Heppner gazette-times., March 01, 1928, Page PAGE THREE, Image 3

HEPPNER GAZETTE TIMES, HEPPNER, OREGON, THURSDAY, MARCH 1, 1928.
PAGE THREE
RED HAIR
AND
BLUE SEA
STANLEY R. OSBORN
ILLUSTRATIONS BY HENRY JAY LEE
COPYRIGHT BY CHARLES SOUBNBRS
' WHAT HAPPENED BEFORE
Palmyra Tree and her parents, with
Palmyra's two suitors, Van Buren Rin
ger and John Thurston and some other
irlends, are cruising on the Yacht Rain
bow. Palmyra is startled by seeing a hand
thrust in through the port of hre cabin,
makes a secret Investigation and dis
covers a stowaway a man bo mild in
appearance that she is disappointed
and tells him so. He commands her to
glance at the door. She obeys and sees
a huge, fierce, copper-hued man with a
ten-inch knife held between grinning
lips. Now read on:
CHAPTER II
Next morning Mrs. Crawford and
her guests were gathered In lee of
the deckhouse, bundled In their
rugs.
The sun, only at Intervals, had
been blinking through, bringing a
touch of warmth to the surface of
the sea, charming the spreading
canvas to life Aa, presently, Pal
myra roused from her preoccupa
tion to join the others in a laugh,
the luminary glanced down again
and printed on the deck, black and
sharp-edged, the lifting shadows of
the sails.
Such a shade lay across the girl's
face. When the Rainbow rose to a
surge, the shadow moved, as a cur
tain up, and the sunbeam caught
In turn and Illuminated perfect
teeth, dimples, eyes that danced
with fun; set a-flame the crown of
bright hair, her most noticeable en
dowment But soon she was somber again.
She had been shaken by that fierce
visage leaping out at her from the
dark.
She should have suspected a sec
ond presence. One glance at Burke's
hand, gloved though It was, should
have sufficed. It was small, pudgy,
never the thick sinewy paw that
had fastened upon the cabin port
Her wits about her, she should have
mistrusted Burke's song; not have
waited to be told afterwards that
he was chanting: "Silent, go, stand
against the door, knife in teeth, and
look trrlfllc."
At this point the shadow of the
sail came swooping down again
across Palmyra's eyes and she
awoke to find that Mrs. Durley, the
stewardess, was regarding her with
an amused and curious expression.
The girl flushed guiltily.
Mrs. Durley stepped forward, hes
itated, held' out a card tray. "A
gentleman to see you, Miss Tree,"
she announced.
"A gentleman to see Miss Tree?"
Inquired Mrs. Crawford in amused
acceptance of the play. "Why, how
unexpected."
"Airplane or sea horse?" ques
tioned Van.
At this moment she caught sight
of the man himself, standing In the
alley between the house and the
rail.
"Mrs. Crawford," she introduced,
"this Is Mr. Burke, the well-known
pirate. Will be pleased, yo ho ho,
to demonstrate walking the plank.
I'm sure if you could see him scut
tle a ship, you'd feel we'd been
greatly distinguished.
By daylight the pirate's face had
lost its cherubic aspect Still sin
gularly undeveloped as to line and
feature, there was now more visibly
upon It a maturity of significance
that could only have been stamped
by dissipation, hardship and dan
ger, or some more violent tempera
mental urge than, at first view,
could have been suspected.
But If Burke's face had gained
In significance, his figure had not.
Moreover, he now verged on the
pathetic, shaking with cold. , Pal
myra recollected, with a stab of
pity, that brown creature down be
lew. The girl started, impulsively, to
rise, then sank back again. She
had seen the steward below, a short
time past, overhauling blankets, a
reserve supply for the men forward.
If only she could manage to get one
or two of these coverings. . . .
Compassion urged the deed. But
she was afraid.
Presently, however, a well-authen
ticated chin settled into place and
two Hps grew arbitrary. She arose,
excused herself, and marched down
the companionway. Yes, the blan
kets were still there. She snatched
two, secured her torch and reached
the bulkhead door, unchallenged
She switched on the torch, forced
herself forward. Then, after a mo
ment's hesitation: "Here you
Are you cold? I have two blankets."
She stood, waiting, listening. She
could feel the darkness move with
unseen menace. But the dead Bl-
lence of that prisoned space gave I
no sound of life.
She might have swept the ray
into all the corners, but she hesi
tated to repeat the vision of the
night before. Rather, she held the
blnakets up invitingly and, In si
lence, turned the jet of light upon
them. For almost a minute she
waited thus. Then, suddenly, with
out warning preliminary of sound,
there appeared within the outer
circle of light the ends of four great
massive square fingers.
