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“ Contraband”
By Randall Parrish
Copyright A. C. McClurg & Co.
ROBERT HOLLIS MEETS THE MYSTERIOUS GIRL AND HAS
LONG TALK WITH HER-WORD COMES THAT
WAR HAS BEEN DECLARED
Synopsis.—Robert Hollis, one-time sea captain, who tells-the story,
is a guest on Gerald Carrington’s yacht. Esmeralda, which, with a
party of gay New York business men, is making her maiden voyage to
the coast of Spain. It is supposed to be strictly “stag,” and Hollis,
wandering alone on deck at night is surprised to discover on board a
woman who evidently wishes to remain unknown. The next night lie
succeeds in meeting her and having an interview.
CHAPTER ll.—Continued.
Before the party finally broke up I
had outlined my plan. I was in no
haste to retire, having slept more or
less during the afternoon; I would re
main alone on deck, and see what hap
pened. We were steaming right gal
lantly now, and stars were finding rifts
in the clouds through which to silver
the waves of the Sound. The first offi
cer was still on the bridge, but Seeley
would relieve him at twelve; there
was nothing for me to do but wait until
then.
1 could better my position, however,
and immediately did so. If the second
officer really proved to be the accom
plice of the girl, he would very prob
ably take a rather careful survey of
the deck aft before permitting her to
venture forth from concealment. If
his search disclosed my presence, the
young woman would doubtless be or
dered to remain below. My choice of
position was easily determined. The
flag locker was unusually commodious,
as one of Carrington’s hobbies was to
dress the ship handsomely on every
gala occasion, and display the colors
of all nations. It was built directly
against the after rail, and back into
its protective shadow I silently drew a
steamer chair, concealed myself be
neath the folds of a rug, and lay there
quietly.
Time dragged, but finally the bell
forward announced the hour for the
change of watch. I was sailor enough
to comprehend the meaning of every
sound. I heard someone walk hastily
across the main deck, and descend
through the companion—a seaman dis
patched to call the second mate. The
two came back together. Five min
utes later, with no warning sound of
approach, I became aware that some
one had quietly rounded the end of the
cabin. The mate passed me by within
a few feet, so close, indeed, I could
distinguish the buttons on his uniform,
and the white cap he wore. Nothing,
however, could have occurred to arouse
his suspicions, for the man did not
even pause in his slow walk, but disap
peared along the port rail. Fearing
he might return, I remained motion
less, yet was doubly assured now that
my suspicions were about to be veri
fied. I dared not venture any explo
ration. Thus far my plan had worked
nicely, and I could not now afford to
risk discovery. She came so silently,
like a gray shadow gliding out of the
night, that she was actually beside the
rail, gazing steadfastly out at the sil
very water, before I was even clearly
aware of her presence. I was scarcely
willing to accept the evidence of my
own eyes, yet arose slowly to a sitting
posture to observe better, dropping the
rug silently onto the deck. She heard
no sound of the movement, and, with
no suspicion of any other presence
near, remained motionless, drinking in
the soft beauty of the night, and
breathing deeply the crisp salt air.
I could see her plainly, silhouetted
against the sky. illumined by the star
gleam which reflected upward from the
water, her hands clasped on the rail,
her form bent slightly forward, her
skirts blowing lightly in the wind. She
was slender and young, no doubt as to
that, with a certain supple grace to her
figure noticeable even in that quiet
posture.
Helped by the support of the flag
locker, I tttained my feet noiselessly,
only half determined . n the course I
had better pursue. However, I was
left no choice. Something served to
startle her, to make her vaguely aware
of some other presence on the deck.
She turned, still grasping the rail with
one hand, and confronted me. I caught
a glimpse of her face, white and youth
ful, her big eyes staring at me as
though In sudden terror. She stepped
back, then straightened slightly, her
questioning eyes never leaving my
face.
“I —I supposed myself to be alone,”
she said, the words uncertain, but the
voice clear. “You are one of the pas
sengers?”
"Yes; I chanced to be still on deck
when you came.”
"Where? You were expecting tae?”
