Omaha Daily Bee Newspaper, June 19, 1916, Page 12

12 SEVENTH INSTALLMENT. Freneau in his office going over the morning’s mail was in a beastly temper, He snapped at his clerk | when that cheery young man wished . him a bright ‘Good morning.” He * made short work of the mildly flir- tatious stenographer’s attempt to be- gin the day Lreezily f r him. » The air of the office was clouded with Freneau's gloom when his part- | ner, Mulry, entered gayly and slapped | him on- the back. The clerk and stenographer paused, expectant, but! before he spoke to Mulry, Freneau | snarled to them: | L * “Get out and stay out till 1 send * for yon" They got out, Mulry was amused at his friend’ temper. He chuckled: “Wrong | side of the bed this' morning, old | bear? What seems to be your little | trouble now?" Freneair rose, threw his cigar away, | stuck his hands in his nockets, and, pacing the’ floor, proceeded to ac- quaint Mulry with the dire state of is love affairs. Mulry continued to be mildly ammused until he realized that their financial security was again ~ at stake; then he became serious at | once. i@ Freneau told him that Lois Staf- ford, whom he was attempting to get rid of, had learmed of his engage- ment to her sister-in-law, Glotia, and had become unmamageable, - “She threatened that, unless I gave up my proposed marriage, she will confess the whole affair and then kill herself.” «Principally this meant to Mulry that the firm would have to refund the large sum of money Freneau had just borrowed from Gloria’s father on the strength of the engagement, Mulry began pacing the floor also, chewing his t last he chewed out an plke I!: him. e ake the trip to the branch officers in my place, 'and take your fair tormentor along.. Perhaps you " can appease her and get her into a - reasonable state of mind i | | ; | | | th mm. He shook his head in dc:5 Mulry urged. i "At least it would gain time for ", y"No, out of the' question; try mln, Freneau snapped. “She is go- to the Catskills for a,week and she insists on my tagging ‘along.” llulz rubbed his head. His mas- sage seemed to conjure up another idea, for he began to rummage rough his desk. He beckoned to eau to come over to him and held delightedly a_handful of miscel- s papers. Freneau looked and saw merely a number of sheets of writing paper and envelopes from us big hotels about the country. ; )fl'a me|an :o&hhs to lllm.M i Mulry laughed and swung his huge lk-back in the swivel chair till ge t capsized ‘it. Freneau, saving from a fall, demanded the reason the vy outburst. Mulry waved blank “sheets of paper ‘and en- p nlhim and exfillir{neld: : ‘When 1 s t a hotel I alwa; m:_l' a lot 'oY paper and enveyl! “Yes? And what have r par- simonious habits to do with our pres- ent trouble?” queried Freneau pa- tly. lu{ry was disgusted. “Why, don't see, you poor Don Juan? You e these letterheads and write love on them to your sick fiancee. [ take them with me and mail them the different towns I make. Miss Stafford will think you are Meanwhile you can go away ~ the Catskills ‘and meet' your blesome Lois. If you can't rig u e story to get your letter gut a her ‘and o o r your marriage, why you're not the little bright eyes I always took u for. S:ied now?"H o4 reneau see. He was not en- ‘thusiastic, but this seemed the only possible way to tide over the present tf in his way to the harbor of mat- mony. At least it w chance and would use it. It was the only one dared to tr: Freneau was dishonorable, Freneau unmistakably an adventurer and at the world calls a cad, but he born of gentle people; he had d blood in his veins, as his world- graces showed. He truly adored and wanted only her. There ! torment in the agonies he ured fearing the s of her ugh his previous sins. His pun- t was not far off and he was meet it with neither peaceful hts nor clear conscience, He d enmeshed himself in so complex ‘web of intrigue and wrongdoing it the problmhof escape was ever ore complex. He had couirage of a and a great belief in his own r es. But he was growins skep! il of his ability to fight so many ene- at once, 0 knows? If Gloria had been a n, when he first saw her, the she now was, instead of the d then. she might have saved his | and his life. But he had to take present as the past gave it to and hope for a future of more ightforward life. that night in his apartment pean started the batch of love let- and telegrams for Gloria, He interested in them, and so d away by the fervor he infused | them that early dawn and his found him asleep at last with head resting on sheets of paper bore such messages as: Dear Darlmt Gloria: As T tele- hed you, 1 arrived safely, but ed you terribly. « T snce will seem an eternity.” s was on a letterhead of the | Ten Eyck in Albany. Others 3 from other hotels. The ‘he had written was on the of the Fort Pitt hotel, Pitts- “In it he said: _eternity of this long week is i eep her quiet until e WHEN MULRY TOOK THE TRAIN HE WAS WELIL PLEASED THE BEE: OMAHA, MONDAY, JUNE 19, 1916. WITH THE NET WORK OF LIES THAT HE AND FRENEAU HAD WOVEN TO DECEIVE GLORIA. pale and somewhat weak. She sub- mitted, rather than invited, the in-law kiss that Lois brushed over her cheek. Then she turned to David and pouted: “Oh, dear, some people have all the luck. - You are going to hear Geraldine Farrar in ‘Madame Butter- fly,” while I must lie here doing noth- ing. They won't even let me read, the stingy old things!” she made a mouth at her nurse .