New Britain Herald Newspaper, July 30, 1915, Page 10

B were having our ' drawing and I drew prize private the secrit j.ricords of the Char~ akter Surety Com- Ru- in #on the Zulus I hadn’t met, there came _this stytic from our lottery, pany: S‘Runciman,’ dolph—Insu othe ‘sum . ‘of $100~ a saft voice and a tinder ~hand. red sarved of all Yobsarvers, as the intrepid explorers who had escaped from Blackegt Africa be the skin of their teet’,and without anny odder troehees of the hunt. * as soon somnabulatin’ {’roo zes of the dreamy walz; but to settin aloof in the greenery, un- umbrellacious pam, l'eflintin, I rund.qr- the secret trust looked up from me rivalry, to see a his father, Timothy young and beautus woman, standin’ the beénefit of his broth- over me like Hope p'intin’ the way. Bneiman, or his heirs." ‘to’cancel the same. Fevent, to any form of a few moments of confidential talk?” L In this case I have “May I ask the cilibrated . Dr. Am Schenck,” she said, “to ‘honor me with “A hull-clockful, mem,” I med haste olph Runciman late- to pertist; “with Mum ag the worrud 0,000 of the old Mid- of the day.” ' These bonds, | as With that, she did set close her srhil- aré not and never will - ing face uplifted; and yit, t'roo the zt‘t!my are engraved - dazzling mask, I eud detict an un- 0'it? When 3 good quiet fire in her great black eyes. e goes the limit. So, %, too,” T grumbled, ell me,” she began abruptly, “in your ‘peri atns of the slat’fl con- tittent did ¥o iver come across Mr.— be in a blacker hole,” 'Mr. Clayton Runciman?” i Rinn alriddy was & “Did we?” I exclaimed with enthu- ry, his finger on his sjasm.. “Did, wé iver eat jerked beef ,” at lenét’ Jarge een in doubt of his the ' Sudden—that's . how we and drink sour whey? Well, I guess ¥yis.” Him and us were tentmates if kem ‘The ‘inference s acrost him, sudden—but me frind and Runciman has sub- pattern. ~Noyes, knew him theé bist.” wuthless, securities: for ins ‘his iccintric father unconscious bitterness. have léft in a sealed feather birds of ill amen. “I thought likely,” she mused with “Birds of a Did you W of Clayton Run- iver: hear Mr. Runciman say whin he ted out on a wander- wud retarn hum?” ?G%!'! agoand hasn’t @ date. © Yis, just as littie after Rudolph ter be about due in anudder week.” as his ‘gicond wife a dder employed in the white lips,” “so soon, so soon That’s what the in- meant l‘y a good prise,” I added cautus. the g “From the time of his sayin’ it and of me tellin’ it,” I answered arter an instinet of mintal caleulatun, “he or- t'roo “Hivings!” &he murmured “But it is to be in the natur’ of a sur- She gev a sigh of relief and the rose ind side of him thin colors slipped into her cheeks like the ‘our ‘approach.” I re- afterglow reflicted on a lake. - “Oh, I ynderstand,” she cried, “and ‘that lieg open,” I will keep fait’ with you just as I'm T happened to sure you will keep fait’ with me. It news that Mrs. is exactly what I wud have, will stand in the. lightful the mayor’s recep- pleasant a de- urprise . all around. How t wud be if you -and Mr. ‘What's the matter Noyes, his comrades true, cud be pris- her here ‘as dis- int to wilcome him. It must be; it 3 to wgwm the free-. shall. You will accept, won't you, the s been presented? ] Wwith a gap at his to extind?” ‘wore impious to de- I ast. the gods. Since we luckily ac- Rudolph Runciman,” .‘Stz’ver baggidge \let us deliyer thim He mor the mayor, 1o inyite us (to. week-ending at Rudolph Runciman's ercival Noyes ~handséme villa in the suburbs.: He n ' traveler and was deeply interested, so his cortyns er of the expedi- note explained, in. African slopagraphy pillogist, Dr. Ed- and etnology, and communyun with ceeds like un- hospitality my husband will be proud “How will I know it whin I see it,” “Oh, to/ be ‘sure. Why I am Mrs. | she explained. 