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Phoebe

Short Stories

"Fox-in-the-Morning"

A Bird of Bagdad

A Blackjack Bargainer

A Call Loan

A Chaparral Christmas Gift

A Chaparral Prince

A Comedy in Rubber

A Cosmopolite in a Cafe

A Departmental Case

A Dinner at--------*

A Double-Dyed Deceiver

A Fog in Santone

A Harlem Tragedy

A Lickpenny Lover

A Little Local Colour

A Little Talk about Mobs

A Madison Square Arabian Night

A Matter of Mean Elevation

A Midsummer Knight's Dream

A Midsummer Masquerade

A Municipal Report

A Newspaper Story

A Night in New Arabia

A Philistine in Bohemia

A Poor Rule

A Ramble in Aphasia

A Retrieved Reformation

A Ruler of Men

A Sacrifice Hit

A Service of Love

A Snapshot at the President

A Strange Story

A Technical Error

A Tempered Wind

According to Their Lights

After Twenty Years

An Adjustment of Nature

An Afternoon Miracle

An Apology

An Unfinished Christmas Story

An Unfinished Story

Aristocracy Versus Hash

Art and the Bronco

At Arms With Morpheus

Babes in the Jungle

Best-Seller

Between Rounds

Bexar Scrip No. 2692

Blind Man's Holiday

Brickdust Row

Buried Treasure

By Courier

Calloway's Code

Caught

Cherchez La Femme

Christmas by Injunction

Compliments of the Season

Confessions of a Humorist

Conscience in Art

Cupid a La Carte

Cupid's Exile Number Two

Dickey

Dougherty's Eye-Opener

Elsie in New York

Extradited from Bohemia

Fickle Fortune or How Gladys Hustled

Friends in San Rosario

From Each According to His Ability

From the Cabby's Seat

Georgia's Ruling

Girl

He Also Serves

Hearts and Crosses

Hearts and Hands

Helping the Other Fellow

Holding Up a Train

Hostages to Momus

Hygeia at the Solito

Innocents of Broadway

Jeff Peters as a Personal Magnet

Jimmy Hayes and Muriel

Law and Order

Let Me Feel Your Pulse

Little Speck in Garnered Fruit

Lord Oakhurst's Curse

Lost on Dress Parade

Madame Bo-Peep, of the Ranches

Makes the Whole World Kin

Mammon and the Archer

Man About Town

Masters of Arts

Memoirs of a Yellow Dog

Modern Rural Sports

Money Maze

Nemesis and the Candy Man

New York by Camp Fire Light

Next to Reading Matter

No Story

October and June

On Behalf of the Management

One Dollar's Worth

One Thousand Dollars

Out of Nazareth

Past One at Rooney's

Phoebe

Proof of the Pudding

Psyche and the Pskyscraper

Queries and Answers

Roads of Destiny

Roses, Ruses and Romance

Rouge et Noir

Round the Circle

Rus in Urbe

Schools and Schools

Seats of the Haughty

Shearing the Wolf

Ships

Shoes

Sisters of the Golden Circle

Smith

Sociology in Serge and Straw

Sound and Fury

Springtime a La Carte

Squaring the Circle

Strictly Business

Strictly Business

Suite Homes and Their Romance

Telemachus, Friend

The Admiral

The Adventures of Shamrock Jolnes

The Assessor of Success

The Atavism of John Tom Little Bear

The Badge of Policeman O'Roon

The Brief Debut of Tildy

The Buyer From Cactus City

The Caballero's Way

The Cactus

The Caliph and the Cad

The Caliph, Cupid and the Clock

The Call of the Tame

The Chair of Philanthromathematics

The Champion of the Weather

The Church with an Overshot-Wheel

The City of Dreadful Night

The Clarion Call

The Coming-Out of Maggie

The Complete Life of John Hopkins

The Cop and the Anthem

The Count and the Wedding Guest

The Country of Elusion

The Day Resurgent

The Day We Celebrate

The Defeat of the City

The Detective Detector

The Diamond of Kali

The Discounters of Money

The Dog and the Playlet

The Door of Unrest

The Dream

The Duel

The Duplicity of Hargraves

The Easter of the Soul

The Emancipation of Billy

The Enchanted Kiss

The Enchanted Profile

The Ethics of Pig

The Exact Science of Matrimony

The Ferry of Unfulfilment

The Fifth Wheel

The Flag Paramount

The Fool-Killer

The Foreign Policy of Company 99

The Fourth in Salvador

The Friendly Call

The Furnished Room

The Gift of the Magi

The Girl and the Graft

The Girl and the Habit

The Gold That Glittered

The Greater Coney

The Green Door

The Guardian of the Accolade

The Guilty Party - An East Side Tragedy

The Halberdier of the Little Rheinschloss

The Hand that Riles the World

The Handbook of Hymen

The Harbinger

The Head-Hunter

The Hiding of Black Bill

The Higher Abdication

The Higher Pragmatism

The Hypotheses of Failure

The Indian Summer of Dry Valley Johnson

