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The San Francisco call. (San Francisco [Calif.]) 1895-1913, September 13, 1903, Image 5

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The next the "minx" got a piece of
Mrs. Barnes' mind. It was a liberal piece
and ought to have brought her to her
knees, but it didn't. On the contrary,
after she got fafrly started, the red-head
ed girl got off three words to the other's
one and read her a long and savere lec
ture on minding her own business. la
this lecture were Included a few observa
tions on false teeth and gray hairs, and
when the battle was over it was the moth
erly Mrs. Barnes who didn't know where
she was at. She tried to get even by call
ing her husband into the cabin and tell
ing him what was what, and that she'd
take good care to eee that everybody In
Providence heard of it. ,
The Dalsv sailed on- and on, and the
flirtations went .on and on, and as the
brig. crept up the coaat Mrs. Barnes "lelt
It In her bones" that Boston would never
be reached. The red-headed girl had
brought disorganization from cabin to
bowsprit and almost taken command.
"You Jest wait, Joslah Barnes— you Jest
wait for Cape Cod," the captain's wife
grimly repeated a dozen times a day, and
Cape Cod was finally reached.
Then a gale sprang up. the big brig lost
her foremast, and though the red-headed
girl sought her stateroom and the crew
was left free to battle with the storm
the craft was driven ashore and became a
total wreck. Crew and passengers were
saved, and in due time Captain Barnes ap
peared at the office of the owners in Bos
ton to tell how it all happened. He was
listened to until he had finished, and then
the head of the firm handed him a letter
that had been received the day before. It
was from Martha, and it read:
"I want to report that the Daisy is
ashore on Cape Cod and a total wreck,
and I want to report that a red-headed
gal and a lot of fool-men are the cause
of It."
or shell get a piece of my mind that wiQ
make her red hair curl. I won't stand by
and see no such chit make fools of three
or four men who ought to know better.'*
The captain's advice was for her to'go
slow, and he was glad to* get on deck and
out of reach of her tongue. That was the
beginning of things. That night the red
headed girl walked the deck with a cap
tain on each side of her.
—^J HILE the brig
MTr^n^Ssi Y* Daisy, Captain Jo-
Hi y*M<y 1 f siah Barnes, mas-
W jnj|re/fr 1/ ter - lar ** Por t au
%VJ«\ZyS; / Prince, Ban Do
gXaV/^wJj mlr.go, a red-headed
* ** lrl came aboard
"^^*^*"*"™^^»mS- to secure passage to
Boston. She had
tone to the Island from Salem
two years before with an Ameri
can family as roverr.ess. but had be
come tired of It and desired to pet back
to the States. The wife of Captain
Barnes was aboard, and his crew num
bered seven men. He had also taken as
Patsengers two American tea captains,
whose vessels had been shipwrecked
axaon* the West India Islands. If it
hafin't been that one of the captains of
fered to surrender his stateroom to the
red-h«aded girl and sleep in the main cab-
In on a shake-down ehe could not have
taken passage by the Daisy. Indeed, it
was a doe* shave at best, as Mrs. Barnes,
who wa» fat. forty and plain-faced,
looked her over and eald to her husband:
"Joslah, she's red-headed, and * that
means that she's giddy and sassy."
"Yea, she's got red hair," replied the
captain. 'Taut I don't eee nothin' giddy
about her. Bhe look* aa sober as any
ral with any colored heir, and that pas
sage money will come in handy for us.
Bhe'll probably be seasick clear up to
Boston Light and not eat 12 worth of
provisions."
"Well, we'll take her." said Mrs.
Barnes with a doubtful shake of the
head. *T>ut you see If it don't result in a
tornado, waterspout or calamity of some
kind. Red-headed girls are born to make
trouble."
