't necessarily neces-sarily imply a venomous bite. And if my complexion is candidly artful must a woman look her age or lose caste? I do wear a wig; but think what a fright I should be without one I On the other hand, my figure and eyes and teeth are all my own," the last were frankly exhibited in an infectious laugh, "and so Is my heart. In short, at my worst I'm a perfectly respectable old gossip Rut gracious, child ! how you do run on !" With this bewildering reproach, the Dowager Dragon rose, and producing produc-ing an impressive hunch of keys, began to unlock her various pieces of hand luggage. "Really," she pursued, "you don't give one a chance to ask a single question. Here you've dragged out of nie the most private bones in my skeleton skele-ton cupboard without so much as telling tell-ing nie your name. No matter: you won't refuse it when you know mine. It's ReggarstalT Amelia widow. Now, as Peter Traft says, what do you know about that?" Miss Carteret knew nothing whatever what-ever about that, and owned her Ignorance Igno-rance with a look of blankness that earned an indulgent chuckle. "Confess you have never heard of me ! Rut that's only because you're English." "Oh, but I'm not!" Miss Carteret insisted Impulsively. "My mother's patents were English ; hut I" Here she choked in undisguised dismay. dis-may. Rut her companion wasn't looking look-ing didn't, indeed, need to look: such is the resource of one ripe in the knowledge of humanity. "Go on, my dear. Tell 'me all as well now as later. You will, anyway, in the end and if you don't, I'll engage en-gage to find you out for myself. Ry the way, your name would help." "Lid " Miss Carteret announced Incoherently, In-coherently, stopping abruptly as though half-choked by the monosyllable. monosyl-lable. "How very odd !" commented Mrs. Beggarstaff with a straight face. "Miss Lid ! Almost as bizarre as Beggar-staff. Beggar-staff. But that's my own fault: I married it with my hearing unimpaired. unim-paired. But Lid ! I never " "My name isn't Lid !" the girl interrupted in-terrupted indignantly. "I never said so. Something was tickling my throat. My name is Lucy .Carteret." "Sorry I misunderstood and glad. Lucy Carteret's much prettier niid ah human. The Maryland Cartcrcls, I hope?" "Oh, no," said the girl hastily. "Too bad; It's a good family. Let me see there are no Carterets worth mentioning In New York. Virginia branch, perhaps?" "Oh, no." The iterated denial was less bold than lis original; Miss Carteret was beginning to be sorry she hadn't waited wait-ed for a later steamer, as well as that she had thought It necessary, not to say romantic, to adopt a pseudonym to tit the initials on her luggage. "Then you can't be anybody I" Mrs. Beggarstaff asserted vigorously. "Too bad. Unless possibly," she brightened, "you come of the English family? There are, I believe, some Carterets In Hertfordshire" "No!" the persecuted young woman said firmly. "I told you I was an American and if the matter is of any importance, I'm perfectly willing to admit I'm nobody." "Don't be cross with an inquisitive old woman, my dear." The Beggar-staflian Beggar-staflian smile was very fetching. Miss Carteret's indignation melted before it. "I'm only trying to find out if we haven't friends in common. Who are your friends on board? I know everybody, every-body, and " "I'm traveling alone," the girl Interposed Inter-posed meekly, "and to the best of my knowledge I don't know a soul on the ship." Mrs. Beggarstaff chose shrewdly to disapprove. "That's not right ! You're too young and good-looking to travel without at least a chaperon. These transatlantic boats are all alive with advonl urcrs. Luckily, you now have nie unless, perhaps, you're too high-spirited high-spirited to utilize an old woman's interest?" in-terest?" "You're very kind," Miss Carteret murmured not altogether insincerely. She was too intelligent to he blind to t lie advantage of having so thoroughpaced thorough-paced a Dowager Dragon to protect and advise her. And she was anything any-thing but anxious to incur ill-will by refusing an offer that, however forward, for-ward, seemed unquestionably to be dictated by the kindliest spirit. "I'm glad you think so or have the grace to say so, at- least. So that's settled. Now tell me more about yourself. your-self. Is this your first crossing?" "It's my first trip home." Tlalnly no help for it: with this persistently per-sistently friendly body catechizing her, she might as well now as later stand and deliver some account of herself. "Your first trip home? That means you've been over a long time?" And in very short order Mrs. Beggarstaff has the confidence of Lucy Carteret, and that . young lady is telling the story of her life. Don't miss the next installment. (to be; continued.) |