KATE MEREDITH.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XLIV, Issue 13453, 1 June 1907, Page 3 (Supplement)

KATE MEREDITH.

(rUBUS-IED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT.)

BY 0. J. CU'J'CIjIFFE hynb. Author of 'Adventures of Captain Kettle," "Through Arctic Lapland," "Mr. Uorrocks. Purser." " The Lost Con- . tinent." etc.

blUCiii'* - [ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.] CHAPTER XXI.

SWIZZLE-STICK SMITH. j "Well, Carter, me lad," said captain Image, coining into the room. "They tell me you're the most unpopular man in Liverpool. They want to give you dinners, and put your photo, in the papers, and hear you make a"speech, and you won't have anything to do with anybody. What's broke? Tin troubling you?" "Oh, tin's all right, but I've got a constitutional dislike to marching along at the' tail of a brass band, that's all. Besides,' J feel an awful humbug when all these silly stay-at-home people insist on believing that the one arid only reason I went up country was to chop down old Kallee's private crucifixion tree. Have a cigar?"

"Not me in here, me lad. I came home from the islands with the old M'poso full of passengers, and I've smoked myself half sick of those cigars. I'll suck at a pipe. By the way. I've got a message for you from Kallce. The ohl sinner came on board j himself when we were lying off Edmonson's i factory, trying to get your ore, and nearly drank the ship dry betore I could get quit of him. Owe-it Slade's been palming off] JOU's on him. He'd got quite a sheaf of them. He says when you marry Laura he'll give them to you as a wedding present, or words to that effect. But in the meanwhile, if he can catch Shade he's just going to chop his head off, to prevent him putting any more paper into circulation." "Well?"

"Well, you see, me lad, Slade owes our fo'c'sle shop a matter of four pounds odd which we can't collect, and he's got a Holland gun of mine that I shouldn't really like to lose. Besides, come to think of it, I suppose Laura's fond of him, anyway. Couldn't you do something for him? Carter stared. "Has ho left O'Neill and Craven's, then?" Captain Image stopped clown the tobacco in his pipe with a horny forefinger. "Why, no, and you'll have to pay to get him away." "But what mortal use is he to me?" Captain Image's pipe worked hard, and he spoke in jerks, "Rubber palaver. Oweit Slade's the smartest man at dem rubber palaver on the Coast.'' "Pooh! That Slackster!"

"That's where you're making the usual mistake. Slade's got his faults. He wastes his money, he never pays his bills, he sponges for all eternity, and he makes out lie was born lazy. But don't you believe him. Who got Miss Kate all these rubber properties that she's floated off into such whacking big companies?" "Miss Kate O'Neill." j