The Lady Higher Up

The Last Leaf

The Last of the Troubadours

The Lonesome Road

The Lost Blend

The Lotus And The Bottle

The Love-Philtre of Ikey Schoenstein

The Making of a New Yorker

The Man Higher Up

The Marionettes

The Marquis and Miss Sally

The Marry Month of May

The Memento

The Missing Chord

The Moment of Victory

The Octopus Marooned

The Passing of Black Eagle

The Pendulum

The Phonograph and the Graft

The Pimienta Pancakes

The Plutonian Fire

The Poet and the Peasant

The Pride of the Cities

The Princess and the Puma

The Prisoner of Zembla

The Proem

The Purple Dress

The Ransom of Mack

The Ransom of Red Chief

The Rathskeller and the Rose

The Red Roses of Tonia

The Reformation of Calliope

The Remnants of the Code

The Renaissance at Charleroi

The Roads We Take

The Robe of Peace

The Romance of a Busy Broker

The Rose of Dixie

The Rubaiyat of a Scotch Highball

The Rubber Plant's Story

The Shamrock and the Palm

The Shocks of Doom

The Skylight Room

The Sleuths

The Snow Man

The Social Triangle

The Song and the Sergeant

The Sparrows in Madison Square

The Sphinx Apple

The Tale of a Tainted Tenner

The Theory and the Hound

The Thing's the Play

The Third Ingredient

The Trimmed Lamp

The Unknown Quantity

The Unprofitable Servant

The Venturers

The Vitagraphoscope

The Voice of the City

The Whirligig of Life

The World and the Door

Thimble, Thimble

Tictocq

To Him Who Waits

Tobin's Palm

Tommy's Burglar

Tracked to Doom

Transformation of Martin Burney

Transients in Arcadia

Two Recalls

Two Renegades

Two Thanksgiving Day Gentlemen

Ulysses and the Dogman

Vanity and Some Sables

What You Want

While the Auto Waits

Whistling Dick's Christmas Stocking

Witches' Loaves







"You are a man of many novel adventures and varied enterprises," I
said to Captain Patricio Malone. "Do you believe that the possible
element of good luck or bad luck--if there is such a thing as luck--
has influenced your career or persisted for or against you to such an
extent that you were forced to attribute results to the operation of
the aforesaid good luck or bad luck?"

This question (of almost the dull insolence of legal phraseology) was
put while we sat in Rousselin's little red-tiled cafe near Congo
Square in New Orleans.

Brown-faced, white-hatted, finger-ringed captains of adventure came
often to Rousselin's for the cognac. They came from sea and land, and
were chary of relating the things they had seen--not because they were
more wonderful than the fantasies of the Ananiases of print, but
because they were so different. And I was a perpetual wedding-guest,
always striving to cast my buttonhole over the finger of one of these
mariners of fortune. This Captain Malone was a Hiberno-Iberian creole
who had gone to and fro in the earth and walked up and down in it. He
looked like any other well-dressed man of thirty-five whom you might
meet, except that he was hopelessly weather-tanned, and wore on his
chain an ancient ivory-and-gold Peruvian charm against evil, which has
nothing at all to do with this story.

"My answer to your question," said the captain, smiling, "will be to
tell you the story of Bad-Luck Kearny. That is, if you don't mind
hearing it."

My reply was to pound on the table for Rousselin.

* * * * *

"Strolling along Tchoupitoulas Street one night," began Captain
Malone, "I noticed, without especially taxing my interest, a small man
walking rapidly toward me. He stepped upon a wooden cellar door,
crashed through it, and disappeared. I rescued him from a heap of soft
coal below. He dusted himself briskly, swearing fluently in a
mechanical tone, as an underpaid actor recites the gypsy's curse.
Gratitude and the dust in his throat seemed to call for fluids to
clear them away. His desire for liquidation was expressed so heartily
that I went with him to a cafe down the street where we had some vile
vermouth and bitters.

"Looking across that little table I had my first clear sight of
Francis Kearny. He was about five feet seven, but as tough as a
cypress knee. His hair was darkest red, his mouth such a mere slit
that you wondered how the flood of his words came rushing from it. His
eyes were the brightest and lightest blue and the hopefulest that I
ever saw. He gave the double impression that he was at bay and that
you had better not crowd him further.

