Chapter IV · TWO PANETELAS.

Upon quitting Chief Garth’s door and trotting down his stoop, I walked briskly westward in the direction of a square which I counted upon getting another cab; for, expecting no further use of him, I had dismissed my former driver. I found two cabs, both taxis, and immediately stepped toward the nearest.

“Grand Central Station!” said I to the fellow dozing on his seat.

He came to with a start just as I was yanking open the door.

“Hold on a minute, mister,” stammered the man, “I’m engaged.”

I glanced at his “clock.” Sure enough, his “vacant” sign was down. He was waiting for somebody.

“Bill, yonder, ain’t got no fare,” offered the driver, thumbing in the direction of the car beyond. “He’ll carry ye.”

And next minute I had given directions to “Bill,” who cranked forthwith; and, speed having evidently showed in my attitude, we turned the corner almost on two wheels. But my ear caught the whir of the first car as it, in turn, was started.

I might have saved myself some anxiety had I stopped to think that, near midnight as it was, the streets were free from traffic. There is something in me that delights in speed, and that ride was a little slice of joy in itself. We reached the station in plenty of time for my train.

I broke the twenty-dollar bill I had so easily earned that afternoon, and secured my berth before boarding the Pullman.

Some impulse prompted me to turn my head just as I was passing through the gate entrance to trains; and the station, at this hour, was deserted enough for me to note the fact that another man stood before the Pullman ticket window, his back toward me. Once aboard the sleeping car, I slipped a quarter into the eagerly expectant palm of the dusky attendant, and said: “Make up number seven, George,” and then passed up the aisle into the smoking room.

I had been on a steady and momentous jump since the minute I had clapped my eyes on the launch at a quarter to five. I must run over things a bit; and I reasoned that the two dark-hued panetelas that still remained unbroken in my upper vest pocket would help.

What I wondered at was my own attitude in the matter of this chase. Where did I stand? Here I was, without any data whatever as to what he was wanted for, virtually throwing myself into the chase of a man who had shown himself closely related in some way to a girl whom I had, in a most freakish and outlandish manner, fallen in love with. Why?

Honesty with myself soon told me that it wasn’t alone professional duty that was whirling me toward Portland.

But what of Pawlinson? It must be big game, or he wouldn’t be connected with it, let alone personally engaged in sleuth work.

Then, again, how was I going to figure with Pawlinson when he discovered that I, who now was engaged as his own hireling through Chief Garth, was the selfsame man who had just thwarted him by having him punched prettily over the side of a launch?

I was really not much to blame in this; for I had done the thing unwittingly enough; but such things aren’t easily brooked. In spite of myself, though, I couldn’t help chuckling at the memory of the incident.

I had never seen Pawlinson before; but I stood in as much awe as the rest of the cubs at his name; and it did me a bit of inward good to think of the merriment I could make in recounting the thing to them later.

I knew little of the history of the man; but the little I did know was out of the ordinary.

To begin with, nobody had ever heard that such a man existed until a short three years before; but then he had suddenly sprung into the most dazzling limelight.

At that time the entire country had been bewildered and infuriated by a succession of daring safe-crackings. To make it worse, these jobs were, in nearly every instance, characterized by what appeared to be the most useless bloodshed. The perpetrators had seemed to go out of their way to use pistol and dirk.

Watchmen were found viciously stabbed; clerks, working late, had been murdered; and all these crimes had been committed in small communities and upon small dealers.

From chagrin, the public had quickly turned to indignation and storm; for the detective force had proved themselves absolutely powerless and inefficient.

Then had come Pawlinson.

He entered Washington headquarters one day, and quietly informed the chief there that he wanted to enter the detective service. Asked his credentials and former experience, he as quietly stated that by the end of that week he would bring in the entire gang that was puzzling them all.

And he did. Since which his place had been established, a place not a little enhanced by the very mysteriousness of him; a mysteriousness which I had heard he was at no pains to explain or eliminate.

“Well”—I concluded my soliloquy finally—“here I am mixed right up—and closely, too—with Pawlinson himself.”

But my duty was clear enough. I had told the chief I would wire him when I had located the man; and so, not only my own word, but his, as my chief, was out.

“That much I can do, anyway,” I grunted to myself, dropping the end of my second cigar into the cuspidor. “Beyond that we shall see what we shall see.”

With that I quitted the smoking room and sought my berth. As I lurched at a rolling gait down the aisle toward my number, for we were hitting up a lively clip, I noticed that all the berths had been made up by this time.