"No more than you did, me lad. It was just Owo-it Slade. And to think," Captain Image added with a sigh, " I always put that man down as a borrowing waster, and never even hustled him to collect cargo for l me. Why, if I'd known then what I know now . I could have bought rubber lands through him for a half surf-boaFtul of gin, that I might have sold to a company myself, and dined off turkey in my own house ashore every day for all the rest of my natural life. Why, my Christian aunt!—-I might even have married if I'd worked him properly.". Captain Image dabbled with his forefinger on Carter's coat sleeve and left a print of tobacco ash. "You buy up Owe-it Slade, me lad, and not only is your fortune made, but—well," he added rather lamely, "you buy him up, and just remember I told you to. "But—what were you going to say.' "Well," said Image, desperately, "I didn't intend to tell you. but all up and down the Coast', and in the hotels in Las Palmas, and even in the bars and offices here, the boys don't like the way Miss Kate is playing it -jjjp.YOU. It's all'right for a girl .to . take to business, if she's built that way, but she ought to play tho game. Of course, the general idea is, me lad', that you and she started sweethcarting and had a turn up. but, of course, I'm in the know, and I've called 'em liars every time they've started that tale, and told 'em about Laura and how you were fixed up long before Miss Kate came down on to the Coast. Why, Cartel-, me lad, I've backed up my words with bets to that extent that if you were to marry the lady, now by any kind of accident I should stand to lose, what with one fiver and another, a matter of two hundred and fifty pounds." > Carter laughed. " That puts it finally out of the region of possibility, doesn't it? I can't let you lose a pile like that. But all the same I'm not going to interfere with Miss O'Neill. If Blade's useful to her, let her keep him. I'm much obliged to a lot j of officious idiots for sympathising with me, but really thev're moving on a lot too fast. i ft will be" quite time for other people to be sorry for me when I start in to be sorry for myself. Besides, I thought you, at any rate, were a strong admirer of Miss O'Neill's." T ... "I am." said Captain Image patiently. He always flattered himself that he left the more eloquent, parts of his speech at Sierra Leone on each trip North, and picked them up again there next voyage for vigorous use on the Coast. It was his pride that ho conformed most suitably to Liverpool s sedate atmosphere. "1 admire Miss Kate as a ladv, more than anyone I know, and ii she were only twenty years older, and i could afford it, I wouldn't mind going in for her mvself. But it's her business ideas, as she showed them over that factory of Edmonson's, that I can't stand. The way she stuck up the rent on you, me lad, is the limit, Wbv, if that sort of thing went on, nobody would be safe. It's- Oil Trust morals. I'm Welsh myself, and I do draw the line somewhere." I(T "What Welsh?" eaid Carter politely, i should never have guessed it." "lam," said Captain Image with sturdy truth. "and manv times, look you, I am proud of it, which reminds me that little red-bearded Kettle that you employed to run vour launch and the mine is Welsh also. I don't want to go against a fellow-country-man who's down on his luck, but I saw him with mv own eyes give old Kallee an illustrated Methodv tract on bigamy when he was.on the M'poso. and if his Portliness ■finds anvone kind enough to translate it for aim there'll be the devil to pay. Kallee s black, hut lie's a king, and he's not the kind to let any man tamper with his domestic happiness. Now about Slade —" "We'll drop Slade. He's Miss ONeills man. If Miss O'Neill chooses to amuse herself by gunning for me, that's her concern, But I*don't shoot back." Captain Image shook his head sadly. "Well, me lad, if von won't lift a hand to help yourself, I don't see there's anything more'to be said." He put his pipe in his pocket, stood up and prepared to go. "Oh, by the way, did anyone tell you about old Swizzle-Stick Smith?"

"Not de.'id, is he?'' *■ "Lord bless vou, no, me lad. very much the reverse. Look here, what was your idea of that man?"

"In what wav?" .. ! "What was he before he became the disreputable old palm oil ruffian you first knew at Malla-Nulla?" ~ "Oh, I suppose he was less disreputable once. He'd let himself drift, that's all. One does get into frightfully slack ways in those lonely factories." "Bid he strike you as the usual typo of Man a factory agent's made of?" "Why, no"." Gentleman, wasn't he, or had been °nce! Always used to hitch up the knees of his pyjamas when he sat down and spoke well; knew Latin ; could swear round any man on the Coast when he was that side put ; and had a pleasant way of making you feel you were dirt when the mood took him that way?" Carter laughed. "He had some characteristic little ways." " Ever strike vou he'd been a soldier once?"

" I suppose it did." t "Well, me lad, when I was tied up by the Edmonson factory a boat swung up to ray ladder, and a military party stepped out. Quite the swell, I can tell you ; nobby

white helmet, hair cut with scissors, smart grey moustache, grey imperial bristling underneath it, clean shaved chin, white drill coat with concertina pockets, white drill pants with a creaso down the shin, latest thing in pipeclayed boots. If it hadn't been for the old trick with the eyeglass and the black ribbon, I take my dick I shouldn't have known him." "Hullo, Swizzle-Stick," said 1,, "you are a howler. Whose kit have you been robbing?" " ' Captain Image,' says he, ' allow me— a.r—to present to you Mr. Smith, a new acquaintance. It is —ar —my wish to be mistaken for any of your discreditable —ar — companions of the past.' That to me, and on my own deck, mo lad. What do you think of that?" I Captain Image scratched his head vexed-! ! lyI "I bet you boiled." U "The rum part of it is, I didn't. Some- ■ how I took the man at his own valuation. j There didn't seem anything else left io do. He went into my chart-house, and sat there as solid as if lie'had been the Governor of a {colony with six letters after his name. Just drank one cocktail, and took three swallows at it, I'll trouble yon. and actually left a second to stand by itself on the tray. When i handed him the tobacco tin to ; see if he'd got that frowsy old pipe in his : pocket, I'm hanged if he didn't pull out a book of cigarette papers, and roll himself; a smoke with those. Well, me lad, when I I remembered Swizzle-Slick Smith's opinion of cigarettes, you might have knocked me down with a teaspoon.'" " He scared me out of cigarette smoking at Malla-Nulla," said Carter. "He was pretty emphatic over the weak-kneed crowd I (as he called them) who only smoked cigarj ettes. But why all this revolution in Mr. : Smith's habits" Did he give any reason for it?"

