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A Thrilling Tale of Love and Adventure With Scenes Shifting From England to the West Coast of Africa
KATE MEREDITH, FINANCIER
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The Ninth of the $150,000 Series Now Appearing in The Augusta Herald Prior to Book Publication, j
His native townie was Hansa, of
course, but he had been a trader of
languages. Carter knew little enough
of Hauaa, but he was handy with Ok
ky and sound on Kroo, and so v hen
one vocabulary failed him, he passed
on to another, and was generally un
derstood. Thus, by very rapid de
greeds an Intimacy grew between
them, to as far an extent as the color
barrier woud permit.
They talked on weapons and they
talked on war; they talked of sport
as each of them understood It: they
talked on horse-breeding as It was
practised in Kano and Sokoto, and
also of horse-breeding as It was car
ried on In the Craven district and
the Yorkshire dales.
Carter tried without any success
whatever to make Hosseln understand
the humor of the battle of the roses
as it was waged between his father
and mother In the Yorkshire vica
rage: the Hansa in his turn gave the
light side of a slave-hunting raid, and
made Carter's flesh creep.
They had abundant interests in
common, too. In the romance of com
merce. and discussed regretfully the
decay of ivory and the sensational
rise of rubber. Carter as the paid
servant of O'Neill and Craven tried
to hear of rubber lands which could
be bought and resold to an English
company, but All been Hosseln was
emphatic In his refusal to help a
white immigration onto the acres of
his fatherland.
"Let us talk as traders, oh, Effendl.
Do not ask me to be the traitor who
will make smooth the path for the
invader. And for the present I bid
you to consider this shortage in the
supply of pink kola nuts. Now, the
white kola nuts, which have not that
dryness which is demanded by the
palates of the Western Soudan, we
can gel from Lagos and the Coast
factories in larger quantities than
ever. But. the growers declare the
crop of pink nuts to be practically
a failure this year, and therein I say
they lie."
And so on. with matter which had
too technical a flavor to carry gen
eral Interest.
Now, the leopard had clawed Ali
hen Hossein's thigh grievously, and
the subsequent neglect of the wound
had been abominable, but the man
had heen a clean liver and his tough
ness was great. In ten days he could
it'Otfde. and in a fortnight announced
his departure.
"I ant a merchant without merch
andise. Kffendi. and must, needs he
hack ahout my affairs. If I do not
gather them into my hands again an
other will.’’
"I'd stand you tick to the extent of !
a dozen loads of goods if I had 'em,''
said Carter cordially, “but as you’ve
seen for yourself, the factory's cleaned
out. And Allah knows when the next
steamer will drive in.”
"May your tribe increase, Effendl. I
have had too much at your hands al
ready. But though no money may pass
over what you have done, vet l ask
you to accept a gift, that Is a mere
token.”
It was a piece of gray stone which
sprouted with rieh brown crystals. It
was shaped like a squat duck, some
inch and a halt long, and Ali bon Hos
sein wore it alongside the little leather
parcel which held a verse of the Ko
ran and hung by a thong from his
neck.
"O Effendi, von are young, and that
will bring you pleasure more than
could ho bought with ten quills of gold.
Wear that, and your grief will fade.”
"Poof!" said Carter. “I’ve no griefs.”
Ali ben Hossein waved aside the
statement with a long slim band, the
hand of the Hansa swordsman for
whose narrow grip Central African ar
morers make sword hilts that no
grown Englishman can use. "O
Offendl. my sickDess was of the leg.
Neither my eyes nor my ears touched
I.y the leopard, and since I lay here
I havp both seen and heard. There Is
a woman that I have watcher, a wo
man with brown hair that, has In It the
glint of copper. She flaunts you now,
as is the way of women with those
thev love: but she is the one you de
sire, and presently- (having this charm
you will take her'to wife . Indeed, she
will come to your hoiißc without pur
chase and of free will."
You mistake," said Carter with a
sigh. “It is the black-haired one that
I ant contracted to marry."
Ben Hossein smiled. He was not to
he turned from his idea by a small
argument like that. “You may take
her as the less f wife, but I know
who will rule your harem, Effendi.”
You polybamoits old scoundrel! I
bpg your pardon, ben Hosseln, but
you're on the wrong tack, and so please
kt us change the subject. This charm,
this duck, 1» mad" of what we call
'in-stone. Does It come from Hausa
lnnd?”
