Omaha Daily Bee Newspaper, July 23, 1916, Page 20

'8 riches for the average man or woman, 4—C BOOK II. /. “THE UNDERWORLD.” Chapter III, “The Weakling.” The tenth marquis of Castleton found the transition from the grime of the Plainfield steel works and the squalor of a fifth-rate American boarding house to the ordered mag- nificence and trim beauty of an Eng- lish aristocrat’s surroundings a good deal more trying than he expected. Granted good health and a true zest An life, it is questionable whether pov-! erty is not a far happier state than At any rate, once the legal formalities connected with the succession to the, title were gotten over, the newly fledged marquis found himself bored to weariness by the ceremonious state in which he was compelled to live. I Life a big London hotel was pleas- ant enough. The great establishments which cater for the passing guest used to be patronized so extensively By Americans before the war that their methods and ways had been al- most unconsciously adapted to trans- atlantic standards. Even when the out- _ break of hostilities replaced the flood of ordinary visitors with army of- ficers and their relatives, the atmos- glere of the hotel did not change. en, weather permit(inz. there was sznyl the infinite variety of old Lon- to fill the daylight hours, while scores of theaters offered rival at- tractions for the evening. It \was only when the stalwart young marquis traveled to his coun- try seat in the Midlands, and endeav- ored to make himself at home among a people whom he felt that he ought to consider as his own kith and kin, that his troubles really began. He was awed into submissive silence by a most superior estate agent. His ten- ants insisted on regarding him as a hamorist merely because he spoke | _ with an American accent. He was 3 kly afraid of the portly butler, who seemed to- watch every mouth- _ ful he ate, and disapprove in silent| 7 M{pr of his table: manners, & o th blanched strange yet in- t environment b blood made iu& to the United t wealth and higl He thought, therefore, &5‘. deal with c problems effectually in the land of his than in-a country whose reoplc id ways were as yet distinctly for- M54 1 dvop the e snd thus svod - Cided 2, &n us avoi / the snobbery which besets the path even in a land of de- ) and |and that's all there is eeking the serv- ced mentor. What was the kindly sa- endent either to seek 1d to its direction if it e, like every other ong nature, he paid in for t e ce. h, he fancied he would in tment if he lessons. Without asking 's advice, he went to the first city he could hardly have fallen hands than gou of: Prof. i, a tall, y, slenderly Italian who a certain ex- in his art with a crafty and ature that sought victims his wealthier s. t John h: n to a the- seen some new play presented a glnyeho\o ical prob- ,m-n nn'fm iar angle. enae- eeling restless, he de- ded to oic and think out a per- Jexing situation on the lines sug- by the dramatist, He entered fibrary, a favorite room wherein d” always secure a certain ant replace. But the floor was arpeted, and his movements t that when a slight rasp- yme from the dining room worth a cent when I tested it in actual “U“Gentleman Joe. It's a nickname, a girl flood of moonlight rendered the' terior sufficiently visible for objects to be distinguished with clearness. John caught a side-long view of a man fur- tively examining the silver on the side- board. The raised window told the rest of the story. It was easy to calculate the distance for an effective spring. Before the would-be thief well knew what was happening, the outraged owner of the house had him pinned to the floor, Incidentally, the marauder had re- ceived such a blow on the jaw that he was knocked into momentary insensi- bilit{v. Thereupon John picked him up, first running his hands lightly over the man’s clothes to make sure he was not-carrying a revolver. Then hg car- ried the burglar into the library, put him in a chair near the table, and switched on the light. Without further ado, he went to the telephone and called for the police station. “Busy,” said the exchange operator, | ‘but I'll call you just as soon as they | are through.” “All right,” said John, turning his attention to the captive, who showed | signs of reviving.' | On the table stood a plate of daint- ily made sandwiches and a glass of milk. John’s habits were irregular at times, and his servants had orders to leave some light refreshment avail- able at night in case he felt sleepless and decided to sit up and read. The burglar’s face invited scrutiny. Its general expression spoke of in- tellectuality and gentleness. The chin was weak, the forehead lofty, the nose straight and well-formed, the mouth flexible and tender as a -woman's, Otherwise, the man was an unsavory object. His clothes were those of the poverty-stricken, and his person was unkempt. John noticed that his hands were well shaped and obviously un- used to hard work. When