OCR Text |
Show ''- n BEN AMES WILLIAMS ' WILLI AMS W.N.U. FEATURES ' f ;st thnt, trying to ovi'rtiiUo him, ctilliixK his n:ime, she hint to run; mul she slipped mid lUuuuiered in the mud. She cried out to him, even then; but he did not turn, rut Douohoe lifted her to her feet nnd with nwk-wnrd nwk-wnrd luinds scraped mud oil her garments, nnd he said gently: "Let him go, nui'iim! Let the poor mim go!" Then he himself went nfler Angus, An-gus, not seeking to overtake him, keeping ten paces behind. When Robin came back to the hotel, ho-tel, her bewildered thoughts were more in order. She was no longer angry; but she was puzzled now. There had been more than IndilTcr-ence IndilTcr-ence in Angus McPhail's eyes, and more than grief. There had been a cold and furious rage; and it was a specific rage at her! A dozen questions ques-tions filled her mind. She stripped oil her soaked and muddy clothes, and she thought wearily that reasons did not matter. mat-ter. Clearly, she could do nothing to help him, to ease his hurt. She might as well go home. She changed into dry clothes, then went down to consult the clerk. He said the boat would dock at six or half past; would sail at nine. It was already after five. She asked: "Can you get a car to take me down to her?" "There aren't any taxis. Mr. Jen- I I t mf J rs i 1 . '-I'M ! ''j ! I X 4 JSSSSiS&Wt THK STOKV SO tWItl When Will Mi-rii.ul Mi-rii.ul li.wi's lur M. . Il:y, lioliln Dnlci doculcs to follow lilin. On flic wny sho mods Will's brother Aiikus, ft dour Si'ot who h.itos women, lie dor not Know h:vt she Is rniMRed la Will, mid Holiln realties that she must not come, between be-tween the two men. So Instead of seeing Will. Kohlu stays on board when the While l)neen dorks, lint Will, oneratlnK erane, sees ft iilrl on the deek. As he turns to look he Vses his balance nnd Is killed. I.earnlnc that Aiirus blames her, Rohln soes to see him with ft man named Jenkins, ft fellow passenser on the White Queen. They talk to n ugly man, nnd Kobln Asks who be Is. Now continue with the story. CHAPTER VI 'Tat Donohoe. He's McFhnil's boatman," Jenkins said: "I suppose McFhnll will be back for the funeral." fu-neral." "Oh!" He meant Will's funeral! Will was dead, and they were going to bury him. She had not realized death till she heard that word. She was suddenly very tired. When she suggested returning to the hotel, Mr. Jenkins, after some good-natured protest, agreed. Kobin slept and waked and slept again. At noon she rang for coffee and toast. She wondered a little why Mr. Jenkins did not come to take her to see Mrs. Freel; but she was glad he did not. Slowly, during dur-ing the long afternoon, she emerged from the protective numbness which had followed the first shock of Will's N death, so that she could feel the keen ache of pain: and that night she did not sleep at all. The rain drove against her windows all night long, and when dawn came, there was no slackening in the storm. She stared at the sluicing panes, and thought. Will would be buried today, to-day, and she hated this raw new wilderness town full of hard men, with mud underfoot and rain and gusty wind over all. When she dressed and went down, the clerk named Dave looked at her curiously. "When will there be a boat for Eimouski or Quebec, or anywhere?" any-where?" she asked him. He seemed surprised, and for some strange reason maliciously pleased. He said a cruise boat would touch here some time in the afternoon, after-noon, bound for Quebec. "Do you suppose I could get a cabin on her?" "Yes. I know she's not full." J Afternoon? Will would be buried f this afternoon. She could not go till then. "What time will she be here?" "Can't tell yet," he said. "We'll get word later today." He hesitated. "Mr. Jenkins left a message for you. Said he'd be back tonight." "Oh!" She had quite forgotten Mr. Jenkins. "Thanks." After lunch a man spoke to her in the lobby. There was something about him remotely familiar. He made conversation in a courteous way, without offense; and he spoke at last, too casuaUy, of Mr. Jenkins. Jen-kins. She recognized him then as the. man who had crossed the dock to look down at Mr. Jenkins' boat, when Mr. Jenkins stopped to go aboard her that first day. She asked suddenly: "Why are you interested in Mr. Jenkins?" "I?" His tone was too surprised. "You and he old friends, are you?" A question to answer her question. ques-tion. Too many questions. She wondered won-dered with complete irrelevance, why Will had not met Angus