The Seattle Star Newspaper, April 24, 1922, Page 11

(Centinued From Saturday) CHAPTER VIII I He was alone tn the room where Perch ly —-not even Effie. One This war! He bad thought fe abut it away for # night, and here ; the inconceivable occupation to qarich it had brought him: alone tn bere $ ‘The doctor had been and was com. ex again in the morning, ‘There ‘was nothing to be done, he had said; just watch ber. Watch her? How tong had he dese standing at the foot of the huge ped—the Diggest bed" he had ever what was there to wateh? we no sign. She scarcely peemed to breathe He would not pave recognised her face. It had the rance of a mask. “Sinking,” the doctor had aald. In process here Defore his eyes, but not to be seen dy them, awful and mysterious Death with practised fingers qbout his awful and mysterious sur- gery of eeparating the spirit from the flesh, the soul from the bod, fmoorruptible from the corrupt. i} real, It was an He was not really morning-—-and days and where she knelt, Bews had come on the previous This was Effie’s second without sleep. Now she was ; collapsed: suffocated and and gagged in the opiates and she bad for thirty hours re ont ouched her, She did not ‘mir. He shook her gently; still no Teponse. Hie lifted her up and car. D7] tied ber slong the passage to the room be knew to be hers; laid her on Der bed and covered her with a quilt. Tnconcetvable occupation. Was all {his really happening? Tro ociock. He went te look at Rife, still In profound slumber. Why fgwaken ber? Nothing could be done; maiy watch. He returned to his vigil. » Yea, Mra. Perch was sinking. More bow that maskiike a» We § too far retired. too deep. | to struggle back and vitalize| _Protound and awful mystery. ‘Wihio that form wae in process a pp meet dreadful activity. The spirit preparing to vacate the habita- tions it had drawn that mask Sdout the face. Seventy years it had ‘ 4 here; now it was bound y. Seventy years it had been j to passersby thru the door And windows of this its habitation; Bow. deeply retired within the inner . it set ite house im order fo be gone. Profound and awful Getivity. From the windows of her y @r*s turning off the lights: from the p | Maines De torcon drawing the furnaces; dis Gerering the contacts. A lifetime with- fh this home, now passenger into an Mernity. A lifetime settled; now Preparing to be away on @ journey Ej tnconceivably tremendous, unimag- faably awful. Did it shrink? Did tt it had so long occupied. It gave| it was that. gn. The better to hide ite prep- | frightful effort mying ‘Young Perch.” ot her powers cutting off tts | you. Perch! How in pity was he to go on living out of the war, now that the war had taken killed old Mrs, Perch and shut refuge from Its oppression? He must &ot in, Me could not endure it, He could not, coukt not... Ten minutes past three, There Was perceptible to him no change in that face upon the pillow, He brought a lamp from the dressing table and looked at bh: |Meht with his hand. mask! Profound and awful mystery. Much more than a house that dread fully engrossed epirit was preparing to leave, This meager form, scarce ly discernible beneath the coveriet, had been its fortress, once new, once strong, once beautiful, once by ite garrison proudly fought, splendidly defended, added to, enlarged, adorned. Then past its glory, past attention, Then crumbling, then deo caying. Now to be abandoned. It had known great stresses and abated them; sieges and withstood them; as» saults and defeated them, © vanity! It had but temporized with conquest ‘Time's hosts bad camped these many years about its walls, in ceaseless in- veatment, with deaultory cks, but with each attack investing closer, Now a most terrible assault had breached the citadel. The garrison } | Was stricken amain. The fortress no longer could be defended. Its garrt- son was withdrawing from that place and handing it over to destruction. Iv ‘There was some strange sound In the room. He had dozed in a chair. sound, or bad he tm. He sat up tenaely and Tt was her breathing, « harsh and labored sound. He stepped