I indicated the chair in the shadow,
but did not venture to move.
“I was lying here, covered by a rug,
but did not see you until you appeared
yonder at the rail. Why do you ask
if I was expecting you?”
She hesitated just an instant, but an
swered frankly.
“There was a man here last night,
after the engines stopped. I believed
then he failed to see me. W'as it you,
and are you here again tonight to make
sure?”
“You have guessed the exact truth,”
I confessed, almost regretfully. “Last
night it was a mere accident, but to
night my presence here had an object.”
“Indeed! What interest is it of
yours?”
“None directly, except as I am a
friend to Mr. Carrington, the owner
of this yacht, and also his guest. He
assured me only this morning that
there was no woman on board, and
laughed at me for even imagining such
a thing. Naturally I desired to vindi
cate myself; then besides the mystery
also had its attractions.”
“No doubt! And now that you have
progressed so far, what further do you
purpose doing—turn me over to the
authorities?”
“I do not know,” I said honestly.
“But I am in hopes you will trust me
enough to explain your object in thus
coming uninvited aboard. I should pre
fer being your friend, if that prove
possible.”
She did not answer, apparently hesi
tating in surprise at my unexpected
plea, and doubtful as to my sincerity.
“What is your name?”
“Robert Hollis; I live in Chicago.”
She nodded, and I imagined the ex
pression of her eyes changed slightly.
The merest semblance of a smile
curved her lips.
“I am rather glad you are my dis
coverer,” she said quietly, “for I know
who you are. You are not altogether
a stranger.”
“I am not I” I exclaimed in surprise.
“Oh I I understand: Seeley has told
you of me.”
“Has he indeed! Why Seeley?”
"Because I have some reason to be
lieve that the second officer is your
special friend on board: that through
his aid you have found concealment.
Am I altogether wrong?”
She laughed—the sound barely au
dible, yet evidence of her swift amuse
ment.
“If I did not chance to know better,
Mr. Hollis, I should almost suspect you
of being a lawyer,” she said cheer
fully. “However, in spite of my pres
ent position, I am Inclined to be a
truthful person. I fear Mr. Seeley’s in
terest in me is altogether, or at least
largely, mercenary. I will confide in
you, and confess that he has already
cost me one hundred dollars, and
heaven alone knows bow much more
will be required before we attain deep
water, when I hope to be free from
bondage.”
“Good! lam encouraged; now you
will tell me more?”
She shook her head.
“Not another word, sir. So far, as
they say in New York, ‘you have the
goods on me,’ and denial would be use
less. Os course, I might have told a
falsehood. I am perfectly capable of
so doing, and had I been conversing
with some others on board, I would
have chosen to do so.”
“Which would seem to imply that
you possess a measure of confidence in
me?”
“I do, Mr. Hollis,” quietly.
“Seeley must have given me a most
excellent reputation, and deserves re
ward.”
“Mr. Seeley gave me your name as
one of the passengers, nothing more.
I cannot at present explain when, or
how, I acquired my information regard
ing you. To you I am a perfect
stranger, and must remain so, but, by
some good fortune, I chance to know
enough of you to trust you thoroughly
as a gentleman. You understand what
I mean?”
Iler eyes met mine frankly; they
were clear, honest eyes, and I felt that
I read their direct challenge.
“Perhaps so,” I answered with a feel
ing of disappointment. “You mean I
am to ask no further questions? to for
get, if possible, your presence on
board?”
“Yes; can you do this?”
“Well, to be perfectly frank, I am
not altogether certain that I can, or
that I ought. I am Mr. Carrington's
guest, and owe him a certain loyalty—
you admit that?”
“Yes.”
“Have I a right to conceal from my
host the knowledge which I have dis
covered, that a strange young woman
has been hidden on board his yacht by
one of his officers?”
“That must depend altogether on
your sense of duty to both Mr. Carring
ton and myself," she returned calmly.
“Do I appear like a thief? a conspira-
THE BULLETIN, IRWINTON, GEORGIA.
tor? or in any way a desperate charac-1
ter?”
“You appear a most charming young
woman, whom I should be very glad to
know.”