4 2 1 % L Aceardingly, a /few days found'us two sech sarvints.wud be a ticknical . ‘eddicatun for-him. No wan ilse wud Kem # - pass, be there beside Mrs. Runciman. There- modern. Dis- fore, he looked for'ard to a feast of and Brass, that season and a flow of roll. the gay throngs of the - Jarge brushed aside, with a laugh, ening the ob+ 'my objictuns to the scanty commons “The Big Prize that seemed to await us. Alriddy his futle fancy was building an owdacious plot, and in his soot case, a8 We wint down, were all the appliances for a makeup that the bist theatrical cus- tomer in town cud funnish. “You get me his pictur, Smithers,” he kept sayin, “and I will do the rist— and thim.” Not a hard task, be the way, for Clayton Runciman had been away long enough for his picture to be dili- gated to the limbo of forgotten things. Hince, the fust night I found it in the garret, out of its frame, and tucked between a broken ilestove and a baby’s preambulator. . Whin I sneaked it intolour room, howiver, I tried to dissuade Jarge from his designs. “The fust steer was the best,” I ar- gued. “Let us put it up to the old man. Accuse him of having got the fake bonds to puppytrate a base fraud, and bleed him good as the price of out silence. = Feeble, half-blind and near- ly in hijs dotage, he won’t have the nerve to resist us even if-he is vide of the offence.” . . “Which: he is,” retorted Jarge, with a shake of his embroidered locks. “I believe that Rudolph Runciman is a square man. “Besides, I have learned that he was ill'in bed at the time when these bonds must have been picked up. On the udder hand, I mistrust thig young woman, who pops up from nowhere to marry a man old enough to be her grandpap. “There’s a snide broker’s office in the very building where she worked. Of coorse she picked up the bonds and managed to substitute this for the good stuff in the secrit trust. “Why ilse did she ask you, a puffict stranger, so anxyus. like, about Clay- ton Runciman? ~Why ilse did she turn green at the t'ought of his retarn? Becuz she's afeared of the consekences of her own guilty act.” “I admit,” T hesitated, ‘“that I thought there was something fishy ‘about her long account of the parentage ‘of that little . boy, Tommy—wasn't that - his name?—we seen her playing with out on the ground. Whin somethin’ is ex- plained, thin it is not so simple ag it looks. ' But still, I ‘'was hoping for a quick strike. 2 8 “And I am out for a grand slam,” declared Jarge. “Hence tomorrow marhing I will be ealled to town, leav- ing you here. In the afternoon I will return ag Clayton Runciman. You will be the fust to wilcome me. {'ll be too like, niver fear, for old Runciman to have anny doubt. Mrs, Runciman, from your talk, is on the watch for hig'arrival. ' Oh, nawthing cud be more fit. It will go Smithers, it will ge.” _“How far?. To the extent of his coughing up the face of the wuthless bonds?” “That for the bonds!” snapped Jarge. . “I shall use thim unly for the puppose of discrediting her, of driv- ing her out. I'm going to fix mysilf for life; as the next of kin, the unly hair in the pussin of Clayton Runci- By Walt Gregg. deep in the evutable mud of mid-Af- rica: I'm tired of this sporting life; and the time has came for me to set- tle down and realize the bright ideels of yout”.” Habit, as the Rumans used to say, and a fixed wan, too. When Jarge took the bit in his teet’ the unly thing was to hangon and go along. The nixt marning, at the bid of a su- perstitus tilegram, Jarge tuk his de- parture and the soot case, too, leaving me to abide his retarn the nixt day. And in the afternoon I set out in the arbor of the grounds telling my host more strange things than iver kim out of Africa before, and spiculating about the little lad, Tommy, with whom Mrs. Runciman was again play- ing, yit inwardly in a blue funk of #suspinse and fear. | I seen him fust, coming down the road, the very pictur’ we had imag- ined; I rally hadn't believed that Jarge eud be so clever. Tall, erict, slight, his hair and mustache silvered be suf- fering, his face and hands blackened from exposure, it didn’t need the dinky bowler and English twidds he sported to tell that he was from furren parts. Me heart was in me t'roat as he swung t’roo the gate and up the pat’, and I didn’t like the taste of it, but I lepped to do me part. i “Clayton Ruynciman!” I exclaimed. “Be all that’s wonderful. And the last time we met was in the shade of the gobang tree.” “Clayton, brother?” faltered