Jasper County Democrat, Volume 7, Number 22, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 3 September 1904 — A SOLDIER OF COMMERCE [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

A SOLDIER OF COMMERCE

By JOHN ROE GORDON

SYNOPSIS OF PREVIOUS CHAPTERS. Chapter I—Harvey Irons, a commercial agent in Russia for a firm of American manufacturers, has been expelled from the ciar’s dominions. The czar has just prohibited the traffic in Georgia women. Hafiz Effendi, a Turk, and Mizlk, agent for the ameer of Bokhara, are in Titus seeking a bride for Prince Davonca. ll—Hafiz points out to Misik the bride he hat selected, a beautiful Georgian, Koura, daughter of a rich merchant in Tlfllz. Hafiz agrees to deliver the girl to a boat captain on the Caspian recommended by Mizlk. Captain Orskoff of the czar’s army has theTuric under surveillence. Ill—Hafiz and one Hassan, a greedy captain on Kur river, lure the merchant and his daughter on board of Hassan’s boat at midnight. Hafiz kills the merchant, and Hassan sails away with Koura locked in a cabin, Koura has pledged her hand to Captain Orskoff. IV—While beating about the eastern waters trying to reach Novgorod Irons boards Hassan's boat against the will of the captain, who. however, takes a bribe to carry the American to Astrakan. A Russian gunboat overhauls the craft. Hassan tells a plausible story about the presence of Koura, implicating Irons, who is arrested for abduction of one of the czar’s subjects. V—lrons is taken to Tlflis. In the family apartments of the prison where he is confined his sweetheart. Mile. Alma Jurnieff, niece of the governor, Colonel Jurnieff, is kept in seclusion. Her father and uncle had caused the banishment of the American to separate the lovers. Alma hears of Irons' plight and vows to save him. Vl—Colonel Jurnieff is conspiring to crush Irons. Hassan appears in court as witness against the American, who, he says, was abducting Koura. Vll—Prince Dellnikoff is coming to Tiflis. He is the choioe of Alma's father for a son-in-law. Alma buys a ship's cargo of hay to be delivered at Astrabad, Persia, and stipulates that the ship shall carry a man as passenger. VIII—The governor gives a ball in honor of Prince Dellnikoff. Alma, by her graciousness and witchcrv. captivates both the prince and her uncle. IX—Colonel Jurnieff expects to win promotion by bringing about The marriage of his niece and the prince. He urges Dellnlkoff to have the betrothal announced at the ball. Dellnikoff proposes and promises Alma any favor she may wish. She asks for one of his uniforms to Indulge in a lark as pretended inspector of prisons. X—Disguised as the prince, Alma inspects the dungeons. The prince himself, enveloped in a long cloak, accompanies her. Dellnikoff gets stupid from wine. Alma locks him in a cell, first securing his cloak, which she gives to Irons, whom she releases. Irons passes the guard unchallenged. Xl—Alma conducts Irons to the hayboat, As the lovers are about to separate the alarm sounds in the prison. Alma escapes with Irons, and they bide under the hay. CHAPTER XII. THE SEARCH FOR THE FUGITIVES—TH* HAYBOAT STARTS. | IHARKA of Ashkar pretended I I to waken from a deep slumRUr- J her as four soldiers, led by a subordinate officer, came rushing down the wharf. “Ho, there, on board this hayboat!” shouted the officer. “Masters, I am here,” said Charka, rubbing bis eyes and blinking In the light of the lanterns they carried. “What has happened?” “A prisoner of the czar has escaped! Assisted by a woman who is a traitor, he escaped from the prison at Tiflis tonight and must be, with his companion, somewhere in the city.” - “Well, am I the prisoner?” “No, you pig.” “Am I, then, the woman?” “Curses upon you!” “Why am I awakened with these shouts? I am a peaceful man from Ashkar, trying to sell my hay.” “Oh, your hay!” shouted one of the soldiers, with a laugh. “With the business of finding a prisoner of state on our minds, we must think of your hay!” As he spoke he thrust his bayonet deep into the hay. “By the gods,” exclaimed another, “that is an idea! This man is from Astrakhan and would no doubt assist the American to escape.” “Shut your mouth, fool!” said the officer. “There is no American. It was a Russian who escaped.” “Pardon! I forgot. But the Astrakhans do not love the czar.” “How much you love the czar!* replied Charka. “It is fear, not loyalty, that makes you curse me and stab my hay.” “By heaven, we will stab you! What did you come to Tiflis for?” “To sell my hay. It has been purchased, but not yet paid for.” “Insolent pig! And do you think we want hay from you?” “It is for beasts of a higher class I keep my hay,” said Charka calmly. A volley of curses answered him and a bayonet pricked his leg. “Charge the hay!” said the officer. “They may be hiding in it” “Burn the hay!” laughed a soldier. "That will settle It” “Burn it if you dare! I have something in my pocket” “A pistol, which you would use on the soldiers of the czar?” “No; a passport to safety signed by the governor.” “Do not burn his hay!” shouted the officer as one of the soldiers made a light by twisting a wisp of the hay Into ihe flame of the lantern. “We are after prisoners. We do not wish to run against the passport.” The soldiers were crawling over the hay, jamming their bayonets deep into it The officer was slashing it with bis saber. “Dogs of When I get my money, I will not stay in this place!” “What is that?” demanded the officer, turning on Charka. “You call us dogs—we who are your masters?” “You should tell the mollah that Ho jrould be pleased.” "Are you a follower of the mollah?” "Who else? It is so written. Charka of Ashkar was never false to the faith.” “Then leave Tiflis. The governor’s passport will save you from harm, but in the name of the czar I command you to depart at once. There will then be no chance of your doing mischief. We know the fugitives are not with you now. But if they came you would give them shelter.”