Then I seemed to recall that, in my abstraction, I had been vaguely conscious of a stop some half hour before; and I now reasoned that it was Stamford, Connecticut, or thereabout.

In the aisle I stripped off coat, vest, collar, tie, and shirt; then, just before ducking under the heavy curtain for the berth, and for no real reason that I yet know, I happened to sweep my eye up and down the car from one end to the other. And I could vow to this day that I saw the curtains of both number nine and number three drawn vigorously in toward the respective berths.

But really, down deep, I am of a care-free nature, and I was asleep in three shakes.

TO BE CONTINUED.

CAUGHT IN THE COILS.

The following adventure which befell Speke, the great explorer, forms one of the most thrilling episodes in a life full of perils and escapes. Captain Speke himself tells the tale.

It appears that he, with his comrade Grant, left the camp together one day to hunt game for their supper. Their first victim was a fine young buffalo cow.

Soon after, they had a prospect of still better fortune. An enormous elephant with particularly fine tusks was observed within range. Speke quickly brought his rifle up to his shoulder, took a careful aim, and fired.

A moment after, as he was watching for the effect of his shot, he heard a startled exclamation from the attendant negroes, and looked round.

To his horror, he saw a huge boa constrictor in the very act of darting down upon him from a branch overhead.

In less than a second—indeed, before he had time to stir a muscle to spring aside—the beast had shot out of the heavy foliage and caught him in a coil. Speke put out all his strength to get clear, and at the same instant, glancing round for help, saw Grant standing a few paces away, with rifle leveled.

“In a moment,” he continues, “I comprehended all. The huge serpent had struck the young buffalo cow, between which and him I had unluckily placed myself at the moment of firing upon the elephant. A most singular good fortune attended me, however, for, instead of being crushed into a mangled mass with the unfortunate cow, my left forearm had only been caught in between the buffalo’s body and a single fold of the constrictor. The limb lay just in front of the shoulder, at the root of the neck, and thus had a short bed of flesh, into which it was jammed, as it were, by the immense pressure of the serpent’s body, that was like iron in hardness.

“As I saw Grant about to shoot, a terror took possession of me; for if he refrained, I might possibly escape, after the boa released its folds from the dead cow; but should he fire and strike the reptile, it would, in its convulsions, crush or drag me to pieces.

“Even as the idea came to me, I beheld Grant pause. He appeared fully to comprehend all. He could see how I was situated, that I was still living, and that my delivery depended upon the will of the constrictor. We could see every one of each other’s faces, so close were we, and I would have shouted or spoken or even whispered to him, had I dared. But the boa’s head was reared within a few feet of mine, and a wink of an eyelid would perhaps settle my doom; so I stared, stared, stared, like a dead man at Grant and at the blacks.

“Presently the serpent began very gradually to relax his folds, and, after retightening them several times as the crushed buffalo quivered, he unwound one fold entirely. Then he paused.

“The next ironlike band was the one which held me a prisoner; and as I felt it, little by little, unclasping, my heart stood still with hope and fear. Perhaps, upon being free, the benumbed arm, uncontrolled by any will, might fall from the cushionlike bed in which it lay! And such a mishap might bring the spare fold around my neck or chest—and then farewell to the sources of the Nile!

“Oh, how hard, how desperately I struggled to command myself! I glanced at Grant, and saw him handling his rifle anxiously. I glanced at the negroes, and saw them still gazing, as though petrified with astonishment. I glanced at the serpent’s loathsome head, and saw its bright, deadly eyes watching for the least sign of life in its prey.

“Now, then, the reptile loosened its fold on my arm a hair’s-breadth, and now a little more, till half an inch of space separated my arm and its mottled skin. I could have whipped out my hand, but dared not take the risk. Atoms of time dragged themselves into ages, and a minute seemed eternity itself.

“The second fold was removed entirely, and the next one easing. Should I dash away now, or wait a more favorable moment? I decided upon the former: and with lightning speed I bounded away toward Grant, the crack of whose piece I heard at the next instant.

“For the first time in my life I was thoroughly overcome; and, sinking down, I remained in a semiunconscious state for several minutes. When I fully recovered, Grant and the overjoyed negroes held me up, and pointed out the boa, which was still writhing in its death agonies. I shuddered as I looked upon the effects of its tremendous dying strength. For yards around where it lay, grass and bushes and saplings, and, in fact, everything except the more fully grown trees were cut quite off, as though they had been trimmed by an immense scythe.

