Omaha Daily Bee Newspaper, June 18, 1916, Page 26

“Is this Miss Hartley—Mona Hart- ley?” The girl who had picked up the tele- phone transmitter gave a wondering affirmative to the question over the wire, noting that it was a woman's voice whil had spoken—a voice which held a suggestion of hysteria. “My name is Burton,” continued the voice, “Mrs."Amos Burton. You don’t know me, but I have heard of you and our friend, Miss Davenport, and {—I wish you could help me! I am in desperate trouble!” The hysteria in the speaker’s voice was rising to a shrill crescendo. “Don’t say you cannot! If" you refuse me, I don't konw what I shall do!” Mona glanced at her watch. “If you will B2ive me your address, Mrs. éurton, iss Davenport and I will see you at once” she said briskly. It was shortly after 11 o’clock when the hired motor of the two girls drew up before a handsome residence, set well back in a yard, on which wealth had lavished much attention, Their cards received an immediate invita- tion from the butler to follow him to Mrs, Burton’s boudoir—a tastefully furnished and essentially feminine room on the second floor. Mrs, Bur- ton rose from a chaise lounge to meet them. The newspaper description of her had not been exaggerated. Her age could not have been more than ears, and she looked even younger in her lacy n lis: and boudoir cap, under which gleanfed heavy masses of dull bronze hair. Her eyes showed a sleepless night, and her fingers worked nervously as she shook hands with her visitors, and motioned them to chairs near her. ] " She need no_urging to plunge into her story. l?.videmlivI it was the up- permost subject of her thoughts. “I sent for you,” she began, “be- cause I need the services of someone upon whose discretion and honesty I can absolutely rely. “If you read the newspapers, began again, “you must thing of my married life, and my husband. The papers printed columns about us both at the time of our wed- ding. Mr. Burton is much older than myself, although we_were both de- . voted to each other. But he is fright- fully jealous, unreasonably so at times, for I swear that I have never iven him cause to doubt my loyalty. d now—it looks as though circum- - stances had conspired against me, and that I shall be b his eyes as S duwinl creature, unworthy of his ~ love, through absolutely ng lault of my own.” 4 - <3 “Go on, pleasc, ed Mona. Mrs. Burton flushed, “To go back a short time in my life, I must tell you that before my, marriage I was on rather good terms with George Alli- son, a young artist. In fact, had con- ditions been different the affair might have ed more seriously. As it was, it was definitely at an end éven before 1 received Mr. Burton's offer of . You see, Mr. Allison - ruined hin B ig career with e time I became rm: a shrug she watched the gi him some Such an appeal, of course, have destroyed ‘any love for him, even if there had been any left, for it was easy enough to read be- tween the lines of the ravages of his own . But I sent him some money, rather foolishly, per- haps—and en forgot the incident i eRe Dacsed ‘sgaln, and continued (i "14 b s - ived ‘a ternoon rece! g Y man styling himsels Abe with a request :‘b]ect. I’ received him and he hy ‘me with the anpouncement tlu:ek n{ly' l:gmu fm?c Geo(rn Allison were/in t! session of .a newspar r, and' iho:?to be published—un- ess I could raise enough money to * buy them back. Of course, I thought ! he was shooting at random, but when T searched by desk I foynd that he had, indeed, spoken the truth, for all of my letters hadjbeen stolen.” Mona's face contracted grimly. see!” she said grimly. “And ‘what is the name of the enterprising n r in the case?” 2 Surely, you muyst ‘know it. It has uqnlre‘ 8 tremen- dous reputation by publishing the most “sensational scandals of an paper in this section—affaits “whicl fo one but a person intimately ac- inted in society could have known 3::1. Everyone has suspected for ‘mofiths that The T: was being lied with its material by someone received into the best homes ;iot{-rlnd there have been ugly other scandal stories, even sensational than those it has|is which were suppressed at the last moment. When thoughtfully. “That fact, at least, should give us a base from which to work. Who, besides yourself, had ac- cess to the desk—and who knew the letters were there?” “No one!” said Mrs. promptly. “But that is impossible,” remon- strated the girl. “The thief must have known. And we must find the thief if we are