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Show i t v 3 I JO lfBSSV' Story of jj paBa3.-T3Mnnan:-uiwiiii' i z3K3xffli3BSi3&tBRX&f7E7Ztt&&w?7 J. OQ2Ly 3.YIQ- , ji of All Days i i GEORGE AGNEW CHAMBERLAIN ! I . 2 Copyright by The Century Company tliii'k woolen socks. No boots. Of ionise, I didn't notice till that till afterwards. af-terwards. In his hand he carried a sjambok. Suddenly the staring darky seemed to feel him coming but. before he could turn, the sjambok quirt came down with the clinging sting of hide on flesh. We saw the blood spurt. The negro toppled without a cry. He fell inside, caught on a truss, clung, and finally with a struggle drew himself him-self up on to a stringer. A shout of laughter went up from his fellows. Bodsky and I had heard it often the laugh of the African for his brother broth-er in pain. And then they fell to work again. The blnck with the blood trickling off his back rested long enough to get his breath and then climbed back to his place on the girder. gir-der. He was grinning. Don't ask me to explain it. Men have died trying try-ing to explain Africa. "The white man had stopped and half turned. He stood, a little straddling, strad-dling, on the girder, and switched the sjambok to and fro. His eyes were blazing. From his lips dropped a patter pat-ter of all the vile words in Landln, Swahili and a half a dozen other dialects dia-lects the words that a white man learns first if he listens to natives. The jargon seemed to incite the blacks. They worked as clumsily as ever but harder. They started to sing, as the African does when he's getting up a special burst of speed. Then the white man walked off the girder on our side, out of the way. 'Now's our time,' I whispered to Bodsky. He shook his head slowly from side to side but I was already under way. I walked up to the white man and asked him if he could let us across. He glanced around as if he hadn't seen our outfit till thai moment and then he looked me square In the eyes. 'We knock off at six,' h( said, and that was all. "I turned back. I'd been angrj before but never as angry as that Bodsky was already getting up the flj of a tent. T saw it coming,' he sale with his quiet little laugh that yot never bear when there's anything tc laugh at. 'Look here, Bodsky,' 1 said, 'let's walk to the old crossing. And be answered, 'My dear chap, I'n going to sit right here. I wouldn' miss this for a shot at elephant. Thai man is Ten Fercent Wayne.' " 'Where'd you meet him?' I asked " 'Never met him,' said Bodsky 'but I've heard of him.' So bad I We sat down together under the flj on a couple of loads and propped twi whiskies-and-warm-water on anothe: load in front of us and watched Wayni while Wayne watched his men. " 'Suppose we offer him a drink,' : I said and ran the sweat off my eye brows with my finger. "Bodsky looked at me pityingly. 'Si you want to get burned again. Doei that man look to you as though hi was thinking about a drink? Well, le me tell you be isn't. Every bit of hin is thinking about that bridge ever; minute. God! I haven't seen met driven like that since I was a boy Once more theri's something new it Africa! And I've never seen a mat drive himself like that, anywhere.' Al the Mongolian and Tatar that is sail to lurk in every Russian seemed ti be leaking out of Bodsky's narrowei eyes. "We sat there and drank and smokei and sweated, and I sulked. Every one in a while Bodsky would say some thing. First it was: 'Those boys ar from the South. Must have brough them with him.' Then it was: 'H knows something about the sun. H' keeps his head in the shade-spot fron that lonely palm.' And finally: 'Col lingeford, I never despised your intel lect before. What are you sulkin; for? Can't you see what's up? Can' you understand that if a man wil stand for two hours shifting an ind at a time with the shade rather thai ' disturb half a dozen niggers nt wor to go and get a helmet he isn't goin; to call those niggers off to let a coupl of loafers like us crawl across hi girders? What you and I are starin at is just plain common garden wor with a capital W, stark naked an ugly, but it's great.' "And right there I saw the light. T j us two the mystery of Ten Percen Wayne was revealed. He could driv ' men. He could make bricks withou ' straw. While work was on, nothin ' else mattered. Right aud wrong wer 1 measured by the needs of that bridg 5 aud death was too good for the shirl er. And with the light I forgot tb ' brute In the man tearing along th J dizzy height of the girder to lash ' loafer and only remembered that h had risked his life to avenge just on moment stolen from the day's work." 1 The stem of Collingeford's win glass snapped between his finger "I'm sorry," he said, laying the piece t aside. He smiled a little nervousl j on the three tense faces before hin 2 "I don't tell that story often. It goe j. too deep. Not