" That's the amazing thing, he didn't at least not a proper reason. He just let |me see that the now Mr. Smith—l got to 'call him Major, by the way—was no relation to the Swizzle-Stick Smith that was, and then went back over the side to his boat."

"I suppose," said Carter thoughtfully, " he wanted the reformation to be advertised."

" Well, you don't think I'd keep a choice bit like that to myself," said Captain Image'. " Naturally I spread the news, though I certainly didn't tell all the Coast, as I've told you, the way that the late 1 I Swizzle-Stick Smith made me feel second man in my own chart-house. But that ! man doesn't need any advertising ; the most genial drunk wouldn't take liberties with him, and you'd fall into calling him Major i yourself if you sat with him for ten, !minutes. My Christian aunt! Just think I what a filthy old palm oil ruffian he used to be!" " Did he give any reason for pulling

up?" I "Ob, I asked him that. Managed to; slip it in, you know. And he answered as dry as you please, ' Urgent private affairs, Captain Image,' and then tagged on some Latin., which, as he remarked would be the case, I didn't understand. You know, me lad," said the sailor thoughtfully, "he's a gentleman right through, but I shouldn't^ think that even in his palmy davs he was a man who would have got on particularly well with people. A bit superior, I should call it, with those who hadn't been birched in the same public school where he was birched." "I suppose," said Carter, "•this is another instance of Miss- O'Neill's influence?" "As to that," said Image, "1 can't say. me lad; but this I can tell you, the major's what he calls ' sent in his papers' to O'Neill and Craven's." "The deuce he has. What on earth

for?" "Can't tell you. Old Crewdson gave me the news. I said to him I didn't suppose the loss of Swizzle-Stick Smith, even now that he had changed himself into Major Smith, would make their firm nut up the shutters. But'Crewdson wouldn't take it as a joke. He told me Miss Kate was very sorry indeed to lose him, and had herself written to ask him to come and see her here in England. Now, me lad, what's her game in that?" ' • " I don't know," said Carter, resolutely, "and I don't want to know. As I tell 'yon, I flatly refuse to interfere in any of Miss O'Neill's affairs."

CHAPTER XXII. V A FISHERMAN AND HIS CATCH.

The fisherman was discontented. ! The reasons for his discontent were not plain to the eye. There had been as good : a fly water as anyone could want, there ' had been enough breeze to ruffle the surface, enough cloud to prevent glare, he had picked just the right flies from his book to suit the river, and the fish rose freely to them. He was carrying home as fine a dish of trout as any man could, wish for, and had scrupulously thrown back everything under 10£ in. But even these things did not please him. He sucked hard at his ! cold pipe, and bit at fate as he tramped on | inwards through the gathering dusk. ' ' He came to a cross roads once, and abused the Welsh- authorities for not putting up a sign post for his guidance. The i district was new to him; indeed, he hid !come there for that reason ; he wanted to be alone for these last days in England. 'He had fished his wav up stream all day, and instead of following the water windI ing back again was making _ his return journey by road. And- here, it appeared, were three roads to choose from. But he! was a man of resource. He depicted mentally a map of the country, found the newlyi risen north star, and got his bearings, and ,jthen trudged on again with confidence among towering mountains. | . It was night now, moonless, chill, and | : dark, and the mountains hung on either side like great • walls of blackness. The : road was white and faintly visible. But ! for all that he had presently to pull up i sharply to avoid an obstruction. "Hullo,"; he said. "a motor-car." And then aloud, "Anybody here?" A grumbling voice answered him from the ditch. " Yes, I'm the driver, and I'm here bathing my confounded wrist." " Had a smash? Can I help? What is it? Bone broken?"

