The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, December 6, 1903, Page 8

has the fas between you.” pect -otherwise John's clock time' ] was go »it b vait & we look upon tells as the ng a2bout a girl , &S you must public matter, are not really doing , Burger,” said Kennedy, nd upon the other's arm. this catacomb it~ drop so rn—something this time?” e refused. and there rger. with his “No doubt and so again. my good-night.” watched _Burger the door before his 1 the air of a'man st of that which re behaviog in a most ridic- if this is vour e that 1 must sub- ose T can tell do not know you wanted to came back to the stove. wn his basket, he sank The Germsa May I have another cigar?” nk you very 1 never smoke - but I enjoy a chat much under the influence as regards this young rou had this little ad- world has be- home in England with her own people.” rt of England. London?” Twicker ust excuse my curlosity, my and dy fou must put it ce of the world quite a simple thing to ng lady to go off with weeks or so. and then er to her own family at— 1 the place? nham. But it outside of my not even im- about it. Fe loved this at you could not But if you aid 11d you make this ch has damaged you dy looked moodily into the red tha stos logical way of looking at it, he. “Love is a biz ents a good many eling I liked her have seen ner— she could 2 ng to admit, I could never have daid Kennedy, why of the thing had a vith ere wo t them hat 1 1 to her. ld the variety of life be It was for an adv - t began to I've chased Zood dezl e in my time, but there's no that of a prett woman the piquant difficulty of it, she was the companion dy y Rood, it was ost im- € > her alone. On top t other obstacles which at- I learned from her own lins 1y in the proceeding that she engaged To whom?” itioned no name at any one knows dventu e more did certa you think sc 1 you that I am very ignorant give a spice to ", you can remember apple stole frc your or's tree was Iways sweeter 1 that which fell from your own. then 1 found that she cared for no; it took about three ing and mining. r over. She u months But at last I rstood that my 1 made it impossible for me to do the right thing by her—but she came. all the and we had a delighttul time as s it ted.” d his shoulders. 8 the survival of the fittest If he had been the better man she would not have deserted him. Let's drop the subject, for I have had enough of it.” “Only one other thing. How did you get rid of her in three weeks?” “Well, we had both cooled down a bit. you understand. -She absolutely re- »d, under any circumstances. to e back to face the people she had wn in Rome. Now, of course. Rome is necessary to me, and I was already pining to be back at my worki—so there was an obvious cause for separation. Then, again, her old father turned up at the hotel in London, and there was a scene, and the whole thing became so unpleasant that really—though I sed her dreadfully at first—I was very glad to slip out of it. Now, I rely upon you not to repeat anything - of what I have said.” “My dear Kennedy, I should not dream of repeating it. But all' that you say interests me very. much, - for it gives me an insight”into your way ‘of looking 2t things, which is entirely dif- ferent from mine, for I have-seen so little of life.,*And, now. you want: to know about my new catzcomb. There’s no use of my trying to describe it. for you, would never. find.it by. that. There is only one thing for me to do. and that is for me to take you thére.” {“That would be splendid.” 4 “When would you like to come?” “The sooner the better. I am all im- tience to see it.” “Well, it is & beautiful night—though a trifie cold. Suppose we start'in an hour. 'We must be very careful to keep the matter to ourselves. If any one saw ue hunting in couples they would suspect that there was something go- ing on.” “We can’t be Joo cautious,” said Ken- nedy. “Is it far?” “Some miles.” Not tco far to walk?” “Oh, no; we could walk there easily.” “We had better do so then. A eab- man’s suspicions would be aroused if he dropped us both at some lonely spot in the dead of night.” “Quite so. I think it would be best for us to meet at the Gate of the Ap- pfan Way at midnight. I must go back to my lodgings for the matches and candies and things.” “All right, Burger. I think it is very kind of you to let me into this secret, and I promise you that I will write nothing about it until you have pub- lished your report. Good-by for the three THE SUNDAY CALL. present. at twelve. The cold, clear air was filled with the musical chimes from that city of clocks as Burger, wrapped in an Itglian over- You will find me at the Gate coat, with a lantern hanging from his hand, walked up to the rendezvous. Kennedy stepped out of the shadow to meet him. “You are ardent in work as well as ) in love,” said the German, laughing. “Yes; I have been walting here for nearly an hour.” “I hope you left no clew as to where we were going?”’ FOR LOVE OF AMY--By A. S. Richardson 5. (Copyright, 1903, by A. S. Richardson.) Harry Watkins did not change his lazy, easy position stretched at Amy Morgan’s feet, but his voice was strangely tense and earnest. “No. That would be ell play and no work, and men weaty Yof all play as well as all work. “That is the first time I ever heard that it was mere child's pley to please a woman and make her contented.” His tone was bantering, but Amy’s face did not soften with mirth. “You do not understand. I must mar- ry a man who, I think, is a stronger nature than myself—a men to whom I can look up. ' My father, like most self-made men, has his rough edges, but he commands a certain respect which I want to give to my husband. He is so completely the master of the situation. He did not buy his position as president of the Consolidated Inter- urban Railway. He earned it step by step, from the day when he was first given