THE EASTERNERS.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXXII, Issue 10452, 18 October 1911, Page 2

THE EASTERNERS.

BY WILLIAM PERRY BROWN

CHAPTER IV—Continued. In another instant they were tearing along at a pace that soon made the Westerner aware that his driver meant business. Into Duane they swung just as the brougham turned into a sido street which, happening to bo blocked somewhat with traffic, enabled tho hansom to gain a little. Soon tho brougham turned east and again struck Broadway, evidently for a clearer outlook. But Greer was hardly half a block behind when, at Canal Street, tho brougham turned west again,'this time making-for 'he Hudson River water front. The hansom followed closely, but the brougham was not to be overhauled, though they wero kept in sight. In West Street Greer lost sight tV a moment of the object of his chase timid the jam of traffic about the steamship piers. Cabby had to go slowly here, and Greer was swearing at his ill luck, when his breath was nearly taken away by the sight of the yellowwheeled brougham returning on its track in a leisurely fashion. "There they are!" shouted Sidney. "Go for 'em I"

But while cabby was appraoching, the , brougham suddenly whipped up and turned eastward again. From amid the tangle of teams Greer had a clear view of the now open windows. The brougham was empty! Sidney sank back, half sick under the flush of disappointed. The brougham, with a comparatively clear street ahead, shot away at a furious pace, and was soon lost to view. The hansom drifted along slowly, with the press of vehicles hemming it in. "Turn back toward that dock," commanded Greer, pointing.

He recalled that those who had left the brougham must have done so while that vehicle was momentarily lost to view. A moment later Greer des-' cended at a long, half-empty freight dock. He questioned some teamsters there. seen,, \Sh.e l a< * v . anc l the gent. % Mightily hurried ibey'werei Which way? Down the pier—yonder. Must have taken a boat, they guessed. The tall Westerner hurried down the dock, bidding the cabman wait. When he had passed the scattered piles'of freight, he saw a small motor launch making for a gray, phantomlike steam yacht lying in mid stream. In the stern a man and woman were seated, besides the boat crew. "That must be Alma, without doubt," he concluded, then added, very much aloud: "Tug ahoy! Ahoy there 1" '* He was excitedly hailing a small steam tug that happened to be steaming by close to the dock. The captain from the wheelhouse saw Greer waving a handful of fluttering bank notes. "That chap is certainly nutty about something," he said to the wheelsman. "But if he has money to .burn, we might as well have our share. Sheer alongside." A hurried colloquy ensued while the tug sidled alongside the dock. Sidney sprang on board and' directly they were ' hetoded toward the trim, low, mysterious-looking vessel, up the side of which the couple had already climbed. • The motor boat had also been swung upward, and, as the tug approached, an anchor was quickly hove up to tho hawse hole: Steam, that had been bubbling from a gray funnel in a thin cloud, suddenly shot upward in thick, swift jets, and the agitated Avater at the stern began to cream and froth the river's surface.

"She is getting under way. Oh, the devil! We must not let her get off. I must get on board!" "My terms are ten dollars an hour," remarked tho captain. Greer stuffed a wad of bank notes into the captain's grimy hands, and bade him follow that yacht and overtake her if possible. . Meanwhile he also kept up waving his hands and calling, but to no apparent effect on the yacht. The gray vessel-glided silently onward, dexterously avoiding other craft, yet not showing so much as a head above the rail. Even the helmsman was invisible, and the bridge, abaft .the foremast, remained vacant. So swift, silent and lifeless did she appear that but for the bustling .river, the red sunlight in the West,, and the city close by, one might have thought her to be unreal and imaginary. /

New York tugs are by no means slow-going, but the gray yacht, once fairly laid to her course, simply Avalked off from the little tug. Down the Hudson and across the bay she 'headed, passing Liberty Statue' and heading straight for the Narrows. "Come, come!" fumed Greer. "Is your old boat asleep? Fire up, fire up!" "That yacht steams like a witch, sir," responded the captain. "But see here. We aint fixed for a lower bay cruise. There isn't enough coal aboard for more than an hour of this work." "Crowd .it in, I say. Here are the scads—and more behind." Greer again waved a handful of bank notes. "I must overtake that yacht!" "Don't believe we can, sir; but hero goes. I guess we can. get more coal at Richmond or somewhere below. But it will cost you like sin." "Curse the cost! Put me aboard that yacht." The sun had set' and the bay was like glass. Other craft, noticing this chase, blew encouraging whistles and chaffed the tug unmercifully. Out in the bay they -were less noticed. Nearing the Narrows, twilight was settling , down. The gray yacht never swerved '■ but headed down the ship channel at j a speed that was slowly but surely i

OUR SERIAL,

OR MARRIAGE BY PROXY.