to help you! Have you a maid?” “Of course—but Mimi {is quite above suspicion, I assure you. would vouch for her devotion.” “Can we talk to her?” asked Mona. In\answer Mrs. Burton pressed a concealed call button at her side. It was quite obvious that she thought her visitors were ting valuable time. A moMment later the door opened to admit a young, dark-eyed girl, with unmistakeable Parisian fea- tures and mannerisms, who stood silently surveying them as Mrs. Bur- ton explained that her visitors wished to ask her a few questions. : Mona flung a half dozen searching ueries to the demure maid, who met| them all without so much as a change of color. In the end, Mona was forced to abandon the amateur in- quisition, and giying 8 signal to Mary, arose reluctantly as Mrs. Burton dis- missed the servant. : “I am afraid’ you are right about Mimi,” said Mona, as she stood, sur- veying the room uncertainly. -“She is either absolutely loyal and honest, or one of the most consummate ac- tresses [ have met.” As they gnud through the hall, Mona caught a glimpse of Mimi's face watching them wonderingly. In the lower hall, Mona uttered a sud- Burton den exclamation, and started back to thtln’:iu. s ) “1 have forgotten my purse,” she said hurriedly., “I can get it, Mrs, Burton—thanks. 1 At the door of the boudoir, Mona hesitated a_moment, and then step- ped suddenly into the room. Mimi was rising from the telephone. Mona flashed her a quick glance, and saw that the girl was flushing uncomfortably. “To whom were you phoning?” she asked abruptly. ! Mimi tossed her head. “And what does that matter to ‘you?” Mona compressed her lips, and icked up her purse. ‘“Nothing—per- aps!” she , and walked down the stairs thoughtfully. In the lower hall, she faced Mrs, Burton decidedly. “That maid of yours knows_more about this affajr than she had\told us!” she said. ‘fWith your perm 1 would like to question her again, “I am certain you are mistaken,” said Mrs, Burton dubiously, “but if you are to help me, 1 suppose you must have your own way. Again Mimi was summohed, and again she faced Mona's swiftly varied questions—this time meeting her in- tes tor with more assurance, as moqg realizing that she h;d.fi"‘er n‘¥- t ”zon uence to lupbpl?‘r: her. In e end. . Mona was ol . , to own herself defeated: ' “wronged her, )" she said simply, “But I'am more confident than ¢ver that she holds the key to the disappearance of Kour letters, and that we must mal er tell us the truth!” ““Oh, I hope you are wron e Mrs. Burton, Mona flul:fdhhqr a swift glance. The other's defense of her maid, in spite of her own trouble, spoke much for her generosity. “You will hear from us very soon— perhaps in the course of an hour,” promised Mona, as the two fir]u pre- pared to take their leave. “I am not sure get just how we can help you, or whether you have done wisely in conting to us instead of to a licensed detective wncy. But if it's possible fior m”w you, be sure that we will o ¢ woaey ¢ Mary turned to her friend im- pulsively ‘'when the two were alone! “What did you mean by your prom- ise to let her hear from us in an hour or so?” “Because we are going back again,” said. Mona quickly. “First, I have some purchases to make for the bene- fit of our friend, Mimi." She instructed the driver to stop at 2 drug store, and a few minutes later lhekre‘turfnfif to t‘l.u m;lc.hl:e wi:'hd a packet of a“peculiar c er, which she exhibited tfl\imph:nouy. “It may not work,” she said, “but 1 mean to try it at any rate.” Mrs, Burton et them with a glance in which hope and bewilder- ment mingled. “Have you found any- thing?" she aske " er “I" hope -to—shortly,” said Mona. d “Have you an old envelope with your address?” she asked. i i Mrs. Burton's bewilderment deep- I promptly, and Mona straightened with a cry of apparent satisfaction. “I have caught you red-handed, Mimi!” she said crisrly‘ “Perhaps you have not heard of the wonderful evidence of human finger prints? It has been established that there is no more infallible witness than the tell- tale marks of the thief's own hand. This envelope”—holding out that which Mrs. Burton had given her— “revealed a peculiar set of finger prints. And now,” producing the vanity box. “I have anothen set of finger prints, which coincides exactly. As the envelope was recovered from Mrs, Burton’s desk, there is only one course I can take. T must telephone for the police, and give you into cus- tody on the 'charge of purloinin; documents of your employer. May use your 'phone Mrs, Burton = The mistress stared as though fazed by the sudden development. For a moment Mimi stood, mrvzyinl her questioner with wide-eyed amaze- ment, Then with a gasp she sprang forward and caught Mona's arm. “No—no, not the police!” she wailed. “Anythmf but the police! I confess! 