the man recovered his wits, a singular thing happened. His eyes seemed to be fascinated by the itght of the food. With a sublime indiffer- ence to all other considerations, he stretched out trembling fingers, grabbed a sandwich, and ate it vora- ciously. John let him do it, and watched him. Then he swallowed some of the milk, and seized another sandwich. At that moment the tele- phone bell rang, The metallic jangle startled the thief into full conscious- ness, He ‘(ued up at John with a dawning look of terror that was pitiful in its abasement. Evidently, he under- stood what the ring of that bell meant, But he did not ltor eating. On the contrary, he was only more eager to devour the rest of the food on the late. John watched him with increas- g amazement, The bell rang again. He picked up the receiver, but put it back on its hook; then he moved closer to his prisoner and gazed at him curious! “You're oor sort” of thief,” he said, (By this time the man had emptied tge plate.) “What you seem to mn{ i{v restaurant. ere you s that why you were try- al? “You'd better finish the rest of the milk,” said John. el The man ‘gazed up with a flicker of astonishment on his eyes, However, he took the milk and set down the emptied glass. ‘Now, I'm ready,” he muttered. “Guiess you'better zrinl along those cops. ‘Iou'u a white man, and I'm glad 1 didn’t get clear with any of r stuff, But !heg'll put me away {or five years, just the same. A poor dhc:‘i‘l me hasn't got a dog's chance.” “Why do you say that?” John in- uired. f “Because it's the cold, hard truth,” was the stolid answer. }ohn drew up a chair and sat down. “Tell me,” he said. “You're not going to play the mis- ol act, I hope? I'm through with it ere was a minister in my last THE OMAHA SUNDAY BEE: JULY 23, 1916. “The Grip of Evil”’ | his companion in the miseries and MORETTI FORCES GERTRUDE TO AGREE TO TRAP BURTON. e she heard my sentence. been all in ever since.” “How about the next five years?” inquired Burton, “What do you think?” said Drake bitterly. “Prison doesn't reform a It taught me to be a sure- enough criminal. A cellmate put me up to a few wrinkles but we didn't make mukth show in the profession. We were let out together, were grab- bed on our first job, and I was sent again—this time for fi ot hold of me help, to go Itrlil'hl. But “I've been out now a month, I tried to get a job in'an office. The boss wouldn't even listen when I told him somethini made a break at a the foreman looked 0 he turfied me couldn't even sit in the park that a cop didn’t come along and tell me to get a move on. dollars I had when I left the cooler soon melted. My heart simply burnt with hate against eyerybody in the I was an outcast, and felt like one. Tonight I saw “What about Gertrude? Drake started, and his worn face h a sort of dignity. ess I've done my worst dy,” he said.” “I wasn't go- into her life, poor girl!” rward and hid his face in the thin, nervous, delicate rovided such a copi- ous indexe to his character. ime a silence, broken sobs, reigned in the room. Then Burton said quietly: our head, Joe Drake, and imagine yours: oing to give you a chance. You'll leave here tonight with B EEIH maman ‘| but it's my duty to stir your gray mat- only by Drake' GERTRUDE BROOKS HEARS THE DOOM OF A JAIL SENTENCE PRONOUNCED UPON HER SWEETHEART. prison, and eemed to reel off a But. it .didn’t pan out fact. So, back I go to tl:: ?giunuuy. The man’s words sounded hard and defiant, but thcx held an’ undertone of sadness and despair, i “That's for me to decide,” said John firmly. “There's no fearful hurry ahout it anyhow. You're not a real expert at this game, you know. See what you can do with an honest story. But eliminate the l{mtligu and slow music. It won't go. First, what's your name?” and not a very good one at that, but it's (ha only one ['ve known for seven y“.“!‘ry back eight, then” “Well, if you must have it, when 1 raduated from Yale and entered the l‘im National bank in my home town, 1 was known to quite a crowd of peo ple as Joseph Lawrence Drake. I was engaged to be married, too, to as nice as ever lived. Now, look at me. A nice mess I've made of it, haven't 1" itk “Sp it would seem,” said John dryly. “Well, what's the use? G ahead, get busy with the telephone.” “You make me tired,” said John. ank, and a pretty girll good start for a play. “It's God's truth, anyhow,” protest- od Drake fircely. “You won't believe it, perhaps, but my first \.mlk came about through Gertrude's moth She was suffering from tuberculo but could be cured if given proper attention. The family was not well fxed financially, so I helped a bite— not much, but enou‘h to reduce the size of my wad. tried to even things up in a poker game. It all ocenrred in one night. 1 deliberatey joined a fast set, drank heavily that evening, played a crazy game, lost all the time, and gave an L. O, U, “The brute who took it came to the bank next day and shoved it in at my window. 