a car to oil.” Harry Watkins was not smiling now. His eyes were narrowing to a mere slit} of clear gray, and his glance was fixed on the Berkshire hills rising magnifi- cently on their right, bathed now in richest September sunset. Suddenly he turned and took both of her slim. graceful hands in his. “Amy"”—it was the first time he had ever used her first name. and her hands trembled slightly in his—"Amy, dear, if 1 ever should come to you with the fruits of genuine effort in my hands, could you—?" And looking into her smiling eves he read the answer he wanted. . . . . B . It came out in huge black type: “Our generous townsman. ‘James Forbes Morgan, president of the Con- solidated Interurban Railway, has granted to the young women of St. James Church the use of his road to Lake View for the afternoon of July 4: the proceeds from carfares to be donated to the victims of the Cherry Hill Mine disaster. The woung women ' . of the Altar Guild will have charge of the work, and will act as conductors during the- afternoon. Indiyiduals who will not find it convenient to patronize the road on that day may 2nd ~checks, payable to Miss Amy Morgan, treasurer of the gufld And it certainly seemed when the afternoon arrived ' that all Centerville was bound for Lake View. The sup ntendent and his assistants held a Hurried conference, and’ it was decided that the regular conductors. who had anticipated a day.off, should be pressed into service to assist the voung women acting as conductors, and ‘an emergency call was sent out for the men to réport at once. Amy Morgan sat in the auditor's office, recelving the reports as each car returned from its trip to the Iake, her enthusiasm riging as‘the after- noon,waned. At 6.o'clock the cars: were .to be turned back to the com- pany, and it was .just 5:30 whea the telephone in the superintendent’s room rang with that peculiar insistence, vhich presages trouble. Riot imminent at Dobsons Corner, was the news. “Gang of toughs hav taken nossession of tar No. 527; motor- man thrown off; -badly injured.” “Don’t tell Amy,” was her father's first order, 'as he closed the door lead- ing into the auditor's room. He had been at his daughter’s elbow all after- noon. “Rioters in possession; have run car out of town. Send police to head them off.” So the car was‘hended for Center- ville, that was one comfort, but there were ugly curves to make and two sharp inclines, which unaccustomed hands unsteady ! from liquor might fail to accomplish. Probably few pas- sengers were on board, but there was the pretty girlish conductor in chagge. Jessica Wallace, one of Amy's deéirest ;rlends. Anxlety was written on every ace. ““What conductor is helping out. Miss Wallace?” “Watson; that new chap who has been working in the repair shop. ‘her own way of pushing the - cited throngs We've been using him extra. He can handle the car if®he don’t lose his hea 3 Mr. Morgan looked relieved. but there was no keeping it from Amy. Long- before the car could be heard tearing. down thel incline leading to the barps she had read trouble in the faces, around her ard demanded the trath. 8o she stood with straining gaze and tight sped hand as the S otor car used for suburban service came plungihg into view. On the front vlatform .stood a = slender. glrlish. figure, waving her hat as, a signai of their safety. Beside. her, with his m on the gleamifig brass crerk, stcod a stalwart., bare-headed man. On the floor of the car lay, prone.” and silent, two battered toughs. The rest had been dropped along the line. A gesticulating, shouting crowd of employes surrounded the car, as it pulled up with 'a jerk, but Amy saw just one fizure in the dramatic pieture, the man who bent with calm, smiling ey above the brass crank. - R . . “I meant to offer you something better as the fruits of my apprentice- ship in your father's {rade than a dis- abled car and two victims of my oid lessons in bag-punching. But Fate has ®ood work o o “I never knew that Fate could be #0 kind, father.” They were standing in her father's private office, screened from the ex- in the yards, but her father had suddenly disappeared. Sha looked at his vacant chair, then back to young Watkins' dancing eyes. “He knew—you—two" “Are a very good pair to draw to. Amy, it was the only. way to win you —and now, I want my - promised re- ward."” ! ‘Without a word she held out her hands, and he drew her close with his dusty blue coat sleeve around her dainty summer gown, and his . classic features, still grimy from the terrific. onslaught and ride, hidden in her soft, chestnut hair. EL" AND ITAIE OF 0L Ofl\;'péTfl’J “Not such’ a fool. By Jove! T am chilled to the bone. Come on., Burger, let us warm outselves by a spurt of hard walking."” He had lit his lantern, and by its light they were enabled to follow a narrow and devious track which wound across the marches of Campana. The great aqueduct of old Roms lay like a monstrous caterpillar across the moonlit landscape, and their road led them under one of the huge arches, and past the circle of crumbling bricks which marks the old arena. At last Burger stopped at a solitary wooden cowhouse, and he drew a key from his pocket. Sur r catacomb is not inside cried Kennedy. ‘“The entrance to it is. That is just the safeguard which we have against any oneelse discovering it.” “Does the proprietor know of it? “Not he. :He had found one or two objects which made me almost certain that his house was built on the en- trance to such a place. So I rented it from him, and did my excavations my- self. Come in'and shut the door be- hind you.” It was a long, empty building, with the mangers of the cows along one wall. Burger put his lantern down on the ground and shaded its light in all directions save one by draping his over- coat around it. “It might excite remark if any one saw a light in this lonely place,” said “Just