1 will tell you everything— but not the police!” Mona’s ingenious ruse had worked perfectly. The girl swiftly veiled her satisfaction and pretended to consider the maid’s request. “I don't know that you can help us—that we need your evidence,” she said - dubiously. “Oh, but’ you do not know-yor do not know all that I can tell you,” pleaded Mimi swiftly. I can take you 'to the man ‘who paid me the money for the letters, wlfo—" “You wretch!” cried Mrs. Burton, who now sawithe other's duplicity. Mimi's tears redoubled. “His name is Runkle, and he told me that he would pay me well for any information I could give him for his newspaper. But even he is not the man you want. He is only an agent. e real man is—" “Who?” snapped Mona, Mimi sntiled craftily. “You promise me that T shall be protected—that I shall not suffer?” “If you tell the truth and keep faith with me," conceded Mona grudgingly. “Very well, then, It is a promise. The man you want, who employed Runkle, is Reginald Wentworth," Mrs.t Burton gave a cry of in- credulity, “Impossible! Why, I know Mr. Wentworth welll He is above any such infamy. There would be no need for him to stoop to such meth- ods 'to gain money, for he is rich in his own right, popular, and a caller in all the best homes of town.” Mona smiled cryptically. “Doesn’t your description tally ex- actly with the.jdea you gave me of the mysterious inforrhant of The Tat- tler in Society? All but the financial standing of Mr, Wentworth—and per- haps his income may be largely bluff!” rs. Burton frawned dubiously. “Of course, you may be right,” she con- ceded. “After the revelation of Mi- mi’s: treachery I could believe almost anything!” - She turned on the maid angrily. “If it were not for Miss 's.. promise”of proteetion’ T | would be tempted to turn you over to the police myself!” “You forget that you would have to tell them about—the letters!” re- forted Mimi sullenly. . Mrs. Burton, stiffened. “Qh, what ke [shall T do" she moaned again, as the realization-of her. situation again broke upon her. “Even if Mimi has told you what she did with my cor- respondence, how .does it help us? ow are we'to get back the letters? And, ‘remember, unless they can be returned to me intact, without_ their contents: ‘becoming + known, I am ruined—ruined!” Mona ratted her encouragingly on the shoulder. “Mimi is going to te- deem herself by helpiy me to make the ‘acquaintance of Messrs. Runkle and entworth—and ,unless 1 am more mistaken than I ever was be- fore, 1 think’ I can promise, you a gratifying, report in the very near fu- ture!, To begin with, now that Mimi is out of your service, she is (oin’ to enter mine—for the time being.” She scribbled the address of their apastment on a card, and gave it to the hesitating maid. “I am trusting you absolutely! You will report to me this afternoon. If you so much as try. to warn either Runkle or Went- worth of what has. happened, I shall give you to the police—no matter what the results may be to Mrs. Burton!" For a moment she and Mimi stared into each other's eyes—Mona coldly determined, and Mimi fluctu- ating between a sullen defiance and fear. will won, and Mimi moved to the oor, “You will hear from me in the aft- ernoon,” she said. “And now, Mrs. Burton,” cried ened, as she went to her desk. “Here envelope, if it is what you want.” ona looked at it, and smiled. “It ived the osition of the ' Runkle, fme%uld understand how this had been done, and that T not” the only victim which The ‘attler had caught in its toils. He told that he hu“nypened to drop into : offices of the newspa- i accident, and while there &!k'xroo s of the article f;fi which was to have been this week's issue, Know- o before Mrs. will:do admirably.” Carrying the eq- yelope to the l‘ig t,bih’e dusted it wi& a portion of the black powder she had purchased. M: e a little as the lmpreulam‘gm fingers :nr{l a thumb showed. vaguely on the white paper. | My finger prints,” = excldimed Mona, “Now if you will kindly call Mimi again, Mrs. Burton, I think I er:.nlaromhe you some definite prog- Mimi's gaze openly expressed de- fiance as she answered :fl’ ring. 1 am sorry to troubld you,” said Mona, ndopung a'more conciliatory tone than she had used before, “In- deed. 1 am c‘:ite sure that I have wronged you in my suspicions, and 1 have cailed £ e ou in order to tell you I have done you an injustice. urton that I am ve her silver vanity box, 1l “to ‘the floor, almost at Mimi' feet. ' With a q:ile, the mi‘d .mp-éfi As the maid tainly. Mona carried powder ' Mre. _Burton's?” ped forward, and in doln“co which and recovered i “Thank you,” smiled Mona, hold- e box carefully by its edge. “Oh, st a moment, please,” she called as imi made a movement as though to &nued g uml::or- e vanit window, and dusted mo’;e o’; polished the im e: ?