Laughing Bill Hyde | Page 2

Finally,
having found the climates of California, Oregon and Washington
uniformly unsuited to one of his habits, force of circumstance in the
shape of numerous hand-bills adorned with an unflattering half-tone of
himself, but containing certain undeniably accurate data such as
diameter of skull, length of nose, angle of ear, and the like, drove him
still north and west. Bill was a modest man; he considered these
statistics purely personal in character; to see them blazoned publicly on
the walls of post-offices, and in the corridors of county buildings,
outraged his finer feelings, so he went away from there, in haste, as
usual.
Having never sailed the sea, he looked forward to such an experience
with lively anticipation, only to be disappointed in the realization. It
was rough off Flattery, and he suffered agonies strange and terrifying.
In due time, however, he gained his sea legs and, being forever curious,
even prying, he explored the ship. His explorations were interesting, for
they took him into strange quarters--into the forecastle, the steerage,
even into some of the first-class state-rooms, the doors of which had
been left "on the hook" while their occupants were at meals. No small
benefit accrued to Mr. Hyde from these investigations.
One day during the dinner-hour, as he was occupied in admiring the
contents of a strange suit-case, a voice accosted him over his shoulder,
and he looked up to discover a face in the cabin window. Bill realized
that an explanation was due, for it was evident that the speaker had
been watching him for some little time; but under the circumstances,
even though the face in the window was round, youthful,
good-humored, explanations promised to be embarrassing.
"How d'y?" said Mr. Hyde.
"What luck?" inquired the stranger.
Mr. Hyde sat back upon his heels and grinned engagingly. "Not much,"
he confessed. "Can't find it nowhere. This guy must be a missionary."
The new-comer opened the door and entered. He was a medium-sized,

plump young man. "Oh, I say!" he protested. "Is it as bad as that?" Bill
nodded vaguely, meanwhile carefully measuring the physical
proportions of the interloper. The latter went on:
"I saw that you knew your business, and--I was hoping you'd manage to
find something I had missed."
Mr. Hyde breathed deep with relief; his expression altered. "You been
through ahead of me?" he inquired.
"Oh, several times; daily, in fact." The speaker tossed a bunch of keys
upon the berth, saying: "Glance through the steamer-trunk while you're
here and declare me in on anything-you find."
Mr. Hyde rose to his feet and retreated a step; his look of relief was
replaced by one of dark suspicion. As always, in moments of extremity,
he began to laugh.
"Who are you?" he demanded.
"I? Why, I live here. That's my baggage. I've been through it, as I told
you, but--" The young man frowned whimsically and lit a cigarette. "It
doesn't diagnose. I can't find a solitary symptom of anything worth
while. Sit down, won't you?"
Mr. Hyde's manner changed for a second time. He was embarrassed,
apologetic, crestfallen. "Your cabin? Why, then--it's my mistake!" he
declared. "I must 'a' got in the wrong flat. Mac sent me up for a deck of
cards, but--Say, that's funny, ain't it?"
He began to see the joke upon himself, and the youth echoed his
laughter.
"It is funny," the latter agreed. "For Heaven's sake, don't spoil it. Sit
down and have a smoke; I'm not going to eat you."
"See here! You don't mean--? D'you think for a minute--?" Mr. Hyde
began with rotund dignity, but the other waved his cigarette impatiently,

saying:
"Oh, drop that stuff or I'll page your friend 'Mac' and show you up."
In assuming his air of outraged innocence Laughing Bill had arched his
hollow chest and inhaled deeply. As a result he began to cough,
whereupon his new acquaintance eyed him keenly, saying:
"That's a bad bark. What ails you?"
"Con," said Laughing Bill.
"Pardon me. I wouldn't have smoked if I'd known." The speaker
dropped his cigarette and placed a heel upon it. "What are you doing
here? Alaska's no place for weak lungs."
Gingerly seating himself upon the narrow settee Mr. Hyde murmured,
wonderingly: "Say! You're a regular guy, ain't you?" He began to laugh
again, but now there was less of a metallic quality to his merriment.
"Yes sir, dam' if you ain't." He withdrew from his pocket a
silver-mounted hair-brush and comb, and placed them carefully upon
the washstand. "I don't aim to quit winner on a sport like you."
"Thanks, awfully!" smiled the young man. "I'd have fought you for that
comb and brush. Girl stuff, you understand? That's she." He pointed to
a leather-framed photograph propped against the mirror.
Laughing Bill leaned forward and studied the