No, Effendi. It Is found nearer to
hpre than the Hansa country. There
ir a great Island of red twisted stone
that rears Itself up out of the bush,
and this stone that the duck is made
of lies amongst It. There is no value
in the charm as a stone, hut ony value
in its shape, which is that, of a duck as
you see, Effendl. Has the twisted
'mountain is made of that stone, and
the river that runs along its base at
times eats into it."
"How far is it from here?”
“Twelve —no, thirteen marches.
Look. I will spread this sand upon
the floor and draw you the roads.
But the country is evil, Ef
fendl and though you go there and
-ppud a lifetime in search, yet will
vou not find another stone formed like
t duck. To get this, my grandfather
A
sent a hundred slaves who raked
amongst the screes for a year."
"This Is tin-ore," said Carter, “and
1 tell you frankly, hen Hosseln, that
there Is a fortune In what you have
told me.”
“I wish," said hen Hosseln gravely,
"that there were ten fortunes, and so
I could perhaps repay one-tithe of
what l owe to you, Kffendi. May
Allah he with you. I go now back
towards my people, and If Allah will,
we shall meet again,”
"Now, this stone and this tale must
go to Kate," said Carter to himself,
and went In towards the factory and
up the stairs to the veranda. Kate
came out of the mess room to meet
him, and waved a cablegram.
“I have just do-coded It,” she cried
extiltingly. "They have accepted my
terms."
"I wish you would de-code the
'they.* ”
"The German firm that owned
Mokki before we came.”
"What, the people you bought It
from?”
She nodded.
"But why on earth sell It hack to
them?"
“Because, m.v dear Mr. Carter, they
are going to give me h.OOO pounds for
the produce we have collected, and an
other 8.000 pounds for the fort and the
good-will of the business. How's that?
Seventeen thousand pounds cash
against a 1,500 pounds outlay in three
months. That's better than staying
out here in West Africa."
Carter had been carrying the duck
in his hand. He put It Into his pocket.
"I don't wonder you're exultant. I
suppose no other girl on earth ever
made a coup like that. And as for
us here at the factory, that means
our occupation’s gone?"
“Oh, I hope you'll go back to Malla-
Nulla. where you were, and work for
us there.”
“I think not. As you're going home,
and I cannot be of any immediate use
to O'Neill and Crav ,*n, I prefer to
leave the firm’s employ if you'll let
me?"
"He shall be sorry to lose you. But
perhaps you have something better in
view?"
“To tell the truth, I have. And It
strikes me if I'm to make a fortune,
I must look out for it myself."
"I quite agree with you." said Kate.
"What was that you were going to
show me? The thing you put in your
pocket. I mean?"
“A keepsake that was given me.
It's a charm, a ju-ju that will bring
fortune to somebody, and I was going
to give it to von. But on your own
recommendation I shall keep it for
myself.”
"You are quite right. It will be saf'
er for us to go our own several ways
from here.”
CHAPTER XIII
AT THE LIVERPOOL END.
Now. Godfrey O'Neil, deceased, was
a man who at various times In his life
had extracted from West Africa very
considerable sums of money. He was
shrewd, he was popular, he had the
knack of resisting sickly climates
and he knew the possibilities of the
Oil Rivers seaboard down to the last
bag of kernels.
According to his own account he
had started life as a ship’s purser
People who were more fond of accu
racy mentioned that as a matter of
history he had first gone as cabin-boy
in a palm oil brig. But be that as It
may. lie had been associated with the
Coast from Ills earliest days, and at
the age of flve-and-twenty was trad
ing there on his own account.
At first he stuck to an old trading
hulk with moorings in the muddy
Monk River and battled with its
swarms of cockroaches and got toge
ther abuslness; but by degrees he
gained the confidence of the native
riparian magnates and by the time he
was thirty he had built on piles a
fine set of factory buildings on the
hang, hail bought a treaty with the
then King of Okk.v, and had built
another factory at Malla-ulla In spite
of the fact that the beach there was
one of the most surf-smitten on the
Coast. After that he felt that, his
Liverpool correspondents were get
ting more than due share of his hard
wrung profits, and so he put the Coast
factories under managers and came
back to the Mersey. And thereafter,
with occasional visits to the Coast
and the Islands, he made Liverpool
his headquarters.