“l:‘ ! d thumlt 7 Bt lease give me mfi en- t The other obc;:; * 2Not ex ‘other, In the first place assistance. unkfe, must plead with the man, more time. money or pawn yor jewels—anyth to act. . Do you understand?” drowning person clutching at straw.” from which Ma even when Mimi put in a faithful to her-appointmen v in‘ to_retire for the night: that ::d spoken a dozen word: realized that her friend’s their problem. “Dick Carlton is dining with us to- morrow, isn’t he?” she asked. “You mean we are dining with him,” | back corrected Mary. I admit the “Well, Dic for my ‘confidential secr rlnion. and I am to light a ricl erous allowance to spen error,” smiled Mona. catch my drift?” “And I formatiol he Tattler!” cried Mary. In the end Mona's superior Mona as the door closed behind the ‘'you must do exactly as [ tell you, if you expect me to be of any you for Tell him anything you please—that you have to borrow {:e g to gain time until I have a chance “Perfectly,” agreed Mrs. Burton, dropping into a chair. “I am like a a Mona spent the remainder of the day in a silent, speculative study, did not arouse her, arance, It was not until the two girls were prepar- ona osomed herself, and before“-he a :‘ick w?; was beginning to see a solution of k is to enter our service e time being. You are to be and com- o weeata, ih ty ng married woman, wit! h hmlnd in Seattle, and & gen- as long as I behaye my-ell. Do you begin to m, of course, to sell in- ainst you to Runkle for “Not exactly, We'll determine that Help me to choose a point later. Whose wife am name for myself. I to be?” “You want a name that sounds like money and respectability,” said Mary reflectively. “Smith ¢ too common. So is Jones. How about Douglas?” “Splendid. Mrs. Steven Douglas of Seattle, on an excursion here to see the sights, and have a general good time, while hub is sticking close to the eternal grindstone to provide the wherewith! Now, if our young friend, Dick, comes up to specifica- tions I think we can consider the cast satisfactorily filled!” Dick Carlton, as the girls had con- fidently expected, entered into the spirit of their plans with a relish, and when Mona sketched the part he was to play—that of secretary to her hus- band, and more than slightly in love with herself—he accepted the role with alacrity, particularly the latter portion. o ot The next afternoon Mona, as Mrs. Douglas, with Mary as her secretary and Mimi as her maid, made a some- what specfaculary appearance at the Roanoake, one of the ‘select hotels of the city, and was assigned to a suite, which only the most generous. bank roll ¢ould have stood. The following. day Mrs. Burton, who had been noti- fied of the girl's assumed character, | invited her to a tea, at which she| was presented to'a group of the city’s socially and financially elect. Mona kept a sharp eye open for Reginald Wentworth, but that gentleman did not make an appearance. The next morning found several in- vitations to various affairs in her mail, and at a theater party that eve- ning she met for the first time the object of her plottings. Wentworth was a tall, wefi set up fellow in his early thirties, with a certain grace of manner. toward the fair sex, which had obviously won him mlng friends among women. He established him- self at Mona's side, and the girl pur- DOIE]¥ made herself agreeable to' him in a frank, open. manner, which kept Wentworth with her for the better part of fwo acts. On the following afternoon, Dick Carlton, registering as Raymond Dan- ields of Seattle, sauntered into the Roanoake, and that evening he es- corted Mona to another theater party, where he was duly presented to Mrs. Burton and her friends, including Wentworth, who showed ncly too freat a relish when the stranger calm- ly ap‘:raprined the rich young Mrs. Douglas for_the bulk of the evening. It was a part of