“I say truly I would do so if they came.” "Loosen your boat from its moorings and take yourself to the Caspian.” “But my hay is already sold.” “It is robbing no one. There is plenty of hay, and you say the payment has not been made. Qo, or I will forget the passport.” With assumed reluctance Charka went to the door of his box, into which two soldiers had gone to investigate, and came out with two sleepy Astrakhans. “Behold the loving acts of the czar, onr master," said Charka to his men. “We have sold our hay, but before payment is made we are commanded to go to the Caspian.” “It will destroy the hay. There will be no profit from the fair,” said one. “Profits! You want profits from a fair and yet follow the mollah against the czar?” returned one of the soldiers. Charka made a sign. The men at once began releasing the boat, amid the shouts and cries of soldiers and disturbed boatmen ail along tbe river. Hundreds of soldiers flocked along the wharfs, invaded boats, routing out men and women that they might inspect the most secret places. Charka, grumbling and with much make believe anger, slowly got under way. The soldiers laughed as the hayboat began slowly to descend the stream. The boat was a most crude affair. Its only means of propulsion was a great lateen sail, useless on this quiet night. So the men resorted to long poles, and the big boat crawled along the bank. The search throughout Tiflis went on. Generals and colonels, many of them informed for the first time that the abductor of Koura Biartelkis was an American, Joined in the hunt. Officers in the brilliant uniforms they had worn at the ball rushed with those in working garb and searched bazaars, coffee houses and churches. There was not a square foot of ground in Tiflis that was not searched nor a building that was not entered. Mystified, baffled and enraged, Jurnieff raved and cursed as he paced the prison corridor. But while he raved, and soldiers searched, Charka and his boat continued slowly down the river. By daylight Charka had made twenty miles and tied up at the rotting wharf of a small town. Leaving his men in charge, he went ashore to buy food. He returned with a sufficient supply for the day, and the boat went on. A little steam launch containing soldiers came puffing up behind him. “Who are you?” demanded the officer. “Why do you leave Tiflis with a load of hay? The markets are there.” “There are no markets for me,” said Charka, with a sad wail. “Many days

have I spent on the Journey. Many nights I lay and thought of my profits. At last, when I reached Tlflis, there came a merchant who owned five camels. He purchased the hay and promised to come and take it away and pay me for it But, alas, the soldiers of the czar came in the night and drove me away! I am Charka of Ashkar. They said that because I follow the mollah I am not fit to sell bay to camels.” ‘‘Enjoy yourself, fanatic. Go ask the mollah to buy your hay. He has many camels.” “Aye, and men and guns,” muttered Charka as the launch sped on. “Have you seen two escaped prisoners?” came back a voice. “I have seen many men. Ko one informed me he was an escaped prisoner.” “One was a woman.” “Then let a woman hunt. It is the only way." A curse for bis insolence came floating back. The launch continued down the river. • In the little box of a house Charka prepared a meal. Before he or his men partook of anything he called to the refugees. “It is safe,” he said. “The launch is out of sight, and we are passing swamp

lands where there are lib villages or farms. We shall meet no one. Come from under and eat It may be sorrie time before you reach a place of safety.” Harvey was the first to appear, and then the shining boots of Alma came wriggling from under the hay. They looked into each other’s eyes and laughed. It was so good to be free. They went Into the little house and ate tbe meal Charka had prepared. “Charka, you have done well,” said Alma. “I took the precaution to bring my purse. In it you will find enough to pay you—for your hay.” Charka took the purse and opened It. The shining gold brought a gleam to his eyes. “Let them aßk again,” he said. “You have kept your word with Charka. No Muscovite dog shall take you from this boat while I am alive.” “Good Charka!” said Alma. “It is so good to find a faithful friend.” CHAPTER XIII. THE STORM ON THE CASPIAN. HWO days and two nights they continued thus, traveling constantly. Two of tbe men did the poling while the third mau slept. At times, under the cover of favoring darkness, Harvey would emerge from his hiding place, and while Alma kept watch for pursuing Russians Irons assisted with the boat to give one of the hardworking Astrakhans a rest On the third day they saw a boat overhauling them. “We must keep well under cover till that boat has passed us,” said Harvey. “What do you make It out to be, Charka?” It was a long, low vessel, without masts, with high bow and stern. It was propelled by four rowers, two on each side, and a fifth man sat in the stern with a paddle to steer. “We have nothing to fear from that,” said Charka. “That is a Turkish cayik. Some rich merchant perhaps from Constantinople has brought his pleasure boat all the w r ay to the fair. Think of carrying a boat across land!” “That may be so or not," said Harvey. “A boat might be built at Tiflis after the Turkish model. It is safer for us to be out of sight.” The long boat came on rapidly, and Harvey and Alma again crawled under the bay. Charka grumbled enviously as he saw the four rowers bending to their task. The Turkish cayik seemed more anxious to avoid the hayboat than Charka was to avoid the eayik. It steered to the opposite side of the river, the efforts of the rowers were doubled, and at a burst of speed it went by. At night they were within sight of the village of Salain. Though it was a dark night, Charka, who had the lives of his passengers In mind, forbade them coming from under the hay. “The steamboat of the Muscovites has not yet returned up the river,” he said. “It is lying at Salain to watch the boats that go out upon the Caspian.” This was too much for the inquisitiveness of Harvey. He crawled to the edge of the hay to observe what was going on. “Charka,” he said, “that Turkish boat is up to something. I notice the Russian is going to intercept it. There’s business of some kind going on. Get nearer, that we may hear the conversation.”