everybody understand Some people call Wayne no better tha 3 a murderer; but I'm not one of then g And Bodsky snysi there have been . lot of murderers he'd like to take 1 g his club." 1 "J. T., there's somebody listenlu s at the door," isaul till captain. "Bee e there some time." r J. Y. swung around and threw ope f the door. He sprang forward an I caught Clem In the act of flight. E 1 brought her back into the room an t sat down, holding her upright besic him. J. Y. was proud and for a m .T ment Collingeford's presence gallc 1 him. "What were you doing, Clem' (- he asked. u Clematis was in that degree of en bnrrassment and disarray whit ) makes lovely youth a shade more lov g ly. Her brown hair was tumble ;- about her face and down her bac d Her cheeks were flushed and her th; d white neck seemed to tremble aboi the deep red of her sllgntry yoked frock. Her lips were moist and parted in excitement. She was sixteen and beautiful beyond the reach of hackneyed hack-neyed phrases. The four men fixed their eyes upon her, and she dropped hers. "I was eavesdropping," she said in a voice that was very low but clear. "Why, Clem!" said J. Y. gravely. Clem looked around on the four men. She did not seem afraid. Unconsciously Unconscious-ly they waited for her to go on, and she did. "Mr. Colllngeford was telling about Alan. I heard Charley say he was going to. I shall always eavesdrop eaves-drop when anyone tells about Alan." For a second her auditors were stunned by the audacity. Collingeford's Collinge-ford's face was the first to light up and his hand came down on the table with a bang. "Bully for you, young 'unl" he cried and his clear laugh could be beard on the lawn. Before it was over, the judge joined in, the captain grunted his merriest grunt and J. Y. patted Clem's shoulder and smiled. Clem was of the salt of the earth among womankind the kind that waits to weep till the battle is over and then becomes a thousand times more dear in her weakness. Her big eyes had been welling with tears aud now tbey jumped the bander just as Nance rushed in and cried, "What are you all laughing at?" Then she caught 1 sight of Clem. From her she looked around on the men. "You four big hulking brutes," she said. "Come to 1 me, Clem, you darling. What have they been doing to you? There, there, ' don't cry. Men are silly tilings. What if they did laugh at you?" Clem was sobbing on Nance's shoul- der. "It isn't that," she gasped. "I don't mind that! But Mr. Colllngeford Colllnge-ford ca-called me a 'young one.' " The three gray-heads kept their faces with difficulty. Colllngeford ' leaped to his feet. "My dear young ' lady Miss Clematis " he stammered, "my word, now! I didn't mean it. ' Swear I didn't. I'll do anything if ! you'll only stop crying. Do stop and , listen to me. I'll grovel." It took him an hour to make his . peace. r Many they were who drank at the 5 fountain of hospitality in Maple House and to all, quiet Mrs. J. Y. held out I the measured cup of weleome with - impartial hand. But once in a while one came who made the rare appeal j to the heart. Such a one was Col-3 Col-3 lingeford. For all his wanderings, his i roughing, and his occasional regres-t regres-t sion to city drawing rooms and ultra-i ultra-i country houses, Colllngeford fitted into 7 the Hill he belonged, l On Sunday night they were gath-. gath-. ered on the lawn, all but Clem who l sat at the piano beside an open win-l win-l dow and poured her girl's voice out 1 over the rippling keys. Her voice was 1 thin and clear like a mountain brook d hurrying over pebbles and like the 1 brook it held the promise of coming fullness. 1 Colllngeford sat by Mrs. J. Y., a lit-e lit-e tie apart from the others. They had f not talked. Mrs. J. Y. broke a long e silence when she said, in a full low t voice that somehow seemed related tc e Clem's thin trill. "We are very quiei e here." a Colllngeford looked thoughtfully ai .- his glowing cigar end. "The best parts - of life are quiet," he answered. "Do you really like it?" said Mrs. t J. Y., almost shyly. "Englishmen of d your class generally fall to the lol a of our landed and chateauxed." a "My dear Mrs. Wayne,"- said Col-k Col-k lingeford, "I've been sitting here irj 5 a really troubled silence trying to thini e out how to ask you to make it a week 3 for me instead of a week-end." s Mrs. J. Y.'s laugh was happy bul low. It did not disturb the others d Colllngeford went on. "I know Amer ica pretty well for an Englishman 0 I thought I had done the whole coun try, from Albuquerque to Newport e But you are right. When we're no1 l' roughing it out West, we visiting Eng-S Eng-S lishmen are pretty apt to be rubbing e up against the gilded high-lights ol e the landed and the chateauxed. This' :" Collingeford waved bis cigar to em e brace the whole of Red Hill "is some e thing new to me and old. It's the a sort of thing Englishmen think