old Runciman, staggering to his feet, with blinking eye. . “Yis, it is you. back from the very jaws of debt. Evelyn darling, greet my dear Clayton.” “Yis, it i8 I, Rudolph,” said the’new- comer, and somethin’ in the tone of h!aA v'ice gey me chillg of the spine, “a happy combination of a rolling stun and a bad penny, back again for sup- plies. I'm more than glad, I'm sure, to meet darling Evelyn, but as for this seedy chap who pertinds to ricognize me, who is he annyway?” : i III. “This 1s Dr. Schenck, Clayton! plained Mr. Runciman, mildly. Iiminent ‘African traveler, whom you ought to remimber.” “I orter, indeed,” the other coolly replied, “since I burret him ans his . unfortunit comrade, Noyes, in the very heart of Howlybooloo land, and sint their defects hum by Ashmead. Did the rascal niver report? Thin the spiruts of the age must hev been too strong for him. At all evints, this fel- low here is a rank imposter—" “The same to you!"” T cried. For at that instinst anudder slim, erict figger, in bowler and twids, sil- vered be suffering, darkened be heat, was strollin’ up the pat’, who, I now know be the very cocky shadder of him, must be the troolyrdoral Jarge, and no mistake. “Impostor yoursilf,” I cried, exult- ant. “Your infamous makeup de- ceived me at fust glanct; but here is the genooine article, here is the real Clayton Runciman come into his own." man, whose body no doubt'is safe and- - “Who 'speaks my name?” ast Jarge. “What, Schenck, is it you? Thin the ticklish fly didn’t put you to sleep arter all. Brudder Rudolph, I greets you from the heart. And this is the charming leddy I have already heerd 50 much about? Charmed to meet you, sister.” Thin, for the fust he tunned and faced the odder, who, T know must be the viritible Clayton Runciman, called to life at this most unixpected junct- ure. { Gashly as was the countertimps, there was somethin’ amusin’ in the sight, for the pair were as much alike as those musical prodigals, the two Do-mi-os. Jest thin little Tommy slipped down from the arbor seat, and running over to Clayton Runciman clung to his legs, crying to be taken into his arms. And, .o again T seen that flerce light in Mrs. Runciman’s black eyes shining t'roo the mask of amazed uncertainty. She crossed over and took Jarge's hand. “I fink, Rudolph,” she said, “that this gentleman will have no trouble in establishing his identity. He is the very image of the pictur’ of your broth- er you showed me whin we were fust marret.” “T'anks, Portia,” said Jarge, bowing low. “I wraps mesilf in me virtoo, and abides your impartial jidgmint. Whereat Clayton Runciman gev & great laugh, with the gcod natur’ of wan ‘who has had too many troubles to be boddered about trifiles. “You are apt to be chilly, thin, my nuvvy frind,” he retarted. “But I wore no, trie man did I not submit my case to the same fair tribunal, especially as my baggidge seems "to hev garn astray with all my papers. “The same here,” said Jarge. “You see how it is, Rudolph,” Mrs. Runciman went on to her husband. “There won’t be anudder train down today, and, as you know, the Sunday trains are notorius for shirking the luggage. - These claimants may hev bot' fold the trut’ in this wan respect. We wants no scandal, do‘weé? ' Well, I understand that Peebles your agint, who was here a few days since, will be down tomorrow. I say, thin, let each of these men be kept in his own room until thin, with fopd and drink, av coorse.” “Plinty of the latter, please, and— T'll agree,” interposed Clayton Runci- mian. “And Peebles will soon strdighten out the right and wrong of this per- plexing * affair,” Mrs. Runciman con- cluded. “¥ig, yis,” agreed the old gintleman, who was half-crying. “Peebles isn't half-blind and foolish like me; Peebles knows Clayton like a book. You just wait for Peebles, my dear, You re- mimber -what' he brought back. There will be no reason, whin Clayton’s iden- tity is fully established why it shudn’t relieve mesilf and by—" \ “Hush!” warned Mrs. Runciman. It isn’t wise to go into that mow.” All the glitter that I seen in two pairs of eyes and.felt in me own told me that her advice was prudint. “Don't you