A day later the Daisy weighed anchor
end set out on her return voyage, and the
e-ttltu.Ce cf the red-headed girl as she
moved about was so demure that the cap
tain almost felt like patting her on ihe
head and speaking words of sympathy
end encouragement. The brig sailed at
* o'clock In the morning, and the girl
passeng-er did not make her appearancS
at the table at noon. Mrs. Barnes' moth
erly heart forced her to look into the
stateroom and offer her services, but at
the same time she wu secretly glad to
find the red-headed girl In her berth and
apparently suffering the pangs of sea
sickness.
Something like a surprise party waited
the dame when supper time came round.
She was thinking of making a cup of tea
with her own hands and adding a slice of
dry toast when the red-headed girl sud
denly appeared in the cabin fully dressed
and looking as pert and saucy as if the
old brig rested in a cornfield Instead of
climbing up and down watery hills of ex
ceeding steepness. \
"La, but haven't you been seasick!"
exclaimed the captain's wife, after a long
stare.
"Of course not," was the reply.
"And you ain't going to be?"
"I hope not. Where are the gentlemen?
They must have missed me. I'm so glad
I'm the only girl aboard, as I will have
them all to myself. Do you know if both
captains are married men?"
"Yes, ma'am, I know that they are, and
each one is the father of at least 'leven
children." replied Mrs. Barnes, with great
emphasis, being determined to crush the
red-headed girl at the very outset.
"Well, they can flirt with me for a few
days, Just the same," eald the girl, as she
surveyed herself in the" cracked mirror
hanging- over th« table.
At eupper the red-headed girl made
herself thoroughly "at home." She
laughed and chatted and made eyes, and
Mrs. Barnes could not help but see that
her own captain, as well aa the two
others were more than Interested. She
grew red In the face and her blood boiled
and as soon as the meal was finished and
the girl had gone on deck, escorted by
the two other captains, she drew herself
up before her liege lord with folded arms
and demanded:
"Joslah Barnes, of Providence, what did
I tell your*
"I dunno," he absently replied.
"Don't He to me, sir! I told you that
red-headed girl was an impudent minx,
and my words have come true. She even
made eyes at you across the table."
"I— I didn't see 'em. if she did."
"You Raw 'em and almost blushed.
Josiah Barnes, that girl has got to stop
LURED BY THE RED SFAIRED SIREN
THE SUNDAY CALL.
By Keith Gordon.
FACE IN THE CROWD
By Mary Wood
. "Protector, fiddlesticks!" said the ener
getic Miss Halloway. "Have you no spirit,
mother?" Bhe began to pace the floor ex
citedly. "Would you be treated as a no
body—you, the wife of Thomas P. Hallo
way 1 Consider your position."
Mrs. Halloway doubtless considered her
position— she was absolutely at the mercy
of her daughter's scathing tongue. There-'
fore she maintained a discreet silence.
"They must be taught the deference
due to "us, the Halloways, of Chicago,"
said the girl. She was very young and
possessed of the follies as well as the
graces of youth.
The bellboy now reappeared, holding
out a handful of telegraph blanks like a
VOh. Belle, Belle," wailed Mrs. Hallo
way, whose ample form had collapsed in
one corner of a red plush sofa, "how can
you mane such a disturbance? Now, if
your f athei was only here— but the two
of us alone, without a protector!" and
ahe rolled her eyes distractedly.
your way back. I have a few things to
say to my father and some of his friends
concerning the lack of accommodations at
the Great Eastern." x
fr—-f~~^*^r3 HB was so decidedly
<^J*S|"i|ft)^J! Petite that even when
lrAvw^r^aS' if Bh * &Tew her fl srure to
i£*^j&£^i|] lts greatest height the
I ''flljNSSBw*;!! aasum P tlon ot dignity
was laughable. But her
U^^^^^H eyes "P" 111^ danger-
Ltesfc-^MSi-ei ously as she faced the
bellboy. The bellboy was Impressed. He
eyed the door as If meditating escape be
fore she proceeded to stronger methods.
