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52
ABBOTT'S MONTHLY

“Fit the cap on different heads, Doctor Rawlins. You may find it more amusing than--" she moved toward the door--"I do this intimate conversation. I find your moral guidance somewhat dull."
"And for my part, madam, I think I told you in a previous conversation that I find children rather amusing but in need of reprimanding at times. You note that should you endeavor to make a practice of entertaining the ship's officers in your cabin, we shall be obliged to place a steward in attendance to enforce the rules of the ship!"
She opened the door with a bang, and pointed out. It was a pity she had so little control over her feelings. But she was a sensualist, and beautiful, in a way, and young; what would you expect?
I bowed and walked out, and betook myself to Remus's cabin. He was sitting in his chair, and got up stiffly when I entered. I shut the door behind me. He still stood at attention.
"My boy," I said, "sit down. You have been idiotic enough for one day." I filled my pipe. He sat down, sheepish and defiant at the same time, and started to speak.
"Be quiet," I continued. "I am still your superior officer, and I am speaking. You know the rules of this company. You deserve to be sacked. If I report this to the Captain you will be under arrest in ten minutes, and if you get to sea again it will be before the mast. I suppose you've thought of that?"
"Yes, sir," he replied stiffly. "What are you waiting for?"
"I am waiting simply because I don't happen to be a young fool like yourself. She is beautiful woman, and she wears her clothes excellently; she is a master of suggestion, of unconcealed but opaque barriers, like quite a few other women; she has a delightful voice; and extremely unpleasant and reckless temper--"
"How do you know?"
"Don't you?"
"Yes, but--"
"You have had more opportunity--I suppose so; but you haven't seen so much, for gazing so hard. She has one thing, however, that alters all the virtues and graces I've credited her with, so far as you're concerned."
"Well!"
"She has more cunning, more brains, in her little finger than you have in your whole body."
"All I wish, Remus, is that you and she would go and live together for six solid months--in a place where murder is unpunished."
He looked at me almost carnivorously.
"Think you're damn funny, don't you?" he snarled.
"No!" I replied quietly. "Listen, my lad. I seem to remember rather distinctly a good many of your thoughts and you've expressed them to me over several years, here and there, on and off. You've told me a good deal about your ideas on responsibility, and duty to the service, and the beauty of things about you on the sea, the open sky, the feel of the bridge planks under your feet, authority--promotion--all the rest of it. Don't you remember, Remus?"
His face was troubled. Oh Youth! How easily does a storm becomes sunshine, the sun a cloud.
"None of us cares especially about your solitary individual self--except maybe me. But we all care about the way you do your job, the way you keep your part of the honor of the Merchant Marine. If you're dismissed, a good deal more happens than the mere personal discomfort to you. Do you ever think of that? you used to--up to five days ago."
"Yes," he said in a rather strained voice. I tried to hit, perhaps the only thing in him capable of overwhelming this passion of youth--the pride of youth in its undertakings. Deep in him, somewhere, was tradition--pride. He sat silent.
"Well, good-by, Remus," I said. "I'd think it over a bit, maybe. This girl's a bit too reckless for you, I'm thinking."
I passed out, I felt better. It was a long time since I'd read anyone a lecture.
I made a point of keeping my eye on him during the next twenty-four hours. She cut me dead, of course; nevertheless, maybe it was worth it, for I noticed Alden kept away from her remarkably. She was not lonely, of course, to the uninformed eye. It was still blowing to beat the band, rising if anything. She strode about "A" deck with one or two of the more seagoing passengers, plunging through showers of spray froward and staggering from side to side as we rolled. you may not suppose that fifty thousand tons can roll, but it can, actively.
She came down to dinner, beautifully undressed to my way of thinking. My table was one of the few which were full, and I didn't have much opportunity to watch her. I did notice one thing, however, and that was that Remus Alden came striding down the main stairway into the dining saloon just as she was leaving. He stopped and stared at her, face to face, kind of--hungrily, I suppose, poor devil. She returned his look in the coldest manner possible, and without a word passed on up the stairs.
The last full day of our run opened up as bad as you'd choose. It was blowing furiously from the east'd, raining torrents at times, visibility bad, and a high, crazy sea. Even we were taking a lot of water on the foredeck, and she was pitching into it to beat the band. I met a shower of icy spray which nearly laid my face open when I peered over the lower bridge after breakfast. I blessed the fact that next day would see us in Southampton waters, warm and tucked into our dock, if only for three days. Three days less of the infernal winter weather at least.
The sky was plain granite, and we were in just the spot for heavy weather--Ugh! I'm getting too old for the sea. Its strength never tires, but man's must. I know the sea too well to be completely the doctor, and stay below in the warm lounges, and talk, and drink, and read. It's in my blood; I have to go on deck and watch it, be in it, feel the tear of the gale, for I love even its cruelty.
About noon it was thicker than ever, and the Captain slowed her up to about twelve knots, and ordered all passengers to remain below deck. We smashed in a round dozen of the glass ports in the dining saloon--they're an inch and a half thick, by the way; and they told me that two boats had been smashed up on the boat deck.
About sunset the rain cleared up a little, and the Captain shoved her up to full speed again. It was damned uncomfortable. If I hadn't known the ship I'd have ex-
(Continued on page 81)