As they came opposite the lights of the town they saw the Russian boat shoot out from the land and in the radius of the strong electric light in her bow saw the cayik evidently trying to escape. “They are after the Turk! We are In for it, too!” wailed Charka. “Keep a cool head, Charka,” said Harvey. “Remember, a precious life depends upon your shrewdness.” “I know.” “Stop where you are!” came a voice from the Russian. “We will inspect you.” Knowing the uselessness of refusing, Charka made his way toward the launch, which had now steamed up alongside the cayik. “It is true, most excellent sirs,” a Turkish voice from the cayik was saying. “I am an Osmanli. It is also true that I am Hafiz Effendi, who once acted as merchant in those goods the men of Georgia and Circassia had to sell. I stole nothing, but when a father wished to place his beautiful daughter in the house of a wealthy prince I carried on the negotiations. But that is all done. Even the other day a girl was stolen, but it was an American, not an Osmanli, who stole her.” “Yes, and we want that American now!” growled the officer in command. “What have you in those sacks?” “Nothing, excellent sir, but some of the goods I took to the fair and which I did not sell. I shall return to Astrabad and thence to Constantinople by way of the caravan.” “Go on,” said the officer, and the cayik shot away. “Now, you,” said the officer to Charka. “Hello! It is that slow old hayboat. Well, my friend, where are you going?” “I, too, my master, am going to Astrabad,” said Charka. “Does every one who goes to the fair at Tiflis go from there to Astrabad?” “Not all, excellent captain; but at Astrabad there are many caravans gathering, and I can sell my bay. The camels need it. To ascend tbe Volga to the big fair at Nijni Novgorod would take too long.” “Go on. There will be a flae mingling of races at Astrabad.” “No finer than at 1)1118,” said Charka as the hayboat slowly drew away. “The scum of the earth and the cream were at Tiflis.” The launch turned back to the wharf where it had been lying. Charka felt that he was safe, ant as

there was a slight breeze he raised hi* sail. He had but one thing more to fear, he reasoned, and that was a Russian gunboat Boatloads of hay were not infrequent on the Caspian, and he felt assured that it would not be difficult to hoodwink the captain of the gunboat. Under sail tbe boat made better progress and was soon dut on the Caspian, where in the inky darkness nothing could be seen. The slight wind that had promised so well soon died away, and the boat, now in deep water where the poles were useless, was almost helpless. Its big lateen sails flapped against the rude masts, and the men grumbled. This was not getting to Astrabad, and they had had enough of watching over the lives of a Muscovite woman and a man from what they considered another world. The boat got into a current that carried it out farther and farther, and Harvey, feeling secure in the darkness, called to Alma to come out from her hiding place. They sat together in the little deckhouse waiting for the breeze that must * surely come sooner or later. “By this time they are well in pursuit,” said Alma, with a shudder. “It is death to be taken now.” “It would have been death at any time, my darling. We must be cheerful. I wish we had a cayik instead of this old hayboat.” “Tbe cayik is faster, dear M. Irons, but would it be as safe? I fear that a storm is coming. In that little boat I would be afraid.” “I’d take my chances in that as soon as in this old hulk, and there would be the additional advantage of getting somewhere before tbe storm came.” “Ah, M. Irons, it is a long way across the Caspian.” “I am aware of that, Alma. I’ve been long enough trying to make the trip. Even now I am a good many, days from my windmills.” “I fear you will never see them again, dear M. Irons.” “Not see my windmills again? Why, I’ll sell them at the big fair at Nijnl Novgorod. Surest thing in the world, my darling. We’ll take our wedding trip out of my commissions. But don’t call me M. Irons. Call me Harvey. That is my name, as yours is Alma.” “But we do not—it is not, like Russian girls.” “You are a Russian girl no longer, dear. As soon as we get to a place where there is an American missionary who can perform the ceremony, or an American consulate, you will be my American wife, and the Russian guns can thunder all they please. Hello! What's up now?”

(TO BE CONTINUED.)

“I took the precaution to bring my purse."