"Now, see here," she exclaimed bellig
erently, "this is the third note I have
written to the office, and X want a reply
this tlme."^
"If you would go down to the desk,"
the bellboy insinuated apologetically, "Mr.
Parker—"
"No, I will not go down to the desk,"
Miss Halloway interrupted decidedly.
"That head clerk Parker/ or whatever
name he answers to," shall come up' here
or I will know the reason why."
The bellboy departed promptly. "And
by the way," she called after him, "just
hustle along some telegraph blanks on
"I think that will make things hot for
the Great Eastern." she said triumph
antly. Bhe did not hear the knock at the
door, nor its noiseless opening. Her
mother's voice startled her: "Belle, hers
is Mr. Parker, but remember—"
Mrs. Halloway's voice trailed off into a
deprecating silence. Miss Halloway
straightened up in her chair with tha
laudable pride of a Judge about to confer
sentence.
"Mr. Parker,'* she said impressively, "I
have called you here to complain of the
treatment to which we have been sub
jected by this hotel." Bhe began delib
erately enough, but the words soon
tumbled over each other In her vehe
mence. "How dare you," she cried, "how
dare you put us Into this stuffy back
room, an eight dollar a day room, when
yellow flag of truce. "Mr. Parker," be
averred, "h» says— he's coming."
Mist Halloway selied upon the blanks
and flung herself Into a chair beside the
writing table. "There will probably be
ample time to get off the telegrams be-
Sore he comes. Things don't quickstep at
{he Great Eastern."
"But, Belle," Mrs. Halloway protested,
after the bellboy had closed the door In
reverential fashion, "had you not better
¦li.> on another waist Mr. Parker— »*
"Mr. Parker," her daughter Interrupted
superciliously, **ls a hotel clerk, a ser
vant This dressing sack is good enough
for him."
Bhe dashed off a telegram and read It
aloud reflectively:
"Dear Dad. we are being shamefully
treated at the Great Eastern. If things
are not remedied we will change to the
Grand to-night But don't worry. I am
running this affair and you can bet on me.
"Arabella Halloway."
"I can agree with you. Miss Halloway
of Chicago— but only in part Tour mon
ey Is as good as that of other people— but
no better. At the Great Eastern first
come must be first served, and that"
with a half bow, "is why we have been
forced to give this room to — Miss Hallo
way of Chicago."
His tone was courteous, but the girl
felt the sting of underlying reproof. It
was a new experience for her. All her
twenty years bad not discovered a person
who should dare to cross her. The great
T. P. Halloway himself lacked the neces
sary courage. Or, rather, he openly en
couraged her willfulness as a reincarna
tion of his own Indomitable spirit As for
Mrs. Halloway, she was always a minus
quantity on such occasions as demanded
firmness. She preferred to be comfort
ably seated and wring her hands— gently.
Tears came easily, and In no wise inter
fered with her heart action or gradual
Increase of avoirdupois. ' ,
- Now she looked entreatlngly at her
daughter and murmured, "Oh, Belle,
don't, don't!"
Miss Halloway did not hear. Her world
seemed falling about her ears. For the
we have always been accustomed to an
eighteen dollar suite? Do you know who
we are— the Halloways of Chicago? Is not
our money good, or better, than other
people's?"
The clerk remained silent And now
for the first time Miss Holloway looked
up — far ' up— and encountered the serene
gaze of his brown eyes.
Mr. Parker, the elerk, was tan-unusu
ally tall. But It was not merely his Inches
which gave authority of bearing— It was
his self-confidence, his mental poise. In
tuitively Miss Halloway of Chicago real
ized that here was a man who would al
ways bo the master of circumstances no
matter how adverse the contrlvlngs of
fate. Her Judicial complacency vanished,
and shame, hot-cheeked and defiant.
stood as a culprit at the , bar. For a
twinkle lurked In the cool depths of the
brown eyes as he said easily:
LA PETITE TERMAGANT
And the matter of her marriage pro*etl
no exception to the rule. She did. And
that Is how Miss Halloway of Chicago
became Mrs. Parker of New York.
