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Show . : CHAPTER I The Purser Who Interested Himself in Crime. That windy night only one passenger passen-ger put out from Dover In the little wave-buffeted tender to add his name to the many bound for New York in the waiting liner. As ho climbed tue swaying ladder to the Brabant's deck, Anthony Trent was glad of this absence of scrutiny. More thai, three years absent from bis native land, he was again about to place himself under her jurisdiction, ne was conscious that after a 'ong period of freedom from fear there was again an aura of uneasiness enwrapping enwrap-ping him. If there were those on board the Brabant waiting to arrest :Jm they could choose their time. She was not a fast boat and there would be many days and nights to pass ere the highlands of Navesink caire in sight. Now that the tender had whistled her farewell and was on her way, no escape was possible. For six days he would be as carefully Imprisoned as though the walls of an impregnable Jail rose around him. The chief steward was summoned early to Trent's stateroom. "I want my meals served here," Trent said, "and I want to see the passenger list in case any of my friends are aboard."' There was not a name on the passenger pas-senger list which awakened old memories. mem-ories. And there was not a man among the ship's officers he remembered. remem-bered. Apparently Anthony Trent, once known as the master criminal, had come as a stranger aboard a strange ship. The thought was curiously curi-ously comforting. In a week he would be looking over the treetops ot '"'en-tral '"'en-tral park after an absence of four years. Four years i It was as a soldier he had left America. What vivid years they bad been since the Leviathan pulled out of her Hoboken dock and took him and thousands more to France. He had fought. He had been decorated for valor in the field. He had put the old life, outside the law, behind him. And then when the war was over he had gone to England: ha had found happiness there, and thin one black day he had lost it. It '"as a uar no longer in love with life who journeyed back to his native land and desired solitude. When the passengers observed Anthony An-thony Trent and were not able to recognize rec-ognize him In the dining-saloon .here were many questions asked about him. The overtures that were made were all courteously rejected. It was plain he walked the decks for exercise, not companionship. At thirty-four Trent was a presentable figure of a man. He carried himself uncommonly well, but there was little of the drawing-room exquisite in his slender figure. The trainer of athletes would have sen in his straight and spare figure one of aose slender men whose muscles were wira strung, whose nerves were perfectly attuned to uncommon effort, and whose physical courage was high. On the second evening'out came the first disagreeable Incident of the voyage. voy-age. Trent was sitting in a chair before be-fore his open door purling at a big briar pipe. He looked up as an officer passed. It was the purser, whom he had not hitherto noticed, and as tbeie was about the purser's manner an indication in-dication that he desired to chat, Trent seized the moment when t' e officer spoke for a moment to a passing sailor, to shut his door. A little later there was a tap on the panel. Trent knew it vas the purser. "Come In," he shouted. The purser was a man of middle age and of middle stature. He bad a shrewd, quizzical face, humorous and strong; and there was a touch of the bulldog in his chin. "I was almost sure I smelled Han-key," Han-key," he said, smiling as he looked at the red-labeled tin on the table, "and my heart warms toward those who know that mixture. I hope you dor't think I'm taking a liberty?" "Glad .o see you." Trent said, and truthfully, "sit down nnd fill up." His manner was thoroughly amiable. ami-able. It was as though a lonely 'man welcomed the prospect of a chat with another. In truth, Anthony Trent was disquieted lie could not feel sure that the purser had followed a trail o' IhinUey's mixture all over the ship and run it to ground as be was explaining ex-plaining Rut the odds were 'bat ihere was nothing to be alarmed about. If 1 1 1 o officer had any unstated reason Trent wanted to know as soon as possible pos-sible 'Comfortable here. I trust?" asked the purser. "Couldn't be more so. 1 usually travel oa the big boats for the reason one assumes they are more comfortable, comfort-able, hut I've evidently been wrong." "This trip is a sor of holiday for me." the purser said. "I've been on the big ones re :wenty years and I'd gone stale. A g.'eat school for studying study-ing life," the purser mused, "n ship Is F.ven a comparatively small one like this, which Is only 12..'00 tonnage. Is fuller of strange people than a city with ten times its population. Put perhaps these things don't interest yon ?" "What sort of things?" "Crime in general. Crime has always al-ways interested me." the purser went on genially, "and I've seen a lot of It. I suppose a man like me sees as much ef clever crookdom as a detective. By WYNDHAM MARTYN Copyright by Barse ft Hoplctna WNU Service I'll have some more tobacco if I may." "Help yourself." Trent said cordially. cor-dially. He seemed unperturbed. "I'm Interested In crime only If the crime or criminal Is unusual." "The trouble with a purser's life is that he often sees just a chapter of crime," mused b' caller. Trent puffed steadily at his pipe. Although he was convinced that this talk ot crime , was but a pretext and the purser's visit made for some purpose pur-pose unknown, there was no tell-tale twitch of any facial muscle to betray his uneasiness. For the first time for more than two years he felt he was In danger, and, as always, he called fortli his reserve of strength and waited the outcome unflinching. fue purser went on: "Sometimes the chapters that open so promisingly turn out most disappointing. Once in Liverpool. It was on the Poitania. Just as we were starting a young man jumped overboard." "Was