The evening world. Newspaper, December 17, 1904, Page 8

- “" at 4 as . ~ . % 4 ¥ good stairs now," as the sound of hurried pattering steps reached them from below, “Come this way!” and he dragged his daughter along the ball, just as @ figure appeared above the opening of the stairs, “It's no use, father, It's no use,” murmured Gertrude, “phere i¢ no way out,” He turned with « snart toward the stairway, his hands raised as If to repel the new comer. “Not a step farther—not a step!" he cried, “Hush!” came in a cautious volce. “I'm the doctor's wife, and I'll show you how to get out.” As the figure approached they saw that it was Mrs. Solaro, panting and out of breath from her sudden climb from below. “Can we trust her?” asked George Etheridge, tyrning to bis daughter, “Perfectly.” “LAsten,”’ continued Mrs, Solaro, breathlessly. ‘They were looking for you below—in front of the house. I locked thom in. There were only two, but the house, I think, is surrounded.” She led them to the roof and gave them hasty directions as to their best means of escape. Gertrude helped her father up the ladder. “Il will go ahead. father. You can hold on to my skirt until I have the trap open.” “Yes, yea, child, but do make haste, Can't you hear those devilg already on the etairs?” She mounted the ladder slowly, with Etheridge dragging at her dress. She had not known how weak she was until she attempted to do a manual task. “I can't—I can't raise il! I am not sirong enough,” she whispered, with a choking sob, “Come down! Come down! Let me try,"’ he said, roughly. She could hear his own labored breathing as he worked with muttered é@jacu- lations, and now and then a‘stifled cry of paln, when he wrenched his wounded arm. “Where does this door lead?" a loud volce was heard from without, “To the roof!" was the reply in the well-remembered voice of Dr. Solaro, “It's locked. Where's the key?" . “My vife as it.” “Well, we've no time to look for her; we must break it In.” Gertrude Etheridge, who had been listening to this dialogue in a state of frightened silenoe, felt a tug on her sleeve, a breath of cold air on her face, “Come, Gertrude, the way is open,"’ came in a whisper from Etheridge. He had succeeded. She followed him up the steps. He climbed softly on to the roof, and, with his well arnt, helped her to follow. “Keep away from the edge of the house; they may see us in the street,” he whispered as he let the trap fall, “Come, follow me." He ran tightly over the flat gravelled roof, keeping as much as poasible in the shadow of the chimneys, and Gertrude, weary, and in a half-fainting condttton, followed, ‘Keep an eye on those fellows behind,” he said in a low voice, @eem to be doing nowt” “I can't see. The light Is too faint. & moment, they go on.” “I goa. They are trying the traps. That will take them some minutes, He rose to his feet. ‘There seems to be no one in the treet below. I suppose they are #UR guarding th) doctor's house. Listen, Gertrude. Directly under here ihere ia & Uttle tron balcony projecting over the street. We can't stay here much longer. We mum reach that!" She nodded to show that she understood, “I must make @ leap for kK. I may fall. It may give way. Well, you will be #0 much the better off." “And what shaW I do?” “Remain here; but no, that would only bring them down on me, and I should gain nothing.” a will foflow you, father, You must not leave me here,” she said firmty, drew her to him with a rough gesture of caress and patted ber on the “What do they Now they pause and stoop and then, after “You're a good girl, Gertrude, I-I almost wieh I'd fall, for then you would not have t@ follow. But you will be risking your life!" “Tl de it You can stand and catch me in your arms, wounded as you are!"’ “Look! they are coming,” he said, pointing back, and the shadowy figures in the background became more distinct. ‘The time has come,” said Etheridge, set- ling hie teeth together with a click. “We must act.” Without anather word he threw himself down on the edge of the roof, and despite his woundsd arm, which must have caused him exquisite pain, swung him- self over the edga and disappeared. Bhe watched him go with beating heart, expecting to hear a cry—the sound of ®@ heavy falling body. Instead a husky wisper reached her from below, calling name. She drew near the edge and then stepped back as she eaw how far @ street lay below—what a vast gulf stretched beneath her feet, “Come,” and she saw her father’s face raised toward hers. She clambered Weakly over the edge, and, clinging with both hands to the parapet, chosed her eyes and ket go, It seemed hours that she shot through space. Had she missed the balaony? Bhe hardly felt that she cared. Then a sudden shock, a tightening grasp about her and she opened her eyes, She was in her father’s arms, and he stooped and preased a kiss on her forehead, “Brave girl!” he murmured. “I never deserved such a daughter!” The girl's daring had touched him more deeply than perhaps anything else could have done, and he was really moved. The little iron balcony on which they were sianding must have served the In- mates of the tenement as a larder, for several pots and covered vessels stood about, aad a basket containing ontons and potatoes. “We are not safe yet.”” murmured Ethelridge, looking up at the roof uneasily, “They want me too badly to give up the search until after a long effort. I believe that I hear thom tramping about overhead now.” “Your fancy, father. I heard nothing," said the girl. “Maybe go, but I should be glad to be further away from them. I suppose this is one of the obd-clathes places like the rest of the block, We must not stop here. They are sure to see us as soon as they reach the last house,” and he drew up close to the window that opened on the balcony and tried to peer In, “Then he set his shoulder against the top of the sash. A crackling sound and the windaw went slowly In. “Walt here a morment,"’ he said, and then disappeared inside the house. It seomed to Gertrude that he was gone for hours when she saw him again at the window. “Come