“Thank you,” and her lips smiled.
“Then my case is not quite hopeless.
As a ‘most charming young woman’ I
unreservedly yield myself to your pro
tection. I cannot tell you who I am.
nor why I am on board the Esmeralda
secretly, but I give you my word of
honor that no harm shall result from
my presence to any of your friends,
and I only request you to remain si
lent for a few hours longer.”
“You intend later to reveal yourself
to others?”
“As soon as the yacht is safely at
sea, beyond all possibility of putting
me ashore.”
I confess I was puzzled, uncertain;
my duty to Carrington seemed clear
enough, and yet there was that about
the girl which gave me faith in her
pledge. She read my hesitation.
“You still doubt me. Mr. Hollis?”
“No, it is not doubt, yet I know so
little. You will at least trust me with
your name?”
Her eyes fell, shadowed by their long
lashes. For a moment she looked out
across the rail, at the dark water be
yond.
“So far as I can —yes,” she answered
soberly. “You may call me Vera.”
CHAPTER 111.
War, and a Copper Pool.
“Vera,” 1 echoed, in some way
vaguely conscious of a strange famil
iarity with the word, yet utterly un
able to immediately recall the associa
tion, “that must be your given, not
your family name?”
“And you are not even satisfied at
this evidence of my trust?” she ques
tioned lightly. “Usually it is consid
ered quite a compliment to be permit
ted to call a lady by her given name —
yet I grant you, a stranger, this privi
lege.”
“To which I am not insensible;
yours is not a common appellative, yet
I have known someone so named be
fore.”
“Indeed! A friend?”
“Well, really, I cannot say ; I haven’t
quite figured it out yet; only the mem
ory haunts me oddly, as something I
ought to remember.”
“Or else forget,” she interrupted
quickly. “What do you say if we blot
out all this mystery, and just be natu-
——n—
! Breathless With Interest, She Ques
tioned Me.
ral for a while? Have you the slight
est knowledge of where we are, Mr.
Hollis? What is that light flashing
out yonder?”
“Montauk point,” I answered, in
stantly recognizing the peculiar flash.
"The eastern extremity of Long island.
We shall be breasting the Atlantic by
daylight if all is well. I have good
reason to remember Montauk.”
“Yes? You were there?”
“Once; why, it was sixteen years ago
at the close of our war with Spain. I
served on the St. Paul, and we came
up from Cuba loaded with sick and
wounded soldiers — Michigan troops
mostly—and put them ashore at Mon
tauk. I was little more than a boy
then, and the suffering witnessed made
a deep Impression.”
“You were a sailor?”
“I was twelve years at sea; my fa
ther was a large ship owner. I left
the sea when I was thirty; I had
arisen to command, my father died,
and I decided I had had enough. I sup
pose I seem quite ancient to you?”
“Indeed you do not. I think it is
wonderful for you to fight your way
like that, when your father was rich.
It was a man’s work. Tell me about
it. Your sea life, I mean.”
The eagerness of her voice must
have touched a responsive chord, for
almost before I realized my purpose, I
began speaking. I began at the first,
relating my life as cabin boy, and as
mnn before the mast, my first voyage
as mate, and the experiences of my
The Best Sea
Story of the
War That Has
Been Written
earliest command. I told of shipwreck
in the South seas; of a battle for life
in the Indian ocean; of strange peoples
met in every quarter of the earth;
of fighting windy gales off the Atlan
tic coast, and the silent desolation of
tropic seas. Breathless with interest,
she questioned me, and I answered,
feeling the magic of her eyes on my
face, the soft intoxication of her pres
ence beside me. She was natural,
wholesome, the very sort of woman I
had dreamed about, as being some
where in the world, yet had never met
before. Her very presence was inspi
ration, but beyond this vague impres
sion my dream did not go. Then I
looked aside at her and laughed, realiz
ing suddenly how loquacious I had
been.
“Really, I must have nearly talked
you to sleep,” I said regretfully. “I do
not know when I have before bgen
guilty of such egotism.”
“Do not say that. It was most in
teresting. It is nice to be spoken to
as though one was an Intelligent hu
man being—it is quite an experience.”