look the seedy character e — t00?” asked Clayton Rurciman whin the derangements had all be made and We suvvints were about to lead him and Jarge to their respective rooms. Oh, I stand newter!” I interposed. “This gentleman is our guest,” re- plied Mrs. Runciman, hottily, “vouch- ed for by his Honor the Mayor, and you orter 'feel obliged tc him for the high minded part he takes.” in we wore alone she pranced up and down the room like wan of the Fewries, tearing her hair and mouth- ing tirrible t'ings. “Oh, that man, that man!” she kept “The sight of him drives “Kin I lose the chanct for proper re-' vinge? Shall I rist contint with the triv'al loss I hev alriddy prepared for whin I hev such instrumints at ‘hand? And to see the child in his very Arms? Agatha, Agatha, trust your sis- ter to avinge your wrongs wuthily.” he poised in front of me and I felt the tops of me shoes ‘way up on e 1 was shrunk so from fear. he man that kem last is your frind who passed off for Noy she raved, “and you are a pair of rogues, come down here undoubtedly after the Clayton Runciman trust, and you wud hev get it, too, had it not been for his marvellous retarn at the same time, ‘Will, thin, you shall hev it if you will do me will. Meet me with your com- panion in the lower hall tonight at twilve be the clock.” “It shall be as you say, madam,” I replied, appeasin’. But we wants the real securities, not the snide bonds you substituted for this.” She gev a laugh as terrible as her wrat’, “Oh, you too kin deduct, kin you? Will thin you shall hev the original package; I hev niver broken the seals. The wan I substituted for it is in Mr. Runciman’s possessun, brought down by Peebles. Don't fail me, I say, and you shall hev the price of blood.” ., Jarge and me crep’ down the stairs at midnight, whisperin’ ds we wint. We wanted the price, but not the blood you may be sure; and in order to get the wan we were ready to pertind to go after the odder. She met us at the vail, a skeery sight, with her face white and lumin- ous under those great black eyes. Be- tune her gasps she told us what we must do, a deed without a name, hot from the witches' broth of hate. That's all right,”" grumbled Jarge, “but in such & job we must have cash before delivery” “On delivery ciman, corraw:“ in view I have age under the pillars ciman’s bed. P And Jarge and me followed up the stairs, quaking from the twin eggy of hopé and fear. She led us to a marror corridor off the sicond hall, exp in the wav- ers of her breath how the dure of the mean,” Mrs. Run- , “and with that e -original pack- on*Clayton Run- ; On The Borderland | ind let into the side of Clayton Rungf. man’s room. “I hev the key, 1 will open it for you,” she mummered. “He ‘will be asleep by now-~the sleep that knows no wakening, mind. Who wouldn't lift the pillars and priss thim downy hard for such a prize underneat? Come, come,” And again Jarge and me blindly fol- lowed, trimbling with the fear of what we wudn't do; trimbling ' with the hope that t'roo some lucky break we might snatch out the package and be off over the verandy roof and far away to the fairy land of onlimited swag. & There niver was seech a fierce spirit in sech a pretty prison. We watched her as she tunned the key, as she mows ed the dure, n'iseless; and thin we bot" jined in a mintal groan as the crack shone bright, “He's up, Smithers; he’s up,” whis- pered Jarge. “If you kin neck him unaware I'll play a good sicond the moment I prig the prize. We'll plle the furniture on him, and thin off.” But eyen as I darted for'ard disprit, with him at me heels, v'e hung back amazed, uncertain; for Mrs. Runciman stepped into the room. “What are you doing with that child?” she demanded; and as we craned and peeked we seen Clayton Runciman a sitting as comfortable as you please in his rocking chair, with the little lad Tommy, in his arms. “I bribed wan of the servinis to leave him with me,” he replied pleas- antly, He reminds e of what a lit- tle child I lost five years ago might be by now.” : “And that pictur’ on the bureau, with roses twined around it, oh, you mother, my fiend!” hat child’s W ha, loved and lost, oh, my