CHAPTER V.

leaving the tug behind. j Greer fumed, cursed, stamped about i and used the captain's night-glass, and—saw the object of his pursuit gradually fade into nothingness in tho lower bay, still apparently headed for the open ocean. "Wo must about ship," finally warned the captain. "I have hardly enough coal to tako me inside again." Tho yacht had already vanished., so there was nothing else to do. Sidney, i thoroughly disheartened, flung himself down in the cuddy-hole called the cabin, and did little but curse and ■fume over his bad luck until the tug arrived off Battery Park shortly before midnight, having accepted a friendly tow from a rival in trade instead of coaling at Richmond. In sottling, Greer was sixty dollars out, and to no apparent purpose. "Better luok next time," suggested the captain, who had sealed down his prico, in consideration of Sidney's being so upset bj non-success. "That fellow is cor vainly a game sort, whoever he is." Siiney grunted, and after being put ashore, enisled the Battery and walked up Broadway,' wondering where cabby and his grip and his umbrella were by this time. By the time he reached tho Astor House he was dead beat. Going up ; the" steps someone called out, th#n he felt a hand on his arm. "Here I be, sir." And there was cabby, touching his battered hat, and looking as if he felt himself Worthy of high commendation. "Thought I'd sure lost you when I saw you on that tug. I looks at your bag and umbrella. Governor's addled, I thinks. But I waited an hour, then I drove here. Your things is in the office, and I think, seeing the time I've lost, I orter have three dollars more." Sidney sighed, paid, and went to the hotel office. Fifteen minutes later he was asleep, notwithstanding liis vexation. He dreamed of Alma in the guise mermaid, ,a'nd woke himself up shouting put her name. . "I must be getting nutty," lie reflected. But a good breakfast put him somewhat in heart, and he hied himself up to the Turkish consulate, then in an old-fashioned building in Bowling } Green, long since torn down. Here he paused, looked, rubbed his eyes, and looked, again. Before the door was the yellow£wheeled brougham and the natty hjorses he had so furiously chased the day before. He even recognised ' the coachman. ' Walking up to the latter, Greer drew forth a silver dollar and held it up. "Are you for free silver?" asked Sidney, for this was in the days when that heresy flourished most. The man winked, stretched out his hand for the bribe, then suddenly drew it back again. Following the man's change of manner, Greer looked . round and saw a face at a/lower window. It was that of Mustafa Bey, the attache of the Ottoman legation in Washington. "That rascal here?" tho"ught Sidney, as the face drew..back when Mustafa recognised t^"Westerner. "That means some kind." He turned to the coachman, saying: . '; "Where did the lady come from that you left on the North River pier above Canal 7 Street yesterday, and who is | the man that was with her?" J "They came from here, sir. I don't j know who either of them is; but my I master, the Turkish consul, bade me drive them as they should direct. They left the carriage On Broadway and went into a store. When they came back they made me drive like mad to get them to the pier. Tiiey were going on board some yacht." Greer flipped the dollar to the man, and went into the consulate.

A SURPRISE IN THE CONSUL'S OFFICE.. r

A clerk showed Sidney into a smaller room, of office, whore sat a fat, heavyeyed man behind a flat-topped desk, busily working. He looked up and rose slowly when the'clerk announced a visitor, and then glanced at <a, halfopen door, through which sounds of footsteps were audible.

"M. Murahki, the consul, I suppose?" began Greer interrogatively. "My name is Sidney Greer." He laid down his card. "I am venturing to intrude upon you for the purpose of' j> "In * moment, my good sir, in' a moment," interrupted the consul, hurrying to the half-open door, which ho pulled wide open .and stood bowing before a couple, the sight of which almost paralyzed Greer. Habited for the street, they were shaking hands with M. Murahki. The man was Mustafa Bey. and the woman —could he believe his >yes?—was Alma herself, radiant, sparkling, smiling at the consul. t Sidney, stared open-mouthed when she saw him. A look of vexation crossed her face. But she appeared toignore the Westerner. (To be Continued.)