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Show one might nlmost call It biology) of the actress troupe that had fairly dynamited the peace of the ship. "My dear boy," she said, knitting till you could bnrdly see needles or fingers, "everybody thinks you did the bravest No. I won't If you don't want me to. But It WAS. We nil have the highest opinion. . . But you see, Miss GIn-SIing I think her proper name If there's anything proper in the question, which Is doubtful doubt-ful I mean, her name on the bills Is Genevieve Treacher well, Gin-SHug, or Jinny, or Genevieve, and her two friends, have simply captured all the eligible men ; and w hat. 1 ask you, what does a respectable parent bring her daughters away from the Sidney winter and up to China for, unless you know? Do you remember that too charming joke In an old Punch, about the child looking at a picture of the arena In Rome, and telling Its mother that there was 'one poor lion that hadn't got a Christian'? My dear boy, there are quite a lot of those poor lions, or lionesses, on the ship, ever since Brisbane, when these ladles go on. They haven't had a look-in with them. The ship's officers, who are simply meant to flirt with, and the rich planters who ought to marry, and the smart civil service folk not sends It like a Matthew's death-ray straight at the ''outsider" whom she wishes to destroy, and no armor of self-respect, of conscious value In the things that are not mean, avails against it. It pierces. Mrs. Laurier pierced me. But a man may fight when wounded. I answered an-swered ber look by getting up from my seat, a'nd making a step forward. What I meant was to Join the morning walk of herself and her daughter. I knew Pia now; I had a right to speak. . . And, gods of youth and beauty, but she was ensnaring, that pale-blue morning on the seal She was dragging her step; holding, hold-ing, a little, back. I would have been beside her In another moment "Good morning, Mr. Amory I Is It possible you don't know me, after saving me from a watery and fishy death no more than yesterday afternoon after-noon !" It was "Gin-Sling." She had gone to her cabin, exhausted, after we reached the ship, and no one had seen her again that evening. Now she appeared, bright as a penny at a show, with her wonderful red hair teased out Into a kind of halo, her thin body cased In some painted, vivid rag; eyes and teeth sparkling, glass bracelets clinking, an anklet and a bell on it jingling, feet dancer's feet they were, small, but too muscular and spread pointing and springing, as If they moved to Invisible music. I think, so did Jinny Treacher through her life; she danced, marched, moved, to music of her own ; ruled her days so far as they were ruled by laws not made of man. I have my reasons for handling her tenderly ; I know what you do not, yet of Jinny. Naturally, I had to answer her. And naturally, too, the mother and daughter moved on, and I was left alone with Jinny Treacher. She did not sit down. She put both feet together, and Jumped high Into the air, two or three times, with Incredible In-credible vivacity. "That's how I feel," she said. "I always feel like that when the sun shines. Can't live In the dark. I was born in Sydney, where It's daylight when It Is daylight, day-light, and I've got the sun in me bones. Singapore's where we're bound for; I and my friends. 'The Chinese Butterfly,' company number three. One of their girls has married and one died, and another wants to leave. So little me and mine come in, bo-cause bo-cause the managing director of the company's a friend of ours." I was not interested ; I was raging over the loss of my chance of speaking speak-ing with Pia but you never knew Gin-Sling, if you think one could stand beside her, see her look Into your eyes, and remain indifferent. She went to the head of any man, as swiftly swift-ly as the drink after which she had, most appropriately been named. She went to mine. But I didn't care. I knew I should be sober again. There was that . in the blue eyes of Pia to sober me after a dozen of Jinny's cocktails. And it came into my mind there and then I who had never wanted to marry before that this was what true marriage might mean. Something that could hold a man in spite of himself, in spite of a world of Jinny Treachers. Certainly. Rest. Gin-Sling, however, had no mind to be neglected. "Take me for a walk," she said, half shutting her eyes and shooting fire at me from under heavily-blacked lashes. She had beautiful sensuous eyelids, round and deep as white shells ; they flickered constantly as she looked at you. She was one flicker from head to foot; a human flame. . . . I marched with her round the decks, and If anything could have made me forget Pia and her mother down below, that progress would have done it. It was like walking with royalty, to walk with Genevieve Treacher. Men shot looks of black envy, women glanced jealously aside. And I realized, what perhaps I had not understood before, that yesterday's yester-day's Incident had made me something of a celebrity ; something worth the throw of a handkerchief. . . . We strolled and talked, I don't know what about I didn't realize how long we had been walking, till I saw Mrs. Laurier come up from breakfast again. If she had looked at me chillingly before, be-fore, her eyes were freezing now. She swept Jinny Treacher with a glance that should have turned the girl to a pillar of ice. I think Jinny felt It ; but in sheer bravado, she turned her head, stopped almost in Mrs. Lauder's Lau-der's path, and remarked defiantly I "Well, here I am. What do you think of me?" ! The main companion doorwa; was Just beside me. Like a coward, I slipped through It, and fled. I don't i know to this day what happened ; I only know that as I hurried down ths staircase, I saw Mrs. Laurier pass- ' Ing on, undisturbed. (TO BE CONTINUED) I 1 BLACK 1 I SHEEP'S I I GOLD I by I ;J Beatrice Grimshaw $ V lllustrationt by Iruin Myer $c 8 ;:; S Copyright by Hughes ,i Massie & Co. W WNU Service M "5 THE STORY On a pleasure trip In eastern waters, Philip Amory, English World war veteran, now a trader on the Island of Papua, New Guinea, plunges overboard to save the life of a musical comedy actress, known as "Gin-Sling." CHAPTER II 2 I awoke next morning with a name npon my Hps; a name I had heard the night before, "Pia Laurier." It seemed to me as