HEIRS of the STORM
A Story of Love and Happiness Which Came to Them After Being Buffeted About by the Flood and Tempest of a Tropical Storm in the Everglades of Florida
By WILLIAM EDWARD KOHLBLATZ

LEROY SUMMERS, immaculate as ever, in white flannels, leisurely strolled across the veranda of the Gulf Coast Hotel and followed the shelled path that meandered through the bevy of gay colored parasols. His air was one of the slightly affected indifference. It added a bit to his swagger, but detracted none from his charm.
Shirley Essington, in cool, though simple skirt and middy, sat with her back to the pathway, but kept a sharp watch upon it through the corners of her eyes. Her slender, dainty fingers frisked nervously with a handkerchief in her lap. In her deep brown eyes was the light of joyous anticipation. When the deft footsteps drew near her heart fluttered wildly. She could hardly wait to see him peer around the edge of the parasol. But he did not! His airy tread continued down the shelled pathway. She saw him puffing, nonchalantly, at his cigarette. Strangely, though, he was headed toward the links with a polished oar beneath his arm.
Shirley could not believe her own senses; then she grew panicky.  Surely, Lee must know she would wait there again for him this morning.  Certainly he wanted to see her on this morning of all mornings.  For was she not going to go out of his life perhaps-forever?  Shirley shuddered.  Leroy said he loved her, and she believed him.  She believed in him, had faith in Leroy Summers in spite of what a gay deceiver the gossipy old matrons would have him branded.  Somehow, she knew not why, but she felt that Leroy Summers was really in love with her. 

PERHAPS she had said too much?  Maybe she should not have told Lee that today she was to be joined by, and tomorrow wedded to the man to whom her heart and hand was pledged at the earnest request of her dying father.  That news must have been too much for him.  Why had she told?  It was best!  But why must she hurt the darling big boy who had inflamed her life with so many roseate dreams?  Even though they were only fleeting fancies Lee had given with a full heart.  He had brought her more happiness during the week of her stay on the gulf coast than she had known in her life.  
    Was it possible that Leroy Summers, the ardent lover of only yesterday, could be giving her the cold shoulder?
    Shirley had already torn the border of her handkerchief into shreds and with an end poised between her teeth she was unwittingly about to yank either the handkerchief in two, or her pretty teeth out.  Just at that moment, as if conscious of her predicament, the debonair Leroy Summers flicked away his cigarette and faced about squarely, just a dozen feet from Shirley.
    She writhed and colored deeply.  His sensitive lips spread into an infectious smile.  One moment Shirley was pounding against the impulse to laugh with him and the next she was pounding her little fists against his sinewy breast.  He had her in his arms. 
     "Silly little darling," he was saying in his teasing virile drawl, "Thought I could forget you, huh?  Own it!  Didn't you?"
     "Leroy Summers-" Shirley pro-
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Inebriated with love, as the crooning murmurs ever showed, the passengers of that singular canoe took little note or interest in the mysteries or dangers about them. 
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Transcription Notes:
Includes description of image and page number 53