"There Is Belle to be considered." Mr.
Parker Insinuated gently. "She usually
has her own way."
T. P. Halloway weakened visibly. **Yes.
she usually does," he repeated more
calmly. "^ . !
Mr. Parker was quite mimoved. "She
does not object," he said easily. "Some
day I shall own this hotel, then yon will
not object"
T. P. Halloway glared at him. *1 will,"
he snorted. "And tha sooner you taks
yourself off the batter It will bo."
He did not hesitate, but Mr. Parker
spoke first. It Is a way youth has. And
be did not mince matters. He struck
straight from the shoulder.
"Mr. Halloway. I love your daughter,
she loves me. We are coins to b« mar
ried. Have we your approval T*
"The devil!" ejaculated the astounded
T. P. Halloway. "Why you're nothing
but a hotel clerk. My daughter—** Words
failed him.
The girl lifted her head and— laughed.
Bhe had not been crying at all. "You can
stop your crying now. mother." sh« said
cheerfully* "It is all over with." She
turned to the astonished Mr. Parker and
-xtended her hand frankly. "And, since
you have acceded to my request," she
said sweetly, "let me apologize for hav
ing asked In— well— rather peremptory
fashion. It is a way I have, unfortunate
ly. Of course, your promise holds good?"
"Of course," replied Mr. Parkrr a tri
fle stiffly. He could not avoid taking her
outstretched hand. "Of course," he re
peated more heartily, as some mesmcrlo
Influence radiated from her finger tips
to his. There was added respect as well
as admiration In the brown eyes. He rec
ognized her powers as a strategist
Miss Halloway laughed. "I won, bat
X would not have If yon had not been—
a gentleman . Mamma and Z are very
pleased to meet you— even In this Informal
fashion."
Mrs. Halloway beamed noon them.
Peace and harmony were essential In her
scheme of things.
And peace and harmony — and Mr. Par
ker—attended her and her daughter for
the next few weeks. Mrs. Halloway
beamed. Miss Halloway was radiant, Mr.
Parker was assiduous. So assiduous. In
fact, that Thomas P. Halloway. on his
advent on the scene, felt called upon to
Interfere.
"Really, Miss Halloway." he said sooth
ingly, "the whole thing is a trifle which
we have foolishly exnggerated. In the
morning you will laugh at your fancied
grievances."
But still the girl's head was hidden In
her folded - arms and her shoulders
heaved. Mrs. Halloway sobbed, swaying
comfortably back and forth. "If your
father were only here," she wailed.
"Don't cryr Miss Halloway," he Im
plored, "please don't. I think that per
haps I can arrange the matter. A per
sonal friend of mine has one of the suites.
Perhaps, for you— yes, I am sure I can
arrange It."
"On your word of honor?" asked Miss
Halloway of Chicago, in a muffled tone.
"On my word of honor," he promised
recklessly.
first time the shameful helplessness of
her sex overcame her. But woman's wit
came to her aid. Her lips trembled pite
ousJy an<l two large tears ran down her
checks.
This was a new method of warfare. The
redoubtable Mr. Parker stood aghast.
Then, as became a prudent general, threw
out scout lines.
And then— well, they then forgot the
world and Its opinions to talk of far love
lier things.
When the maid ushered him In Natica,
looking rather more like a lily than usual
In her long, soft black gown, rose with
every intention of greeting him In the
most formal manner. Then a most un
looked for thing occurred.
For a moment they looked Into each
other's eyes. Then he stretched out his
hands toward her and she placed hers In
them. A moment later she was swept up
Into his arms as If she had been a child,
as he murmured softly, "My dear, dear
love."
"What shall we tell mamma?" wailed
Natica In despair a half-hour later. "How
can we ever explain ourselves?"