1'asked for time, but he raised his voice and said if I didn't lic-| come across there would be-trouble. d not re- raised stealth- the light 1 lost my nfi;e——l never w::d‘prc::' iron proposition, anyhow—an - ised ':o meet him that evening with the bills. hen an opportunity of- fered, 1 took the money from the drawer, Then bcrn the easy slide. Erasures, false balances, wild plung ing to get out of the mess, and an ex« amination of my books by a bank in- fed L ., Almost before I - knew A of | me two years. And during those two where T was, I heard a judge giving years in jail I never forgot Gertrude’s shriek through the court house when K some money in your pocket and 'a new our heart. Meet me tomor- row at 11 o'clock outside the Atlantic and I'll take you to an out- fitter's. Get yourself fixed up by a barber earlier. Then, with some de- our body, you'll feel am taking a chance, but I'll risk it. I want a seCretary who will attend to a heap of routine business which doesn't interest me. Mind you, [ intend to trust you. You will no longer be 'Gentleman Joe,’ but oseph Lawrence Drake, Gentleman, ee that you don’t betray my confi- It was thus, after seven bitter years of separation, that “Gertrude” met once more her old-time fiance. She saw the gladness die out of the man's eyes, to be succeeded by a dull misery and shame that went to her ‘woman’s forward, with® swift grace, she held out her hand. : "J?'e," she whispered, “is it really what do' you know sbout The occupants of the car paid no heed to the loafer. ‘They were whirled to the center of the city; tomobile drew up of looking building w! flamboyantly to all the world that this and none other was “Prof. Mo~ retti's Dancing Academy.” Nor did |you? they know that the professor himself, advised by ‘phone of Burton's in- tended visit, was watching through a window, and eyidently keenly anx- ious that this particular patron should | c cent clothes on cleaner of soul. u “Yes, Gertrude,” he said sadly. “I am overjoyed at seeing want to sink into the earth.” Her feminine tact came to the res- I|put myself right with the cops and The other sprang to his feet, almost ue, \ delirious with jo; “Oh, don't let us ‘begin to weep about the past the very moment we meet,” she said, with well-assumed “We are both alive, any- how, and that is something to be When the car stopped, Moretti ale but strikingly hand- 0 seemed to be one of his assistants. She was disengaged. Several other couples were pi ting on the waxe being the item' of the moment, but this tutoress had clearly been kept 1 Moretti now turned on her with a gleam of excitement in his gh the door and | d \ though large and b too closely together. “Hurry up,” he said emphatically. “Rush jnto some pretty clothes, This fellow just coming in has money to burn. You're to be his partner, see? | Do you get me?” The girl smiled languidly. She un- derstood.She was merely a pawn in the game. It was her business to at- tract, to please, enven to entice, Her employer provided Paris frocks for £ o you really mean it?” he cried in a voice cracked with “I shall not go back ona word I've said,” and Burton's outstretched hand gave carnest of his intent. ! Drake broke down utterly, As one in dream he pocketed the few bills Bur- ton handed him; his eyes were so blinded with tears that his benefactor had to lead him throuw, across the hall, CHAPTER 1V. y “The Dancing Qirl.” A fortnight later, Burton remem- bered that he was somewhat in ar- rears with his dancing lessons, and arranged to give an afternoon to teaching his rebellious feet the in- tricacies of the valse a deux temps and the turkey trot—those sure and cer- tain credentials in the inner shrine muttered her downcast lover. “I wonder!” By this time Moretti had noticed interested talk between frowned. John's careless remark had enlightened him as to Drake's position. noyance, ‘he called Gert g duced her to her partner and succeed- ed in giving her a significant nudge. Drake effaced himself ™ as, his em- ployer whirled away in the dance. He went out, and to his surprise found that he was_frankly delighted at having encountered Gertrude, He was walk- ing down the stréet, holding His head high and indulging in day dreams, when that same doubtful-looking per- floor, a fox trot lliant, were set Author of “The Wings of the Morning,” “The Pillar of Light,” “The Terms of Surrender,” “Number 17,” Etc. of Photoplays of the Same Name. By LOUIS TRACY Wovelisd frem the Serios of Fhotoplan B ——— Copyright, 1916, by Louis Tracy. Bill” he said: “Come along! Let's|other reason why he should fulfill find a saloon in a side street. It's as| Wall-eyed Bill's behests. much as my job's worth to be seen grinking in public at this hour of the H 7" chuckled Bill. “Goin’ straight, e! s the right lay. “That’s good. I'm glad to hear it.” He accompanied the words by a hearty slap on the back, but if the hap- less pigeon which this hawk had marked as legitimate prey could only have peered into the