"'Just in from a gold-hunting expedition on the coast of Costa Rica,'
he explained. 'Second mate of a banana steamer told me the natives
were panning out enough from the beach sands to buy all the rum, red
calico, and parlour melodeons in the world. The day I got there a
syndicate named Incorporated Jones gets a government concession to all
minerals from a given point. For a next choice I take coast fever and
count green and blue lizards for six weeks in a grass hut. I had to be
notified when I was well, for the reptiles were actually there. Then I
shipped back as third cook on a Norwegian tramp that blew up her
boiler two miles below Quarantine. I was due to bust through that
cellar door here to-night, so I hurried the rest of the way up the
river, roustabouting on a lower coast packet that made up a landing
for every fisherman that wanted a plug of tobacco. And now I'm here
for what comes next. And it'll be along, it'll be along,' said this
queer Mr. Kearny; 'it'll be along on the beams of my bright but not
very particular star.'

"From the first the personality of Kearny charmed me. I saw in him the
bold heart, the restless nature, and the valiant front against the
buffets of fate that make his countrymen such valuable comrades in
risk and adventure. And just then I was wanting such men. Moored at a
fruit company's pier I had a 500-ton steamer ready to sail the next
day with a cargo of sugar, lumber, and corrugated iron for a port
in--well, let us call the country Esperando--it has not been long ago,
and the name of Patricio Malone is still spoken there when its
unsettled politics are discussed. Beneath the sugar and iron were
packed a thousand Winchester rifles. In Aguas Frias, the capital, Don
Rafael Valdevia, Minister of War, Esperando's greatest-hearted and
most able patriot, awaited my coming. No doubt you have heard, with a
smile, of the insignificant wars and uprisings in those little tropic
republics. They make but a faint clamour against the din of great
nations' battles; but down there, under all the ridiculous uniforms
and petty diplomacy and senseless countermarching and intrigue, are to
be found statesmen and patriots. Don Rafael Valdevia was one. His
great ambition was to raise Esperando into peace and honest prosperity
and the respect of the serious nations. So he waited for my rifles in
Aguas Frias. But one would think I am trying to win a recruit in you!
No; it was Francis Kearny I wanted. And so I told him, speaking long
over our execrable vermouth, breathing the stifling odour from garlic
and tarpaulins, which, as you know, is the distinctive flavour of
cafes in the lower slant of our city. I spoke of the tyrant President
Cruz and the burdens that his green and insolent cruelty laid upon the
people. And at that Kearny's tears flowed. And then I dried them with
a picture of the fat rewards that would be ours when the oppressor
should be overthrown and the wise and generous Valdevia in his seat.
Then Kearny leaped to his feet and wrung my hand with the strength of
a roustabout. He was mine, he said, till the last minion of the hated
despot was hurled from the highest peaks of the Cordilleras into the
sea.

"I paid the score, and we went out. Near the door Kearny's elbow
overturned an upright glass showcase, smashing it into little bits. I
paid the storekeeper the price he asked.

"'Come to my hotel for the night,' I said to Kearny. 'We sail
to-morrow at noon.'

"He agreed; but on the sidewalk he fell to cursing again in the dull
monotonous way that he had done when I pulled him out of the coal
cellar.

"'Captain,' said he, 'before we go any further, it's no more than fair
to tell you that I'm known from Baffin's Bay to Terra del Fuego as
"Bad-Luck" Kearny. And I'm It. Everything I get into goes up in the
air except a balloon. Every bet I ever made I lost except when I
coppered it. Every boat I ever sailed on sank except the submarines.
Everything I was ever interested in went to pieces except a patent
bombshell that I invented. Everything I ever took hold of and tried to
run I ran into the ground except when I tried to plough. And that's
why they call me Bad-Luck Kearny. I thought I'd tell you.'

"'Bad luck,' said I, 'or what goes by that name, may now and then
tangle the affairs of any man. But if it persists beyond the estimate
of what we may call the "averages" there must be a cause for it.'

"'There is,' said Kearny emphatically, 'and when we walk another
square I will show it to you.'

"Surprised, I kept by his side until we came to Canal Street and out
into the middle of its great width.

"Kearny seized me by an arm and pointed a tragic forefinger at a
rather brilliant star that shone steadily about thirty degrees above
the horizon.

"'That's Saturn,' said he, 'the star that presides over bad luck and
evil and disappointment and nothing doing and trouble. I was born
under that star. Every move I make, up bobs Saturn and blocks it. He's
the hoodoo planet of the heavens. They say he's 73,000 miles in
diameter and no solider of body than split-pea soup, and he's got as
many disreputable and malignant rings as Chicago. Now, what kind of a
star is that to be born under?'

"I asked Kearny where he had obtained all this astonishing knowledge.