He had an office in Water Street, a
warehouse near Huskisson Dock, and
a house furnished with mid-Victorian
solidity and ugliness out at Prince's
Park. A sister. Mrs. Craven, whose
unsatisfactory husband had conven
iently died on the Coast, kept house
for hint, and as she voted marriage
a failure, Godfrey professed himself
as quite ready to take her verdict and
was not anxious to dabble In dange
oils experiments.
Finally, as Godfrey Cell discovered,
'after a *wo years' trial of the style
ot living t>at suited hint at Princes'
Park, that it cost him Just I*o pounds
a year, he saw very little use In be
stirring himself to earn more. He
quite admitted that there were other
luxuries in the world that he did not
indulge in. He might have kept hos
es, for instance; hut he happened to
dislike them. He might have had a
French chef; only plain roast beef
and plain roast mutton appealed more
to his appetite, and a plain British
cook at 20 pounds a year produced
these exactly to his taste. He might
have a larger house, but frankly he
did not want one.
So be went down to the office in
Water Street every other day, and 1
ceayd to stir the business there when
it showed any signs of averaging a
more than 1,500 pounds profit for any
one year, not because he objected to
play whist, to pursuing money. One
may here own freely that Godfrey
O’Neill was an active member of no
less than five whist quartettes which
met at clubs and houses, and there
was the amusement which after long
search he had discovered pleased
him best.
In the comfortable ugly house in
Princes' Park, besides Godfrey and
Mrs. Craven, and the two servants,
there was a child who afterwards de
veloped Into the Kate O'Neill of these
memoirs. Godfrey O'Neill brought her
home on the last visit he made to
West, Africa. She was then aged, at
a theoretical reckoning, three years,
and she was more fluent in the Okky
tongue than in English. She had never
worn shoes till Godfrey bought her a
pair In Las Palmas on the voyage
home.
“Is she white?" Mrs. Craven hal
asked.
"White, clean through," Godfrey had
assured her.
"Then who are her people?”
"That I shall not tell even you.
Her mother is dead. Her father had
gone under. He was a very clever
man once, though I must say he used
to be more high and mighty than I
oared ahout on the rare occasions that
I met him. But, as I say, he's gone
under, hopelessly."
“And presently,” said Mrs. Craven,
"when we get this little wild thing
tamed, and clothed, and teach her to
speak English and go to church, up
will come some drunken reprobate to
take her away again."
“No, he won't. I've fixed that. He'll
never claim her again. To start with,
he doesn't know if she's in England,
or Canada, or Grand Canary. 1 even
changed the name he called her by.
1 called her Kate from the day I left
him. and had her christened by that
name in Sierra Leone on the off !
chance she hadn't been christened be-1
fore. And to go on with, he gave
me his word of honor that if I took
her away, he'd never embarrass me
by inquiring for her again. You see,
he was living as a native, and the
child was running about with the
other pickaninnies in the vilage, and
I guess I made him pretty well
ashamed of himself by what 1 said.
The mother's dead, you know.”
“Poof," said Mrs. Craven, "he prom
ised you. did he? \nd what do you
suppose the word of a man 'ike that
is worth?" (The late Craven had. it
will he remembered, his strong fall-
mgs.)
"Ninety-nine beach combers out of a
hundred will lie as soon as look at
you,” Godfrey owned. “This one ts
the exception. Ho will keep his word,
at any rate on this matter. He’s just
as proud as a king.”
“Between drinks.” suggested the
widow.
"He's more objectionably proud
drunk than sober. He always quotes
Latin at one when he’ full, and then
says, ‘Ah, but you've not been to
school anywhere, so you’ll not under
stand that.’ You needn't be frightened
he’ll call here. Jane. Just remember
I'm a man with a taste for ease my
self. If I'd thought there was the
smallest chance of being bothered
with him, I shouldn't have saddled
myself with the kid."
“Well,” said Mrs. Craven, “as vou
have brought her, I suppose we must
do the best we can for her. The aver
ago orphanage doesn't take them till
they are six, but I suppose If we hunt
round we can find some sort of institu
tion which will accept three-vear
olds."
“Orphanage, h'm. You see, Jane, I
was thinking we might keep her our
selves. I am sure we could look al
ter her.”