“And I do de- spise to be read to. Just wait until 1 get out of their clutches. I'll make up for this; I'll be Madame Butterfly all over the place.” David smiled at her innocence in the allusion to Butterfly, but neither he nor Gloria knew that Lieutenant Pinkerton was a white woolly lamb compared to Gloria's own lover, Fre- neau. Lois had moved away from Gloria toward the bedside table, where a framed photograph of Freneau looked tauntingly at her. A jealous desire for possession came over her, She longed to take the image of the man from Gloria as well as the man him- self. The whim became immediately a necessity to her, She glanced across at the {roup about Gloria. No one was looking her way. A smile curled at the corners of her lips and a tri- umphant gleam shot for a moment into her handsome, sullen eyes as she slipped the picture into her opera bag. is was utterly maddened and desperate in her passion for Freneau now, for the knowledge that she was to lose him made her utterly ruth- less to herself as to all who might stand in the way of her last days with him, She hardly knew what she was doing; she had but one idea on earth. Even if she had known of the anonymous letter her husband had received, and of the suspicions aroused in Royce's mind, it is doubt- ful if she would have acted differ- ntlfiv. She must be alone with Freneau uninterrupted to plead with him to ive up Gloria and to run away with er—or, failing that, to get back her Freneau and his about her., ~ Royce heard her saying: “At midnight by the pavilion, near the soldiers’ monument. I'll be there. Don't fail me.” Royce dropped the curtains noise- lessly and stepped back as David ap- proached, talking briskly. Royce was thankful for the sound; it would give the vulgarly guilty pair time to separ- ate and spare David a hideous knowl- edge, at least for the time being. Royce and David entered, and Lois greeted her husband warmly. Royce sickened at the sight. He would not speak; but he refused Freneau's hand. reneau, a trifle jolted, said that he had dropped in to inquire about Gloria. After a few minutes he left, Royce said he would go along, as he had something to discuss with Fre- neau. \ He told David that he would see him later, and for very pity did not look him in the eye. But he gave Lois a meaning look of wonder at her evil recklessness. Then he followed Freneau with wrath boilin& in his heart. Wifhout waiting for an invitation, he jumped into Freneau's car, and as soon as it was under way Royce burst forth: “You infernal hound! You couldn’t play fair if you tried, could you? And you wouldn't, would you? But now you've got to give up Gloria and get on the other side of the globe or {ou‘ll wish you had never been born know what you are up to and I ad- vise you not to undertake it. I niean it. warn you that I will stop at nothing to rpevent you from wreck- ing both of those homes,” . A spark of manhood flickered yet in Freneau's soul, and he attempted to explain in some part his own help- lessness, but Royce cut him short. The facts as he had seen them per- mitted no explanation, “Of course you won't listen; you want Gloria yourself. You are only oo anxious to get me out of the way. Jetters and gain time to reconstruct her life and recover from her loss. The next morning, as she was go- ing over Freneau's letters, her father dropped in unexpectedly. One of Fre- neau's envelopes had fallen to the floor unnoticed by Lois, The judge stooped to pick it up for her. ¢ saw Freneau's name and, trained as he was in the wiles of criminals, he suspected Lois at once and flatly ac- cused her of an intrigue with Freneau. She merely flonced away in a temper, saying: ‘I am old enough to take care of myself, If you want to believe evil ?‘y your own daughter—why, believe L "She_left Judge Freeman dumb- founded and distracted. In the aft- ernoon, while David was at his office, the®worried father again visited Lois to tr softer ‘words. In the hall he But don’t let your jealousy drive you absolutely insane.” Royce stopped the car and got out. “I've warned you,” was his parting 'shat. All the rest of the day Royce pon- dered over where his own duty in th ematter lay. He could not tell Gloria what he had seen, The shock might have thrown her back into a fever. ‘He could never bring himself to smirch her love and young faith in his rival's honor. He could not put the responsibility and the horror of full knowledge on his friend David, nor cast the burden on David's old father. It was not Royce's nature to shift responsibilities on other should- ers. Theré seemed to me only one way: He alone knew everything; he alone must save the Stafford family from scandal, But how? He tried to clear his brain by for- houseman carrrying a trunk 1 s for'thé¢ express. ‘Freneau had adyised Lois to send her baggage by train and motor up with him in the Catskills. 