“Perhaps I do not understand.”
“Doubtless not, for you are not a
girl, and you tell me you never sought
society. The very nature of your life
has left you frank and straightforward.
You talk to me just as you would to a
man.”
“If my frankness has interested
you,” I ventured, “can you not realize
how much I desire to learn more —who
you are, why you are here?”
“Os course; but I cannot tell you,
Mr. Hollis —not yet.”
She looked at her wrist watch, hold
ing it out into a star-gleam, which re
vealed the white shapeliness of her
arm.
“I dare not even remain here with
you longer.”
“But you will come again? This is
not to be our last meeting?”
She hesitated, her eyes meeting
mine almost kindly; then she held out
her hand.
“The last —yes, in this way. You
will meet me again, but not as we are
tonight. I have truly enjoyed being
with you, of hearing your story, but
this meeting here alone was not my
choice. You understand I could not
avoid it, and after I was discovered,
I had to remain and win your pledge
to secrecy. You will not forget that?”
“Assuredly not. You will not return
to the deck tomorrow night?”
She laughed softly, and withdrew
her hand, which I still held.
“Tomorrow night! Oh, I cannot
tell; we may be far enough at sea by
then so I need no longer seek fresh air
by night. I told you my concealment
was only temporary. Good night, Mr.
Hollis.”
The gray dress she wore left upon
me the impression that she faded
from sight, her dim outline vanished
so suddenly amid the shadows. I took
a swift step forward, impelled by an
irresistible desire to ascertain in what
portion of the yacht she found conceal
ment, yet paused almost as quickly.
Who she was, and why she had chosen
so unconventional a manner of joining
us, was beyond my guessing. I essayed
many a theory, yet one after the other,
all broke down, and left me groping in
darkness. Only one fact remained
steadfast, to which I could cling with
confidence—the girl was no mere ad
venturess, no criminal; she was doing
nothing of which she was in the least
ashamed, nor had she the slightest
fear the consequences.
I slept so soundly as to be the last
guest at the breakfast table the next
morning, although as I sat there alone
Fosdick returned from the deck to the
cabin, seeking a raincoat, and report
ing a heavy fog, through which the
yacht was proceeding slowly. The ves
sel was still within easy view of Mon
tauk, or had been before the mist shut
down, but the really important news
had come to Carrington by wireless —
positive information of the outbreak
of war. Russia and France were pit
ted against Germany and Austria in
the death grapple. The German troops
had already begun an Invasion of Bel
gium on their drive toward Paris. It
was still unknown what course Eng
land would take.
The nature of this news obscured all
else, and left me unable to complete
my meal. Other messages were mo
mentarily expected, and I dressed has
tily, and joined the little group on the
deck, just as a cabin boy handed Car
rington a new message. He read it,
crashing his clenched hand down on
the rail.
“It’s all over with now,” he ex
claimed, holding the paper aloft, and
gazing about into our eager faces.
“England declares war, gentlemen. She
will stand by her treaty with Belgium.
Here is our opportunity; listen to me.
; This is going to be the greatest war
iin history; every nation In Europe may
Ibe involved before it is ended. Do you
j realize the commodity most in de
■ ma nd? the one metal those armies can
j not get along without? It is copper.
! They must have it, and they must buy
iit of us. This morning, as soon as I
j received that first dispatch, I wired my
J agents to buy. buy. Now, with Eng
i land in, the result is certain.”
He paused, and studied the faces In
the group.
“Gentlemen, there is wealth enough
here on this yacht to control the entire
copper output, if we work swiftly. The
profit will be enormous. I have the
campaign all mapped out; I know
where to buy, and my agents are ready
to execute my orders. I am going to
say to you frankly that I had the
thought in mind when I first organized
this cruise. I believed this crisis was
approaching, and prepared for it. By
wireless we can operate surely and se
cretly, with no possible fear of be
trayal. The only question is, are you
ready to back me up?”