"I object, to the word 'wo,'" said
Mrs. Craven dryly.
"Oh. I suppose most of the work
would fall on your shoulders."
"I am sure of It.”
“Come along, old lady, don't, you
think you can manage it? Kitty isn't
a bad sort of kid. Y'know. 1 saw a
goodlsh deal of her on the steamer
coming home."
"I thought you gave her in charge of
a steward?"
"I never told you that."
Mrs. Craven laughed. “You see, I
know your little ways—'Steward,
here's a girl for you. If you nursery
maid the kid nicely till we get. to Liv
erpool, and don't let me see more of
her than I want, and don't let her
come In and prattle when I’m playing
whist with Captain Image, there'll be
anyother quid for you when we land.
After that my sister will take her
over, and she won't want a tip at all."
"H'm.” said Godfrey, "now, dia-,
ntonds aren't In your line."
"I wouldn't be see n with one. I’ll
take a brown cloth gown, please."
"Shall I order it?”
"No, you can pay the bill."
"Right-o. Then you will take Kitty
and bring her up here?"
“You stupid goose,” said Mrs.
Craven, "I Intended that from the mo
ment I saw her. Cook's out buying
her a cot this minute.”
Here then was the way that Kate
first came into the house at Princes’
Park. She arrived without a surname,
and Godfrey, in spite of hints and
plain questions, kept back any further
pedigree. The child arranged a name
for herself. When she had been a
year In England she went out to a
small folks' party:
"Let me see, what's your name?”
asked the hostess, who had got tan
gled up among her many small guests.,
THE AUGUSTA HERALD.
Tho child had answered "Kate
O'Neill." as a matter of course. She
had called Mrs. Craven, Aunt Jane,
and her brother Uncle Godfrey from
the first, and nfter that Juvenile parly,
she was Introduced as "my niece,
Kate O'Neill."
As she grew, anything to dlt with
West Africa and with business fasci
nated her .and curiously enough hen
principal Instructor In these matters
was Mrs. Craven. Godfrey, honest
man, was not going to he bothered.
His repartee when Kate asked him
anything ahout the Coast was. "Go
and invite some one to come in and
let's make up a rubber of whist."
When one day he died, and left Kate
th F . O'Neill and Craven business*, both
she and her aunt supposed he had
done it as an effort of humor.
Mrs. Craven had the house and fur
niture at Princes' Park, and a com
fortable annuity to keep it tip on.
Kate canto into a business that haL
been thoroughly neglected, and al
lowed to run down till it was In a very
shaky position. Indeed, financially.
"Sell it." said Mrs. Craven, "for
what It will fetch."
"I'd rather run it myself," said Kale.
“Rubbish." said her aunt; "you're,
twenty, and the world's before you toi
enjoy. Besides, m.v dear, you're sure'
to marry. Sell the business."
"If you want plain facts, aunt. I]
don't ace why anyone should give six- (
pence for it. and If we tried to wind
it up, it would mean bankruptcy. Sotnej
of the money's a very long way out.”
"Your poor I'pcle Godfrey intended
to leave you comfortably off, f know."
“And I’m pleased to think be ditto
believing he had done so. They had
the quaintest wav of keeping books
down at Water Street. Cutting notches
on a tally-stick was nothing to some
of their dodges. They hadn't struck
a proper balance sheet for years, amt
both Uncle Godfrey and Mr. Crewdson
really and honestly imagined that the
firm was flourishing."
"You sell," said Mrs. Craven.
"Not I, aunt. Uncle Godfrey left, me
the concern believing it to be a small
fortune for me, and a fortune I'm go
ing to make out of It, and not a small
one, either.”
"I don’t believe in business women,"
said Mrs. Uraven severely. "I’d rather
sec a womanly woman."
"My dear,” said Kate, "you shall
see the two combined In me presently.
I'm going to make a ve-ry large and
extensive fortune; but the moment,
you see anything unfeinlnlne about
ine, t want you to tell me, and I’ll sell
out forthwith.”
Thereafter from eight o'clock a. m.
to six-thirty p. rn. for five days a week
Kate sat In an Inner room of the Wa
ter Street office, with the ancient
Crewdson as a buffer between her and
the world. She came Into the place
with a talent for figures, and a good
general Idea of the business, and she
set herself first to the conversion of
Mr. Crewdson.