ol e when they are far from home. I hav e never seen it before in America." "And yet," said Mrs. J. Y., "then e are thousands of quiet homes in Amer 3- lea Just like it in spirit. In spite o; 9 all our divorces all our national linen y washing in public our homes are to i- day what they always have been, thi -9 backbone of the country. The socia 3- world is in turmoil everywhere ane u America is in the throes no less thai 3- England. Our backbone is under i a strain and some think it is breaking 0 but I don't." She turned her sof eyes on Collingeford and smiled g "There," she added, "I have beei n polemic but one seldom has the chanci to spread the good fame of one's coun n try. I am glad you can give us i ,d week instead of a week-end." ie Collingeford heard someone speal d of Mrs. Lansing and he said to Mrs le J. Y., "I know a Mrs. Lansing a beau o- tiful and scintillating young person 'd the sort of effervescence that flies ove: !" to Europe and becomes the dismay o our mart women and the fate of man; a- men." :h Mrs. J. Y. for a second was puz e- zled. "That isn't Mrs. Lansing it'i 'd Mrs. Gerry you're thinking of. Mrs k. Lansing Is her mother-in-law. Thej in live next door." e (TO BE CONTINUED.) 8YNOPSIS. 5 Alan Wayne 1h sent away from Red Hill, his home, by his unci-. J. Y.. us a moral failure. Clem runs after him In a tangle or short skirts to hid hlrn good-by. Captain Cap-tain Wayne tells Alan of the falling of the Waynes. Clem drinks Alan's heallh on his birthday. Judge Hoaley buys a picture fur Alix Lansing. The Judge defends Alan In tils business with his employers. Alan and Allx meet at sea. homeward bound, and mart a flirtation which becomes serious. At home, Nance Sterling asks Alan to go away from Alix. Allx Is taken to task by Gerry, her husband, for her conduct with Alan and detlca him. (ierry. as he thinks, sei s Allx and Alan eloping, drops everything, every-thing, and goes to Pernambuco. Allx leaves Alan on the train and goes home to find that Gerry has d isappeared. Gerry leaves Pernambuco and goes to Piranhas. On a canoe trip he meets a native girl. The judge fails to trace Oerry. A baby Is born to Allx. The native girl takes Gerry to her home. CHAPTER X Continued. She pointed to the house and then to Iierself and smiled. He understood 1he pantomime and nodded. When they reached the house a withered and wrinkled little woman came out to the arched veranda to meet them. She looked Gerry over shrewdly and then held out her hand, ne shook it listlessly. They walked through a long dividing hall. On each side were large rooms, empty, save one where a big bed, a wash-stand, and an old bureau with mildewed glass, were grouped like an oasis In a desert. They reached the kitchen. It was evidently the living room of the house. A hammock ham-mock cut off one corner. Chairs were drawn up to a rough, uncovered table. A stove was built into the masonry and a cavernous oven gaped from the massive wall. At the stove was an old negress. making coffee with shaky deliberation. On the floor sat an old darky clad only from his waist down in such trousers trou-sers as Gerry was wearing, except that they were soiled and tattered, lie looked up and fastened his eyes on Gerry and then struggled to his feet. Dim recollections of some bygone by-gone white master brought a gleam into bis bleary eyes. He raised his tiand in the national gesture of child to parent, slave to master. "Blessing, master, blessing." Gerry had learned the meaning of the quaint custom. "God bless thee," he answered tin badly jumbled Portuguese. The girl and the wrinkled woman looked at ltim, surprised, and then smiled at each other as women smile at the first steps of a child. They made him sit down at the table and placed before him crisp rusks of manioc flour and steaming coffee whose splendid aroma triumphed tri-umphed over the sonlidness of the scene and through the nostrils reached the palate with anticipatory touch. It was sweetened with dark, pungent sirup and was served black in a capacious capa-cious bowl, as though one could not drink too deeply of the elixir of life. Gerry ate ravenously and sipped the coffee, at first sparingly, then greedily. The old negress fluttered nervously about the stove, nursing its inadequate fire of charcoal. Her eyes were big with wonder at the capacity of the white master. The old negro had sunk back to his seat on the floor. The two -white women stood and watched Gerry. Ger-ry. The more he ate the more they urged. Gerry set down the empty bowl with a sigh. The rusks had been delicious. Before the coffee the name of nectar dwindled to impotency. Its elixir rioted riot-ed in his veins. At the sigh the girl had deftly rolled a cigarette in a bit of corn husk, scraped thin as paper. Now she slipped it into his fingers. The old negress picked up a live coal and, passing it from shaky hand to shaky