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Parrish, Randall, 1858-1923

"Gordon Craig Soldier of Fortune"

I
was brought back to a realization of the situation by Hutton's hand on
my shoulder.
"Nice-looking old girl, but, like all of her sex, a gay deceiver.
Slowest tub that ever floated a U. S. flag; any coal barge could get
away from her in a fair wind. Take her half an hour now to get within
hailing distance, and the old man raging to learn the news. How do you
feel? still groggy?"
"All right, except for a stiff headache."
"Then come into the cabin. There is nothing more to do on deck, and I
want to get sight of the ship's papers. Where was the fellow cleared
for?"
"Santiago."
"And his cargo?"
"Miscellaneous; mostly farm machinery--worth investigating."
"I 'll have some of the boxes broken open, but will take a squint at
the papers first. What became of the girl?"
"The steward took her below, and locked her in before the fracas
started."
"I thought so; I heard a little of the talk, and hung back so as to
give you plenty of time." He laughed, good-humoredly. "Nice little
scrap, Craig; those fellows never even heard us, until I was over the
rail. By the way, is the young lady married? I never heard the whole
story."
"She is a widow," I replied, a bit stiffly, resenting his flippancy of
tone. "She was the wife of this Henley's half brother, but I have
every reason to believe he is dead.


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