Almost, the girl sprang back,
cried out In panic.
A moment the fingers paused.
Then they came thrusting toward
her from the dark. For a flash It
seemed that It must be herself they
meant to seize. Then they closed
' upon the blankets, rested there an
Instant, withdrew with their prize
again Into the night whence they
had come.
But, brief aa the Interval, It had
been enough. Here at last was the
hand that had been sent through
the port: square, sinewy, brown;
adorned even to the gfeatgrand
mother mitts.
And only now did she belatedly
realize that these mitts were not
of silk, but of tattooer's Ink.
When the girl came on deck next
morning there the savage sat, cross-
legged on the fore-hatch, huddled
under his blankets In the sun.
As Palmyra and her parents ap
peared, Ponape Burke was explain
ing that the remote Intelligence at
his feet knew no word of any white
man's language.
If the savage recognized her she
was unable to note any change in
his countenance. In deed, she saw
that this copper mask would sel
dom, if ever, yield to the civilized
eye any useful Indication of the
mood within.
Ponape Burke, showman, had
seized a double handful of the bush
of hair on the native head, and
was saying:
TIsD't so much that hes got
hair," Burke was saying, "as that
his hair ain't black, as you'd ex
pect, but a pretty gar species o'
tan. Which, la-adies and gents, is
South Sea beauty-parlor stuff."
"Tls dee-lightfully sanitary, la
dies," the s bowman added, "and
colors your hair up any shade o'
blond y'like. But " he tittered
and glanced audaciously at Miss
Tree's own head "the very foxiest
and most envied hue some of 'em
succeeds in getting up is a real or
angey near-red."
Van laughed. Oh, admirable,
he cried. "An admirable effect. And
never till the moment did I sus
pect. . . . Why, Palm Tree. . . ."
Excuse me, miss, Ponape Burke
said, "but didn't I hear this gent
a-calllng you 'Palm-tree'?"
She assented.
"But what, what kind of a joke"
"It isn't a joke," she affirmed, "My
family name Is Tree and " she
glanced amusedly at Constance
my given name is Palm."
The stowaway stared, grinned, re
peated the name. He turned to his
savage, spoke animatedly, nodded
his head toward her. The brown
man's eyes sought the girl's face
once more and she felt sure he had,
in some obscure way, been moved.
There was certainly a something
new upon that strange countenance.
As the savage sat upon the hatch,
corner of blanket touched the
teakwood. When he reached down
to rescue the fabric his thick right
fore arm shot out from cover and
so remained. The girl became
aware of a line of blue-black mark
ing along the inner side of this arm.
She discovered with surprise that
these tattooinga were letters her
own alphabet At first she did not
catch the word because two of its
symbols were upside down.
"Why," she cried impulsively,
what is that he has tattooed on
his arm?' '
Here the pirate took up the story
of his brown companion's name.
If it had been a pop bottle that
the fat horizon-buster (white man)
flune into the bird's nest fern be
side the spring, 'this lion of a man
would not be here. Far away on
some somnolent speck of coral he
would be drowsing through the
years; Ignorant as to white men's
ways, safe forever from the ques
tionable leadership of Ponape
Burke; never to touch and cross the
life course of Miss Palmyra Tree of
Boston. But It was not a pop
bottle that the fat horizon-buster
flung Into the bird's nest fern. It
was a bottle which had held olives.
There, as the olive bottle had fall
en, the Island mother, her babe up
on her hip, found it She had held
the empty bottle up before the eyes
of the naked brown baby that he
might admire the bright red and
green of its lithograph. She had
tried to make out the Inscription
upon it
ONYX BRAND
The Hubbard Extra-Choice
QUEEN
OLIVE
The print was as oddly familiar,
yet baming unreadable, as a sen
tence in Russian would have been
to Palmyra. For In the mother's
alphabet there were but fourteen
letters, containing eleven or our
consonants.
As her glance fell .upon the word
"Olive, she smiled. Here was
combination that spelled ; every let
ter as familiar as if It had been
the name of her own village.
"Behold, chiefly son," she had
cried to the baby on her hip; "here
Is a so-island word 'O-l-l-v-e.
What to It, think you, la a mean
ing? And set forth upon a horlzon-
bustcr's strong-water bottle (to her
all bottles meant liquor)."
Presently the mother's face had
lighted with Inspiration. Here, un
doubtedly among warriors, was the
great word. And here, upon her
hip, was the greatest man alive,
What better, then, than this for a
name ?