“The monster, when measured, was fifty-one feet two and a half inches in extreme length, while round the thickest portion of its body the girth was nearly three feet, thus proving, I believe, to be the largest serpent that was ever authentically heard of.”

POWERFUL BEGGARS.

The Chinese are more charitable than they have been given credit for. They give freely, especially on occasions of public or private rejoicing.

Beggars are numerous everywhere, and are organized into a sort of union or guild, with a master at the head, whose word is law to his mendicant subjects, and whose laws are as unchanging as those of the Medes and Persians. No man can be buried without a large share of “funeral baked meats” falling to the lot of the beggars’ guild.

No person is allowed to marry by this powerful union unless he or his friends pay a tribute to the king of beggars, in the shape of a big feast and a sum of money.

The last varies from one to five hundred dollars, according to the means of the tribute payer. The feast must consist of as good food as is served to the wedding guests.

On this the beggar king and his cabinet dine, with as much gusto, if not as much ceremony, as the Emperor of China when feasting his ministers. In almost every city you will find a beggars’ guild. The subjects of any one king vary in number, according to the size of the city. These kings of China’s submerged millions, whose territories consist of streets, gutters, bridges, and doorsteps, and whose subjects have been won for him by poverty, accident, vice, and disease, exercise a patriarchal sway and dispense a rough and primitive justice. The office is not hereditary, but elective, and tenable for life.

The beggar king lives in a house that is almost a palace, compared to the miserable shelter that his subjects have to be contented with. Not infrequently he grows rich from the tribute paid him by the people of the upper crust of society. He has powerful means of enforcing his demands. He has means of annoyance which the police are unable to put a stop to.

Suppose a man about to marry refuses to recognize the claim of the beggar king. His wedding procession will be blocked by thousands of lame, halt, and leprous beggars, who will ease their minds by imprecations such as are unfit for a bride to hear, and will be sure to bring ill luck on the married couple. Else this unseemly rabble will besiege the house of the unlucky bridegroom, and go through a similar performance. It is worth a large sum to be rid of such pests.

Even the magistrates, autocrats as they are in their own realms, respect the office of the beggar king, and never offend him if they can avoid it.

Ordinarily beggars go from house to house and from shop to shop with a bowl in hand, into which is poured the handful of rice, or is dropped the copper coin of charity. They are irrepressible, and will not take “no” for an answer.

QUEER THINGS TO EAT.

At the department of agriculture in Washington, hidden away in an obscure corner, is an odd sort of exhibit of queer foods eaten by out-of-the-way people. There is a loaf of bread made from the roasted leaves of a plant allied to the century plant. Another kind of bread is from a dough of juniper berries. These are relished by some tribes of Indians, while others manufacture cakes out of different kinds of bulbs. The prairie Indians relish a dish of wild turnips, which civilized people would not be likely to enjoy at all. In the great American desert the “screw beans,” which grow on mesquite bushes, are utilized for food. Soap berries furnish an agreeable diet for some savages in this country, while in California the copper-colored aborigines do not disdain the seeds of salt grass. Also in California the Digger Indians collect pine nuts, which are seeds of a certain species of pine—sometimes called “pinions”—by kindling fires against the trees, thus causing the nuts to fall out of the cones. At the same time a sweet gum exudes from the bark, serving the purpose of sugar. The seeds of gourds are consumed in the shape of mush by Indians in Arizona.

In addition to all these things, the exhibit referred to includes a jar of pulverized crickets, which are eaten in that form by the Indians of Oregon. They are roasted, as are likewise grasshoppers and even slugs. These delicacies are cooked in a pit, being arranged in alternate layers with hot stones. After being thus prepared, they are dried and ground to powder. They are mixed with pounded acorns or berries, the flour made in this way being kneaded into cakes and dried in the sun. The Assiniboines used a kind of seed to stop bleeding at the nose. Among other curious things used for food are acorns, sunflower seeds, grape seeds, flowers of cattails, moss from the spruce fir tree, and the blossoms of wild clover. The exhibit embraces a number of models representing grape seeds enormously enlarged. It is actually possible to tell the species of a grape by the shape of the seed. There is a jar of red willow bark which Indians mix with tobacco for the sake of economy. This, however, is only one of a thousand plants that are utilized in a similar fashion.

WHY HE WHISTLED.

Old Lady (to grocer’s boy)—“Don’t you know that it is very rude to whistle when dealing with a lady?”

Boy—“That’s what the boss told me to do, ma’am.”

“Told you to whistle?”

“Yes’m. He said if we ever sold you anything we’d have to whistle for our money.”