God!" » “Betrayed, deserted, you mean?” ( “Never—no never! She was adored wife. Listen, woman' be, began a pityus tale of B 1 found her dead, in penury, in Lon. don, five years ago, this child starv. ing by her side. I vowed to have re venge on you Clayton Runciman. But wait, not a word—you are in danger!” Like the wullwind T swarmed A that room,; twisting him b t oy on the floor, with the brat, the'scream- ing woman, the rocking chair in « = heap on top, and thin, like the panada, out we' gwarmed with ‘thi prize in Jarge's pocket. B In that fairy land of onlimited we opened the package. It con! ~Midland A. Q. bonds and that " ¥ trut’. And as we sadly med our back again to the land of hustle and grab, Jarge and me pondeéred overour rapid glide from luck to pluek. #o58:c § Old Timothy Runeciman must Hawe bought these 'bonds, we concluded, twinty years ago, whin they were flltl idged and at par, as a safe and sound’ invistment for Clayton Runciman whin he shud retarn from his wonder- in-boy's round. y "t By Annette Angert under half an up, when she called at the 'office housd with a blank face. " the ‘agent explained. It ‘Had. been Daphne who, catching sight “Dick, Thompson's men have left?” “Left?" x t “The plumber weni yesterday. I of the name onthe saw his wife this morning—they iive “To4Let” board 1n nearly opposite, you know. She says garden, that he’s ill, She doesn’t know: what's had lnnxtagegi upon the matter with him—he won't say. 0 8 “the front into the mid- folding'doors b !s?l;:ntal and echoing floors. igtairs and-a base: compensations. instance, 8. of- All he will say, is-that he won’t wark fices. He had come in’ the Cwith us. ouldlke togo over ¢ gets too dark?” house again for a million pounds.” - “And the others?” “They've left the house because he has. They’ve no other reason, so far as I can make out.” We met Thompson, a middle-aged Dpleces,, .. lately starting on his own ac- tiny the house with us. The ‘sun was flooding it with amber light, and the 0C~ garden, through the window of the snder the eaves, ‘With jjiyie octagonal room, which was to ed with eVerysstep, pqo.m: study, looked as beautifully imost pbscuring the Wifi-‘ynres) as a'stage picturc. hel htgewere, n. ; D _pounds @.year,” sald'the pigh ‘Daphne entranced. . « I think, still o were the previous tenants?” “An elderly lady-—san invalid. Some eople said that she wasn't quite t in her head. And hefore har pr the;owner would sell fordthere was a man named Gennifer. -Mr. § house I’ll take it ‘with the option of "9,:1:, we ; shall . agent, “I may as ‘e empowered %l the train [d: Daphne. -~ prevented™ my 6 or two visits Daphne “work 388, but Rer He'd a long illness—I forget what it Mallingham will¥ was, .except that it wasp't infectious. + « Mallingham, the man you’ll pay rent to, wasn't the original owner. He bought the place of the relatives of Prof. Anthony Ravett. " It was he who laid out the garden. They found him dying in the Little Coppice, half a mile at the back of it." Anthony Ravett—I remembered the name dimly. A man of whom many stories were extant—Asiatic explorer, experimenter, . guthor. of Yooks which no one weuld read and propagator: of thearies ‘which no one would believe.. ger of great promise ending in oid rdld‘ tragedy, as careers of , have a knack of doing. hy my ‘:?un left,” ::ded Thompso! can give you no idea.” “1t you could give’us the name of PR 5 e o g uated " . % it 3 The name’o! the reliable . wag almost on hich Mr. Th ~ suppl an whicl {9 ompson ¥ little-proved to be Merkins. She worm O well, albelt a_victim to a perm nent. ount, that evening. He went over ' inquisitiveness—so well, indeed, that Daphne abandoned the more intimate forms of supervision. But at the end of the third day of Merkins’ labors she appeared, shrill- voiced and flushed, and demanded her money. % “For I ain’t'a-comin’ ’ere no more,” she said. v “Her work's practically finished, isn’t it?” “Yes,’ sald Daphne. There was a pause. “You're still glad that we've taken the house?” + “Of course,” said Daphne, with tre- mendous emphasis. “Pll arrange far the furniture to be moved in on Thursday,” I said. Our new home was a sufficient