a visit to an unsentimental land whose traditions, if any were cherished at all, went back no farther than yesterday and were to be succeeded by fresh ones tomorrow. At least, such was the belief of the Latin who still dozed superciliously in the glory of his long-dead ancestors. Not having Paris, or London, or Madrid, or Rome as the Mecca of his dreams, his pilgrimage now carried him to the infidel realities of the North,--to Washington, New York, New Orleans, Newport and Atlantic City! He had the money for travel, so why stay at home? He had the money to waste, so why not dissipate? He had the thirst for sin, so why famish?
There were lovely women on board, and children with and without the golden spoon; there were men whose names were known on both sides of the Atlantic and whose reputations for integrity, sagacity, intellect, and,--it must be confessed,--corruptness, (with the author's apology for the inclusion); doughty but dogmatic university men who had penetrated the wildernesses as naturalists, entomologists, mineralogists, archaeologists, explorers; sportsmen who had forsaken the lion, rhinoceros, hartebeest and elephant of Africa for the jaguar, cougar, armadillo and anteater of South America; soldiers of fortune whose gods had lured them into the comparative safety of South American revolutions; miners, stock buyers and raisers, profiteersmen, diplomats, priests, preachers, gamblers, smugglers and thieves; others who had gone out for the Allies to buy horses, beeves, grain, metal, chemicals, manganese and men; financiers, merchants, lawyers, writers, musicians, doctors, dentists, architects; gentiles and Jews, Protestants and Catholics, skeptics and infidels,--in short, good men, bad men, beggar men, thieves.
The world will readily recall such names and personalities as these: Abel T. Landover, the great New York banker; Peter Snipe, the novelist; Solomon Nicklestick, the junior member in the firm of Winkelwein & Nicklestick, importers of hides, etc., Ninth Avenue, New York; Moses Block, importer of rubber; James January Jones, of San Francisco, promoter and financier; Randolph Fitts, of Boston, the well-known architect; Percy Knapendyke, the celebrated naturalist; Michael O'Malley Malone, of the law firm of Eads, Blixton, Solomon, Carlson, Vecchiavalli, Revitsky, Perkins & Malone, New York; William Spinney, of the Chicago Police force, (and his prisoner, "Soapy" Shay, diamond thief); Denby Flattner, the taxidermist; Morris Shine, the motion picture magnate; Madame Careni-Amori, soprano from the Royal Opera, Rome; Signer Joseppi, the new tenor, described as the logical successor to the great Caruso; Madame Obosky and three lesser figures in the Russian Ballet, who were coming to the United States to head a long-heralded tour, "by special arrangement with the Czar"; Buck Chizler, the famous jockey,--and so on.
These were the names most conspicuously displayed by the newspapers during the anxious, watchful days and weeks that succeeded the sailing of the Doraine from the port in the Tropic of Capricorn.
Dozens of cities in the United States were represented by one or more persons on board the Doraine, travellers of both sexes who, being denied the privilege of a customary dash to Europe for the annual holiday, resolved not to be deprived of their right to wander, nor the right to return when they felt inclined. Whilom, defiant rovers in search of change, they scoffed at conditions and went their way regardless of the peril that stalked the seas. In the main they were money-spending, time-dragging charges against the resources of a harassed, bewildered government, claiming protection in return for arrogance.
Far to the south, off the Falkland Islands, at the bottom of the sea, lay the battered hulls of what ware supposed to be the last of the German fighting-ships in South Atlantic waters. Report had it, however, that several well-armed cruisers had either escaped the hurricane of shells from the British warships, or had been detached from the squadron before the encounter took place. In any event, no vessel left a South American port without maintaining a sharp lookout for prowling survivors of the vanquished fleet, and no passenger went aboard who did not experience the thrill of a hazardous undertaking. The ever-present and ever-ready individual with official information from sources that could not be questioned, travelled with remarkable regularity on each and every craft that ventured out upon the Hun-infested waters. In the smoke-room the invariable word went round that raiders were sinking everything in sight. Every ship that sailed had on board at least one individual who claimed to have been chased on a former voyage by a blockade-breaker,--(according to the most reliable reports, the Germans were slipping warships through the vaunted British net with the most astounding ease and frequency,)--and there was no one with the hardihood or desire to question his veracity; indeed, it was something of a joy to believe him, for was he not a living and potential document to prove that the merchant marine could
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