" No, only a bad sprain—," the man ! peered at Carter through the dusk, and added "sir." " Your car seems to be standing up all right on her four wheels. How did you get pitched out?" "Oh, it wasn't that sort of accident. She was misfiring badly, and then she stooped. j I When I tried to start her again she backfired on me, and I thought my arm had gone. It's the jet in the carburetter that's choked, I believe, but I can't take the thins: down with on© hand." | *' I could." Carter thought, and remembered certain episodes with his own first motor-boat in Africa. But he did not mention this aloud. " Owner gone for help?" he asked. i " Yes, sir. But there's none round "here. At least there's no such thing as a mechanic] within twenty miles. A hay motor and a tow to the nearest barn is the best one can expect." "Where's your tool kit?" *' But do you understand motors, sir?" the man asked doubtfully. "I bad to. Just unship a light, and' hold if. with your sound hand so that I can see what I'm about. That's the ticket. j You're sure it's the carburetter? Tried vour spark and all four plugs?" i " Yes, sir, both the mazneto and high! |tension. That's ail right. She's getting no 1 I gas*; that's the trouble. It's the petrol feed that's choked somewhere. I saw the ! fellow that filled us up this moraine pour 1 in from a rod, rusty tin before I could stop him, and it'll be a flake of oxide from that jammed in the carburetter nozzle. If you could take it down for us, sir. I'm sure it would be a verv great favour." "Wait a bit. Before we begin to pull the car to pieces, suppose we just make sure of one or two other things. Got a stick or anything to sound your petrol tank with?"

"Oh, that's all right. We haven't run 60 nines since I put in eight gallons." But Carter straightened out a length of copper wire, unscrewed the cap. and sounded the tank. He pulled out the wire and' examined it at the lamp. He wiped it carefully, and tried a second time. "Moses!" said the driver, " dry as a bone. Now, who's been playing pranks here? Must have been some of that nasty Welsh crowd that was hanging round whilst we were having lunch." "Why. there's the union underneath the tank half unscrewed. That would account for the leak anyway. Here, hold the lamp. Not too close. Yes, and the vibration has cracked the feed pipe. There's a gap I

can get my finger nail into. Now, first of all, have you got any spare petrol?" ; % "Yes, sir. Two tins." " " Good. Then it's worth while mending this feed pipe. I suppose you have. a soldering iron?" "Afraid not, sir. There's rubber solution >.■■■ „ , ~ " Which petrol melts. Here, lets go through your stock. Ah, here's a tube c.f seccotine. Now I'll show you a conjuring trick. If we give the crack three coats of that, and let each dry well before the next is put on— Good Lord!. Kate!" Miss O'Neill came up out of the darkness and bowed. " It's really very good of you, Mr. Carter, to trouble over my car. ' j "I didn't know it was yours. I didn't know you were in this neighbourhood. In fact. I did not know where you were -\ , Kate shrugged her shoulders. " Didn t some sapient person once record that coincidences were the commonest things in life. A minute ago I didn't know whether you. were in England, or West Africa or Grand Canary ; and vou didn't know or care whe- 1 ther I was alive or dead and here we; meet in the dark of an unnamed roadside in Wales. It's just one of those ordinary, i everydav, impossible coincidences which the vogue of motor-cars is making a little more common than usual. I'm gad you re letting business differences sink, for the moment." „ " I didn t know it was your car. "Or you'd have bitten off your hand sooner than have touched it?" He laughed rather drily. I m afraid I should have yielded to the temptation of meddling. You see, internal. combustion engines are rather a fad of mine. . Excellent reason. How long is this ingenious repair going to take? " H'm ; three coats of seccotine— to allow each twenty minutes to dry—call it an hour. After that. I think if wo couple up the union and put in the spare petrol your man says he's "got. you should go sailing off without a hitch. n By the- way, 1 didn't know you motored." , (> "I'm full of unpleasant surprises. " Yes. Cascaes. for instance. "Well, whv shouldn't I open up an O'Neill and Craven agency in Las 1 almas, Pr "No reason whatever. I wasn't referring { to Cascaes' business abilities ■ "Wagner," said Miss O'Neill to her man "there's a farm about a mile down this road where they'll bandage. up your wrist and make you some sort of a sling. Don t be awav longer than you can help. Mr OflHw and I will look after the car until voii get back." , ,' . , } "Thank .you'm," said the driver and • marched off into the night. They stared after him until the sound of his footfalls 'on the hard road died away, and then, Laid Mhs O'Neill, "Why doesnt Mr. i Cascaes answer when I cable'/" i " You can hardlv expect me to overlook 'the work of vour Las Palmas agency. ' 'I " Don't quibble. Do you know why he ; lis silent?" "I can make a guess.