3 Judge Freeman took the liberty of reading the tag on that trunk. He saw that it was checked to Blendike, a village m the Catskills. Going to Lois’ room, he questioned her. She answered that as David was going away that eveninfleshe thought she would run out to Lenox to visit Aunt Kate. “Aunt Kate has gone to Florida, as you know,” her father answered ltemlg; / “1 forgot, but anyway, I have to get off by myself for a few days; my nerves are in ribbons. - Please leave me alone,” Lois said, and burst into tears. ' Again her father left her, his anx- iety .greum than before, . . . ‘When Dr. Royce made his morning call on his beloved patient, Gloria, he found her still progressing toward complete recovery from her illness. But her spirits did not seem joyous as they should be. He thought bit- terly that this might be due’to his orders that she should not be allowed the letters, wonderi flh‘mw"m thenm.' _office, and the took his train ' to carry out plots in to see Frene He told her that he withdrew the embargo and her rap- ture confirmed his fear That afternoon he chanced to be f)ullng Davyid Stafford’s home just as avid stepped from his car, David reeted him warmly and insisted on s coming into the house. Royce was owt of his coat and hat before David had finished glancing at some lettera the butler gave him. As he gemnz. He took up a medical book or study, but. between his eyes and the page came a vision oT; reneau as a leerln“.Snln. It laughed and mocked at him, seeming to say: “I will destroy Gloria and Lois and David, and you cannot stop me.” Royce jumped up and closed his book.. a look of set purpose coming to his grim face. It was nearly mid- night when he took from the drawer of his desk table a revolver and sl|wed it ‘into his pocket, hen Royce met David, David had not told him that he was leav- ing town for a week. David was not sure what would happen, and Lois was the only one he wanted to de- ceive. She was so buisly duping him that she had no thought of his re- turning the compliment. It was diffi- cult for him to play the part he had assumed, and if she had been more on the alert she would have seen the constraint in his manner, She fllyed her own role with the ease of long practice. There was nothing sincere about her exgept her foy in Pavid's deRarturcA She thought that nothing in the world could have been more opportune. But she wanted to make sure that no accident befell him. She did not want him to miss that train, _ She went to the Pennsylvania sta- tion with him, acting the _heart- broken, deserted wife with &l her art. She bade him gooyby at the gate and when he went down stairs to the train underground she still would not leave till she saw the roofs of the cars move of and the porter who carried David's :::rnle come back. Then she felt it his {emples‘ Lois' arms were about | into the tunnel’ Gloria’s Romance " Y “w o A SMILE CURTED AT THE CORNERS OF HER LIPS, AND A TRIUMPHANT GLEAN SHOT FOR A MOMENT INTO HER HAND- SOME, SULLEN EYES AS SHE SLIPPED THE PICTURE INTO HER OPERA BAG. train had” pulled out. David, making sure that she had not caught sight of him, took his miserable doubts with him to one of his clubs. Judge Freeman found him there, and, noting his expression, asked him what had kept him from taking his train. When David saw his father-in-law the smoldering of his trouble burst into flame. He snatched the anonymous letter from his pocket and was on the verge of showing it. But he withheld it, though he could not check the bitter words: “If this letter is true I may have to kill a man,” An icy hand seemed to grip at the judge’s heart. He knew without see- ing it what that letter said. He put his hand on David's arm and was about to speak, when a man slapped him on the back. He turned to face the club’s most notorious bore, nick- named the “White Man's Burden. The fellow was fat and even more impervious to snubs than usual, as he had been drinking hgavily. Judge Freeman tried to escape him, but as the Burden had him clasped by the lapel of his coat it was impossible to get away ‘at once without knocking him down. So the judge stood the repetition of an ancient story as well as he could, waiting only for the loosening of the grip on his coat, which-came with the roar of laughter the Burden emitted at the end of his yarn. The judge turned to rejoin David, but found him gone. He started at| once in terrified pursuit. David meanwhile had fled to hi own house, where he watched on the outside, eavesdropping on his o property. Presently he saw 1 silhoutted against the light in her | own roomh She was taking off her| hat and coat. The poor young man felt