quickly to the bed and looked and then ran into the passage and called joudiy, “Effie! Eitfier Frightening, terrible, agontstng. He was kneeling on oné side of the bed, Effie at the other. The extreme mo ment was come to her who lay be tween them. She was moshing. He bowed his face into bis hands. The sound of her meaning was terrible to him. That inhabitant of this her body had done its preparations and now stood at the door in the dark ness, very frightened. It wanted to mo back. It had been very accu» tomed to being here, It could not go back. It @id not want to shut the door. The door was shutting. It stood and shrank and whimpered there. Ob, terridie! Beyond endurance, agonizing. It was old Mra. Perch who stood there whimpering, shrink. ing, upon the threshold of that huge abyas, wide as space, dark ae night It was no spirit. It wae just that very feeble Mra Perch with her fumbling hands and her moving lips. Look bere, Young Perch would never allow her even to cross a road with- . | out him! How tn pity wae ehe to take this frigttful step? He twisted up all his emotions Into an appeal of tremendous intensity. “Young Perch! Come bere! Your mother! Young Perch, come here.” ‘Telling it. ones, to Nona, he enid, “1 do know what happened. They talk about self-hypootism. Perhaps I know T made a most I had to. I could see her—that poor terrified thing. Something had to be done. Some one bad to go to her. I said it like In a nightmare, bursting to get out of It, ‘Young Perch. Come here.” Anyway, there it ts, Nona. 1 heard ther, it was imagination, of course. But I heard them.” He heard, “Now then, Mothert yetery. Dreadful and momentous|Don't be frightened. Here I am, Mother, Come on, Mother. One step. Mother. Only on I can't reach You must take just one atep. Look, Mother, here's my hand, Can't you eee my hand?” “It's so dark, Freddie.” “It's not, Mother. It's enty @ark where you are. It’s light here. Don’t ery, Mother. Don't be frightened. It's all right. It's quite all right.” | OUR BOARDING HOUSE f MARTHA DEAR ~ A COLLEAGUE OF MINE 1S COMPLETING PLANS FoR EACH TOWARD “THE FUND WOULD IT PE POSSIBLE FOR You "T® ADVANCE ME “THAT SUM AS ead! She's dead!” Dead? He stared upon her dead face, Where was gone that mask? ‘Whence had come this glory? That inhabitant of this ber body, In act of going, had looked back, end its look had done thie thing. It had closed the door upon a ruined house, and looked, and left a templa It had departed from beneath a mask, and looked, and that which had been masked now was beatified Young Perch! In the morning a mysterious man with @ large white face, crooked spectacies and @ crooked Ue, and suggestion of thinking all the time of something else, or of nothing at! all, mysteriously drifted into the house, drifted about it with apparent | complete aimicssness of purpose, and presently showed bimecit to . as about to drift out of it agutn. | doctor, @ stranger, one w faces wh the war, | removing the old, was everywhere, Introducing, and possessed of a mys | terious and astounding faculty of ab- sorbing, resolving, and eubjugating all matters without visibly attending to any matter, “Leave everything to me,” It was all he seemed to say. Hie did nothing yet everything esemed to come to his hand with the nicety and exactness of « drawing-room com jurer. He bewtidered Babre, Hie car left and returned during hie Drief visit. Sabre, who bad thought him upstatra, aod who had a hundred ities to inquire of | bim, found him in the hall absorbed tn adjusting the weights of « grand father's clock. He remarked to Sabre, “I thought you'd gone. You'd better get off and grt a bath and some breakfast. Noth- ing you can do here, Leave every) thing to me.” ] “Rut, look here, I can't leave—" “That's all right. Just leave every. | thing to me, I'm taking Miss Bright | back to my wife for breakfast and) ® rest. After lunch I'll rum her her home, She can’t stay here. Have you any idea bow this thing books ont “But what about—” ‘The extraordinary man eeemed to know everything before it wae sald. “That's all right. I've sent for a woman and her daugh Leave everything to ma Here's the car. Here they are.” Two women appeared. “But about—" “You, that's all right. The poor old | THE SEATTLE STAR AMM. LIGTEN TO ME, AMOS HooPLe!