The expression on the faces of those
gathered about him reflected the va
ried character of the men. They were
alike startled by the unexpected turn
of affairs, yet financial greed evidently
predominated. Even the one German
in the group had seemingly forgotten
his nationality in view of the golden
bait dangling so temptingly before his
eyes. Fosdick, actuated by his lawyer
instincts, and still cool and calculating,
was first to question the proposition.
“You are perfectly assured of being
able to control the market?” Fosdick
asked.
“I already practically control,” re
turned Carrington confidently. “With
a little more capital the game is cer
tain. In twelve hours, gentlemen, we
can have the copper situation entirely
in our hands. Here are my holdings
individually. I need your help to
close the deal.”
They bent over the papers, eager to
grasp the truth, but abundantly satis
fied with a quick glance at the magic
figures. It was evidently enough a
master stroke, a business deal easy to
comprehend, and all that remained for
them to do was to take their profits.
“You—you return immediately to
New York?” questioned McCann, his
lips trembling.
“Certainly not; our game at present
is to keep out of sight; permit no one
to discover who is behind the movt
ment. Your personal checks will sat
isfy me. I propose holding the yacht,
say a hundred miles from shore, and
conducting the entire business by wire
less. That makes it safe and sure.”
The group of financiers stared at
each other, one waiting for the next
to voice decision. Fosdick, as usual,
took the initiative.
“I’m heartily with you, Carrington,"
he said frankly, “you can count on my
check for a hundred thousand dollars
right now.”
“And I,” “and I,” echoed from lip to
lip.
Carrington, smiling pleasantly,
turned toward me.
“And how about you, Hollis? Com
ing in with us? We ought to have one
Chicago representative, you know.”
I shook my head, doubting my abil
ity to produce the amount required off
hand.
“Not today; give me a few hours to
think it over. I should like to talk
with you privately first.”
“All right; we shall have enough
without you, but I’ll hold the chance
open until you do decide. Let’s ad
journ to the cabin, gentlemen, where
you can draw your checks while the
steward opens a few bottles. This Is
an occasion to be celebrated.”
We were upon our feet, not unwilling
to escape from the raw air, when the
voice of the lookout sounded muffled,
but distinct, far forward.
“Sail ho!”
“Where away?” echoed the bridge.
“Off the starboard bow, sir—a big
one.”
We gathered at the rail staring out
blankly into the smother. Then sud
denly the mist seemed to roll asunder
as though cut by a knife, and there
in the rift, as if the fog were a frame,
appeared one of the finest sea pictures
I ever remember seeing. A huge iron
warship, her funnels belching smoke
at full speed, the white spray racing
along her sides, swept into view. We
had a glimpse of the black muzzles of
guns protruding from forward and
after turrets, of groups of sailors on
deck, and in the fighting tops; a white
clad officer leaned over the bridge rail.
There was no flag, nor did we need one
to know for what she stood. Carring
ton pointed out into the blank mist.
“There goes one of your bulldogs
now,” he said. “That fellow has his
orders already. In five hours more not
a German liner will dare leave New
York.”
With the new# of war and evi
dences of warlike activities on
the sea, Carrington’s party be
gin to think they will have some
real adventure before they reach
their destination.
(TO BE CONTINUED.)
Macedonia Country of Queer People.
Here in Macedonia we are so very
far away. In actual distance we may
be nearer home than if we were in
Egypt, says a correspondent of the
Manchester Guardian. We knew a io;
about Egypt before we went there, but
very few of us knew anything at al.
about Salonlca, and the country which
lies behind it, nor did that country
know anything about us. Coming here
you pass through that highly flavored
town as through a gate, and enter s
strange country, a country of queer
people, queer animals and queer names,
Out of His Line.
“Who was the man that just stopper
you on the street and waved his hand;
around so distractedly?”
“Oh, that was Stardust, the cele
brated astronomer, who discovered and
named 186 minor planets.”
“What was his trouble?”
“He couldn’t make up his mind
whether to name his new baby Charlu
or William."
Divine
Friendship
By REV. JAMES M.GRAY, D.D.
Dean of Moody Bible Institute,
Chicago
TEXT—Behold a friend of publicans and
sinners!—Matthew -11:19.
