Parrot Co. | Page 8

by an
Englishman, he answered it courteously, and subsided. He had been
snubbed too many times not to have learned this lesson. It never
entered his head that the introduction might have been brought about
by the girl's interest. He was too mortally shy of women to conceive of
such a possibility. So his gratitude was extended to the purser, who, on
his side, regretted his good-natured recommendations of the previous
hour.
When Elsa learned that the man at her side was to proceed to Rangoon,
she ceased to ask him any more questions. She preferred to read her
books slowly. Once, while he was engaging the purser, her glance ran
over his clothes. She instantly berated her impulsive criticism as a bit
of downright caddishness. The lapels of the coat were shiny, the sleeves
were short, there was a pucker across the shoulders; the winged-collar
gave evidence of having gone to the native laundry once too often; the
studs in the shirt-bosom were of the cheapest mother-of-pearl, and the
cuff-buttons, ordinary rupee silver. The ensemble suggested that since
the purchase of these habiliments of civilization the man had grown,
expanded.
Immediately after dinner she retired to her state-room, conscious that
her balance needed readjusting. She had heard and read much lore
concerning reincarnation, skeptically; yet here, within call of her voice,
was Arthur, not the shadow of a substance, but Arthur, shorn of his
elegance, his soft lazy voice, his half-dreaming eyes, his charming
indolence. Why should this man's path cross hers, out of all the millions
that ran parallel?
She opened her window and looked up at the stars again. She saw one
fall, describe an arc and vanish. She wondered what this man had done
to put him beyond the pale; for few white men remained in Asia from
choice. She had her ideas of what a rascal should be; but Warrington
agreed in no essential. It was not possible that dishonor lurked behind
those frank blue eyes. She turned from the window, impatiently, and
stared at one of her kit-bags. Suddenly she knelt down and threw it
open, delved among the soft fabrics and silks and produced a

photograph. She had not glanced at it during all these weeks. There had
been a purpose back of this apparent neglect. The very thing she
dreaded happened. Her pulse beat on, evenly, unstirred. She was a
failure.
In the photograph the man's beard was trimmed Valois; the beard of the
man who had sat next to her at dinner had grown freely and naturally,
full. Such a beard was out of fashion, save among country doctors. It
signified carelessness, indifference, or a full life wherein the niceties of
the razor had of necessity been ignored. Keenly she searched the
familiar likeness. What an amazing freak of nature! It was unreal. She
tossed the photograph back into the kit-bag, bewildered, uneasy.
Meantime Warrington followed the purser into his office. "I haven't
paid for my stateroom yet," he said.
"I'll make it out at once. Rangoon, I understand?"
"Yes. But I'm in a difficulty. I have nothing in change but two rupees."
The purser froze visibly. The tale was trite in his ears.
"But I fancy I've rather good security to offer," went on Warrington
coolly. He drew from his wallet a folded slip of paper and spread it out.
The purser stared at it, enchanted. Warrington stared down at the purser,
equally enchanted.
"By Jove!" the former gasped finally. "And so you're the chap who's
been holding up the oil syndicate all these months? And you're the chap
who made them come to this bally landing three days ago?"
"I'm the chap."
It was altogether a new purser who looked up. "Twenty thousand
pounds about, and only two rupees in your pocket! Well, well; it takes
the East to bowl a man over like this. A certified check on the Bank of
Burma needs no further recommendation. In the words of your

countrymen, go as far as you like. You can pay me in Rangoon. Your
boy takes deck-passage?"
"Yes," returning the check to the wallet.
"Smoke?"
"Shouldn't mind. Thanks."
"Now, sit down and spin the yarn. It must be jolly interesting."
"I'll admit that it has been a tough struggle; but I knew that I had the oil.
Been flat broke for months. Had to borrow my boy's savings for food
and shelter. Well, this is the way it runs." Warrington told it simply, as
if it were a great joke.
"Rippin'! By Jove, you Americans are hard customers to put over. I
suppose you'll be setting out for the States at once?" with a curious
glance.
"I haven't made any plans yet," eying the cheroot thoughtfully.
"I see." The purser nodded. It was not difficult to understand. "Well,
good