"'From Azrath, the great astrologer of Cleveland, Ohio,' said he.
'That man looked at a glass ball and told me my name before I'd taken
a chair. He prophesied the date of my birth and death before I'd said
a word. And then he cast my horoscope, and the sidereal system socked
me in the solar plexus. It was bad luck for Francis Kearny from A to
Izard and for his friends that were implicated with him. For that I
gave up ten dollars. This Azrath was sorry, but he respected his
profession too much to read the heavens wrong for any man. It was
night time, and he took me out on a balcony and gave me a free view of
the sky. And he showed me which Saturn was, and how to find it in
different balconies and longitudes.

"'But Saturn wasn't all. He was only the man higher up. He furnishes
so much bad luck that they allow him a gang of deputy sparklers to
help hand it out. They're circulating and revolving and hanging around
the main supply all the time, each one throwing the hoodoo on his own
particular district.

"'You see that ugly little red star about eight inches above and to
the right of Saturn?' Kearny asked me. 'Well, that's her. That's
Phoebe. She's got me in charge. "By the day of your birth," says
Azrath to me, "your life is subjected to the influence of Saturn. By
the hour and minute of it you must dwell under the sway and direct
authority of Phoebe, the ninth satellite." So said this Azrath.'
Kearny shook his fist violently skyward. 'Curse her, she's done her
work well,' said he. 'Ever since I was astrologized, bad luck has
followed me like my shadow, as I told you. And for many years before.
Now, Captain, I've told you my handicap as a man should. If you're
afraid this evil star of mine might cripple your scheme, leave me out
of it.'

"I reassured Kearny as well as I could. I told him that for the time
we would banish both astrology and astronomy from our heads. The
manifest valour and enthusiasm of the man drew me. 'Let us see what a
little courage and diligence will do against bad luck,' I said. 'We
will sail to-morrow for Esperando.'

"Fifty miles down the Mississippi our steamer broke her rudder. We
sent for a tug to tow us back and lost three days. When we struck the
blue waters of the Gulf, all the storm clouds of the Atlantic seemed
to have concentrated above us. We thought surely to sweeten those
leaping waves with our sugar, and to stack our arms and lumber on the
floor of the Mexican Gulf.

"Kearny did not seek to cast off one iota of the burden of our danger
from the shoulders of his fatal horoscope. He weathered every storm on
deck, smoking a black pipe, to keep which alight rain and sea-water
seemed but as oil. And he shook his fist at the black clouds behind
which his baleful star winked its unseen eye. When the skies cleared
one evening, he reviled his malignant guardian with grim humour.

"'On watch, aren't you, you red-headed vixen? Out making it hot for
little Francis Kearny and his friends, according to Hoyle. Twinkle,
twinkle, little devil! You're a lady, aren't you?--dogging a man with
your bad luck just because he happened to be born while your boss was
floorwalker. Get busy and sink the ship, you one-eyed banshee. Phoebe!
H'm! Sounds as mild as a milkmaid. You can't judge a woman by her
name. Why couldn't I have had a man star? I can't make the remarks to
Phoebe that I could to a man. Oh, Phoebe, you be--blasted!'

"For eight days gales and squalls and waterspouts beat us from our
course. Five days only should have landed us in Esperando. Our Jonah
swallowed the bad credit of it with appealing frankness; but that
scarcely lessened the hardships our cause was made to suffer.

"At last one afternoon we steamed into the calm estuary of the little
Rio Escondido. Three miles up this we crept, feeling for the shallow
channel between the low banks that were crowded to the edge with
gigantic trees and riotous vegetation. Then our whistle gave a little
toot, and in five minutes we heard a shout, and Carlos--my brave
Carlos Quintana--crashed through the tangled vines waving his cap
madly for joy.

"A hundred yards away was his camp, where three hundred chosen
patriots of Esperando were awaiting our coming. For a month Carlos had
been drilling them there in the tactics of war, and filling them with
the spirit of revolution and liberty.

"'My Captain--/compadre mio/!' shouted Carlos, while yet my boat was
being lowered. 'You should see them in the drill by /companies/--in
the column wheel--in the march by fours--they are superb! Also in the
manual of arms--but, alas! performed only with sticks of bamboo. The
guns, /capitan/--say that you have brought the guns!'

"'A thousand Winchesters, Carlos,' I called to him. 'And two
Gatlings.'

"'/Valgame Dios/!' he cried, throwing his cap in the air. 'We shall
sweep the world!'

"At that moment Kearny tumbled from the steamer's side into the river.
He could not swim, so the crew threw him a rope and drew him back
aboard. I caught his eye and his look of pathetic but still bright and
undaunted consciousness of his guilty luck. I told myself that
although he might be a man to shun, he was also one to be admired.