"We can't," replied Renwick, comfort
ably. "We might Just as well resign our
selves to being thought mad ! It all comes
from the ridiculous superstition that In
order to know people you must talk to
them!"
In the dim little parlor of the small
apartment where she and her mother
lived they met for the first time alone
save for the dead and gone Alstons that
looked down upon them from the walls.
Surely never was such a first meeting be
fore.
"What kind of a mystery is this?" In
quired Stoughton. "Jf I didn't know that
there Isn't a grain of romance in you 1
should certainly think "
"Now, don't think— there's a good fel
low." soothed Renwick. "Just follow In
structions. Tell Miss Alston all about ma
—and mind that you tell her everything
good that you can or I'll wring your neck
—and make an appointment for me to
call. Don't make any mistake. I want to
see her. and see her alone. I don't want
you there!"
When poor, mystified BUI Stoughton
broached the subject to Natica her be
havior was doubly mysterious. No, she
didn't want to know anything about himl
Then a moment later:
"Did you say he Is a. bachelor?" (Inno
cently). "I thought he was a widower!"
Stoughton, Indignantly: "I thought you
knew nothing about him?"
"I don't; but he wore mourning."
"That was for his mother."
• • •
"Certainly. I'll take you up there with
me. Natica will be glad to receive any
friend of mine."
"Thank you. old fellow, thank you."
Renwick paused awkwardly. He seemed
to have somt thing else to say, but scarce
ly knew how to say it.
"When I said— asked you to introduce
me— I didn't mean the usual thing. I'm
going to ask you to do something queer,
and to do it without asking too many
questions."
"It's Natica Alston — a cousin of mine,
you know," he explained to Renwick.
"Tough luck they've had, I tell you. But
she's a plucky girl. Bhe has earned her
own living now for four years."
"Will you present me?" demanded Ren
wick eagerly.
It was nearing the end of the third year.
He took the same train now with a reg
ularity which made her suspicious. The
results of chance were never bo unerring.
Intention was apparent.
But through it all, save at unexpected
moments when the curtain would lift for
a second and an unintentional glance be
tray a deeper knowledge, they regarded
each other with the baffling, impassive
eyes we keep for the unknown. No twen
tieth century romance ever moved eo
slowly.
Then Billy Stoughton— who In this par
ticular case was the Instrument of fate
— awakened one morning with an unac
countable but imperative yearning for
Broadway. Five years earlier an equally
compelling desire had landed him, on Th«s
Ranch, where he had bided contentedly
enough up to that particular morning. The
evening of the next day found him in
Denver, from which place he proceeded,
with as much haste as the railroad facil
ities would permit, to New York.
On the day of his arrival he planned
to dine with Renwick, the closest of his
college friends. He had just time to
catch him by telephone before he left his
office, which he did, arranging to meet
him at the c-levated station and go up
town with him.
The fir3t ettervescence of their meeting
over, Sioughton's beaming eyes roved
over the other passengers. A flight fig
ure at the far end of the car held his
glance. He looked again to be sure.
"Pardon me a minute, Jack," he said,
rising and making his way toward the
girl, with whom a moment later he was
shaking hands cordially and talking with
the ease of long friendship. Presently he
returned to Renwick, and as he did so
a revealing look passed between the two.
A bridge at last! s
wai a fatalist. If It were written from
the bejrlnnlnx It would occur! No man
could dabble In the affairs of fate!
Sometimes, for two or three weeks at a
etretcb. they would not encounter each
other. It was after one of these breaks
that, watching him as he entered the car.
her Interest and satisfaction at seeing him
again shone all unconsciously in her face,
and his glance was arrested by It.
As the faint color touched her cheeks
urder his gaze he looked causally away.
For a moment he had thought her some
half-forgotten acquaintance from the wel
come that he had surprised in her eyes,
but her quick annoyance as she returned
to her reading forbade that Idea.