calmed of his fears. She was home. She was taking off her things and she was alone. It was bit- ter cold in the street, so he returned | to his club in chastened mood, call-| ing himself names and glad that he owed Lois an apology. He did not quite dare to face her with it just yet. He would watch her another day, . David had seen Lois divest herself of hat and coat, but ha easily reassured, for she exchanged them for a fur hat and coat, in the ocket of which she had slipped ‘reeman’s letters, Judge Freeman, arriving fifteen minutes after David had gone, rang the bell and was admitted by Lois’ butler, who teld him that she had left the house on foot a few momentc before, The butler did not know where she had gone or when she would return, The judge dashed off, leaving the butler to shake his head been too ! By Mr. Rupert Hughes venge, but so far he had been unre-| | warded. Unable to run down Freneau | elsewhere, he picked on the Pier- pont Stafford home as the most like- |1y and also the most fitting place to accost him. It was there that he had first seen Freneau in New York. He| stood by the iron-barred gate, watch- ing, until a policeman drove him away. Then he c_ro:scd Riverside irive to the Soldiers’ and Sailors’ mounment and resumed a more dis- tant watch over the house. Freneau was indeed there; he had come to bid Gloria goodby. He told | her he was leaving on a midnight train. Gloria was reclining on the chaise longue, exquisitely attired in an ivory- colored lace peignoir, the bands of white swansdown which -trimmed it no whiter than her own fair skin, Her beautiful hair, drawn lightly into a knot at the top of her little head, made hér look more like-a child play- ing at being grownup than she had a right to look with all her twenty-one vears, Freneau had paused a moment at and Mrs. { much?”—then, : |arms wide and purring | them about her The Copyright, 1916, by the door when he entered to enjoy the charm of her, then he crossed to her side with all a lover's eagerness. Her eyes heamed on him with tend- erness as she welcomed him and gave him her lips. . “How much do you love me?” she queried, measuring an infinitesimal space with her tiny hands, “That stretching her two forth her musical laugh—"Or that much?” Freneau came within the circle of her arms, holding her to him, ex- claimed: “The width of the whole world is not big enough to measure my love for you.” "And he meant it. Releasing her tenderly to her pil- lows on the couch, he continued: “I've had such a wonderful day on the market, Gloria. I cleaned up a pile. By Jove, it was thrilling. If I can only keep this up you won't have to be ashamed of your poor husband. And, thank God, I shall have you to work for. Just see what I've brought my little mascot with the first spoils of war.” He tossed a leather case into her lap. Opening two shrine-like doors, Gloria gurgled in delight at the string of pearls within. She made him clasp throat. Then she leaned forward to thank him with a kiss; she saw the corner of a large sealed enveloge in his inner pocket. She pulled it forth impudently. “What's this? More business, or love letters?” A dull motled red began to surge up Freneau’s face. She spoke so much truer than she knew. It was the packet of letters he was taking | to Lois. He had pocketed them to make sure that he should not leave them behind. “Just business documents connected with my trip,” he said, as naturally zs he could. Gloria accepted the ex- planation in perfect faith. It.did not occur to her to suspect him of any deciet. She put the envelope back, in his pocket, making a little gesture of disgust, “Ugh! I hate your ‘old business! How long must you be away?” “One whole week, dearest little love,” he murmered brokenly. “I'm afraid it will never pass for me, but take good care of your precious self, and get those wonderful roses back in your cheeks. I will write and tele- graph you every day.” . Then his face darkened and he hung his head before her as he added: “I can't give you any address to write to me, as I shall be jumping about so, but I'll telephone you.” When the hour grew late and the nurse began to froyn he told her he must leave. She stood up sadly and they clung together for a last embrace. He felt that he could not let her go. The cup of his happiness was a cup of bitterness filled with the dregs of his own perfidy. Freneau went to his rooms in a new mood. Gloria's trust had touched him more than Royce's threats. He was furious at himself and at Lois. He started to the telephone to call her up and tell her to do her worst, he would not go away-with her. As he was about to take the receiver off the hook he looked at his watch. It was late; she would have started for their trysting place by now. He caught a glimpse of himself in a mirror and loathed the face he saw. He vowed that he would redeem his soul. He would begin at once. He would meet Lois at the pavilion and tell her that he would carry no fur- ther the chains of intrigue. On