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Beach, Rex Ellingwood, 1877-1949

"The Ne'er-Do-Well"

"
"Ask Higgins or Ringold who I am."
"There's no one aboard by either of those names."
"Say!" Anthony raised himself excitedly on one arm, but was forced
to lie down again without delay. "If this is a ship, I must have
come aboard. How did I do it? When? Where?"
"You came on with two men, or rather between two men, about eight-
thirty this morning. They put you in here, gave your ticket to the
purser, and went ashore. The slim fellow was crying, and one of
the deck-hands had to help him down the gangway."
"That was Higgins all right. Now, Doctor, granting, just for the
sake of argument, that this is a ship and that I am Jefferson
Locke, when is your next stop?"
"One week."
"What?" Kirk's eyes opened wide with horror. "I can't stay here a
week."
"You will have to."
"But I tell you I CAN'T, I just can't. I bought a new car the
other day and it's standing in front of the New York Theatre. Yes,
and I have two rooms and a bath at the Astor, at fifteen dollars a
day."
The physician smiled heartlessly. "You must have been drinking
pretty heavily, but I guess you will remember everything by-and-
by."
"I can't understand it," groaned the bewildered invalid. "What
ship is this--if it is really a ship?"
"The SANTA CRUZ.


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