That worthy old person was entirely
of opinion that what was good enough
for poor Mr. Godfrey was quite good
enough for anybody else, and (wh<n
pressed) said so with unfriendly plain
ness. A man, In Kate's shoes, would
have dismissed him, and brought Ini
younger blood. Kate preferred conver
sion. She knew that there was aj
great quarry of Information on mat-j
tors West African stowed beneath Mr.
Crewdson'a dull exterior, and she In
tended to dig at It. So she reduced
his wages, which he quite agreed with
her the llrnt could not afford, and
then, unasked,.offcred him a tine com
mission on the next year's profits. It
was rurious to see how Siam she gal
vanixed him Into an opinion that these
rpoflts must certainly be forthcoming.
She laid In a typewriter, burned the
office quills, wrote the firm's letters,
signed them For O'Neill and Craven.
K. O'Neill, and before she knew It
had created a personality. Ten callers
a day—captains, pursers, traders, titer
chants — wanted to shake hands with
"your new head, Mr. K..“ and went
away with the Idea that old Crewdson
had suddenly developed capacity .and,
on the strength of It had stood him
self a new signature.
On Saturdays, during the summer,
Miss O'Neill caught butterflies, and in
the winter played golf. On Sunday
morning she went to church. On Sun
day afternoons an<| evenings she had
something very nearly approaching a
salon. On these latter occasions Mrs.
Craven flattered herself that she
brought success by her artistic atten
tion lo the commissariat.
Now, the girl was attractive to nten.
and although she was emphatically it
girl's girl, still she had as many
friends of one sex as the other. She
was good-looking, she was amusing,
j she was always well turned out, and
she carried about with her that Inde
scribable ch.trin (above anti beyond
these other matters) which always
people desirous of warming up a first
acquaintance Into Intimacy.
To one man onlv had she shown anv
special degree of preference, anil lie
was enough encouraged thereby to pro
pose marriage lo Iter.
.She accepted him provisionally.
"I am not absolutely certain that I
wish to he married Just yet," she told
him, “but I am going abroad now, and
I will let you know definitely when I
return. Those are not nice terms, but
they are the best I can offer. 1 hav.
been always able to give a 'yes’ or 'no'
decision on every other matter in life
so far. But here I cun't. It is weak
of me. Perhaps It Is merely woman
ly."
"You are exquisite In your woman
liness, as you are exquisite In ever'
thing else," he bad replied. "I am
grateful for any bone of comfort . <lll
throw me, Kate dear."
She was going away tip'll to West
Airlca. as has been Vi'c'l above, and
tno man saw her oft ironi the landing
atage. Hho returned the waving of
his handkerchief, "Now, If you had
abused me for niv Indecision, and said
you would either Ip engaged or not
engaged, I believe I’d have married
you out of hand If you'd wanted me.
But you didn't seem able to clinch
things, and so anyhow you're pigeon
holed for the present. I'm glad I made
you keep our little matier secret."
Ihe man's name was Austin. Many
times during the voyage south through
the Bay, and down the Trades from
the Islands, Kate told herself she
ought to announce the fact that she
was engaged. But on every occasion
her femininity got up In arms. "Cer
tainly not,” said this Intangible force.
Mr. Austin is a man, and If he cares
to he a man and gossip, why let him
Hut a woman by reason of iter sex Is
not raoed upon lo say more than site
needs.” So Kate held her tongue, and
regretted more and more every day
that well -that she should have
cause lor regrets.
\Vncn she got hack to England, n
day ahead of time. Aunt .lane happen- 1
ed to be In London, but Austin hud a
wire from Point L.vitas and was there
on the landing stage to moot her. He;
wanted lo kiss her there before the
world, but she had the advantage of
height, ami avoided him skilfully aad 1
without advertisement. Their subse
quent handshake wa • somewhat of a
fa..nre.
Hullo, Henry." said Miss O’Neill,
".aney seeing von here, t suppose you
will try and make out you came down
here to the landing stage on purpose
to meet ute? How abominally hot IJv-,
erpool Is. and how atrociously the
Mersey smells alter that nice clean;
Smooth River. I lave you caught me
any butterflies? I've brought four
eases full home from the Coast and I
honestly believe I've got two unnamed
specimens something O'Noll!!. |
i here's vanity for you! And now for j
the Custom House."