help me to move this board- ing. The flooring was loose in the corner, and plank by plank the two savants raised it and leaned it against the wall. Below there was a square aperture and a stair of old stone steps which led away down into the bowels of the earth. “I had some very Narrow escapes at first, but I have gradually learned to go about. There is a certain system to it, but it is one which a lost man. if he were in the dark, could not pos- sibly find out. Even now I always spin out a ball of string behind me when I am going far into the catacomb. You can see for yourself that it Is difficult. but every one of these passages divide and subdivide a dozen times before you go a hundred yards. Follow me close- ly. Do not loiter to look at anything upon the way, for the place which I will take you to contains all that you can see and more. It will save time for us to go there direct.” He led the way down one of the cor- ridors, and the Englishman followed closely at his heels. ; Ey E 1 then the passage bifurcated., but Bur- ger was evidently following some secret marks of his he neither stopped nor hesit “What would happen if the light went out?” Kennedy asked, as they hurried onward. “I have & spare candle and a box of matches in my pocke By the way, Kennedy, have you any matches?” “No. You had better give me some.” “Oh, that's all rig There is no chance of our separating.” “How far are we go! me that we have quarter of a mile.” “More than that, I think. There is really no Mmit to the tombs—at least. I have never been able to find any. This is a very difficult place, so I think that I will use our ball of string.” He fastened one end of it to a project- ing stone and he carried the colil In the breast of his coat, paying it out as he advanced. Kennedy saw that it Was No unnecessary precaution, for the passages had become more complex and tortuous than ever, with & perfeot net- for g ng? It seems to walked at least & work of Intersecting corridors. But these all ended in one large circular ball with & square pedestal of tufa topped with a slab of marble at one end of it. “By Jovel™ cried Kennedy In an ecs- tasy, as Burger swung his lantern over the marble. “It is a Christian altar— probably the first one {n existence. Here is the little consecration cross cut uoon the corner of it. No doubt this circu- lar space was used as a “Preclsely,” said Burg: I bad more time I should ltke to show you all the bodies ch are buried In these niches upon the walls, for they are the early Popes and Bishops of the church, with their miters, their ecroziers and full canonicals. Go over to that one and look at it!” Kennedy went across, and stared at the ghastly head which lay loosely on the shredded and moldering miter. “This is most esting,” sald he, and his voice to boom agaln: the conca vault. As far as my ex- perience goes, it is unique. Bring the lantern over, Burger, for I want to see them all” But the German had strolled away, end was standing In the n dle a4 yellow circle of the o of the hall. “Do igh er L] you know how many wrong turnings there are en this and the stairs?” he Te are over two thousan C was one of the means of pr which Christians adoptec thousand to one s out, even if he h: were In the da be far more di “So I should t ut i : b ., of course, H ment to the lanter as If an inv tightly ove Never had ness was him and to s obstacle ags us have the | But his ¢ and in th seemed to gan to laugh, m the sound ery side at once. nd Kennedy,* the candle!™ sald Kennedy, but I least tell by the sound you stand. uld “If it were not for this string which I hold in my hand I should not have a notion which way to go.” I dare say Strike. a light, man, and ha an end to this nonsense.” “Well, Kennedy, there are two things which I understand that you are very fond of. The one is an adventure, and the other is an obstacle to surmount. The adventure must be the finding of your way out of this catacomb. The obstacle will be the darkness and the two thousand wrong turns which make the way a little difficult to find. But Yyou need not hurry, for you have plenty of time, and when you halt for a rest now and then I should like you just to think of Miss Mary Saunderson. and whether you treated her guite fairly “You devil—what do you mean?" roared Kennedy. He was running about in lttle circles and clasping at the solid blackness with both hands. “Good-by,” sald the mocking voice, and it was already at some distance. “I really do not think, Kennedy. even y your own showing, that you did the right thing by that girl. There was only one little thing which you ap- peared not to know, and I can supply it. Miss Saunderson was engaged to a poor, ungainly devil of a student., and his name was Julius Burger.” There was a rustle somewhere. vague sound of a foot striking a stone, the and then there fell silence upon th old Ch ch—a gnant, heavy silenc Kennedy . . . . . . afterward the fo! de the rou Some two months lowing paragraph the European pre “One of the eries of recent ye catacomb in Re ta the ea vaults of § early Chri energy and ger, the youn though the ery, it a adventur Some months well-known appeared the Corso, and his assoclatio had driven him tc appears that he h victim of that fe hich had ra with a ve Rome. d in reality a the new cat from the condi that he had tra 1 the tortuous corridc these subterra; to expiorers. had, with Inexplic; ceased gentleman ble rashness. made his way into this labyrinth without. as far as can I covered, taking with him either candles or matches. so that his sad fate was the natural result of his own temerity. What makes the matter more painful is that Dr. Julius Burger was an intimate friend of the deceased. His joy at the extraordinary find which he has been so fortunate Every gow and; as, to, make has been greatly marred by the terrible fate of his comrade and fel~ low worker.”