Mona’s plan to give e impression that she and Carlton ‘were on terms of intimate flirtation, and she succeeded admirably. Early. in the following week she considered her preparations far enough advanced to proceed safely with the next step in her program. She called Mimi into their sitting room, and instructed the maid to make an appointment with the man, Runkle, for the park that afternoon at 2 o'clock. o “Hold him) there until Miss Hart- Iy arrives with Mr. Carlton,” directed M};nu “Give him any excuse necess sary. . Tell him that you see'a way b{ which you can make capital out of ‘my "supposed indiscr ny-: thing to keep him occupied until Miss Hartley is ready.” _ | Mimi nodded. She was beginning to hold this assured young woman in both fear and admiration. When the servant disappeared, Mona went over the final details of her contemplated denouement with Mary, rehearsing the latter until convinced there could be_no mistake. Promptly at 2 o'clock Mimi strolled to one of the park benches, over- looking. the main driveway, with Runkle—a stockily built, florid-faced man, with small, crafty eyes, which surveyed the maid's trim appearance speculatively. “You say that this Mrs. Douglas is young, and pretty—and rich?” He purred at the last word as the servant nodded viioroully. e “There is no .doubt that—" Mimi broke' off her sentence. ~A coupl were strolling down the path, engaged En an angry dialogue. ‘It was Mary nd Carlton, As they reached the bench, on which Mimi and her coth- anion were sitting, Mary suddenly groke away from Carlton in a torgent of weeping denunciation. > “You are ‘tired of me! You are throwin? me over for herl I know what is in_your heart! You shall re- gret it soon—very soon!” With that she tried to make a scornful toss of her pretty head; Mary staggered across to any empty bench. Carlton watched her for a moment in a cyn- ical silence, and lighted ‘& cigarette. “Perhaps it is better to have it over with!" he called after her, lifting 'his hat with a flourish, “At any rate, you know the truth now!” Without a backward glance, he strolled back down the path, leaving the weeping girl alone on the bench. For a mo- then lifted her head—to discover that she was alone, and that Carlton had disappeared. She rose to her feet, glanced wildly about her, and hesi- tatingly walked to the lake. Appar- ently she was about to throw herself into the water. Runkle, with a mut- tered oath, sprang across and graspe her arm. “None of that, young woman!” he snapped as Mary glared at him. “If he has thrown you over, there are far better ways of revenge than that!” Mary stared at him, as though not comprehending, while Mimj- hovered discreetly %‘n the background. At that moment the honk of an automobile horn sounded from the driveway, and the voice of Reginald Wentworth called across to Runkle. “If you will wait here &’ moment,” the latter said to Mary, “I should like to talk to you. And [ think a little interview might be of profit to both of ust” Mary fillnceq quickly at Went- worth, who was watching the scene curiously from the car, and dropped ack on her bench, indicating that she would wait. ‘The opportune ar- rival of Wentworth was a real piece of ‘luck. She was confident that her spectacular parting irom Carlton, and consequent desperation at his de- sertion, had efiectually blinded Run- kle—and had given her a logical l?- proach into the other's confidence. If she could deceive Wentworth as well half.of her battle would be won. She stole a glance at Minti; who was act- ing her role of curious servant girl to* perfection. A moment later she saw Runkle'’s stocky form leave Went- ment Mary sobbed convulsively, and{ HE OMAHA SUNDAY BEE: JUNE 18, 1916 The Social Pirates - Story No. 11—Fangs of the Tattler had reached a decision in regard to her. “Do you know Mrs. Steven Doug- las?” began Runkle. Mary simulated a look of deep bit- terness. 2 “Know her?” she snapped. “She is the creature who has stolen my sweetheart from me!l If it hadn't been for her nothing would have ever come between Raymond Daniels and me!” . 5 Runkle gave a grunt of satisfaction, “I am Mrs. Douglas’s confidential companion,” continued Mary vicious- ly. “And I always thought she was the best friend I had in the world until she threw me over for Raymond Dan- iels!” “Or he threw you over for her!” suggested Runkle maliciously. Mary sprang to her feet with a fresh burst of rage. “The cat! If there was only some way.in which I could even up with her, and make her suffer as she has made me!” “I thought Mrs. Douglas was the possessor of a husband,” said Runkle reflectively. “Or is that just gossip?” Mary. looked at him' musingly, and suddenly-her eyes snapped with satis- faction. 