And so it waa the brown baby.
to be know forever to all white
men as "Olive," and to his South
Sea , kinsmen, according to their
reading of its letters, as "O-lee-vay."
Burke's glance took In the silent
motionless mass of man on ' the
hatch with prldeful ownership.
Then he broke again Into his oddly
unadult mirth. "Look at him now,'
he cried. "Look at hlin. Mad clear
through."
They turned their smiling eyes
upon the brown man.
"Mad clear through," repeated his
master, "Since Miss Tree pointed
to his arm we all been laughing a
lot. And he thinks it s at him.'
Later in the day Palmyra found
her pirates alone.
They sat side by side, gripping
stolidly the khaki fabric that strug
gled, flapping to the wind behind
thoir backs.
"Speaking o' this big brute,"
Burke began, Indicating Olive; "he
don't do nothing now but ask ques
tions about you."
The girl did not know whether to
like that or not.
To begin with, said Burke, It was
SONS
her courage. She hadn't squawked
at the hand in the port nor the face
under the spotlight. And she'd come
down with blankets when a brown
being was In misery with cold.
As regarded the hand: The stow
aways, precariously hidden on deck
in a boat, had taken the first chance
to sneak below. Burke had got to
cover, but a seaman, unexpectedly
starting that way, would have
caught Olive. The islander had
slipped overside at that point, dan
gling from a stanchion, only his
hands visible. He had put one
down to the port, intending to hang
trailing from that if the sailor came
near. A roll of the yacht thrust his
forearm through. Then the seaman
had turned away and Olive lifted
himself back to deck.
But far more important than Pal
myra Tree s courage and kindness
was her name. To the white man
it had seemed interesting, to the
brown, astonishing.
"In the low islands," said Burke,
'the palmtree's the most important
thing they got Couldn't live with
out it a day."
Here, aside from fish, there was
often no food except the pandanus
scorned elsewhere and the cocoa-
nut. The nuts were eaten at every
meal; cooked or raw, green, ripe,
germinated. For all the accessories
of life, the palm could be made, If
need were, to furnish the material.
And she was named Palm tree!
"But ,lady," Burke persisted,
taln't the things I've mentioned
not even yer name which counts
so much aa " he paused calculat
ingly "as that hair o' yours, that
red hair."
She was again annoyed, but de
cided to laugh.
Burke was silent for an interval,
hia oddly undeveloped features
rather absurd in their maturity of
thought
I suppose, he began at last, "y
haven't no idea how a Mary like
you hits us islanders, kanaka or
white?"
"Oh," he added with a shrugging
gesture acquired from the natives,
you d never guess never. He
hesitated in a diffidence strange to
his nature. "But think, miss. Here
we are, maybe ten, fifteen years
never seeing any woman's face ex
cept these silly brown critters or
perhaps the wife o' some mission
ary or trader, here too long sick
ly, pale, done for. And then, of a
sudden, along you cornea; a a vis
ion. ...
He stammered in his effort to find
words that should do justice to his
sentiment, but not offend.
All pink and white, peaches and
cream," he went on recklessly; "a
living being as beautiful as a paint
ed picture. I ain't meaning no dia
respect. But that Miss Tree, as I
reckon you'll understand, just fair
knocks us, white and brown alike,
dead in a row."
"But do you really believe Palm
Tree's pirate has been in gun bat
tles and all that?" Contance Craw
ford was asking.
Palmyra now spoke. "It's non
sense to take that little man ser
iously," she affirmed.
There was a general assent.
"When he snys such things," she
added, "it's like hearing a baby
swear; awful, and you ought to be
shocked, but at the same time com
ic. I delight in his efforts to make
himself out something brigandish."
John Thurston had not joined in
the accord. As he stood holding to
the main shrouds, the big muscles
of arm and shoulder swelling un
der his coat, he was never quite the
yachtsman on an Idle cruise; always
intangibly, a something of the con
struction engineer on his way to the
Philippines to take charge of gov
ernment work the Rainbow to put
him aboard a transport at Honolu
lu, or, possible, if time permitted,
at Guam,
"You're probably right about
Burke," he said presently. "But did
you ever think how thoroughly
we're bound down by the old con
ventional nonsenae in character
reading phrenology and all that?
A stripling develops a big quare
jaw. Presto we recognize a de
termined character, a human bull
dog. Really, it's only more bone in
hla jaw. And if he has a broad
high forehead . , ."
"Solid ivory again," said Van.
"Palm's pirate couldn't be furth
er from our fixed idea of a cut
throat: fierce mouatachios, hawk
nose, deep-set, piercing, evil eyes.
