Argosy All-Story Weekly, Vol. 124, No. 2 — page 136: what you’re looking at

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

318 heard every word that had passed between Durand and me. I was not afraid, for he had come to me highly recommended m a letter from an old friend. As a gentleman’s gentleman he was all that could be asked. And in this-case he was as efficient as a battle-ship, for in less than an hour from the time Durand entered the house the cap- tain and I were in a ‘taxi and bound for the Orion. Before the hour had passed far into a second I was mspecting the doctor’s cabm on beard the steamer. Savidge’s room was near tHe captain’s and opened into the great saloon, down the center of which ran a long table. On either side of the saloon were smaller cabins for passeniers. I was rather impressed by the size and fittings of my apartment. The locker was full of Billy’s clothes, and his medicine-chest full of medicines, the names of which meant hittle or nothing to me. When Durand had introduced me to the _ purser and one or two officers as Dr. Kent, substituting for Dr. Savidge, I felt like the fraud I was; then he had taken me to my room. “ Better get into Billy’s uniform; it 1 ejust about fit you,” he remarked. “ Will see you later.” And off he went to his duties. I suppose there was the usual bustle on deck when we started, but I did not take part in it, feeling too much like a thief to show myself in my borrowed plumes, and we were well down the bay by breakfast- time. The captain was not present at that meal, as he could not leave the deck until the pilot was dropped off the Hook. The table was half filled, and as I looked down the line of passengers I was satisfied to note that they all appeared healthy and probably would not need the services of a physician. I picked out Mile. Zingaria easily enough. She came sailing from a room about half-way down the saloon and on the same side as my own—a woman of. at least forty-five, slight, rather overdressed, with delicately tinted cheeks, a mass of blond hair, and an air of sprightliness that could have deceived no one. The earmarks of an actress who resemted advancing years was plain enough to any man of the world. * The morning passed without event. After ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. lunch I went on deck for air. The Jersey " coast was a blue cloud in the distance, the _ Sky overcast and the‘ atmosphere damp. Having had no sleep the night before and there being nothing novel to me in a sea trip, I returned to my room to take a nap. Throwing off my coat, or Billy’s, I was about to stretch myself on the bed when. there came a knock at my door. “ Great Heaven! A patient already!” I ejaculated, and called a: “ Come in.” | The man who entered surprised me by his appearance. He was shabbily dressed in an old brown sweater and dark trousers, while his soiled shirt-band was collarless. His dirty face was rather attractive de- spite a short, ragged beard, and his brown hair was naturally wavy.. In his hand he carried a dilapidated cloth cap. ‘I looked at him in amazement, thinking him one of the crew, and wondered how he had man- aged to get into the saloon. ‘What is it?” I asked, sitting on the edge of the bed. The man closed the door gently and ad- vanced into the room. “ You are Dr. Kent?” “ “ Yes. Who are your You are no pas- senger. » “Do you confme your services to pas- sengers, doctor?” he asked, in an easy, re- fined voice. “‘ However, I am a passenger —a trifle late in arriving. Made my début aboard through the coal-hatch.” “You mean you are a common stow- away?’’ I demanded severely. “It is to be regretted, doctor,” he re- turned, with the greatest sang froid, as he seated himself on a locker, “ that euphem- ism, as practised in the days of Queen Eliz- abeth, and perhaps carried to excess at that ‘period, is not more in vogue at present. A stow-away? Hardly, sir, since I am not stowed away. Rather, a gentleman in mis- fortune who, under stress, has been obliged to act in an unconventional manner.” ‘What the devil—” “Don’t doctor, don’t!” he mterrupted. “ Let us be quite frank and friendly. You'll admit that a coa!l-bunker is not a comforta- ble abode for a gentleman—let alone the danger of being pierced by a pickax in the hands of a common coal-passer. One mo- CORMCOOCKS (CO ww