im- provement on the old one to atone for a good deal of incidental weariness. At the end of the garden was an oak . fence, with trees, bearing red- gold fruit that seemed neither to.rip- en nor to decay, standing sentinel at each corner and in the center. Beyond stretched a private park of some 20 acres, beyond that, a coppice. ‘We acquired a stolid and unema- tional, but useful, maid from one of the villages near. She left us during the second week. She gave no reason. She merely repackd the tin box with which she arrived and went. I en- gaged other help, but none of them stayed more than a day or so. “I shall begin to wonder soon,” I said desperately, at last, “whether we were wise in moving.” “I wish we hadn’t,” said Daphne, with sudden passion. “And yet—!” “The garden!” I reminded her. “If we were to leave that I should die,” she said in a voice so low that 1 scarcely caught the words. ' 1 didn't understand her. But her mood changed and she seemed glad of my campanionship. Evening after evening we walked side by side down the n w, ‘box-bordéred pathway-— an aisle of scented sweetness. The earler fruits had ripened and gone the way of all fruits, but the three ‘trees by the oak fence were ki With thelr red-gold kyrden. I remember our halting beneath them. “My botanical knowledge is limit- €d,” I said. “Perhaps if I were to take some of 'the fruit to Kew—" “I want to show you the sunflawer by the southern border,” said Daph- ne, with an impatient little jerk at my arm. I put my hanu up to one cof the branches “Leave them on the tree, Dick. . . They—they ve a certain decorative value of their own, haven't they. And we don’t know that they're good to eat.” I looked down at her. shaking violently. “Are you cold?” 5 “No. Yet I think we will go iIn. See how wet the dew has made my shoes!” Days passed—strange, unhappy days, in which I felt the invisible breach between us widen and widen. It was subtle beyond all definition or analysis. My efforts to régain the old frank footing, to achieve the old gay spirit of camaraderie, were pathetie- ally seconded by Daphne; but they failed.’ Something stranger than eith- er of us was thrusting us apart, We had been at the Wilderness, I remember, three months, when I re- turned from town ane evening to find the house in absolute darkmess. We had bad the electric light installed, and in a moment I had flooded the hall and dining-room with its bril- lance. v I wandered through the house, call- ing. There was no answer. I passed through the French windows of the drawing-room into the garden. Some- thing glimmered, shadowy-white, at the far end of the lawn. It was Daphne. I carried her into the house, failed to revive her, and ran out again for assistamce. At the gate¢ I blundered into Thompson. “My wife 18 seriously ilL,” I told bim. “If you could fetch the nearest doctor for me—" The good fellow nodded and sped away. Daphne was still unconscious when Dr. O'Keefe appeared. He spoke of the ‘heat of overstrain and She was overwork, of the necessity of getting her at once to bed, and of my having turther assistance. | Thompson s wife, it seemed, was capable of nursing of a rudimentary type. I found the womau Willing to come, and sent for her. That night Daphne, as we watched, passed from the state of dull oblivien to wild delirium. Her veice, in a monotonous undertone, murmured un- ceasingly. Chiefly she spoke of the garden. It was a doorway, she sald—a dreaded yet irresistible entrance into a wider garden, one exquisite beyond all human explanation, a limitless ex- panse of beauty. And each tim¢ she had traveled nearer and nearer to the entrance, and each timeit was I who had drawn her back— “Back—to this!" she moaned, and stretehed forth 0] » i o groping, yearning We could do nothing, neither I nor the doctor, nor the goed, slow-witted soul who had taken on her strange responsibilities so willingly. Toward the end of the second nev- er-ending day they insisted upon my resting. O'Keefe had given. Daphne :;:;ee&ilne-:nu‘l;ti dx:d she lay silent still, was physically at of my tether. oot I went up the craoked stai little octagonal room. %Vs hlr; :x:h; camp bed there for emergencies. From the windew I looked down up- on the garden, silent and dappled and chill ynder the moonlight. It must have been a littla after four when I awoke, shuddering. A shaft of silver brillance crossed my pillow. 