Evening Republican, Volume 59, Number 101, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 19 May 1917 — PEG’S WHITE WINGS [ARTICLE]

PEG’S WHITE WINGS

By SILVER TURNER.

When the captain answered, “Aye»i aye, sir,” to the last orders aloft, Peg-, gle was left alone with the sail shop oifther hands. It stood down on South Water street, over a ship chandler's, a good, airy, sunlit loft, filled with the captain’s belongings and all the implements and paraphernalia of his trade. He had lived there for efghtteen years ever since his retirement from the West Indies trade, ever since Peggie had been a baby. And she loved the old loft. It had been her shelter and playground for years. She knew everything It contained, and all the captain’s customers. So it was quite natural, after the captain’s death, for her to keep his name outside, and his trade within. There was old Ben to act as first mate,, so to speak, and Mrs. MacGowan to look after the sewing of the sails. Peggy was in charge of customers and accounts. Mrs. MacGowan had kept house for the captain for years in the snug little flat over the sail shop, so naturally, after he had grtne away, she stayed on, looking after Peggy. And with Ben and his three assistants they remained a contented household until the coming of the Roving Lou. One morning after Ben had opened the old-fashioned wooden shutters outside the windows, and Mrs. MacGowan had started the whir of her sewing machine briskly. Peggy, from her point "'Srvaiitage on the stooL looked.aut..andL beheld a strange craft anchored in the slip where usually the sober-looktng James B. Gale lay, a lumber boat from Providence. This one was a three-master, with* high deck lines, and her prow sticking inquisitively up in the air. She was ocean-going, too, and weather beaten, and she needed sails badly, Peggie’s business glance discovered at once. Her general tone was gray, with touches of red and black on the cabin and deck trimmings, and over her rails there leaned one lone sailor. “Looks like a Portugee, don’t he?” said Ben. Peggie could not have told why. but the stranger had a fascination for her. She had grown to know the names of nearly all the customary callers along that water front, and this bird of passage puzzled her. And then the door rmened. and the master of the Roving Lou came into the shop. He was tall and young, and no Portuguese. “I want some sails for her,” he nodded vaguely toward the Roving Lou out of the window. “How long will it take to get them?” Ben got out his pencil, and figured In his leisurely way. while the strange captain looked boldly and fixedly at the slender figure on the high stool. Hft came often in the next few days. Ben liked him and sb did Mrs. Mac-" Gowan. He would sit up on one of the long wooden tables and tell stories of the cruises of the Roving Lou that delighted them. She had sailed the seven seas, now with one cargo, now with another, as It suited her master. Perhaps he talked too much around the little back rooms behind the chandler shops and the eating places. Ben said so. Anyway, there came a night when Peggie was wakened by shouts and running feet. Then came slmts. and when she looked out of her window she saw that they came from the little dark slip where the Roving Lou lay at anchor. Ben was already down the narrow stairs and on the street, pulling into a coat. Peggie laid her head on the windowsill and Mrs. MacGowan, big and motherly in *hpr white nightgown, fondh’d her wisely. “That was never hl3 cry,” she said. “Don’t you fret, dearie. He's a fine lad, and Ben’ll look out for him for you.” But Ben stayed over in the slip long, until the first amber light showed the East and the street lamps wo»t out. When he did come, the strange captain was with him, and he ha»iess, with a bandage around his JwwL Peggie went down to meet them. fstie and eager-eyed. “I thought it was river pirates.” he told her. “Two of them got me in my berth, and when I shot they hit ine with a blackjack. The Portuguese woke up. and we found two more in the cabin. It’s all right now. They didn’t believe I was after new sails."’ He grinned happily. “Two went overboard, and two got away with the marks of the Portuguese on them.” “What did they think you had there?” asked Peggie, anxiously. “Rifles and shells, filibustering for the Gulf. I don’t deal tn contraband, I told them—nothing more risky than pearls.” He drew out a little leather sack from his inner pocket and opened it flat on his palm. Inside > lav thne unset pearls, tender and beautiful as the dawn that was breaking. “I’ve carried those for three years.” he said. ‘They’ve waited for the bride. Like them. Peggie?” Peggie nodded. And she liked him more than ever because his first kiss was on her hair, on the little curls that lay close to her forehead, as her arm stole around his neck, and Ben called down the stairs that the coffee was ready. (Copyright, mi. by Newxpa-