Ehe did net look toward him again, but
more than once his keen blue eyes rested
upon her as ehe eat there, allm and
straight, with masses of pale brown hair
piled upon her small head. After this he.
too, began to_ watch of a morning:. A
habit is very easily formed!
Then for weeks he disappeared. The
plrl wondered anxiously what had become
of him. Had he gone abroad? Maybe he
was HI— or dead! At the thought she
shrank like one hurt, for he had become.
In a whimsical way. a part of her life. He
had become as near and dear as only
Ideals can rx»-
When he did appear one morning, tow
ering above a crowd of lesser men like a
god there was a new gravity in his face
which held her attention even before she
noticed that he wan In mourning.
That then was what these wee.is of abr
#>ence from business meant! Sickness and
suffering and death. His wiie undoubt
edly from the sorrow and oppression that
he showed. The Quick sympathy that she
felt hovered In her soft, wide eyes as they
rested briefly upon his face. And he.
re'ading that look, felt a curious thrill.
I>ong since he had begun to regard heT
with a-eort of tacit, silent friendship.
•The little girl with her soul In her face,
as be once described her to a friend, shak
ing his head deprecatlngly at the thought
cf a woman like her having to wrestle
with the world. Ehe seemed to him too
exquisite for the tips and downs of suca
tt He%ratched her surreptitiously now,
•wondering Idly who she was and whether
he should ever meet her. There was a
•way— be might follow her and bestow a
quarter on the elevator boy and the thing
would be done. But the coarseness or
euch methods repelled him. She seemed
the *nrt of a woman who would resent
that kind of thing.
Moreover. In his heart of hearts, and In
fplte of bis bigness and worldliness, be
The noise of the street below, dulled by
distance until it was as dreamy as the
humming- of bees at r.oonday, droned
softly in hrr ears a sort of living melody
— end her thoughts defied office hours and
¦went far afie'd in a fantastic search for
the reality about him, among the crowd
cf possibilities.
Over and over she gave him a local hab
itation and a name — but these changed
always with her mood. No name that
ehe could hit upon seemed to express his
personality, and ehe finally discarded
them all and thought of him only as The
Man.
The weeks mtlted Into month?, but her
Interest in him did not flag. Rather it
became deeper as time went on. Curious
ly enough, it was what might be termed
the non-essentials that baffled her.
About the man himself— his character and
what he would do in any given emergency
— ehe felt the same assurance that she
Aid about herself.
Bhe had decided that he was a lawyer,
though precisely why she thought so she
could not have told. Then one day she
raw him with a child, a girl of ten. who
bore a certain f.eeting resemblance to
him. •
He was married, then! An almost im
perceptible righ escaped her. Then, aa
the absurdity of the matter dawned upon
her, she laughed softly to herself. What
difference? Josephine and Marie T^ouise
had never dampened her affection for Na
poleon! She even began to feel a mild
Interest In the lady.
Insensibly, he became the touch of ro
mance In the dreary monotony of her
days — five and a half out of seven of
¦which were Fpent in Wall street, a place
where the advantages of being a woman
are not glaringly apparent.
Often during the flagging afternoons of
rummer, when business was dull and the
hands of the clock approached live but
¦lowly, she would Fit resting her face on
her hards ar.d wondering about him.
Who was he? Was he married or single?
(Copyright, 13C3. by T. C. McClure.)
f —r j FTER a while she
•^ \ i^//v»\« ) ' i when the train stopped
i'jr^/'^a^V* at the Fifty-third street
¦^^ * t T|*C V s ' atlon * n the rnorr.ir.g
' ~ tne tall> troad-shoul
*fZJal&trHsZY^ | dered man with the ag
< SSsJS? r! * g ' !ffB Z^2gl gressive chin and de
termined mouth. She felt vaguely dis
appointed when she did not see him.
5
Two Full Pages, of Fascinating Half-Hour Storiettes.

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