"Is phi all you have to say to me,
Kitty? I don't think a single hour of
a single day has passed but what I
have thought of you. ami where yon
were, and what you were doing."
"Well. Henry, (hat's more than I
could say. Here, wait, till I catch
that porter's eye. lie's taking my
cabin trunk to the wrong henp About
what wuh in my bead between here
and the Coast. I'll not say. hut once
out there. I'll tell you frankly I gave
little enough thought to anything ex
cept Coast Interests. The first place
I went, ashore at after Sierra I .cone
; was In our own factory at Smooth,
land they'd hail a fight there which
only ended lip when our whistle blew.
The clearing between the factory
building and the forest was full of
dead men I found out that no fewer
i than eight hundred Okky savages had
attacked the place, ami they were all
held off by one of our clerks with a
j couple of Winchesters, anti a half
caste girl who loaded for him. It
sounds Itke a tale out of a book, and
von needn't believe it unless you like;
I t don’t Ihlnk I should believe it tut
less I bad seen things for mvself, but
i I dltl see the men who had boon aet
| ually shot when they tried to rush
| the place, and I can guarantee the
truth of the story."
“Don't tell nte there's a romance
between you anil your clerk."
"There wasn't room for one. He
was engaged to the heroine already,
anil was as consistently rude to me
as he knew how. But I don't mind
telling you he was a magnificent fol
low. lie was a gentleman, too, which
Is rather a rare thing to find on the
Coast. Hut you’re letting me do all
the talk. You haven't told me almut
yourself. What hove you been do
ing?”
"The usual work of a busy solid
tor; getting new clients, and sticking
to the old ones. 1 can report good,
steady success. Kilty. We can start
pretty comfortably."
\ custom" sent-eber put his usual
questions, ami Kate smiled on him
and said she had nothing to declare,
lie scrawled a chalk hieroglyphic on
all Iter property without opening 11
single piece. "There, look, Henry,
stop that porter, lie's taking a ease
of mine to the wrong cab. Thanks, I
wouldn't have lost that ease for n
king's ransom."
"Butterflies?"
“No, a native war horn In Ivory."
"Oil, they’re fairly common."
"Yes. lint a friend gave me this,
and I want to keep It. There, I think
that's the lot Good by, Henry You'll
eonte and see me Ht Princes' Park
when I'm settled down again?"
“Biit, Kill', can’t I drive out with
you now? I’d so looked forward to
driving back with you. There's
plenty of room In the call."
"No.” said Kate, "I'd rather you
went holm now. and thought over
again wfiat I'm like now that Ive
conic hack lo England with a West
Coast flavor. I know you'll disapprove
of me 11- :t possible wife, but I do
hope you'll see your wav of keeping
me on the list *of your friends. No
body knows you ever suggested any
thing more, unless you have told
them, and I don't see why they
should know. But I'm more than ever
convinced that Pin not the girl to
make you the wife you deserve.
Don’t answer me now, there's a nice
Imy. Just go to the club and have
n good dinner, and ring me up some
time this evening and say you thor
oughly agree with me."
Mrs. Craven enme back that even
ing from London and Kate told lior
of West Africa happenings with 11
fine wealth of detail.
The old lad) looked at In r very
narrowly and when she had finished,
"Yes, my dear,” said she, "and now
are yon going to tell me something
that will Interest me fair more than
all that?"
"No. Aunt. I think you have got
the pith of It."
"If you won’t tell, you won’t. But
you must remember, Kitty dear, I
have known you and nursed you ever
since you were a tiny child, and you
can't change-—as you have done —
without my noticing It. Now, this
Mr. Carter "
"Yes, I did forget tn tell you that
he's got frightfully red hair."
"You say he's engaged to I »”'u
Slade?”
“Oppesslvcly do. r
"But I* he going to marry her?”
"How can I tell. Aunt ?"
"Who Is he going to marry, Kitty,
dear?"
CHAPTER XIV.
Tin Hill: The Journey, **
Now, lead-mining has been stopped
In Upper Wharfedala these 30 years,
but still a boy who has heen brought
up In a village there may well have
some general knowledge of ores and
the methods of getting them. Tha
mining first began in those dim Brit*
Ish days before the Romans came,
and It has continued on down through
the centuries till the Influx of
lead brought prlres below 25 pounds
a ton. and the mines could not bo
worked at a profit.