"I gave orders to the sailing-master that the arms, ammunition, and
provisions were to be landed at once. That was easy in the steamer's
boats, except for the two Gatling guns. For their transportation
ashore we carried a stout flatboat, brought for the purpose in the
steamer's hold.

"In the meantime I walked with Carlos to the camp and made the
soldiers a little speech in Spanish, which they received with
enthusiasm; and then I had some wine and a cigarette in Carlos's tent.
Later we walked back to the river to see how the unloading was being
conducted.

"The small arms and provisions were already ashore, and the petty
officers and squads of men conveying them to camp. One Gatling had
been safely landed; the other was just being hoisted over the side of
the vessel as we arrived. I noticed Kearny darting about on board,
seeming to have the ambition of ten men, and doing the work of five. I
think his zeal bubbled over when he saw Carlos and me. A rope's end
was swinging loose from some part of the tackle. Kearny leaped
impetuously and caught it. There was a crackle and a hiss and a smoke
of scorching hemp, and the Gatling dropped straight as a plummet
through the bottom of the flatboat and buried itself in twenty feet of
water and five feet of river mud.

"I turned my back on the scene. I heard Carlos's loud cries as if from
some extreme grief too poignant for words. I heard the complaining
murmur of the crew and the maledictions of Torres, the sailing master
--I could not bear to look.

"By night some degree of order had been restored in camp. Military
rules were not drawn strictly, and the men were grouped about the
fires of their several messes, playing games of chance, singing their
native songs, or discussing with voluble animation the contingencies
of our march upon the capital.

"To my tent, which had been pitched for me close to that of my chief
lieutenant, came Kearny, indomitable, smiling, bright-eyed, bearing no
traces of the buffets of his evil star. Rather was his aspect that of
a heroic martyr whose tribulations were so high-sourced and glorious
that he even took a splendour and a prestige from them.

"'Well, Captain,' said he, 'I guess you realize that Bad-Luck Kearny
is still on deck. It was a shame, now, about that gun. She only needed
to be slewed two inches to clear the rail; and that's why I grabbed
that rope's end. Who'd have thought that a sailor--even a Sicilian
lubber on a banana coaster--would have fastened a line in a bow-knot?
Don't think I'm trying to dodge the responsibility, Captain. It's my
luck.'

"'There are men, Kearny,' said I gravely, 'who pass through life
blaming upon luck and chance the mistakes that result from their own
faults and incompetency. I do not say that you are such a man. But if
all your mishaps are traceable to that tiny star, the sooner we endow
our colleges with chairs of moral astronomy, the better.'

"'It isn't the size of the star that counts,' said Kearny; 'it's the
quality. Just the way it is with women. That's why they give the
biggest planets masculine names, and the little stars feminine ones--
to even things up when it comes to getting their work in. Suppose they
had called my star Agamemnon or Bill McCarty or something like that
instead of Phoebe. Every time one of those old boys touched their
calamity button and sent me down one of their wireless pieces of bad
luck, I could talk back and tell 'em what I thought of 'em in suitable
terms. But you can't address such remarks to a Phoebe.'

"'It pleases you to make a joke of it, Kearny,' said I, without
smiling. 'But it is no joke to me to think of my Gatling mired in the
river ooze.'

"'As to that,' said Kearny, abandoning his light mood at once, 'I have
already done what I could. I have had some experience in hoisting
stone in quarries. Torres and I have already spliced three hawsers and
stretched them from the steamer's stern to a tree on shore. We will
rig a tackle and have the gun on terra firma before noon to-morrow.'

"One could not remain long at outs with Bad-Luck Kearny.

"'Once more,' said I to him, 'we will waive this question of luck.
Have you ever had experience in drilling raw troops?'

"'I was first sergeant and drill-master,' said Kearny, 'in the Chilean
army for one year. And captain of artillery for another.'

"'What became of your command?' I asked.

"'Shot down to a man,' said Kearny, 'during the revolutions against
Balmaceda.'

"Somehow the misfortunes of the evil-starred one seemed to turn to me
their comedy side. I lay back upon my goat's-hide cot and laughed
until the woods echoed. Kearny grinned. 'I told you how it was,' he
said.

"'To-morrow,' I said, 'I shall detail one hundred men under your
command for manual-of-arms drill and company evolutions. You rank as
lieutenant. Now, for God's sake, Kearny,' I urged him, 'try to combat
this superstition if it is one. Bad luck may be like any other visitor
--preferring to stop where it is expected. Get your mind off stars.
Look upon Esperando as your planet of good fortune.'

"'I thank you, Captain,' said Kearny quietly. 'I will try to make it
the best handicap I ever ran.'