when the White Queen docked. Why had Will stayed in the cab of the crane and let Angus drive away to shore? Why were men afraid of Mr. Jenkins? Jen-kins? What tickets? Who was it Mr. Jenkins allowed to come in? Where was Mr. Jenkins today? Too many questions. She asked: "Don't you know any answers?" Before he could reply, the clerk named Dave came to her. "They don't know when the funeral will be," he reported. "Mr. McPhail's brother hasn't come back yet. They're waiting for him." She nodded thanks, and suddenly she was dreadfully afraid that something some-thing had happened to Angus. Fear choked her so that she could not speak. She fled up the stairs to her room. Hours later the clerk knocked on her door. "Miss Dale, the funeral's passing right now." She caught up hat and slicker and ran to the stairs and down. "The cemetery's right up on the hill," he told her. "They're just getting there." He pointed the way; and she went out into gusty wind and driving rain. She saw Angus, his garments wet and torn, his old hat more battered than ever, his cheeks gaunt, his eyes red and sunken. He stood by the grave. As she approached, his eyes lifted to meet hers. His eyes were bleak as winter. They made her cold. She said tremulously: "Mr. Mc-Phail, Mc-Phail, I want to talk to you. 1 want to tell you . . ." He interrupted her, in flat tones. She thought his voice was like that of a deaf man. "I've nothing to say to you, and I don't want to hear anything you can say." She could not believe her ears. She protested softly: "But I just want you to know how sorry . . ." He said curtly: "Be off!" She cried in a hurt bewilderment: "But Mr. McPhail . . ." "Then stay if you like! I'll go." He turned on the word and strode away. Robin was suddenly angry. He needn't act so! She started after him, to tell him so. He walked so dock nbovc her. He spoke French which she did not understand nnd someone answered him, and a moment mo-ment Inter she heard feet coming down the ladder. Mr. Jenkins must be coming aboard; nnd she did not wish to see him! She stepped into the stateroom nnd closed the door of it behind her. A moment Inter, she heard footsteps in the cabin, and two voices. She stood In the narrow space between be-tween the bunks and the fore and ti ft bulkhead which divided the stateroom state-room from the compartment where the engine was. She was afraid they would open the door and find her. Mr. McPhail must surely be here soon. She dared not show herself her-self until he came; but she need not stand. She sat down cautiously on the lower bunk. The upper bunk was so near the lower that she could not sit upright without bumping bump-ing her head, so she lay down. She was wide awake, listening to the voices, wondering what Mr. Jenkins nnd the other man were discussing so seriously. She was very tired. She had not slept at all last night, very little the night before; and her eyes burned and ached. When she closed them, they were more comfortable; so she kept them closed, listening to the rapid-fire conversation in the cabin, wishing she could understand what they were saying. It began not to matter ... She was awakened by the opening of the cabin door, the sudden flood of light in her face. She rolled on her side, scrambling out of the bunk, scrambling to her feet, blinking and confused. The floor lifted and tilted under her. Silhouetted in the cabin door stood a man in a battered old hat. It was Angus McPhail's hat. The man was Angus McPhail. But the engine was running! They were going somewhere! The boat pitched under her feet, and she almost al-most fell, staggered, caught at his coat to save herself. She cried: "Heavens to Betsy! What happened? Where are we?" He said in a harsh, grating tone: "Three hours out of Moose Bay toward to-ward Labrador." Three hours out of Moose Bay toward Labrador! The light was in Robin's eyes, blinding her. Angus McPhail was a dark silhouette in the doorway; and his dry tones were like the rustle of dead leaves in an icy wind. Three hours out of Moose Bay . . . She wrinkled her brows, peering into his shadowed countenance, counte-nance, trying to understand this incredible in-credible thing he said. She protested, protest-ed, in a half whisper, "Three hours! But didn't you know I was here?" The boat was pitching and tossing. She clung to his coat' to keep from falling down, till he freed himself, drew back. Then she stumbled into the cabin, sat down on one of the benches by the narrow table. Angus moved aside to