4 “1f Steven Douglas ever found out about his young and beautiful wife's flirtations with Raymond Daniels, his youthful secretary—" she stopped short, biting her lips at just the right point, and saw Runkle's eyes gleam. “Yes?” he encouraged. “And what would happen if he did?” . "Hap}gen?” cried Mary. “He would throw her off without a dollar! But he would have to be given actual roof. He is too wise to take gossip or_evidence—and too devoted?”- Runkle lighted a cigar, and smoked for a.moment in silence. “Would he pay for such evidence? he asked at length. b “What do you mean?” said Mary suspiciously. Runkle laughed. “Get wise! Get wise!” he chuckled. “Why not cash in to Douglas, and at the same time pay back the wifé for what she has done to you? It isn't often that a chance of that kind comes to a girl!” Mary fingered her hand ba, ously. “If 1 only dared!” she nerv- esitat- somely! But I don’t want the money. I'would be satisfied if I could pay back my debt to her—the treacherous hussy!” The gleam in Runkle’s eyes deep- ened. Around a bend in the road Wentworth’s automobile appeared leisurely, stopping opposite the bench. Runkle rose to his feet, and sauntered over to the road, where he talked for a moment with Wentworth, and then beckoned to Mary. The girl obeyed the summons with just the right de- gree of hesitation, and found Went- worth's eyes appraising her shrewdly as Runkle explained tne situation. She smiled up at him, and Wentworth moved over to the end of his seat, making room for her, “Won't you let me give you a lift?” he invited. “Then we can talk at our leisure.” i . q“y veiled her efdtion, and glanced at her watch i)eliutinglyt "f don’t -whether. 1 -ought - to - go~—"- kn'%onunu 1" ‘protested and the girl allowed herself to be per- ‘entworth, suaded. She knew that Runkle had told the other of their conversation, and that the man had taken this opportuni to study her for himself. It was: evi- dent that he was waiting for her to bring up the subject of Mrs. Douglas, but she studiously kept away from it, and at length he ‘was obliged to refer to the topic himself. , “Runkle tells me that you are living at the Roanoake with Mrs. Steven Douglas?” he began. “And that have been having some trouble. me about it!” Mary glanced. quickly from under her ‘eye-lashes. There was a genuine ring of interest in his voice, and she felt his eyes, traveling over her face and. figure approvingly as she un- bosomed herself, in more detail, of the details " which she had confided to Runkle. When Wentworth finally- in- structed the: chauffeur to stop, at a point near the Roanoake, he lingered in His good-byes, ana rorced her to consent to dine with him' the next eveiing. . She drew a long breath as the car finally rolled away, Wentworth wav- ing to her from the rear seat. She felt that she had conquered! With spark- ling eyes she hurried to their apart- ment in the Roanoake, and excitedly poured out the details of the afternoon to the i{nrltiently waiting Mona. The other girl hugged her impulsively at the conclusion,.and for a moment the two stared silently’into each other's eyes. ‘ “It is a risky game, dear!” said Mona wistfully. “But the goal is worth it!” returned Mary resolutely. Three weeks passed—three weeks of varying incidents. Mona's flirtation with Carlton, or young Daniels, as their new friends knew him, was be- ginning to attract more than casual attention, and more than once Mona caught the calculating eyes of Went- worth surveying them at the various affairs, where thex{chanced to meet. In the meantime, Mary's acquaintship with Reginald Wentworth was fast ell was apparent to the girl that the man was genuinely attracted to her, and the topic of Mrs. Douglas, and the was discussed between them now with ment of distrust, even for a Bohemian dinner. he looked up at her, and tappi wallet significantly, said: Bo you know priceless to myself—and a certain very much worried lady of seciety?” ng the zical smile. and be grateful for the chance!” telephone call duri dinner, and txclll‘:: conversation recurred to the worth's car, vi:iently the two men There- by his plate was the wallet, /Novelizntion by Hugh C. Weir ed. “Yes. I think he would pay—hand- |, ouy approaching a degree of