Yet in real life your cold-blooded,
murdering brute is quite as likely
to be some effeminate youth sell
ing soda water with a lisp. . ."
"Never," said Van, "did I have
soda water with a lisp,"
Palmyra had been wondering why
everyone on board everyone ex
cept Conatance wanted her to mar
ry Van. She saw that they all did,
and she felt that their reasons must
be "good. Constance, of course, said
it was only ancestors. The Tree
family worshipped the family tree.
"And Van," Constance had said com
mercially, "has the finest line of an
cestors put out by any house in
America." It was nothing in Van
per8onally, she had added. "John
does things. But Van only is things."
The girl got up restlessly and
stood at the rail gazing out over the
sunset sea. Aa John Thurston went
on to amplify his thought regard
ing Burke she glanced over her
shoulder to scoff.
"I could chase your bad man over
the deck with a feather duster."
"I'm only windjamming, of
course," Thurston laughed. "I don't
doubt our stowaway's a little man,
sufficiently blunt as to hia moral
perceptions, but quite harmless,
making himaelf tfie hero of every
gory story he picks up, eager to pose
as a deepsea bad man. But still
During this idle chatter the girl
had felt, growing with every mo
ment a fuller perception of herself
aboard this yacht Never until now
had she had a complete realization
of the Intimacy of this cruise with
Van and John; of the Incredible
nearness of these two to her. She
had been, all at once, appalled. Thus
they would go on through every
waking hour, unescapable in their
demand upon her love.
She had had a suffocating sense
that never, for one instant could
Cream
Tobacco
a, The
ffLUCmv Crop
llVSTRIKE) J J .
Lucky
Strikes
.1
are tne
Favorite
Brand of Paul Whiteman
"It was but recently, when I started to act as master o)
ceremonies with my band at theParamountTheatre,that
I realized how vital perfect voice condition was to a
performer. 1 have always been a consistent smoker
and fortunately, Lucky Strikes ivere my favorite brand.
I like their toasted flavor and, best of all, I can smoke
as often as I like, without fear of irritating my voice,
which is becoming a great f)
asset in my work,"
Its toasted
No Throat Irritation -No Cough.
she protect herself from them and
their problem. Anr then, as an in
spiration, it had come to her that
Ponape Burke should be her ref
uge. Until she was sure sure about
the two oh, so sure! she could
always fly to him. She'd demand
her pirate's stories, and force Van
and John to sit and listen, no mat
ter how rebellious.
She had a sudden curiosity con
cerning this Ponape Burke in her
new dependence upon him. She was
eager to look at him. And she knew
he would be perched upon the fore
hatch, his brown man as ever at
hla elbow, silent, motionless, a pa
gan joss.
She whirled about to gaze, then
caught her breath in dismay.
Unexpectedly, startlingly, the sav
age, unbeknown to any one of them
all, had materialized himself here,
was sitting almost within their cir
cle. And his eyes were leveled upon
her in a profound unblinking stare
that seemed to have been going on
for hours.
(Continued Next Week.)
'tttUPB
Hostess's Daughter (trying des
perately to keep the- conversation
going): Did you ever hear the joke
about the curio dealer who had two
skulls of Columbus one when he
was a boy and the other when he
was a man?
Wiggins No, I don't think I have.
What is it?
Flubb: "He's always boasting
that he keeps his word!"
Dubb: "Well, no one else ever
takes It!"
LESSON No. 15
Question: Why is
emulsified cod-liver oil
so important as an added
ration with milk in the
diet of children?
Answer: Because when
it is mixed with milk it
makes milk a more effi
cient rickets-preventing
food and builder of strong
bones. Children like it
best in the form of
SCOTT'S EMULSION
Diner (indignantly): "Bring the
proprietor here at once, there's a
wasp in my soup!"
Waiter: "It's no use sending for
the boss, sir. He's scared of 'em
himself!"
Father, mother and little Tommy
were In the street car. Tommy had
secured seatp, but poor father had
to stand.
Mother: "Tommy, doesn't it pain
you to see your father reaching for
a strap?"
Tommy: "Only at home, mother."
"Ten years ago I arrived in the
town with only one quarter, but
that quarter began my fortune at
once."
"You must have Invested It very
profitably."
"I did. I telegraphed home for
money."
"Mummy, I can't go to school to
day." "Why?"
"I don't feel well."
"Where don't you feel well?"
"In school."
A little tulle,
A yard of silk;
A little skin
As white as milk.
A little strap
How dare she breathe!
A little cough
"Good evening, Eve!"
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