«T WOULDN'T EVEN LOAN S | COULD FIND THE TWO DOLLARS IN CHANGE “THAT, T HAD HID W "THE OLD SUGAR BOWL.= How ~ ABOUT THAT? I WHA ¥i UP AT THIS TIME IN "THE MORNING, OLIVIAP of the night to the ordeal of the day by this intertude of the astonishing doctor, did not know how over wrought he was uatil he was at home again and come to Mabel seat ed at breakfast. The thought in his mind as he walked bad been the FLATYER “THAN H ON ME FoR DOINGS OF THE DUFFS BY AHERN HAHA TH! MAJOR 1S HE TRIED PUT "TH' Buzzi ATURTLE'S [1 SOME JACK A POLAR EXPEDITION = [4 YOU MY ICE CARD = | | Acie eugene or Hf DouaTie To "Mar FROST A ue coueaey” wou | | OUR SOCIETY HAVE BEEN |] PARTY! = ANOTHER THING, || evEN “OUCH MUMDS iF CALLED UPON “TO Hx WONDER IF YouR TH'PIANO Fly waD ; CONTINGUTE: TEN DOLLARS|| RESEARCH SocIETY FOR TEN ‘emt NOTES! STAT MARSHAL OTEY WALKER GAVE “TWO REASONS WHY HE DIDNT GIVE THAT TRAMP A HARD RUN - FIRST, OTEY STILL HAS HIS RED FLANNELS ON -SECOND,HE HAD LOST THE KEY TO THE JAIL. thought In his mind as he had rat) on after the death, waiting for morn. | ing. After this, after the war hed/ done this, how wag he to go on en-| | Pause in its preparations to peer and Peep and shudder? : mm Re tett very cold. He moved from That tall and pale young man, with hia face like one of the old Huguenots! That very frafl ol4 wom an with her fumbling bands and lady's brother Js coming down. He'll | take charge. I found his name in her papers last night, Telegraphed He was looking thru the door SF 8 bet and replenished the fire and Gouched beside tt, This war! Ho sala beneath hie Wreath, “Young Perch! Young Perch’ Young Perch wae killed. Realize the thing! He was never foing to see Young Perch again. He Was never going to mea old Mra. p Perch again. He was never to come into Puncher’s again. Another place Sf his lite was to be walled up. His like an empty house; the office Nike an empty house: now no refuge here, Things were crowding tn about Bim, things were closing in upon And he was just to live on B moving lips! “It's 0 cold.” “Now, Mother, I tell you It tsn‘t. Do just trust me. Do just come.” “I daren't, Freddie. I can't, Fred die. I can’t. I can't.” “You must. Mother, you must. Look, look, here I am. It's I, Fred. die. Don't cry, Mother. Just trust yourself entirely to me. You know how you always can trust me. Look, here’s my hand. Just one tiny step and you will touch it. I know you feel il, darling Mother. You won't any, any more, once you touch my hand. But I can't come any nearer, A f hers, out of the war, yet insupport- J tty beset by the war. Beast by the | War yet useless in the war. Young The path that led down into Curll- Valley was very steep. In spite _* the Green Shoes, the Twins stumbled at almost every step and loose stones and gravel, roots and ] Mambies tripped them constantly. The path was as crooked as its Dame, too, and turned this way and that tn the craziest fashion. It was "9 very crooked that Nancy and My Nick sometimes almost met them selves coming back fn circles Uke a take @ sudden turn and unwind, and when at last they were sure they had come to the end and would soon out of the valley, they found themarives at precisely the same piace they had started | CASTORIA iW ise fond veR 30 YER } aki tad R OVER 30 YEARS ° ture of! ; snore repaired by us last longer. n'y Shoe Repair, next Liberty peter —Advertinement, If you value your watch, let Haynes i, Next Liberty theatre-—Adv. Pe gp oy ape ocr fd ° Pha) Twi NS CURLICEW VALLEY dearest. You must. You-. Ab, | brave, beloved Mother—now! He heard Effie's votce, “Ob, she's ee) At last they came to two lovely rowe vines climbing over tall gate posts, and between them swung « cate little gute. “Welcome,” said a sign in bright gold letters on an arch overhead. “This must be the postern gate the dove told us about,” said Nancy “Let's go in. It must be the way out of Curlicew Valley.” “AN