Raw dumps and grass-covered
dumps are traceable on every hand,
and though the older tunneln are ob
literated. there are still enough shafts
and drifts and adtt* to he found la
the gray stone hills to occupy many
months’ exploration.
George Carter had heard of the past
glories of lead from his earliest years,
and old residents pointed to the ruined
cottages that were tilled and flourish
ing Winn the village hold tto people
who lived by the mine*. Instead of
the 2«»0 who dwelt there now and
made a lean living out of a little limp
farming With pocket* stuffed with
candle-ends he had splashed Into the
old levels and wandered for miles tn
the heart of the limestone hills and
hacked with rusty plckhends at for
gotten working faces; he had raked
amongst the old ruined machinery be
side the dumps; he had studied the
run of the water races, and as far as a
man with a natural engineering bent
may reconstruct these things from
memorials of the past, he had done
so most thoroughly, and. In the old
unscientific way. was as good a miner
as any of those blue gummed ruffians
of the past, and that without even
having seen a lend mine In real work.
Tin stone he had seen In a not. very
well-equipped school museum; a tin
mine he knew only from an old book
on Cornwall, which treated that coun
try more from the picturesque point
of view than the mechanical or the
scientific.
But the thing that had fired his
mind one baking daj at Malla Nulla
was a newspaper paragraph whleh
spoke of the price of tin. l T p till then,
like the majority of the human race,
he had not troubled his head as to
whether tin was 5 pounds a ton or 50
pounds. Hut here he saw that it had
gone ill* to no less a figure than 207
pounds 10(i. per ton. He wished he
could find n tin mine, l/i' concluding
he might as well search that particu
lar part of steamy West Africa for
great auk's eggs, went no further
than framing the wish.
Then came the happenings at
Mokkl, and All hen Hosseln's parting
gift of ih** little «ray alone duck which
! iiad iiiiinlaiHkiilil*. i>rown tin crystals
I lor ith head, Its wlrtga and lt« fact,
and on the loji of all arrived Kate's
cablegram. A sweating operator had
read that message from under sea, aa
| u winked out In a darkened cable
hut; runnera had carried the curt
wnrdH along roaring beaches. paddlera
had borne them by canoe up muddy
creeks, a great hank In far-off Ham
burg had pledged the performance of
their promise. A day later the slat
ternly S. H. Krau Pohat lurched un
tidily up the muddy creek a, and com
menced to ease the factory buildings
of their overflowing wealth of Weat
African produce,
I'urler Itched to he off It had come
to this; he could not trust himself In
Kale's neighborhood. I.auru Slade
saw, or fancied he saw, how thlnga
were, and bravely asked him one day
to break their engagement.
Ilul farter drew her down onto the
office chair beside him ami put an arm
round her and kissed her. "Now," he
said, "tell out frankly who It la that
1 you like better than you like me?”
i'll Isn't that, George."
"Well, as fascacs la the only al
ternative, | didn't suppose It wa*.
Come now, out with It, what's the trou
ble-; | suppose you're Just going to
lie a woman and tell me It's my fault?
i | don’t agree with you. I'm the same
me as always was red hair, large
feel, nnd as big an appetite as the
Coast will allow."
She put her face against hla shoul
der. "It ’h Kate, George.”
"You must let nip refer to her aa
Miss O'Neill," said Carter dryly. "You
see, she's my employer- or was—and
we're naturally not on Intimate terms
Well, what's Miss O'Neill got. to
do with my marrying you?"
"She's always been oppoacd to It."
"Twaddle! Now, look hare, my dear,
you've been nervy and upset pver
since that lilt of a scrap at Smooth
River. Now, haven't you?"
“I suppose I have."
"I'm sure of It. And Its' not sur
prising. That was a pretty tough time
for any girl to go through. Well, as
I've told you. I’ve got my nose onto
a fortune that's tucked away up In
the hush, and I'm going to look for
It. I n the meanwhile, as I mannged
to screw sixty golden sovereigns out
of that greedy old Balgarnle for cu
rios that he'll sell for at least a hun
dred and forty, there's Just that
amount of en:;h to take you on a Jaunt
to Grand Canary for rose growing."
"Rose growing?"
"To put color In your cheeks, then,
you pale young person?”
"Hut 1 couldn't take he money
from you."