it does still the sweetest, daintiest girl's name in the world. I knew all about it, too, how Miss Pia Laurier, of the blue eyes and the black shingle, had had an Italian grandmother; how the grandmother had bequeathed her a profile and a pretty fortune and a prettier name ; how, in consequence, Miss Pia was of more Importance in her family one of the New South W7ales squatter families than elder brothers and sisters; sis-ters; how much her parents thought of her, and how very, very carefully they had brought her up. She was one felt It In one's bones a very reincarnation of that gracious, gra-cious, titled dame from historic Verona who had set her mark upon the Lau-riers Lau-riers fifty years ago. Pia, like her would be a house-mistress ; she would be a mother; she would be, above and beyond all, the supreme,- rare lover, pure as springwater, and passionate as a red Verona rose from the balcony bal-cony of Verona's deathless girl. . . . It didn't come as a shock quite the contrary, because I am Twentieth century, cen-tury, almost all to remember that this modern Juliet could round up cattle cat-tle with the best of her brothers, and owned a diamond bracelet won on the public race course of Itandwick. It made me all the more In love with her. Because, of course, that minute when I met her eyes as I came up the gangway, and knew that my foolish feat had won me Pia's heart. I suppose one is a little mad, when one is asleep, to judge by the general craziness of dreams. I suppose, therefore, there-fore, that one Is half a little mad, when half awake. It was the arrival of early morning coffee that spoiled half-waking dreams, for me. Once I had drunk It, the clear cold light of reason seemed Co mingle, In that cabin, with the red of growing day; to tell me that I had better get up and bathe and dress, and remember, of all things, that I was leaving the ship tomorrow. "When you are about It," added that chill monitor, "you might as well recollect recol-lect that you haven't two hundred pounds In the world, no people, now, who matter; no position, and no prospects. pros-pects. Put that In your pipe and smoke it." I had managed an introduction (no easy ship-made friendships for the daughter of the Lauriers! ) and en-Joyed en-Joyed just about five glorious minutes of Pia's company, before the doctor, curse him, came along apologizing and grinning and reminding Pia that It was concert night, and that she was down for Number Two. So we had to break off and hurry into the staring, star-ing, glittering music saloon, In company com-pany with everybody else. There had been no more talk with Pia Laurier that night; for the concert con-cert lasted the usual long time, and when it was over, Pia's relations, somehow, seemed to be everywhere, taonopoli.-ing her maybe by accident, maybe not. And I should have gone very hungry to bed, had it not been 'i for the crust I took with me. That crust was Pia's song. She sang part of Liza Lehmann's exquisite bird-Song bird-Song cycle; sending me to my cabin with the sound in my ears of my lady's lovely little soprano telling the tale of the wood-dove and his mate who had nothing at all on which to start a home, but joyously, they put a few sticks together, and sang "it'll do It'll do!" . I suppose 1 was vain. I suppose all mtn of a certain youth and vitality ire. At any rate. I thought that Tia meant the song for me. So, next morning, I was agog to get hold of Mrs. Kipple, good-natured newsmonger, and learn from her anything any-thing that might help me in mi .king W2y with Pia. For I recognized, now, that the stars in their courses were fighting against me. I bad only one day, A night, and half a day left; if I was, In that brief time, to forge a chain that should In some measure link our lives, I needed every possible possi-ble advantage I could make or steal. By Wednesday noon, the play would be over; the male Cinderella would have lost his pumpkin coach and gone home to sit in the ashes again; and there would be no fairy godmother to find him a second chance. Mrs. Kipple could talk. She did not confine herself to Laurier biography; he stooped to a lower range, and gave Ian also biography (gingered up till r Gin-Sling, However, Had No Mind to Be Neglected. a chance ! Jinny Treacher and her girls have the lot. How can any .of the Laurier crowd compete against sea-horse races? And they don't stop at sea-horse racing; 1 could tell you a tale " She proceeded to tell it; I can only say that the biology came in at that point, and made me feel rather fidgety. But Genevieve, or Gin-Sling, whatever what-ever one chose to call her was not business. I wanted to hear about some one else. "Are the Lauriers going far?" I asked. "China and Japan ; getting away from the Sydney cold weather. They go somewhere every winter, and always al-ways take a daughter with them. It's Pia's turn this time. They married off a daughter last year and I daresay they'll get rid of Pia this time." Get rid of Pia I "Is she engaged?" I asked, looking the kindly gossip fair in the face. "Pia? I suppose more or less; a girl of ber sort has always some one on a string. There was some talk of Sir Richard Fanshaw, the flying man, but I imagine the mother was against it. Not enough title. He's fairly rich promoted a few successful companies com-panies In New Guinea, and so on but he Is only a war knight, without much family behind him. Pia ought to be at least a countess. You know, a girl like that simply must marry Into the very best set ; she would be a fish out of water anywhere else. "There's the second bell," said Mrs. Kipple, and got up. "If you don't hurry," she added warnlngly, "you don't get the best of the fruit." But I did not hurry. I didn't care If I never saw fruit agaia Pia Laurier and her mother were coming up the promenade deck. I thought the elder lady looked at me coldly. She was not a scrap like Pia, save in those small resemblances of carriage, shape of head and poise of limbs that run through families. Jinny Treacher had called me "the bravest man in the world," but, under that look of Mrs. Laurler's I felt my courage crumble, and my heart turn to water. The woman of hard-won position may. be a snob, but never can be weak ; she has sold her soul, and collected col-lected the price, and the price Is what the devil bas offered, from time Immemorial Im-memorial power. She uses It; she |