right, go ahead,” sald Nick, holding the gate open for his atater, But before Nancy had tire to put ® foot acrous the threshold, the dove suddenly fluttered down onto a rose vine. “Stop,” he called excitediy. “This gate leads to the Garden of Snares. If you enter you cannot leave for 29 years. Be on your way.” “But we're tired of this old crooked pati,” said Nancy. “Patience brings its own reward,” coord the dove, flying off. fo the Twins proceeded on their \dizzey journey. Uphill, downhin, twisting, turning, circling ‘went the path! Suddenly the dove flew down. “The postern gate Is before you,” he said. A little, crooked, weather-worn door swung open and the Twins stepped thru. (To Be Continued) “Here's the answer.” A telegraph messenger appeared. Astounding man! Ho read the telegram. “Yes, that's all right. He'll be here by the eleven train at Tidborough. I'll take Mise had the feeling that tf h opened the next thought fn his mind. an undertaker would rise out of the ground with a coffin. This astonish ing man, coming upon his over wrought state, made him feet hys- terical. Ho turned to Effie and gave her both hia bands. “The doctor's taking you, Effie, It's been dreadful for you. It’s all over now. Try to leave it out of your mind for a bit.” She «miled sadly, “Good-by, Mr. Sabre. ‘Thank you #0 much, #0 very much, for coming and staying. What I should have done without you I aren't think. I've never known any one so good as you've been to me.” “T've done nothing, Effie, except feel sorry for you.” He saw her into the car. would not take a lift. “Well, leave everything to me,” nald the doctor. The chauffeur spok: to him about some engine trouble. “Yeu, I'll see to that. Leave every: thing to me, Jenkins.” Even hig car! Bo, he during the war and refused part tn t? He dreaded meeting Mabel. He treaded going on to the office and meeting Fortune and Twyning. To none of these people, to no one he ould meet, could he explain how he elt about Young Perch and whi 16 had gone thru with Mrs. Perc’ vor why, because of what left more poignant than ever was his need to get into the war. And yet with these feelings he must go on facing these people and go on meet ing the war in every printed page, in every sight, in every conversa tion, Unbearable! He could not. Mabel looked up from her break fast. “Well, I do think—”* ‘This was the beginning of ft. He felt himeelf digging his the palms of his hands. up with olf Mra, Perch—* “I know you have, I sent around to the Farguses, think—”* He felt he could not bear ft. “Mi bel, look here, For goodness’ # don’t say you do think I ought to have let you know, I know I ought but J couldn't. And I'm not tn a state to go on niggling about ft. |foung Perch is killed and his mpther’s dead. Now for goodness’ sake, for pity’s sake, let It alone. 1 couldn't send and there's the end of it.” v1 Sabre, passed on from the ordeal (Continued Tomorrow) ee Violet and Barray, tn « taxicab, made their slow way thru a dancing city. Every few etreets bands of merrymakers sprang on the running board, thrust laughing faces tnto the cab and invited the two to come out and dance, or pelted them with con fetti and flowers, They reached a hopeless jam. The poor old cabby, with streaming face, besought high heaven to wit: ness he could go no further and fired volleys of picturesque argot “Drive on!” erled Barray to the (Copyright, 1922, by Seattle Star) | cabman, whe started forward, up to | Polly and Paull and Paris e Beckley (Copyright, 1921, by The Seattio tw) CHAPTER LXX—SIMON'S the heights of Butte Chaumont, At last they saw Simon's, A equat little house ft was, of cracked cement, set in a sterved yard boasting one gnaritd and twisted maple, ‘The windowy had a peering, furtive look, set up high as they were, £0 that those onside could not neo in, while those within could see out. Inside the narrow dow wan a bar lit with @ rusty hanging tantern and presided over by Simon with an tm: penetrable mask of a face, and hin assistant, a youth dressed in a self- consclous getup of apaihe—bulging | about oa stools, benches and