The Vagrant Duke | Page 9

an Englishman's point of
view. He had much to learn, and he invented a tale of his fortunes
which let him into their con-* fidences, especially into that of Jim
Coast, waiter like himself, whose bunk adjoined his own. Jim Coast
was a citizen of the world, inured to privation under many flags. He had
been born in New Jersey, U. S. A., of decent people, had worked in the
cranberry bogs, farmed in Pennsylvania, "punched" cattle in Wyoming,
"prospected" in the Southwest, looted ranches in Mexico, fought
against Diaz and again with the insurgents in Venezuela, worked on
cattle-ships and so, by easy stages, had drifted across the breadth of
Europe living by his wits at the expense of the credulous and the
unwary. And now, for the first time in many years, he was going
home--though just what that meant he did not know. He had missed
great fortune twice--"by the skin of his teeth," as he picturesquely

described it, once in a mine in Arizona and again in a land-deal in the
Argentine. There were reasons why he hadn't dared to return to the
United States before. He was a man with a grievance, but, however free
in his confidences in other respects, gave the interested Peter no inkling
as to what that grievance was.
No more curious acquaintanceship could possibly be imagined, but
privation, like politics, makes strange bedfellows, and, from tolerance
and amusement, Pete, as the other called him, found himself yielding,
without stint, to the fantastic spell of Jim Coast's multifarious
attractions. He seemed to have no doubts as to the possibility of making
a living in America and referred darkly to possible "coups" that would
net a fortune. He was an agreeable villain, not above mischief to gain
his ends, and Peter, who cherished an ideal, made sure that, once safe
ashore, it would be best if they parted company. But he didn't tell Jim
Coast so, for the conversational benefits he derived from that
gentleman's acquaintance were a liberal education.
We are admonished that they are blessed who just stand and wait, and
Peter Nichols, three days out of New York harbor, found himself the
possessor of forty dollars in tips from the voyage with sixty dollars
coming to him as wages--not so bad for a first venture upon the high
seas of industry. It was the first real money he had ever made in his life
and he was proud of it, jingling it contentedly in his pockets and
rubbing the bills luxuriously one against the other. But his plans
required more than this, for he had read enough to know that in the
United States one is often taken at one's own estimate, and that if he
wasn't to find a job as a ditch-digger, he must make a good appearance.
And so it was now time to make use of the one Grand Ducal possession
remaining to him, a gold ring -set with a gorgeous ruby that had once
belonged to his father. This ring he had always worn and had removed
from his finger at Ushan, in the fear that its magnificence might betray
him. He had kept it carefully tied about his neck in a bag on a bit of
string and had of course not even shown it to Jim Coast who might
have deemed it an excuse to sever their strange friendship.
Through the Head Steward he managed a message to Captain Armitage

and was bidden to the officer's cabin, where he explained the object of
his visit, exhibited his treasure and estimated its value.
The Captain opened his eyes a bit wider as he gazed into the sanguine
depths of the stone.
"If I didn't know something of your history, Nichols," he said with a
wink, "I might think you'd been looting the strong box of the Sultan of
Turkey. Pigeon's blood and as big as my thumb nail! You want to sell
it?"
"I need capital."
"What do you want for it?"
"It's worth a thousand pounds of English money. Perhaps more, I don't
know. I'll take what I can get."
"I see. You're afraid to negotiate the sale ashore?"
"Exactly. I'd be arrested."
"And you don't want explanations. H-m--leave it with me over night.
I'll see the Purser. He'll know."
"Thanks."
The Captain offered the waiter in the shell-jacket the hospitality of his
cabin, but Peter Nichols thanked him gratefully and withdrew.
The result of this arrangement was that the ruby ring changed owners.
The Purser bought it for two thousand in cash. He knew a good thing
when he saw it. But Peter Nichols was satisfied.
CHAPTER II
NEW YORK
THE Duke-errant had prepared himself for the first glimpse of the

battlements of lower New York, but as the Bermudian came up
the bay