man’s mind he would have found registered there the additional comment: “Yes, you are! Not if I know it, anyhow.” The two selected a saloon in one of those doubtful neighborhoods which seem to be associated with fashion- able thoroughfares in much the same way that barnacles cling to a ship. Drinks were ordered. Drake insisted on paying, but Bill did not seem to be short of money, and paid the waiter. Poor Drake tried to impress his companion with the responsibilities of his new position, hoping that the fext, “Go thou and do likewise!” might take root in even such unpromising soil. When all was said and done, his heart warmed a little to one who had been mental torture of prison life. A third and a fourth supply of liquor was consumed. The talk grew confi- dential. ‘In half an hour the unfor- tunate Drake was nearly drunk. At that unlucky crisis, a row sprang up in the bar. The bartender inter- fered, and, in the course of the melee, was thrown' violently against Drake, who, hardly conscious of what was go- ing on, assumed that he had been at- tacked. In a gust of anger he snatched a bottle from the counter and struck the bare-headed man a violent blow, The other fell at once, with blood streaming from his scalp. The original row was now in full swing, and no one paid any particular heed to the bartender’s misfortunc. Drake was still waving the bottle in drunken fury when his associate led him-to a back door and into an alley. There the jailbird took the bottle from Joe's hand, and threw it away, forcing the other to accompany him. The two men presented a curious spectacle as they reached the main street—the one, fashionably dressed, having almost collapsed as he came into the fresh air, while the~other, an obvious ruffian, was apparently play- ing thg part of the Good Samaritan, Erl e never knew how he got home. He managed to creep to his room, and leaded illness for the rest of the day. ext morning, when he met Burton at breakfast, the latter was kindly solicit- \ous as to his healh. Drake nearly yielded then. He was bitterly con- scious of his fall from grace, but re- solved to make amends, and had re- covered his poise when he was called to the telephone. The croaking voice of Wall-eyed Bill came over the wire: “Nicd mess you got into yesterday, didn’t you?”' it said. N * “What do you "mean?” inquired Drake Kervoully. “Huh! I like that! Forgotten ev- erything, have you? Sorry, old sport, ter. Hike out into the park, and meet me near the fountain in half an hour. And watch your step? It's the chair for {ou this time if you ain’t mighty carefull ) Making some excuse to his em- ployer, Drake went out. And the time came_all too soon when his prison friend showed him a newspaper with the scare heads: “Bartender Slain in Saloon Brawl! Murderer Unknown! Makes Good His Escape!” The black type ‘danced before Drake's eyes. He was terrified. “How does ‘this concern me?” he asked. “Youl” cackled Bill. “You croaked that guy! Up to now nobody but me knows you done it, and I ain’t goin’ to squeal on you, Joe. You believe that, don’t you?” A 4 “What are you ilvmg me?” de- manded Drake thickly. = Bill's manner changed instantly. “The straight spiel,” he growled. “Puttin’ up the unconscious act, are you? Don’t you do it. If I split, there's twenty fellers who saw you-in that saloon, an’ would pick you out of a crowd. That xu{ is dead all right, and you killed him. It don't make no difference to me, one way or the other, but you'll have to toe the line and do as I tell you, or I'll you go to the chair for sure. Drake had to accept the lamentable th. “I haven't much money, 'he fal- tered. “I've been at work only a couple of weeks, but I might scrape up a hundred dollars—" The other laughed derisively. “Search me!” he guffawed. “That rich guy you‘re living with can cut up better'n that. Now, here's my o?fen Take it or leave it. The next time he has a lot of dough in the house; put me wise and I'll pouch it. It's dead easy. No one will ever sus- ect you, and I'll get away west. ow, don’t cut up rough about it. You can’t help yourself . It's the only thing to do.” The unhappy. secretary saw no other way out ofthe difficulty. Sick with despair, he gave in. Just as on that first evil day he had helped him- self to the bank's money, believiig he would repay the “loan” by the proceeds of a fortunate gamble, he salved his conscience now by the re- solye to work hard, save every cent, son who had noticed his departure in the car met him face to face, ' Drake would have passed, but the other stepped deliberately in front of him and greeted him effusively. Clear- Iy, the secretary was startled. He ignored the outstretched hand, and tried to pass on with a casual nod. But cquaintance grabbed ud a hoarse «voice murmured in his ear: “Sink me, Joe, if I ain't tickled to death to find an old pal so well fixed. in’ to try and put it over ave forgotten Wall-eyed Bill, your old side-kick, are you? Come and have a drink. There's