intimacy., It supposed young wife’s indiscretions a direct candor and speculation. But there was a vague, indefinable ele- et in Went- worth’s manner, which the girl was at a loss to understand until one evening when the two motored out to a res- taurant on the outskirts of the. city During the.ride Wentworth care- lessly toyed with his wallet, which he had drawn from his pocket to refer to a memorandum it contained. Suddenly that its contents are almost Mary shook her head with a quiz- “I dare say that the lady in question yvqu_i redeem the half a dozen letters in this wallet for a thousand apieces- The subject dropped, and it was not until Wentworth received a sudden the course of the himself that t.hle irl. Plot by George Bronson Howard 13: - Copyright Kalem Company where in his haste he had forgotten it! For a moment she hesitated, and then her hand reached out stealthily to appropriate it. The instinct that whispered her a swirt warning she could not have explained, but she drew back hurriedly, leaving the wal- let undisturbed. Was it not possible that Wentworth had laid a clever trap to test her? It was inconceivable that a man accustomed to living by his wits, ‘would be careless enough to leave’ a $6,000 weapon of blackmail conspicuously an a restaurant table! A moment later Wenworth sauntered back, and his glance told Mary that her suspicions had been justified. With a low laugh he picked up the wallet, and turning it inside out, flung it back. It was empty! “Please accept my apologies for doubting you!” he said in a low tone. “But I couldn’t afford to take a chance —and if we are tq play the game to- gether, I must be absolutely certain that we are going to do it on the square!” Mary paled. How near she had been to a hopeless, fatal betrayal! When she rejoined Mona that night her mind was definitely made up. ghe would force the situation to a climax without further delay. She saw now that every day might hold fresh pit-| falls and new dangers. Until almost daybreak the two girls considered the various elements of “the game, and when they finally retired it was with the decision to stage the last act of their little drama that same night. It was nearly noon when Mary called up Wentworth at his apart- ments, and asked' hurriedly for an im- mediate interview. When he met her an hour later she imparted to him the intelligence that. Mrs. Douglas and Carlton, after the theater that night, were together in the former's apart- ment at the Roanoke. “And I have a plan which I think will give us what we have been schem- ing for!” ended Mary enthusiastically. For several moments she spoke swift- ly and nervously, and at the end Wentworth caught her. hand enthusi- astically. v “Splendid!” he cried, “I'll be ready when you are!” The die was cast! For just a moment Mary 'hevitated, and then she straightened her shoulders bravely. It was too late now to draw ack. It was just before 11 o'clock that night when the telephone in the apart- ment of Mary and Mona announced the arrival of Wentworth in the lobby. Mary asked him to come up at once. She was alone. Mona-had left for a theater with Carleton shortly after a 7 o'clock dinner, 'leaving Mary to put the finishing touches to the last act they had planned in their little drama. She received Wentworth at the door, and with a show of secrecy, conducted him through the living room into an inner bed room. Wentworth glanced ardund him cu- riously, and his eyes lighted as he noted a camera, and flash light ap- paratus, already in position, and trained on the living room. “All that we need now is to wait until she and Daniels are seated at their tete-a-tete supper—and then light the powder. The camera will do the rest!” chuck/led Mary in apparent glee. o ‘ “And we will sell the plate to the highest bidder!” said Wentworth with a grimness which showed that he at least was in deadly earnest. “Hush!” cautioned Mary suddenly, catching his arm, as a key turned in the hall lock. The next moment Mona and Carlton entered the suite, and the latter removed his companion’s wraps with a show of tenderness, yhich made Wentworth imile again in, AUCTIO barn (or garage) in rear. $1,500. Beautiful shade in the finest hardwoods street, paving all pal‘d_. ranty deed. For further tthought of a rush for liberty, which Kountze Place Homes The following properties will be sold at aue- tion to the highest bidders for cash on Saturday morning, June 24th, at 10 a. m. It is absolutely necessary to sell these properties at once, as plans have been completed for the erection of a $50,- 000.00 building ‘for the Old People’s Home, and, while properties offered at this sale were be- queathed to the Old People’s Hbme Association - for'that purpose, the ground space was found to be . too small, and subsequently a larger tract was do- nated to the Home by George A. Joslyn and wife. . 