/Blue Rave


About Our Company

n ▓some new wans, listen at yon keyhole when● he’s workin’ his figyurs.” ▓ My “chit” entitled me to three meals of● forecastle fare a day, the privileges of Su


▓-school literature and checkerboards, the ▓use of a crippled cot, and the right to l●isten each evening to a two-hour sermon in th●e mission chapel.In the comp▓any that gathered around the m▓ess-board at noon were few whose moth▓er-tongue was other t

han my own.The Briti●sh Isles were ably represented; the▓re were wanderers from Austral●ia, New Zealand, Canada, and ev●

en t

What We Do

wo from “the States.” My compatriot▓s were Chicago youths whose partnership seemed ●singularly appropriate—in India.▓ For the one was named William Curry and t▓

he o

ther Clarence Rice. “D’y● ’iver put yer two eyes on a● betther combeenation thon thot to be floati▓n’ about this land uv sunburn an’ naked●ness” demanded my companion on the right●.“Why, whin they two be on● the beach they’d ’ave only to look w▓an anither in

the face to git a● full meal.An’ yit they’re after te▓llin

’ us they’re goin’ to break it oop.〃埍 “You bet we be!” ejaculated ●Rice, forcing an extraordinary mouthful into on●e cheek to give f

Our Team

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ull play to his ton●gue.“This bunch don’t go pards no mo▓re in this man’s land!” 356“Fer why●” asked a sailor. “Here’s how,” continu●ed Rice.“In Nagpore the commissioner give u●s a swell set-down an’ everythi▓ng looked good fer tickets to Cally. 癞What’s yer name’ sez the guy to● Bill, when we come into the office after putt▓in’ away the set-down.‘An’ what’s yours 癔 he sez to me, after Bill had told him.‘Clare▓nce Rice,’ sez I.‘Go on,’ hollers t●he commish.‘N

e want to



on me●! Ye’re a pair o’ grafters.Git out o’ ●this office an’ out o’ Nagpore▓ in a hour or I’ll have ye run in—wid yer cur▓rie an’ rice!?/p>

“Yes,” sighed C▓urry, “that’s what they handed us all the wa▓y from Bombay.We was three weeks ge▓ttin’ across.” The meal o▓ver, I

descended to the street with the on▓e sel

f-supporting guest of the mission.He was● a clean-cut, stocky young m▓an of twenty-five, named Gerald Ja●mes, from Perth, Australia.Unti▓l


the outbreak

of the Boer war he had ▓been a kangaroo hunter in his native l●and.A year’s service in South A▓frica had aroused his latent● Wanderlust and,

once discharge

d, he had t●urned northward with two companions.Arrived▓ in Calcutta, his partners had joined the▓ po

lice force, wh

ile James, weary of be▓aring arms, had become a salesman in a wel▓l-known department store. ▓I dis

closed my accomplishments to his mana▓ger tha

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