things you and I have to talk about.” Drake, ot course, should. have defied ul. But the fatal weakness in racter which had first led to his downfall now urged him to tem- He thought it best to yield jor the time. Some show of cordiality, and the gift of a few dollars, might send Bill on his way rejoicing. () glanced at his watch with a. pretense of consulting it. “ find I have five minutes to spare, h special occasions, and paid her well into the bargain. The im- contract was a sordid one. She could not help that. It was a hard world; But she had to live. ' Moretti, who could be both superficially distinguished manner when he chose, received Bur- ton and his secretary with much unc- tion, He rallied John playfully on neg- lecting his lessons and reminded him that he was losing money each time he failed to keep an appointment. “That.doesn’t make any difference,” said John indifferently. “When you feel you want a check, just let my lecre.t,xry know and he will attend 0 it. A maid took his hat and stick, and Moretti moved away by his side. At that instant the door opened and the girl who was fo act as instructress came in. Charming and svelte as she had' looked in her ultra-fashionable gown. She glanced idly from the two men to the secretary, who happened to be standing somewhat apart. light of recogni- face and Drake's. of high society. He ordered his car and sought his secretar; of the garb donned for th occasion. Drake, now as elegantly at- tired as his master, looked hi and pronounced him O. K. “You're the sure thing!" he said, “Walk down Fifth ave rig about 4 o'clock an: the ¥'i'r|| will say, ‘Myl who's the the: country whither to retire for a made the wretched compact, he crushed it out of sight until the time was ripe for its execution. this disreputabl Burton smiled. Drake( of course, did not know that he was addressing a vertiable marquis. Thus far, John had managed to keep that part of his dramatic history a secret. The two young men went out to- gether and entered the car. By evil chance, a mean-lookin; him in nature's unkindest pened to be seated on a bench the entrance to the house. He the two with envious interest. his expression changed to one of blank amazement when he caught ht of the secreta ever, he sought Gertrude. calling at her home—a cheap apart- ment house in the suburbs, he found that she was not at home. Walking back, he saw Burton's car approch- ing. He recognized it at once, of course, and was speculating as to what business had brought his em® filoyer to_that part of the city when panied by a lady. The two were seated in the closed limousine, 3;' he murmured to himself. “Gentelman Joe, by all that's holy! And togged up regardless, | tion dawned in and repay Burton in course of time. He knew that within the next few days his employer would withdraw from the bank a fairly large sum with which to purchase a small estate in week-end when weary of the noise and heat of the city. So, having Being restless and unm'ung. how- ut, on e noticed that Burton was accom- had accused him of my house. T've shot a burgla: A strange episode in John Burton's life moved on now to its predestined close with the merciless swiftness of a Greek tragedy. Wholly unaware of the two sordid situations which were developing, Burton's own acts con- tributed to the denouement. On the one hand, he obtained the money from the bank, and actually set his secretary to check the bills and see if the amount was right; on the other, his kindly nature led him to take the pretty but sad-eyed dancing girl for more than one airing in his car, He grew to like her. When away lfmm Moretti she .became natural and unaffected. The forced gayety of the ballroom'dcscrtcd her. She was just a shy, wistful and delightfully timid | young woman. In a word, her attri- butes were those most calculated to appeal to a man of Burton's tempera- ment. i Unfortunately the girl did not con- fide in him altogether. Had she done 50, at least one chapter of this his- tory would never have been written, But she was proud, and would not 1 ask for help, while the bitter experi- ence of by-gone years had hardened her to the extent of believing that a man seldom gave disinterested as- sistance to a woman, especially a | woman who was young and pretty, Moreover, Moretti held her in cruel bondage. The crafty Italian knew that the girl's mother was now {in imminent danger of death unless she was sent speedily to a sanitarium in the west. If Gertrude fell in with his plans, he promised her a sufficient sum of money to relieve her of all | anxiety in this respect. But, if she re- fused, she thereby condemned her mother to the grave and herself 1o penury, as she would be dismissed in- stantly from her post in the academy and was unfitted by lack of training to fill' any other position. She ar- gued, too, as Drake had done, that | Burton was rich, and would sufier little if any inconvenience from the loss of a few thousand dollars, & share