"Well, go on. • "He's probably too busy picking aloe ithorns out of his carcase to find tune for writing cables.' • "Oh' So you threw him into an aloe hedge, did you? What did Laura say to that?" * ~».*•* "Well, as she knew nothing about it, she naturally did not comment." ■ " I see. And did Mr. Cascaes obiect? "Not obtrusively. He took the best licking I ever gave to man or dog without a, whimper, and when I tossed him amongst those aloe hooks he lay there just as he fell." , ■ . "Ah!" said Kate, and drew a long! breath. . ; ■", ' , | "Keen on motoring?" Carter asked, after a pause. "I am— "I'm taking a light four-cylinder back to the islands with me." j i "Let me see, I promised yon a wedding j !present, didn't I? Let me know when it's for. and what you'll have. By the way, talking of coincidences, I was motoring in the Yorkshire Dales a week or so ago, and, coming down out of Wensleydale into Wharfedale. we dropped down over a perfectly terrific piece of road tliat cost me a back tire. Well, unluckily, we'd used up the only other spare cover on the car already, so '.he only thing left was to go slowly on the rim on into the village below and wire for another. " Such, .a dear ,old village .it,, was, of grey 1 stone houses, tucked away under the grey imestone hills, with all the gardens as aright with flowers as you find them in astory book. The parson saw us when we ;am'o- in from skating down that awful bill, and when he. saw. me afterwards strolling round looking at the flowers, he rery nicely asked me to go in and look it his roses. A splendid old man he vas, and such gorgeous roses. Ho likes I jig roses, and he snips off the superfluous suds on the sly, and Mr?. Parson likes ots of blooms to cut at and to give away, md she's always on the watch after him ;o see he doesn't steal those buds. T met] ler, too, and they took me in and gave ne tea. , " They'd some Okky war horns on the vail of the drawing-room, and I told them ['d a very fine one in 'mine, and so naturally we got to talking 'Coast.' .They've i son out thereor, to be more accurate, ,hev had, because he seems to be in Engand nowand they're a good deal troubled ibout him. He keeps on making excuses nstead of going to see them. Mrs. Parson, who by the way is a perfect dear, -aid thev were afraid he had done somehing foolish and was shy about coming lome —

"Well?" said Carter. "Oh, I'm pretty certain the prodigal would have no trouble, with her."

" But the parson. He said nothing about providing veal, I suppose?" "He did not. To be precise, he confined his conversation to roses, and the dale, and a very charming old gentleman lie was. '

"As you may guess," said Carter, savagely, "I don't thank you for going to inspect my people like that." "I; don't recollect," said Miss O'Neill, with much sweetness, "ever asking you to thank me. By accident I stumble across some delightful people; I have the opportunity of enjoying their society, and for the sake, of seeing more of them I lived in the village three whole days. They've asked me to go and stay with them next summer, and I'm going. I •don't set how that can annoy you, as I you've given up going near them." j " I think that crack in the petrol pipe I will stand another coat of seccotine now," I said Carttr, and moved the lamp, and Iknelt once more in the dusty road. j "It seems a pity," said Miss O'Neill, I musingly. j '" I don't see what business it is of yours, anyway," Garter snapped. I " Oh, but surely it's my car that you're so kindly working at. And Ido think I it's a pity you should have all that trouble with that nasty, smelly, sticky, seccotine, when it will all have to be scratched off to-morrow, and the hole soldered up." } Carter laughed in spite of his rage. I "You didn't mean that in the least, but I'll own up you drew me smartly enough, jit is a pity—l mean. ths other thing. I love the dale, and I'm about as fond as a man can be of my people. But when 'you're in love with a girl, and you've projmlsed to many: her, well, other things have to slide."'

"Ah, love," said Kate, thoughtfully. "I wonder what being in love is really like. I must try it some day as an experience. It seems to alter one's obligations. I should like you to hear my friend the parson on obligations." "I can tell you his creed in the matter as he taught it to me as far back as I can remember. The rule, according to him, is:—First: Keep your word. Second : (Jo on keeping it. Third: Don't | let any other considerations whatever interfere with your keeping it." j " Spartan, simple, admirable," said Kate, 'and then could have bitten out her tongue for sending the words past her lips. She j took Carter's hand impulsively enough, • and, "1 beg your pardon for that," she isaid. "' I may think you're a fool, but I know you are also the most honourable j man alive." (To be continued on Saturday next.)