This was a name given derisively by
pharisees to our Lord and Saviour,
Jesus Christ. But
since he did not
disown it it be
comes for that
reason very pre
cious to every
soul who has come
to believe on him.
(1) The friend
ship of Jesus for
sinners, who trust
in him, is marked
by absolute disin
terestedness. It is
meant by this
that it does not
depend upon any
thing in us. Solo
mon says that
“Every man is a friend to him that
giveth gifts,” but we have nothing to
give to Jesus by which to merit his
friendship. Indeed, his friendship is
especially offered to the poor, for it
is written in Isaiah, “He that hath no
money, let him buy.” Neither is there
any goodness in us to awaken his
friendship, for “while we were yet sin
ners Christ died for us,” as Paul says
to the Romans in chapter 5 of his let
ter to them. It is just as we are with
out any claim or good deeds to recom
mend us—with no friendship towards
God in our hearts and Indeed, even
with enmity towards him, that he mani
fests his friendship towards us in his
son.
His Constancy. ,
(2) Consider the constancy of this
friendship which is as unchangeable
as the nature of God who is “the same
yesterday, today and forever.” We can
not trust in any earthly friend like
this or put confidence in any earthly
guide, for as the Bible says, “even a
son will dishonor his father and a
daughter rise up against her mother,
and a man’s enemies are the men of
his own house.” Job complains that
in his adversity his friends scorned
him, and few of us have not known
desertion under similar circumstances.
But Christ is “a friend who loveth at
all times and a brother born for ad
versity.” Some time ago I heard of a
youth who had been driven out of hiS
mother’s home because of idleness, but
there Is a promise even for such as he,
since it is written in the 27th Psalm:
“When my father and my mother for
sake me, then the Lord will take me
up.” The great Doctor Johnson used
to say that if a man’s friendship in
this world is to amount to anything he
must keep it in good repair. He meant
that we must make new friends as life
advances or else by and by we shall
be left without any. There is much
truth in this. Where are the friends
of our budding youth, to whom we
told more secrets than our parents
knew? How many of them are forgot
ten and have forgotten us? But it is
not so with the divine friendship.
His Helpfulness.
(3) Then this divine friendship Is so
practical In its helpfulness. In the
first place, it helped us out of the death
of sin into the life of righteousness.
It has redeemed us through the cross
from the guilt and power of sin. Again,
as the Psalmist says, ‘‘God Is a very
present help in time of trouble.” We
may come boldly to the throne of
grace to find grace to help in time of
need. “The Holy Spirit helpeth our in
firmity for we know not what to pray
for as we ought.” Then God hath set
some in the church as “helps,” as we
learn in Paul’s first epistle to the
Corinthians. What help do we find in
a faithful pastor or Sunday school
teacher, or some other Christian lead
er who has really within him the Word
of God and who is consistent in his
daily life? How we should thank God
for all these means of grace which he
has given us In our earthly journey!
And yet we have not spoken of that
constant help we find in the reading
and study of his Holy Word.
Hi# Loyalty.
(4) Finally Jesus is a friend of ours
who is not ashamed to acknowledge us
as friends of his. Addressing his dis
ciples he said: “Henceforth I call you
not servants, for the servant knoweth
not what his lord doeth, but I have
called you friends, for all things that
I have heard of my Father I have
made known to you.” The rich are
ready to patronize the poor, and the
learned to patronize the ignorant. For
example, a late philanthropist is said
to have bestowed SI,OOO a day in
benevolences. There were many who
were pleased to call him their friend,
and doubtless he was gratified to be so
designated. But in how many cases
would he have been prepared to return
the compliment? What proportion of
those whom he helped would he have
been disposed to introduce to his ac
quaintanceship as his friends? They
were the objects of his charity. He was
Interested in them, to be sure; but that
was all. Oh, there is a great differ
ence between your calling me your
friend and my calling you my friend.
But, of Jesus it is written, “But he
that sanctifleth and they who are sanc
tified are all of one, for which cause
he is not ashamed to call them breth
ren.” Surely this is a friend to know
and to love and serve!