2018 Wirt Street. 8-room frame house, all modern with good duplicated for $4,000. Lot 50x124, is easily worth 2016 Wirt Street. A 9-room, all modern, brick residence, to- gether with brick barn (or garage) and frame gar- age with quarters above for chauffeur. Kine cement driveway up to garage: House is finished large, sunny and well arran; cost at least $25;000 and lot Lot 50x124, Just east of the above des and covered with all kinds of s tiful trees; easily worth $1,500 Remember, the sale takes morning, June 24th, at 10 a. m, Terms, $250 de- posit at date of sale; remainder of ‘abstract, showing merchantab Old Peoples Home Association MRS. E. R. HUME, Chairman Building Committee Walnut 3307, anticipation. A tcmgling lunch of cold, viands had already been set on a table’ Carlton took the seat which Mona in- dicated and edged his chair closer to her, as she inspected the articles of the menu. Neither had glanced toward the bed room. “Now!” whispered Mary. Wentworth softly struck a match and dropped it into the powder, as Mary flung aside the heavy tapestries, screening the entrance to the living room, The bright flash of the powder mingled with a cry of fright from Mona—and Wentworth stepped into the outer room, smiling cfym:llly. But his_smile was suddenly frozen. Carlton was facing him with s drawn revolver. “Hands up!” snapped the young actor™ Wentworth whirled about—to con- front a second revolver in the hands of Mary. The girl laughed at the scow! of rage on his face. : “Caught with the goods!” she mocked. Wentworth bit his lip, glancing cov- ertly around him in an effort to meas- ure his chances of escape. But he was shrewd enough to realize that the trap ». was secure. “You devil!” he growled as Mary laughed again. - “That will do!” commanded Carl- ton. “The game's up. We've got you fair, and we mean to hold youl %Ve know your connection with The Tat- tler, and your own judgment must tell you that we have evidefice enough of your blackmailing methods to send you to prison for more yefrs than you would probably care to reckon!” “What do you want?” glowered Wentworth. “First—Those letters of Mrs. Bur- ton, and next your promise to put The Tattler out of business and remove yourself from this vicinity.” “Which means, of course, immunity from the law?” sneered Wentworth. “Not . quite!” It was Mary who spoke. “You are forgetting the ex- penses of the case—and the money you have made us spend to get you where we wanted you! I think five thousand would about cover it. You can give us a check. I think we can take it for granted that you won'’t stop payment!” ( Wentworth swore, clenched his hands as though meditating a bolt for it—and then bowed ironically. “You win—with my compliments!” Mona stepped to the telephone and ordered a taxicab. “We may as well wind up the busi- ness in hand now. We'll accompany you to The Tattler sanctum—if you don’t mind.” “As you will,” said Wentworth in- differently, The quartet descended by way of the elevator, Carlton keeping his re- volver in_his outer coat pocket, with the muzzle protrudin tgrough the cloth at an angle, which dissipated any Wentworth might have entertained. Twenty minutes later they were in the dingy, paper-littered office, in which the questionable activities of The Tattler were conducted. 4 Wentworth stepped to a safe in the corner, spun the krob ‘and ‘tossed a thin packet of letters' on the table. (The End) Uncomfartable Honors. In 1862 an intimate friend of Mr, Lin- coln visited him In Washington, finding him rather depressed in spirits as_ the re- sult of the reverses repeatedly suffersd by the federsl troops. “This belng president fen’t all It is sup- posed to be, is it, Mr. Lincoln?" asked the . flashed Lincoln 'with - twinkling eyes; “I feel like the Irishman who after being ridden on a rail sald: ‘If it wasn't for the honor av th' thing T'd rather ‘ountry Gentleman. N SALE \ The house could not be trees in front. obtainable. Rooms are ged. Improvements is 75x124 on paved cribed brick house, hrubbery-and beau- lace Saturday cash on delivery c le title and war- information call,