hand, deposited It on his plate. Gerry lit the cigarette. With the first long contented whiff he smiled. The smile brought stinging recollection. With a frown he Ihrew away the ciga-3 ciga-3 rette and rose from the table. "The brute is fed and laughs," he said aloud and strode from the room. The girl and the little wrinkled woman looked at each other in dismay. They seemed to sense the unintelligible words. The old darky crawled across the floor and possessed himself of the cigarette. Gerry went to seat himself on the steps of the veranda. Before him stretched the fallow valley, beyond It gleamed the black line of the rushing river. To the right were the ruins of a sugar mill and stables. To the left the debris that once had been slaves' quarters. The fields still bore the hummocks, hum-mocks, in rough alignment, that told the story of past years fruitful in cai'e. All was waste, all was ruin. Tin- girl si:piotl to a seat beside him She "oiled a fresh cigarette and then shyly laid a small brown hand on his arm. Gerry looked at her. Her bis brown eyes were sorrowful and plead ing. She held out the cigarette with a little shrug that deprecated the small liess of the offering. Gerry felt a twinge of remorse. He patted the hand that lay on his arm smiled, ami took the cigarette. Tin gh l's face lit up. She called and agalt the negress brought lire. This time Gerry suioUi'd gravely. The girl sa' on beside htm. Her hand lay in his So they sat until the sun passed th( zenith and, slipping over the eaves fell like fire on their bare feet. Gcrr; stood up, pointed to himself and then down the river to the town. The girl shook her head. She made him understand under-stand that he was cut off from the town by an impassable tributary to the great river that he would have to make a long detour inland. Then she swept her hand from the sun to the horizon to show him that the day was too far gone for the journey. He was not much concerned. An apathy seized him at the thought of going back. He felt as though shame had left some visible scar on his countenance coun-tenance that men must see and read. As he stood, thoughtful and detached, the girl grasped his arm with both her bauds and drew his attention to her. Then she gave one sweep of her arm that embraced all the ruin of house aud mill and fields. She pointed to herself. He understood: these things were hers. Then she folded fold-ed her hands and with a gesture of surrender laid them in his. . It was eloquent. There was no mistaking mis-taking her meaning. Gerry was touched. He held both her clasped hands in one of his and put his arm around her shoulders. She fixed her eyes on his face for the answer. Once more Gerry's eyes wandered over all that ruin. After all, he thought, why not? Why not bury his own ruin here in company? But she read no decision in his face though she watched it long. What she saw was debate and for the time it satisfied her. Gerry all that afternoon was very silent and thoughtful silent because there was no one he could talk to, thoughtful because the idea the girl had put into his head was taking shape, aided by a long chain of circumstances. cir-cumstances. He looked back over his covered trail. If he had been some shrewd fugitive from justice he could not have planned it better. His sudden sud-den flight without visiting his home, his faiure to buy a ticket, the subornation subor-nation of the purser with its assurance assur-ance of silence as to his presence or destination, all that had been wiped out by his cablegram to his mother. But then fate had stepped in again and once more blotted out the trail. Some genius had heard his wish. The old Gerry Lansing was dead. Even from himself the old Gerry Lansing had been torn away in a chariot of fire. In the cool of the evening he looked about him. The tiny world into which he had fallen was penurious but self-contained. self-contained. Such fabrics as there were, were homespun from the bolls of a scraggy patch of cotton bushes. A little oil iu a clay dish with a twisted wick of cotton giving forth more smoke than light seemed to fix him In his setting of prehistoric man. The rice, gathered from an enduring bottom, bot-tom, formed with manioc, the backbone back-bone of the household's sustenance. From the outcrops of the abaudoned cane fields, with the assistance of an antediluvian hand-mill and an equally equal-ly antiquated iron pot, tney made the black sirup that served for sugar. Salt, slightly alkaline, was plentiful. A few cows and their progeny lived in the open and lived well, for. -even unfilled, the lands of the valley were rich. An occasional member of the herd was carried car-ried off to market by the old darky. The proceeds bought the very few contributions con-tributions of civilization necessary to the upkeep of the lenten life. Gerry decided. He looked at the girl aud she ran to him. He put