let her pass; he stood above her, his legs spread, his head a little bowed; and when he did not speak she said, still vague with sleep: "Then you'll have to take me back, won't you? I'm sorry to make so much trouble." He was so long in answering that she began to be fully awake. When he did speak, he said in a strange blurred voice:, "You came aboard. I didn't ask you. You got yourself into this. Get yourself out!" His lips were twisting strangely. She asked in a puzzled wonder: "Are you trying to frighten me?" He echoed in a dry scorn, "Frighten "Fright-en you?" His husky, low tone was more alarming than a shout. She remembered, now fully awake, his violence at Will's grave. It had been more than the madness of grief. It had been, definitely, anger at her. She lowered her head so that he might not see terror in her eyes; and she sat thus, with her face hidden, trying to guess some reason for his anger. It was possible possi-ble that Will had told him about their love for one another; but even that could not wholly explain his rage now that Will was dead. Before she could find words, he asked suddenly: "What did you want aboard here?" She looked up at him. "Why just to speak to you. Just to say the words people do say to those who are grieving." His voice rose a little, dry and harsh as rust. "Couldn't you speak your piece ashore? Why were you so sure you'd be welcome in my cabin? Why should you think I wanted want-ed you?" His fists were tight at his sides. "Curse you, if it's men you're after, go forward in the fo'c's'le! Maybe Romeo and Pat will let you share their quarters. I won't." His very extravagance steadied her. She looked at him in quiet appraisal. ap-praisal. It was not fair to treat what he said as though it were said by a sane man. She asked: "Have you eaten anything these three days? Have you slept at all?" "Hah! There's a woman for you! Feed the brute. Put him to bed. He'll be in better humor in the morning." "Please!" "If you expect me to take you back to Moose Bay you're due to be disappointed." "Did you know I was aboard before be-fore you left there?" He said, almost sullenly: "No. Not till half an hour ago." (TO BE CONTINUED) He said curtly, "Be off!" kins will take you, won't he? He'll be back any time now." Mr. Jenkins was nothing; but if he knew she was leaving, he might annoy her with urgencies to stay. "Oh, no!" she said hurriedly. "I'd rather he didn't know I was going." The clerk nodded as though approvingly. ap-provingly. "Sorry, I thought you were a friend of his. I can drive you down, myself, after six o'clock. I'm off then for half an hour." She thanked him. She arranged to leave her muddy garments to be cleaned and forwarded; then returned re-turned to her room to pack. At six she descended; at five minutes past, she and the clerk were in his car. He said: "Steamer's not in yet; but I have to be back at half past, and there's no one around to take you down later." "I can wait on the pier," she assured as-sured him. "If Mr. Jenkins asks where I am, don't tell him, will you?" "I didn't think you looked like a friend of his," he said. When they reached the end of the pier, the steamer was not yet in sight. They sat in the car till he had to leave. When she was left alone, Robin looked toward where Angus McPhail's Mc-Phail's motor cruiser and Mr. Jenkins' Jen-kins' boat had been tied up two days ago. Mr. Jenkins' boat was gone; but McPhail's was there. She walked that way and saw that the cabin scuttle was open, so he must be aboard. She decided to make one last attempt at-tempt to talk to him; and shaking a little at her own temerity she descended de-scended the ladder and called his name into the cabin. But no one answered. She was disappointed; dis-appointed; but if he came before the cruise boat docked, she might still make him listen to her. She decided de-cided to wait for him; so she climbed up on the dock again and brought her bags to the head of the ladder that led down to his boat, where they would be under her eye. A workman passed and said, "Hi, babe!" She wished she need not be so conspicuous. Then it began to rain again. It was silly to stand here and be soaked. She climbed down the ladder and took shelter in the cabin to wait for Angus there. She heard an engine murmur and then bark more loudly as the reverse re-verse gear took hold. Another boat was mooring just off of this one. It must be Mr. Jenkins, returning; so she kept out of sight. Then she heard Mr. Jenkins' voice on the |