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Davis, Richard Harding, 1864-1916

"Somewhere in France"

"Everybody knows Meyer
hasn't a brother, and if he hadn't made _that_ break he might have got
away with the other one. But now this Smedburg is going to wireless
ahead to Mr. Meyer and to the police."
"Has he no other way of spending his money?" I asked.
"He's a confounded nuisance!" growled the purser. "He wants to show us
he knows Adolph Meyer; wants to put Meyer under an obligation. It means
a scene on the wharf, and newspaper talk; and," he added with disgust,
"these smoking-room rows never helped any line."
I went in search of Talbot; partly because I knew he was on the verge
of a collapse, partly, as I frankly admitted to myself, because I was
sorry the young man had come to grief. I searched the snow-swept decks,
and then, after threading my way through faintly lit tunnels, I knocked
at his cabin. The sound of his voice gave me a distinct feeling of
relief. But he would not admit me. Through the closed door he declared
he was "all right," wanted no medical advice, and asked only to resume
the sleep he claimed I had broken. I left him, not without uneasiness,
and the next morning the sight of him still in the flesh was a genuine
thrill.


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