The Lightning Conductor Discovers America

								

influence," she went on. "Have you got influence?"
"None whatever, madam."
Her face brightened. She'd have been bitterly disappointed if he had
answered differently! "Well, we'll see what I can do for you on land,
since you won't accept anybody's assistance on water," chirped the
benefactress. "With your knowledge of languages, you might help me in my
Propaganda." (The way she spoke that word spelt it with a capital.)
The Stormy Petrel flushed up again, whether with annoyance or
embarrassment or a mad desire to laugh, I couldn't decide. He murmured
that she was very kind, but that he wouldn't trouble her. She must have
many people to look after, and he would be all right in one way or
another. He wasn't afraid.
"No, indeed, I'm sure you're never afraid of anything!" protested Mrs.
Shuster, breathless with enthusiasm. But at this moment the officer who
was our guide felt that the limit had been reached, even for a
millionairess. He hinted that there was more to see of third-class life,
and moved us on when our leading lady had offered a royal handshake to
the steerage hero. She would no doubt have pinned a V. C. on his breast
if she had had one handy, but was obliged to content herself with
screaming out reassurances as we were torn away: "I won't forget you. I
shall see you again, and suggest something definite."
Of course we didn't want to see more third-class life but we had to
pretend to. We saw where the poor dears (Mrs. Shuster called them poor
dears) slept and bathed (if at all) and ate. After a boring ten or
fifteen minutes we were returning by the way we had come, when a sheet
of paper blew along the deck. It made straight for me as if asking to be
saved, and I saved it; otherwise it would have fluttered into the sea.
Somebody had just begun writing on the paper with one of those blue
indelible pencils such as soldiers use in the trenches. There were two
or three lines along the top of the page, and they jumped right at my
eyes, though of course I didn't mean to read them--"in case you don't
get the wireless. You must see him and make him understand that this
can't go on. Men rose from the dead in old days. What has been done
before can be done again. Warn him that----"
There the sentence broke off.
I was thrilled. It was as if a door suddenly flew open in front of a
dull house in a slummy street, to show for an instant a scene of
splendour, and then slammed shut on your prying nose.
Of course I knew the paper was Storm's, and the handwriting his (a
strong, educated hand) because there simply wasn't anybody else in that
crowd capable of it. But, as I told you, several of the steerage
passengers were taking advantage of the smooth weather to write letters;
and, as it happened, our Mystery was no longer engaged in writing. He'd
stuffed his pad and pencil into a pocket of his awful coat when the good
ship Shuster first bore down on him under full sail. Now, on our return,