"By noon the next day the submerged Gatling was rescued, as Kearny had
promised. Then Carlos and Manuel Ortiz and Kearny (my lieutenants)
distributed Winchesters among the troops and put them through an
incessant rifle drill. We fired no shots, blank or solid, for of all
coasts Esperando is the stillest; and we had no desire to sound any
warnings in the ear of that corrupt government until they should carry
with them the message of Liberty and the downfall of Oppression.

"In the afternoon came a mule-rider bearing a written message to me
from Don Rafael Valdevia in the capital, Aguas Frias.

"Whenever that man's name comes to my lips, words of tribute to his
greatness, his noble simplicity, and his conspicuous genius follow
irrepressibly. He was a traveller, a student of peoples and
governments, a master of sciences, a poet, an orator, a leader, a
soldier, a critic of the world's campaigns and the idol of the people
in Esperando. I had been honoured by his friendship for years. It was
I who first turned his mind to the thought that he should leave for
his monument a new Esperando--a country freed from the rule of
unscrupulous tyrants, and a people made happy and prosperous by wise
and impartial legislation. When he had consented he threw himself into
the cause with the undivided zeal with which he endowed all of his
acts. The coffers of his great fortune were opened to those of us to
whom were entrusted the secret moves of the game. His popularity was
already so great that he had practically forced President Cruz to
offer him the portfolio of Minister of War.

"The time, Don Rafael said in his letter, was ripe. Success, he
prophesied, was certain. The people were beginning to clamour publicly
against Cruz's misrule. Bands of citizens in the capital were even
going about of nights hurling stones at public buildings and
expressing their dissatisfaction. A bronze statue of President Cruz in
the Botanical Gardens had been lassoed about the neck and overthrown.
It only remained for me to arrive with my force and my thousand
rifles, and for himself to come forward and proclaim himself the
people's saviour, to overthrow Cruz in a single day. There would be
but a half-hearted resistance from the six hundred government troops
stationed in the capital. Th country was ours. He presumed that by
this time my steamer had arrived at Quintana's camp. He proposed the
eighteenth of July for the attack. That would give us six days in
which to strike camp and march to Aguas Frias. In the meantime Don
Rafael remained my good friend and /compadre en la cause de la
libertad/.

"On the morning of the 14th we began our march toward the sea-
following range of mountains, over the sixty-mile trail to the
capital. Our small arms and provisions were laden on pack mules.
Twenty men harnessed to each Gatling gun rolled them smoothly along
the flat, alluvial lowlands. Our troops, well-shod and well-fed, moved
with alacrity and heartiness. I and my three lieutenants were mounted
on the tough mountain ponies of the country.

"A mile out of camp one of the pack mules, becoming stubborn, broke
away from the train and plunged from the path into the thicket. The
alert Kearny spurred quickly after it and intercepted its flight.
Rising in his stirrups, he released one foot and bestowed upon the
mutinous animal a hearty kick. The mule tottered and fell with a crash
broadside upon the ground. As we gathered around it, it walled its
great eyes almost humanly towards Kearny and expired. That was bad;
but worse, to our minds, was the concomitant disaster. Part of the
mule's burden had been one hundred pounds of the finest coffee to be
had in the tropics. The bag burst and spilled the priceless brown mass
of the ground berries among the dense vines and weeds of the swampy
land. /Mala suerte/! When you take away from an Esperandan his coffee,
you abstract his patriotism and 50 per cent. of his value as a
soldier. The men began to rake up the precious stuff; but I beckoned
Kearny back along the trail where they would not hear. The limit had
been reached.

"I took from my pocket a wallet of money and drew out some bills.

"'Mr. Kearny,' said I, 'here are some funds belonging to Don Rafael
Valdevia, which I am expending in his cause. I know of no better
service it can buy for him that this. Here is one hundred dollars.
Luck or no luck, we part company here. Star or no star, calamity seems
to travel by your side. You will return to the steamer. She touches at
Amotapa to discharge her lumber and iron, and then puts back to New
Orleans. Hand this note to the sailing-master, who will give you
passage.' I wrote on a leaf torn from my book, and placed it and the
money in Kearny's hand.

"'Good-bye,' I said, extending my own. 'It is not that I am displeased
with you; but there is no place in this expedition for--let us say,
the Senorita Phoebe.' I said this with a smile, trying to smooth the
thing for him. 'May you have better luck, /companero/.'

"Kearny took the money and the paper.

"'It was just a little touch,' said he, 'just a little lift with the
toe of my boot--but what's the odds?--that blamed mule would have died
if I had only dusted his ribs with a powder puff. It was my luck.
Well, Captain, I would have liked to be in that little fight with you
over in Aguas Frias. Success to the cause. /Adios/!'

"He turned around and set off down the trail without looking back. The
unfortunate mule's pack-saddle was transferred to Kearny's pony, and
we again took up the march.