of which ill gotten plunder would fall to her. Life as she hal ! known it had mercifully calloused | her, For all that, she-loathed the under- taking, though she could not nerve | herself to be candid with her fricud, pand tell him of Moretti's wretched scheme. The upshot of these despic- able plots came when the young mil- llonsire received the following letter: “Dear Mr. Burton: I am in terrible trouble and want your advice. Will you come to me this evening? Sin- cerely, GERTRUDE BROOK.” “The Anthrop, Apartment 24.” This missive reached him while he | was actually working the combination of the safe to place the money in it with which he was going to purchase; the country estafe. Drake was watch- ing him, and, in a fever of agonized| remorse, was on the point of confess- ing everything, but the telephone bell| rang, and Burton was summoned. He left Gertrude's letter on the table. Drake, hardly knowing what he! was doipi, glanced at the handwrit- ing, which, somehow, seemed famil-| iar. Then he read, and his better in- stincts were forthwith swbmerged. 1f Gertrude was minded to be that sort, why should he worry because her favored sweetheart was robbed of a few thousand doMars? But he could not bear to meet Burton again, and left some excuse with a servant as to a pressing engagement. Hence, he did not know that the real estate agent through whom his employer was acquiring the country' property had jasked that the money should be brought to his office that night to close the deal and thus. fore- stall other negotiations. Burton re- turned, took out the roll of bills, put them in his pocket, closed the safe, and-went away in his car. After call- ing at the agent’s office, he went on to the Anthorp, which was really Moretti's residence. He was shown in, and found Ger- trude alone in an apartment so well furnished that, had he given the least! thought to the matter he might well have been suspicious. . The girl was very pale and exceed- ingly nervous. Her talk was rambling and she seemed ready to drop in a faint. Indeed, Burton was so alarmed as to her condition that he turned to' search for some water. At that instant, Gertrude braced herself for a supreme effort. She tore her blouss off one shdulder, let down her hair and screamed loudly. Her astounded visitor had just turned on his heel when & door opened and Morett} ran in. The Italian held a re- volver, and his ferocious expression seemed to show that he would not scruple to use it. “So I've caught you, you woman stealer! You!” he shouted. *‘But you can't get away with this sort of thing here. Your night's work will cost you dear.” But he had not counted on the moral or physical force of the man he meant to vic- timize, John stared coolly back at him and at the wild-eyed, distracted-looking girl. Then he dropped his handkerchief to the floor. He had noticed that Morettl was standing on a narrow rug, which stretched to' his own feet. Stooping, as though Lo pick up the handkerchief, John caught the corners of the rug and tugged violently. As he foresaw, it slipped easily over the polished floor, and Moretti was thrown so violently that his skull hit the floor with a force which disposed of him for the rest of the night. ‘Without a word to the cringing girl, Bur- ton went out. He drove home, and entered the house quletly. He was thinking of go- ing stralght to his room when the sound of a pistol shot brought him quickly to the library. Arrived there, he found Drake with a re- volver in his hand, and a man lying In front of the open safe, Burton faced Drake and then the whole truth came out. Drake' made a full con- fession. He told how he had been tempted, and had fallen, how a furlous squabble had taken place when Wall-eyed Bill dls- covered that the fe was pty, and ving ‘Aouble-crossed” him. In the struggle that followed, Drake had shot Bill with the latter's gun So the troubled philanthropist, who im- agined at first that the faithful secretary had merely shot a burgiar, was faced now with a. double record of intended treachery by two people whom he had befriended. He moved to the telephone and called for the police, As Drake heard the fatal number, he shuddered and burst out sob- bing, kno would go trial. But ears when he heard Burton say at the telepNone: g full well how his record gainst . him when brought to e could hardly belleve his own “You had better send a m: , around to Drake would have broken out.into a pro. {sstation of gratitude, but Burton repulsed Im. “Get out of my sight!™ he growled scorn- fully, *“I never want to ses or hear of So Drake repressed his first intent, and did not signal the chauffeur, As the car passed, he was astounded by the discovery that Burton’s compan- ion was none other than Gertrude, the demon of jealousy whispered an- you again.” The unhappy wretch slunk owt of the' room, and the man of great weal! Slone with a ey corpse. 'rul;, he might well ask “Is humanity in the grip of “ CTs Do Commata TV i