wooden I must say 1 do| David has been to Auburn ‘Think of that! Auburn—that used to be called “Slaughter” in the early days. Auburn—which 1s lo- cated in the White River valley, not two miles away from the spot where that dreadful Indian massacre took place in 1555, Of course, daddy showed him the little granite monument which | { marks the spot, and of course David was hardly In the town be fore he was bunting around for somebody who could remember all about the massacre, and how the brave little King boy had escaped after the Indians had shot his father and carried his mother away. You remember that day— how Johnny King had heen taken away by @ crabbed old In4ian and how the Indian nad been directed to teke Johnny and hin iittle ais ter and the baby to the home, of Mr. Thomas and how tired the baby got. Poor little fellow, he was frightened and hungry, and lone some and he was only jurt learn- ing to walk, and his soft little A GOOD INDIAN de dediemenmenmmemmnmmeenmenneneeanth feet soon gave out and he couldn't even toddle along. So Johnny, only @ ‘years old himself mind you, picked him up | and ‘carried him! So they stumbled along and the Indian held Johnnie's hand and Johnny held his little sister's hand and they dragged so that the In | dian got angry, and with an ugly grunt, threw them into # fence corner Then Johnny said, “Don't ery, | please don’t cry, ‘cause they'll hear you and shoot us same as lthey shot father, We've got to | got somewhere and find somebody | to keep care of u “Want mama!" walled the baby, “I want my mama!” Johnny picked him up again and started off. They looked back at thetr little home nearly consumed by the fire (the Indians had mate a fire under the floor and burued it.) And all at once Johnny felt as if he couldn't bear it; he must find some one to help them. So he called and calied, and his own voice came back tn echo and he was more frightened than ever. (To Be Continued) corduroys, black cotton shirt, red sash and neckerchief, Violet and Barray passed thru the Ittle bar and ascended thres steps into a room thick with tobacco smoke and packed with people. It was lighted from overhend—a strong electric bulb, draped with a rag of red cheesecloth, the glare ending strongest In the center, leaving the corners of the room dim and mysterious. Rough tables— mere boards over trestles — were thickly set, and men and women sat boxes on end. Some of the men were full dressed with a tendency to loud. ness. Others were of the becapped, rusty type, who work when they havé to and frequent back streets in preference to highways. They spoke in sharp, staccato | volees, in the pinched patois of the |apache—almost tncomprehensibe to Violet, tho she knew French well. The women, like the mon, were young, @ few good-looking In a bold fashion, with raven, untidy hair and garish blouses open at the throat, Dwg or three werg eptirely in black, Rout faces overpainted, eyes overbright. Everyone who entered was subject- ed to scrutiny, sometimes with nar. rowed eyes, disapproving and hostile. Violet and Barray tried to find an inconspicuous corner, but had to be content with places at a long bench under the light’s full glare. The waiter came instantly to take their order. Barray tactfully ordered beer such as the others were drink. ing, and invited the proprietor, old Simon, to Join them, which he did to the extent of sipping a bit of the foam from Barray's glass, The crowd had begun to call on one of its favoritew—a thin, unwhole DON'T CARE TO REKD Ww ooo Now some looking chap in the harness of ® Bohemian—tong, flopping halr, @ velveteen coat with the collar of his white shirt turned over tt, @ brilliant’ bandanna knotted loosely, baggy, pegtop trousers that flapped gro tesquely. He recited something of his own fn atrocious verse, leering” unpleasantly tn the direction of Vio let and Barray. Barray glared. Viow let felt a score of sharp eyes upon her. A laugh came from somewhere, She saw Barray’s hands clench. . . « “George, don't—I implore you not to notice anything. It doesn't dim turb me. I—I'm enjoying tt." (To Be