"Four days we journeyed over the foot-hills and mountains, fording icy
torrents, winding around the crumbling brows of ragged peaks, creeping
along rocky flanges that overlooked awful precipices, crawling
breathlessly over tottering bridges that crossed bottomless chasms.

"On the evening of the seventeenth we camped by a little stream on the
bare hills five miles from Aguas Frias. At daybreak we were to take up
the march again.

"At midnight I was standing outside my tent inhaling the fresh cold
air. The stars were shining bright in the cloudless sky, giving the
heavens their proper aspect of illimitable depth and distance when
viewed from the vague darkness of the blotted earth. Almost at its
zenith was the planet Saturn; and with a half-smile I observed the
sinister red sparkle of his malignant attendant--the demon star of
Kearny's ill luck. And then my thoughts strayed across the hills to
the scene of our coming triumph where the heroic and noble Don Rafael
awaited our coming to set a new and shining star in the firmament of
nations.

"I heard a slight rustling in the deep grass to my right. I turned and
saw Kearny coming toward me. He was ragged and dew-drenched and
limping. His hat and one boot were gone. About one foot he had tied
some makeshift of cloth and grass. But his manner as he approached was
that of a man who knows his own virtues well enough to be superior to
rebuffs.

"'Well, sir,' I said, staring at him coldly, 'if there is anything in
persistence, I see no reason why you should not succeed in wrecking
and ruining us yet.'

"'I kept half a day's journey behind,' said Kearny, fishing out a
stone from the covering of his lame foot, 'so the bad luck wouldn't
touch you. I couldn't help it, Captain; I wanted to be in on this
game. It was a pretty tough trip, especially in the department of the
commissary. In the low grounds there were always bananas and oranges.
Higher up it was worse; but your men left a good deal of goat meat
hanging on the bushes in the camps. Here's your hundred dollars.
You're nearly there now, captain. Let me in on the scrapping
to-morrow.'

"'Not for a hundred times a hundred would I have the tiniest thing go
wrong with my plans now,' I said, "whether caused by evil planets or
the blunders of mere man. But yonder is Aguas Frias, five miles away,
and a clear road. I am of the mind to defy Saturn and all his
satellites to spoil our success now. At any rate, I will not turn away
to-night as weary a traveller and as good a soldier as you are,
Lieutenant Kearny. Manuel Ortiz's tent is there by the brightest fire.
Rout him out and tell him to supply you with food and blankets and
clothes. We march again at daybreak.'

"Kearny thanked me briefly but feelingly and moved away.

"He had gone scarcely a dozen steps when a sudden flash of bright
light illumined the surrounding hills; a sinister, growing, hissing
sound like escaping steam filled my ears. Then followed a roar as of
distant thunder, which grew louder every instant. This terrifying
noise culminated in a tremendous explosion, which seemed to rock the
hills as an earthquake would; the illumination waxed to a glare so
fierce that I clapped my hands over my eyes to save them. I thought
the end of the world had come. I could think of no natural phenomenon
that would explain it. My wits were staggering. The deafening
explosion trailed off into the rumbling roar that had preceded it; and
through this I heard the frightened shouts of my troops as they
stumbled from their resting-places and rushed wildly about. Also I
heard the harsh tones of Kearny's voice crying: 'They'll blame it on
me, of course, and what the devil it is, it's not Francis Kearny that
can give you an answer.'

"'I opened my eyes. The hills were still there, dark and solid. It had
not been, then, a volcano or an earthquake. I looked up at the sky and
saw a comet-like trail crossing the zenith and extending westward--a
fiery trail waning fainter and narrower each moment.

"'A meteor!' I called aloud. 'A meteor has fallen. There is no
danger.'

"And then all other sounds were drowned by a great shout from Kearny's
throat. He had raised both hands above his head and was standing
tiptoe.

"'PHOEBE'S GONE!' he cried, with all his lungs. 'She's busted and gone
to hell. Look, Captain, the little red-headed hoodoo has blown herself
to smithereens. She found Kearny too tough to handle, and she puffed
up with spite and meanness till her boiler blew up. It's be Bad-Luck
Kearny no more. Oh, let us be joyful!

"'Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall;
Humpty busted, and that'll be all!'

"I looked up, wondering, and picked out Saturn in his place. But the
small red twinkling luminary in his vicinity, which Kearny had pointed
out to me as his evil star, had vanished. I had seen it there but half
an hour before; there was no doubt that one of those awful and
mysterious spasms of nature had hurled it from the heavens.

"I clapped Kearny on the shoulder.

"'Little man,' said I, 'let this clear the way for you. It appears
that astrology has failed to subdue you. Your horoscope must be cast
anew with pluck and loyalty for controlling stars. I play you to win.
Now, get to your tent, and sleep. Daybreak is the word.'

