Adventure, November 1915 — page 193: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

hole, A Flutter in Canaries folding his arms and frowning, “the pair of us. There’s but the one thing we can do.” “An’ that?” asked Mr. Higgins, hope dawning in his eyes. ‘An’ that,” said Mr. Sullivan impressive- ly, ‘is to buy back the bird.” The second engineer gave a low groan and sank back against the wall. ‘We have but the ten cents left out of fifteen dollars. Ten cents! I ask you, can we buy a prize canary for ten cents? We can not. An’, Dan, be sensible. There’s Mrs. Bartlett! Will she be willin’ to sell us the bird at the same price she bought it at? She must have her profit on the deal. She’s a pertic’ler friend o’ mine, of course, but friendship’s nothin’ when it comes to money.” Mr. Sullivan dismissed all difficulties with a wave of his hand. “Ts it profit she wants?” said he. ‘An’ why not? Sure, it’s no more than right that she should.” “An’ will you give it him into his own hands, an’ say that you had it?” asked Mr. “Will I say I’m a born idjut, or the friend of wan? I will not. The bird will be found in the engine-room or the stoke- mebbe, where he losht himself. There’s not a thing that I’ve not planned for already, not wan—only the money. Where we will get that I do not know—yit. But wan thing I do know for sartain, Sam, an’ that is tomorra you will buy back the bird from Mrs. Bartlett.” “Til turn in now,” said Mr. Higgins. “T’m tired an’—an’ my head aches with all this worryin’. Most like Pll have thought of some way to raise the money by mornin’.”’ He lifted the curtain hanging. over the door and disappeared into the night. Mr. Sullivan knocked the ashes from his pipe and yawned. He, too, was sleepy and would go to bed. He fell asleep, thinking sadly of the empty ‘ cage and the chief engineer with his face hidden in his hands, grieving for his lost pet. },. NEXT morning, directly breakfast oar was over—a meal made wearisome by an anecdote of the Captain’s, covering some years of his early life in the city of Edinburgh—Mr. Sullivan departed in search of the second engineer. As he hastened along the bridge deck, his mind full of the task he had set himself, there came to his ears the sound of voices raised in. anger. Mr. Sullivan halted by the door of the galley. “Now, listen to me,” said one of the voices, “an’ I mean what I say. Ill kill that - cat as sure as you live. I’m sick an’ tired of : With the air of one enjoying an after- breakfast stroll in the sunshine, Mr. Sulli- van walked slowly to the other side of the deck, turning the corner by the fiddley just in time to see the chief engineer shake his fist in the second’s face. “He didn’t. touch the bird,” said Mr. Higgins weakly, giving back a pace. “Tm. positive he didn’t.” And then Mr. Sullivan saw that Mr. Higgins held in his arms Rufus, the black cat, whose appearance betokened indig- nation and soreness of mind. “How do you know ’e didn’t?” said Mr. Brandon, his chin thrust forward aggressive- ly. “What proof ’ave you?” “Why —why—”’. Mr. Higgins faltered “Tf it comes to that, what proof have you that he did? How could a cat unhook the door of a bird-cage, eh?” “Some —— fool opened it, an’ forgot to close it, an’ the bird got out an’ ——” “An’ flew away,” said Mr. Higgins mild- ly. “That’s what he did, sir. Flew away. He’s probably over in Oakland by now, or Goat Island or Sausalito. Maybe he’ll find a good home——” With an inarticulate grunt the chief engineer stalked off toward the engine- room. Mr. Higgins dropped the cat on to the deck and wiped his forehead. ““What’s the matther, Sam?” asked Mr. Sullivan, “What’s he been talkin’ to ye like that for?”’ . “That ginger-headed, bladder-bellied old cockroach,” said Mr. Higgins, released from all restraint in his choice of words, “‘was tryin’ to catch Rufus. Said he’d eaten his blasted canary. Wish he’d eaten fifty of his canaries, an’ him, too, barrin’ the effect he’d have on the cat’s stomach. Did you hear him? If he hadn’t been chief en- gineer I’d have given him a pence on the jaw that ’ud have stopped his talk for a fortnight.” Mr. Sullivan stroked his chin. “Sammy—” he said, and broke off abruptly. Within hearing distance stood two of the deck hands, the cook, the carpenter, IQL COPMICLIOOKS (C@