his way to the little classic stone pavilion near the Soldiers’ and Sailors' monument, where Lois had agreed to meet him, his car broke down. He took that as a further rea- son for not making the journey. He left the chauffeur to correct the trouble and went ahead on foot. Gloria had retired after Freneau left her, but lay tossing about on her pillows unable to sleep. The moon Wage s of Sin Novelized from the Motion Picture Drams of the Same Name bY orge Xleine. PEATURING THE NOTED STAR, MISS BILLIB BURKE, Adelaide M. Hughes. was pouring white glamour on her window. The night nurse, sitting up- right by her bed, was sleeping sound- ly. She had won Morpheus because she was spurning him instead of courting him. Gloria determined to try the same method herself. Doctor Royce, who seemed to think of everything, had, during her illness, made her a present of a pair of binoculars, She had been able to while away many tedious hours with them watching the traffic on the drive and boats on the river. ow she slipped into a negllgec and slippers quietly, not to disturb her sleeping sentinel. She took “up the binoculars and moved to the win- dow. The moon cast such a glow on the river that she drew in deep breaths of delight. The columns of the monument stood in the fore- ground like marble trees clustered about a little templee. | Suddenly her attention was caught by the curious behavior of a man who seemed to be skulking about the monument. He had his hat pulled down and his overcoat collar pulled |up and she could not see his face. | He was appanently waiting for some- one. She saw him take from his pocket something that looked to her like a revolver. Gloria was greatly excited. Before she could decide what to do the skulkeer walked away. She saw another man come around the |column and crouch down for a mo- ment. She put up the glasses to see more clearly. The figure moved forwa(d beneath a street lamp and Gloria could see distinctly a wild and beard- ed face. A shudder went through her: unconsciously she drew her robe closer about her. : Turning her glasses dowh the drive, she saw a third man approaching. He looked vaguely familiar. Coming closer, he stopped to light a’cigar. It was Freneau! She realized it' with astonishment. She wondered if he had missed his train. He saw that she looked out of her window. Before she could wave to him a figure sprang. from. the shadows and leaped upon Freneau, long hands clutching his throat. ' Gloria tried to cry out. She could not make a sound. Subconsciously her hands kept their grip on the binoculars and held them to her eyes that she might see the whole of the tragic spectacle. The struggle htat ensued seemed impossibly unreal. Surely she was in some hideous nightmare. But the fight went on. No policeman arrived to interfere. Then suddenly it was over. She saw Freneau's limp body fall to the ground, saw his enemy raise his hands toward the sky and then hurry away. And still Gloria could not give vent to her terror, she could only watch helplessly. Now the first man she had seen came back along the drive, saw Freneau's body, knelt down quickly and listened to his heart. Gloria was sure that he would help her lover. She continued to gaze, though her strength was ebbing away. Instead of rendering aid, the shadowy figure began to ransack Freneau’s pockets. He found the en- velope of letters and put them in his own pocket. Then, startled by the approach of a third man, he also vanished. The third man came on openly. Gloria felt sure that she would either waken from her nightmare or that aid was at hand. She used all her will to control her reeling senses. The newcomer did not even see Freneau till he stumbled over the prostrate form. He knelt down by it, seemed to beesaghast at recognition. Then he, too, began to search through Freneau's ockets. Then Gloria screamed. Shriek after shriek burst through the silence oi the Stafford home. (To Be Continued.) 18th and Cass th end Haraey Street RUNNING FRE RY road is a free road to the car with its motor “ smoothly lubricated with POLARINF, thé Standerd Oil for All Motors. ; Polarine means less friction, less carbon, less depreciation. Pure, uniform, clean-bodied, with full lubrication in every drop. Look for the sign. Good dealers show it SERVICE STATIONS IN OMAHA Street 3%th and Farnam Street 45th and Grant Street S1st Street and Dodge Street 24th nd 1 Bereen Bov Side STANDARD OIL COMPANY (NEBRASKA) OMAHA . ] ’&?flf‘ Judge | felt thoroughly at home here, Royce [safe an ‘the opera|went ahead to the living room, He |tion with a sigh of deep relief. to see | thought he heard a murmur of voices. | If she had been a Tutle less im. sit- Pn_rtml_tlm curtains, he saw some- [patient she would have seen David till | thing that made the blood pound fn:retm’n through the gate after the e and she departed from the sf over the scandalous proceedings of lus hm.ueh 1d. - - . - o . Gideon Trask, the bargeman, had infinite patience in pursuit of his re- & L]