"At nine o'clock on the morning of the eighteenth of July I rode into
Aguas Frias with Kearny at my side. In his clean linen suit and with
his military poise and keen eye he was a model of a fighting
adventurer. I had visions of him riding as commander of President
Valdevia's body-guard when the plums of the new republic should begin
to fall.

"Carlos followed with the troops and supplies. He was to halt in a
wood outside the town and remain concealed there until he received the
word to advance.

"Kearny and I rode down the Calle Ancha toward the /residencia/ of Don
Rafael at the other side of the town. As we passed the superb white
buildings of the University of Esperando, I saw at an open window the
gleaming spectacles and bald head of Herr Bergowitz, professor of the
natural sciences and friend of Don Rafael and of me and of the cause.
He waved his hand to me, with his broad, bland smile.

"There was no excitement apparent in Aguas Frias. The people went
about leisurely as at all times; the market was thronged with bare-
headed women buying fruit and /carne/; we heard the twang and tinkle
of string bands in the patios of the /cantinas/. We could see that it
was a waiting game that Don Rafael was playing.

"His /residencia/ as a large but low building around a great courtyard
in grounds crowed with ornamental trees and tropic shrubs. At his door
an old woman who came informed us that Don Rafael had not yet arisen.

"'Tell him,' said I, 'that Captain Malone and a friend wish to see him
at once. Perhaps he has overslept.'

"She came back looking frightened.

"'I have called,' she said, 'and rung his bell many times, but he does
not answer.'

"I knew where his sleeping-room was. Kearny and I pushed by her and
went to it. I put my shoulder against the thin door and forced it
open.

"In an armchair by a great table covered with maps and books sat Don
Rafael with his eyes closed. I touched his hand. He had been dead many
hours. On his head above one ear was a wound caused by a heavy blow.
It had ceased to bleed long before.

"I made the old woman call a /mozo/, and dispatched him in haste to
fetch Herr Bergowitz.

"He came, and we stood about as if we were half stunned by the awful
shock. Thus can the letting of a few drops of blood from one man's
veins drain the life of a nation.

"Presently Herr Bergowitz stooped and picked up a darkish stone the
size of an orange which he saw under the table. He examined it closely
through his great glasses with the eye of science.

"'A fragment,' said he, 'of a detonating meteor. The most remarkable
one in twenty years exploded above this city a little after midnight
this morning.'

"The professor looked quickly up at the ceiling. We saw the blue sky
through a hole the size of an orange nearly above Don Rafael's chair.

"I heard a familiar sound, and turned. Kearny had thrown himself on
the floor and was babbling his compendium of bitter, blood-freezing
curses against the star of his evil luck.

"Undoubtedly Phoebe had been feminine. Even when hurtling on her way
to fiery dissolution and everlasting doom, the last word had been
hers."

* * * * *

Captain Malone was not unskilled in narrative. He knew the point where
a story should end. I sat reveling in his effective conclusion when he
aroused me by continuing:

"Of course," said he, "our schemes were at an end. There was no one to
take Don Rafael's place. Our little army melted away like dew before
the sun.

"One day after I had returned to New Orleans I related this story to a
friend who holds a professorship in Tulane University.

"When I had finished he laughed and asked whether I had any knowledge
of Kearny's luck afterward. I told him no, that I had seen him no
more; but that when he left me, he had expressed confidence that his
future would be successful now that his unlucky star had been
overthrown.

"'No doubt,' said the professor, 'he is happier not to know one fact.
If he derives his bad luck from Phoebe, the ninth satellite of Saturn,
that malicious lady is still engaged in overlooking his career. The
star close to Saturn that he imagined to be her was near that planet
simply by the chance of its orbit--probably at different times he has
regarded many other stars that happened to be in Saturn's
neighbourhood as his evil one. The real Phoebe is visible only through
a very good telescope.'

"About a year afterward," continued Captain Malone, "I was walking
down a street that crossed the Poydras Market. An immensely stout,
pink-faced lacy in black satin crowded me from the narrow sidewalk
with a frown. Behind her trailed a little man laden to the gunwales
with bundles and bags of goods and vegetables.

"It was Kearny--but changed. I stopped and shook one of his hands,
which still clung to a bag of garlic and red peppers.

"'How is the luck, old /companero/?' I asked him. I had not the heart
to tell him the truth about his star.

"'Well,' said he, 'I am married, as you may guess.'

"'Francis!' called the big lady, in deep tones, 'are you going to stop
in the street talking all day?'

"'I am coming, Phoebe dear,' said Kearny, hastening after her."

Captain Malone ceased again.

"After all, do you believe in luck?" I asked.

"Do you?" answered the captain, with his ambiguous smile shaded by the
brim of his soft straw hat.




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