1 sprang up to switeh on the light, and the loose board creaked noisily under my slippered feet. 1 stooped hasitly to push it into its place, and it swung away under my hands (afterwards I giscovered that an iron pivet ram through its centre, clearly with a view to covering an old-fashioned hiding-place). I peered dawn into the gap between the floor and the ceiling of the room below. At the bottom lay what I took to be a dusty scrap of wall pa- per. 1 pulled it out, and found it covered with writing, dated dairy- fashion. There were three pages. “April 9, 1889” (I read)—'Today planted the seedlinge which the Sheikh gave me. He swears he had them from a prisoner who took them the bed, but only for a moment, was empty. n Without pausing, I the garden. Daphne lay middle tree. Her face was turned toward the sky. In her right hand, in a grasp which even 1 could n#t loos-. from the lost Garden of Eden. Thoses ©n, she held a half-eaten fruit. 4 who eat of the fruit are said to go through five stages—a vieclent rest- lessness and dislike for one's sur- roundings, an aversion for one's dear- est friends, a state of mental exalta- tiotion in which visions of the Garden constantly recur, a condition of coma or delirium, and death. “July 7, 1890—The three trees are now nearly four feet high. The Sheikh stated that they would bear fruit in the third year. “June 21, 1892—Small fruit, of a golden-red tint, appearing. The taste is dissimilar to anything I have eaten befare, but not unpleasing. “June 29, 1892—Have decided to dispose of the house at the earliest possible date. A man named Malling- ham has been over it, but he does not desire possession before the end of the year. If it were not for the Shiekh's fruit I should leave at once. “July 5—I am about to taste the fruit for the fourth time. No opium eater has had vislens to compare with mine during the last week or so If there be any risk in continuing to eat the fruit I am prepared to run it” “July 7—I have seen the garden. By tomorrow evening—" There the writing ended. 1 knew now what Antheny Ravett had been seeking when they found him dying in the coppice. 1 understood why the workmen and our maids had left, and why, fearing to confess to their petty thefts, they had offered no explanations. And 1 understood what Daphne had endured and the penalty that would be de- manded. 1 raced down to the room helow Mrs. Thompsen was leaning back in her seat, sleeping the sleep of stout and exhausted middle age. Her chair, tnrAt‘hp__mom‘ont, obscured my view of 1 carried her back into the and awoke the murse. Our search Dr. O'Keefe was mercifully brief. met him on his way to the house: o = He looked at Daphne. His N, formed the words “Too late!™ ahd my heart echoed them. Already her fao had the look of one Who has pas beyond the radius of human warm! and love. “Give her the Btrangest i tives you have,” 1 sald, “while [—* I had no clearly defined plans. a little later I found myself fin ¥ corrugated shed, fumbling in the dusf and darkness for the ax which there. 1 ran with it to the trees after a few moments’ work the were down. I found myself leaning weakly against ‘the fence. D .(’)Q'Keeh's hand was upom my 0 T “She is asking for youw," he and that was .lgl e She was pale—even paller 1t when I had left her! Her eyes wi half closed. She tried to Mft her as to me. but could mot. 1 bent and caught her to my M “Dear!” she ‘murmured, and silent and very-still. - The eyes of the doctor met mine. “She has been to the very Borde: land." he said; “but you have brought her back again. ... She will live."— Testing His Fortitude, ‘ “Tommy,” asked the visitor, “wh are you going to be when you gro up to be a man? “I'm going to be an arctic explos ’ er,” respon the bright little be “and new will you give me quarter?™ " “Gracious, TomMmy. What de want with a quarter?’ T “1 want te get five ice cream 20! and fing out, how much cold I stand.”