322 



THE AMERICAN BEE-KEKPKR 



November 



sJjy. Uut tliere Wcis no one there. 

 Poor Bescoby bad either sprung or 

 fallen overboard. 



I shouted to the quartermaster to 

 put the wheel hard down, and as 

 the ship ca-ne shaking in the wind I 

 jumped to the topgallant backstay 

 and slid rapidly to the deck. The 

 boat was at once lowered away, and 

 then another, but though we search- 

 ed for more than an hour and burn- 

 ed lights over a vast area of water 

 we found no trace of the hapless 

 midshipman. There was gloom in 

 the gunroom mess for many weeks 

 afterward, for Bess was a general 

 favorite. 



I never told the story of this un- 

 fortunate attachment, and I never 

 saw the woman, whose marriage I 

 read of in a Hongkong paper, who 

 had made my poor friend the sport 

 of a sLimmer vacation and ruined a 

 young and promising life for hor 

 own gratification and for the wi.ti- 

 aingof weialth and title. — San Frau- 

 :;isco Call. 



A MYSTERY EXPfLAlNeD. 



The Experienced Gentleman From Cincin- 

 nati Kne\(f All About It. 



"Speaking of queer things," said 

 the man with the red nose as a trou- 

 bled expression clouded his face, 

 "something happened to me when I 

 was living in South Bend which has 

 bothered mo not a little. I have told 

 the storj^ to perhaps 200 ditferent 

 people, but none of them was able 

 to solve the mystery." 



"Something tells me that I can do 

 it," said tlie Cincinnati drummer, 

 "and you can crack right ahead 

 with your j^arn." 



"Well, I went down tow^n one 

 evening to see a man. My wife coax- 

 ed me to stay at home, but I had 

 business of importance to transact. 

 I jiromised her to be at home at 

 sharp 10 o'clock, however, and to be 

 sober. As I went out she intimated 

 that if I didn't show up till mid- 



nigtit, and was boozy at that, some- 

 thing might happen to me, but of 

 course I took tliat as a joke." 



"Did you meet your man?" asked 

 the drummer. 



"Yes, 1 met him all right, and we 

 put in a pleasant two hours to- 

 gether. " 



"Drink nnything?" 



"Two glasses of lemonade, and it 

 was very weak stuff at that. About 

 half past 11 I started for home. It 

 was a beartiful starlight night, and 

 in walking a mile I saw as many as 

 a do/on falling stars. One of them 

 struck in the street not ten feet 

 away." 



"Well, you got home?" 



"Ycl;, I got home. My wife had 

 gone to bed and left the hall light 

 burning for me. I took off my hat 

 and overcoat and was about to step 

 out into the kitchen to got a drink 

 of water when I suddenly lost con- 

 sciousness. It was noon of the next 

 day when I came to." 



"Any wounds?" queried the 

 drummer. 



"Yes. I had been struck on the 

 head and received a bad scalp 

 wound. You can feel the scar rignt 

 here under my fingers. The doctor 

 couldn't make it out, nor has any 

 one else been able to. No burglar 

 had entered the house nor did I have 

 an enemy. I am inclined to believe 

 that I was struck by a falling star, 

 and yet how could it enter the 

 house? There was no lightning to 

 strike me down, nor could I have 

 been overcome with vertigo and 

 fallen and hurt myself. It vexes 

 and annoys me, and I wish the mys- 

 tery could be cleared up." 



"I'll clear it ujj for you," replied 

 the drummer. "Precisely such a 

 thing ha]iponed to me once — precise- 

 ly — only I didn't come to for four 

 days. Didn't it ever occur to you 

 that your wife was waiting there in 

 the hall, and that she struck you 

 down with a cluD?" 



"Mercy, nu!" 



