The Stowaway Girl

The Stowaway Girl, by Louis
Tracy

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Title: The Stowaway Girl
Author: Louis Tracy
Illustrator: Nesbit Benson
Release Date: October 14, 2006 [EBook #19539]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE
STOWAWAY GIRL ***

Produced by Al Haines

[Frontispiece: Hosier tightened a protecting arm around her waist]

THE STOWAWAY GIRL
By
LOUIS TRACY

AUTHOR OF
THE WINGS OF THE MORNING, SON OF THE IMMORTALS,
CYNTHIA'S CHAUFFEUR, THE MESSAGE, THE SILENT
BARRIER, ETC.

ILLUSTRATIONS BY
NESBIT BENSON

NEW YORK
GROSSET & DUNLAP
PUBLISHERS

Copyright, 1909, 1912,
By EDWARD J. CLODE

CONTENTS
CHAPTER
I.

THE "ANDROMEDA" II. WHEREIN THE "ANDROMEDA"
BEGINS HER VOYAGE III. WHEREIN THE "ANDROMEDA"
NEARS THE END OF HER VOYAGE IV. SHOWING WHAT
BECAME OF THE "ANDROMEDA" V. THE REFUGEES VI.
BETWEEN THE BRAZILIAN DEVIL AND THE DEEP ATLANTIC
VII. CROSS PURPOSES VIII. THE RIGOR OF THE GAME IX.
WHEREIN CERTAIN PEOPLE MEET UNEXPECTEDLY X. ON
THE HIGH SEAS XI. A LIVELY MORNING IN EXCHANGE
BUILDINGS XII. THE LURE OF GOLD XIII. THE NEW ERA XIV.
CARMELA XV. SHOWING HOW BRAZIL CHOSE HER
PRESIDENT XVI. WHEREIN THE PRESIDENT PRESIDES

ILLUSTRATIONS
Hosier tightened a protective arm around her waist . . . Frontispiece
"Is that the Southern Cross?"
"How did I come here?"
"Well, gimme your 'and on it"
A withering volley crashed through the window

THE STOWAWAY
CHAPTER I
THE "ANDROMEDA"
"Marry Mr. Bulmer! That horrid old man! Uncle, what are you
saying?"
The girl sprang to her feet as if she were some timid creature of the
wild aroused from sylvan broodings by knowledge of imminent danger.

In her terror, she upset the three wineglasses that formed part of the
display beside each couvert on the luncheon table. One, rose-tinted and
ornate, crashed to the floor, and the noise seemed to irritate the owner
of Linden House more than his niece's shrill terror.
"No need to bust up our best set of 'ock glasses just because I 'appen to
mention owd Dickey Bulmer," he growled.
The color startled so suddenly out of the girl's face began to return. Her
eyes lost their dilation of fear. Somehow, the comment on the broken
glass seemed to deprive "owd Dickey Bulmer's" personality of its real
menace.
"I'm sorry," she said, and stooped to pick up the fragments scattered
over the carpet.
"Leave that alone," came the sharp order. "So long as I've the brass to
pay for 'em, there's plenty more where that kem from, an' in any case,
it's the 'ousemaid's job. Leave it alone, I tell you! An' sit down. It's 'igh
time you an' me 'ad a straight talk, an' I can't do wi' folk bouncin' about
like an injia-rubber ball when I've got things to say to 'em."
He stretched a fat hand toward a mahogany cigar-box, affected to
choose a cigar with deliberative crackling, hacked at the selection with
a fruit knife, and dropped the severed end into an unused finger-bowl;
then he struck a match, and puffed furiously until a rim of white ash
tipped the brown. This achieved, he helped himself to the port. Though
he carefully avoided glancing at his companion, he knew quite well that
she had drawn a chair to the opposite end of the table, and was looking
at him intently; her chin was propped on her clenched hands; the skin
on her white forehead was puckered into nervous lines; her lips,
pressed close, had lost their Cupid's bow that seemed ever ready to
bend into a smile. Meanwhile, the man who had caused these signs of
distress gulped down some of the wine, held the glass up to the light as
a tribute to the excellence of its contents, darted his tongue several
times in and out between his teeth, smacked his lips, replaced the cigar
in his mouth, and leaned back in his chair until it creaked.

Iris Yorke was accustomed to this ritual; she gave it the unobservant
tolerance good breeding extends to the commonplace. But to-day, for
the first time during the two years that had sped so happily since she
came back to Linden House from a Brussels pension, she found herself,
even in her present trouble, wondering how it was possible that David
Verity could be her mother's brother. This coarse-mannered hog of a
man, brother to the sweet-voiced, tender-hearted gentlewoman whose
gracious wraith was left undimmed in the girl's memory by the lapse of
years--it would