he drowned?" "No. He Jumped onto the landing stage nnhurt. That was a -curious case, Mr. Trent. He had engaged one of the best staterooms aboard. It was filled with his baggage, and he had even selected his seat at the table and tipped his stewards. Of course Trent Puffed Steadily at His Pipe. he may have done that to give strength to the theory that his action was unpremeditated. A clever crook would think of such things. But I wirelessed to the office and found out that he had satisfied them. He had either seen the face, or heard the voice ,of a long-lost relative and jumped down twelve feet to make sure of it. Some said the man was a crook who saw a detective be feared, and jumped overboard to escape blm. Others that he had heard the voice of the wife be had deserted. I said to myself that some day I should get all the information I needed, and see the last episode of that serial." The purser leaned forward and tapped Trent's knee. "Mr. Trent, just why did you risk a broken leg that evening eve-ning In Liverpool?" It was characteristic of Trent that he was ready to face danger when he saw It. At all costs he must not evade it now. The purser, who was a resolute reso-lute and educated man, was possessed of some knowledge he had not yet told Trent, which had directly to do with his safety. His smile had no anxiety In -it. What the purser told him seemed to be of no special interest. in-terest. "I have almost, forgotten the Incident," Inci-dent," he remarked. "It was three years ago almost." "Less," said the purser, "a good, bit less." "Maybe you are right," Trent conceded, con-ceded, "and in any case you seem to recall it to mind more readily than I." The purser sighed a little. It seemed almost as though he were disappointed. dis-appointed. And. odd:y enough, the keen searching look gave place to one of kindliness. "Mr. Trent," he said earnestly. "1 hoped you would have threatened to kick me out of your stateroom. A man who had nothing to fear would have done that You may or may not : believe me, but I wish yon had beea such a man. I wish you had asked me angrily what the devil your business busi-ness had to do with me. Instead yon have not shown any anger at alL Mr Trent, that Is the action of a man whe Is afraid." Trent still preserved his air of ease. But he was wondering how it was the official bad come so close to the truth. He would have given a great deal to have been able to betray genuine anger. an-ger. And he did not understand why the purser seemed to be sorry for hia Plight. As In other days, the atmosphere of danger was about him. And he was in that inescapable thing, a ship crossing cross-ing the Atlantic. "You have not yet told me all you know." "1 know about Captain Sutton," said the purser gravely. Trent's action In stooping to strike a match on his shoe's heel was to gain a momentary respite. He did not .know quite what his face revealed to the observer. Captain Sutton was the only man alive so far as be knew who had definite knowledge that Anthony An-thony Trent bad won the title "master "mas-ter criminal" by a series of crimes so unique and skillful that he had never been In the toils of justice. Two other oth-er men had known Austin the butler, whose grave was marked by one of a row of white crosses In France, and Devlin, the detective, who had closed his lips as death approached, and left Trent secure. "Captain Sutton," he echoed. "Are you talking of my old adjutant?" "I am talking of the Capt. Frank Sutton whom you saw on the Poitania, and jumped overboard to escape." Trent was silent for a moment. He knew Sutton was proud of him for the mention In dispatches and the Croix de Guerre he had won to the honor of the regiment. Sutton had promised prom-ised him that he would say nothing. Why, then, this talk of the former adjutant? ad-jutant? He turned to his visitor. "I don't yet know your name," he said. "Warne," said the purser, "Brunton Warne." "Then listen to me a moment, Mr. Warne. When I tell you 1 did not know Captain Sutton was aboard I am speaking the truth. If I had known he was a passenger I should have been delighted to see him. Springing overboard was one or the most unpremeditated things I ever did. I heard underneath me the voice of a man who saved my life. That I swear on my honor." "Explain why Sutton Jumped to your rescue so ardently when your motives were attacked in the smoking-room. I don't mind telling you we all thought you a crook, and said so. Captain Sutton constituted himself your counsel, and actually smacked Colliver, the Troy millionaire, across the mouth because he continued to dwell on the subject." "Dear old Sutton," Anthony Trent said gratefully. "He has been a good friend to me. Some day I hope I shall be able to repay him." "When the Poitania reached quarantine, quaran-tine, Captain Sutton, your friend, was arrested. He Is now In Sing Sing prison. Embezzlement and attempted murder were the charges." Trent was stricken dumb. Sutton had never been an Intimate friend. Rather he recalled him as a benefactor. benefac-tor. He bad know him as a wealthy man of vast Interests secured by position posi-tion and fortune from the temptations incidental to poverty. To learn he was found guilty of embezzlement and murder, or attempted murder, came as a shock, a blow of tremendously devitalizing power. "I see your point of view," Trent said presently. Are you working against me?" "Not for a moment," Warne answered. an-swered. "If there's one thing that would please me. It would be to find I've been barking up a wrong tree." Anthony Trent was now superbly at ease. "My dear Mr. Warne," he said urbanely, ur-banely, "you have been barking up a wrong tree this time, although no doubt as a rule you don't waste your tfforts. It amounts to this. You think my knowledge of the embezzler, Captain Sutton, suspicious. Is that all?" "Well, there was your method of leaving the Poitania," the other man said, almost apologetically. "Apart from that there is nothing else?" "Absolutely none." The purser's air was quite apologetic. (TO BE CONTINX'ED.) |