his arms around her and gazed with a sort of numbed emotion into her great dark eyes. Those eyes were wells of simplicity, love, fidelity, but below all that there were depths uumeasured and unmeasuriug that gave all and demanded de-manded all. In the mind of the husband who believed himself deserted aud betrayed there no longer existed any barrier between be-tween him and this woman who bad come so strangely into his life. Marriage Mar-riage with her was no wrong to Alix. The last scruples of civilization and of law fell from hltn like a garment thrown aside and he became the husband hus-band of the girl who bad so innocently wooed him. Collingeford gave a sigh of relief when he saw what manner of place 1 was Maple House. As they gathered around the great table for dinner he was the only stranger and he did not 1 feel it. Nance was there with the faint smile of a mother that has just : put her children to bed. Charley Stir- - ling, teasing Clematis, tried to forget 1 that Monday and the city were cominp - together. Mrs. J. Y., with Collingeford Collinge-ford on her right aud the judge ou her i left, held quiet sway over the table aud nodded reassuringty at the old - captain who was making gestures i with his eyes to the effect that a - whisky and soda should be immediate-t immediate-t ly offered to tUL guest. J. Y., pretty gray by now, sat thoughtful, bul i kindly, at the other end of the table , Clem was beside him. f It was not until the men were Bit ting alone after the glass of port, in which all had drunk Collingeford's welcome to that house, that the Judge said casually, "Colllngeford saw Alan In Africa." "Eh! What?" said the captain aroused to sudden interest. "What's that about Alan?" "I ran across Alan Wayne in Africa," Af-rica," said Collingeford, smiling. "Do you want me to tell you about it?" Nance called Charley Stirling out. "You shirker." she said, "come aud sit with me iu the hammock." "Collingeford was just going to tell about meeting Alan iu Africa," said Charley indignantly. And then Nance said "Oh!" and wanted to send him back but be wouldn't go. "Yes," grunted the captain in reply to Collingeford's question and J. Y. nodded as he caught the young man's eye. "Wish you w-ould." he said and leaned forward, his elbows ou the table. Collingeford was one of those men who are sensitive to men. His vocabulary vocab-ulary did not run to piffle but he loved an understanding ear. He looked at the judge's keen but restful fae-e, at the captain's glaring eyes, which somehow some-how had assumed a kindly glint, at J. Y.'s rugged figure, suddenly grown tense, and be knew that Alan Wayne was near to the hearts of these three. He fingered his wine glass. "If I was one of those men." he began, looking at nobody, "who dislike Ten Percent Wayne I wouldn't tell you about him. But I'm not. It took me only two hours to get over hating him and those two hours were spent in a broiling sun at the wrong end of a half-finished bridge. "Prince Bodsky and I were on shikari. We were headed home after a long and unsuccessful shoot in new country and we were as sore and tired and bored with the life of the wild as two old-timers ever get. On the day I'm telling you about we were trek- Rlf fw!) J Gazed With a Sort of Numbed Emo tion. king up a river gorge to a crossing After lunch and the long rest we stil bad ten miles to go to cross and i didn't help tilings to know thai once over we had to come straight bad on the other side. During the firs hour's march iu the afternoon wi heard the strangest souud that eve those wilds gave forth, it was liki hammering on steel but we refused ti believe our ears until a sudden eurvi brought us bang up against the iudis putable fact of a girder-bridge in tin throes of construction. Before tin thought of the sacrilege to the gami country before we could see in thi: noisy monstrosity the root of our re cent bad luck came the glad though that we didn't have to do ten miles U that gorge and ten back. We wouh have whooped except that men don' whoop in Africa it scares the game. "I said the bridge was in the throe of construction. It was just that. It two long girders, reaching from brinl to brink, with their spidery trussc banging underneath, fairly swarmei with sweating figures, and the figure were black. It was that that brough us to a full stop and just when ou eyes were fixed with the intensity o discovery, one of the workers lookei up, saw us, relaxed and gave the loui grunt which stands in Lnndin for 'Jus look at that!' in English. "The babbling and bammerin around him ceased, but while he sti i stared at us, we saw a veritable nr . parition. A white man, bung betwee heaven and the (Japths of the gorgi was racing along the top of the sll : pery girder. His helmet blew off, hun . poised, and then plunged In lonff tiicfc Ing sweeps. The man was dresse In a cotton shirt, white trousers an |