in,” he whispered, beckoning to her. She obeyed silently. “There is no one here,"’ be sald, as he closed the window. “We may be able to snatch a few hours’ reat.” She remembered only stumbling about over what seemed to be bales of goods that lay thickly about the floor, of hearing the sound of loud voices as it seemed from Une roof above, then of sinking down and falling sound asleep. CHAPTER VI, The last Legs. ATE that evening Richard Draycott reached his rooms and there found awaiting him a soiled, ill-spelled letter. It ran: Lf you want to nd ie Dy leek, Ser tae at Deokee in River Street, She aint well, and it would do her good if some tak her away whe aint well and might wet Wworrs ahd It int the piace Tor & nice youn Whe man annyhowe, Twenty minutes later Draycott was outside Sotaro’s door, For a time he battered madly on the panels without being able to get an an- swer. Then suddenly he felt the touch of a hand on his shoulder and turned to confront—Pendrick, the detective, “Well, I hardly expected to see you in this neighborhood at this time of night,” sald whe latter. “We have had busy times here—a wild chase”—— “I don't care about that!” exclaimed Draycott, excitedly, “I want to get into tho house of this infernal doctor. I received @ note saying that Gertrude Ether- tage was here—you know—the young woman I askéd you to fina, ’ It was the deloctive's turn to be surprised, “What, not the daughter of that"—— then he paused. “What do you wean by your gibberish, man?’ and Draycott clutched him by the sleeves. “I have reason to know that this young woman is Insi.c the house, I won't leave you, and I want you to help me get in.” “Come away,” said the detective gently. “There |s no wae of your trying te get in that house, She was there, but is there nd more.’ Draycott, stupefied and hardly understanding the atatitaade words, allowed himself to be led down the steps, and they proceeded in silence through the dark street, “Hear me out and don't be angry at what I shall tell you,” sald the detective, as (hey paused on the corner, «~romise me that?” “I'll promise you anytaing if you can only tell me where I can find Gertrude Etherftige,” replied Draycott, “I am going to be cruel--I am going to be hard!” “Talk on.” “She was an inmate of the doctor’s house, but she has gone. It waa her father that we were after. She followed him after we had traced him to Solaro’s house, We had a long-standing account against George Etheridge’— “And where is the scoundrel now? Oh, I would give a good deal to meet bin face to face,” muttered the young man bitterly, “And so would I, But, you see, the fact is that the scoundrel eluded us. We were locked in the lower part of the house, and he took the opportunity to reach the roof, taking his daughter with him,” “And where are they now?" asked Draycott, looking up and down the misty street, “That 1 cannot tell you," replied Pendrick, “We forced the door and reached the roofs, and, though we hunted high and low and examined every house and with our men in the street, we could not find them.” Draycott breathed a sigh of relief. If the girl had followed her father In the hour of his pert, it must be because she loved him, and he could not wholly hate &@ man whom Gertrude loved. He was her father! He thought he knew her loyal nature so well that he did not wonder that she had stood by him when he was in peril, “And what is to be dove now?’ ing to himself, “To be done? I'm afraid nothing bere. When I took the job of attempting to find the young lady I did not bargain on having to deal with a criminal father, Here is where the law steps in and sentiment steps out,” replied tne detective, coldly, The professional tone in which he spcke grated on the Young man's ears, “You will consider our transaction at an end,” he sald. “I wish nothing more to do with you,” and he went down the steps quietly, while the detective shrugged his shoulders and laughed softly to bimself. ’ +Draycott felt an unreasonable anger, He could not understand why it should be necessary to take such drastic measures against a man who was the father of the girl he loved, He seemed to think that a special leniency should be shown Etheridge because he was Gertrude’s father, He had not proceeded far-along the block when he heard soft steps behind him, and, turaing quickly, he saw what seemed to be a hand reaching out of the shadow of the doorway into the moonlight, making strange gestures, “I heard all you said—all,’ came in a harsh voice from the shadows as he drew near. He could not see the man’s face, for he kept back in the dark of the doorway. “This here Etheridge was an old pal o' mine, and I can’t go back on him, though I gave Pendrick a promise to run him down, They are on the top story of the corner house, The man and the gal. I seen ‘em drop down from the roof to the balcony and climb through the winder. Now, don't you give me¢ away,” and Draycott was conscious of a shadow flying past him and disappearing in the night. He watched the man go. dreamily wondering If this was not all a fancy pro- duced by his wearlness and sluepless nights, Thea, as he thought it over agaia as One might review a past experience, he shook his head, “This is no dream, If this fellow has spoken the truth I must find Gertrude, and if need be save her father,” Gertrude Etheridge could not have slept long before she felt some one tugging at her sleeve, It was not insistent enough to awaken her, and she turned over on the soft bale of gooda on which she had fallen and fell asleep again. “Gertrude! Gertrude!" a voice whispered hoarsely in her ear. She awoke now. The sound of that voice rang in her eara, In the gloom she ralsed herself wearily, “What is it, father?” as the exciting events of the night flashed over her and yet left her strangely apathetic. “I hear some one at the door,’ nruitered George Etheridge, ‘I--I''—— and he advanced toward the door with a threatening gesture. As he did so it opened and @ man appeared on the threshold, “I won'l be taken! I won't be taken!" growled Etheridge, as he flung himself on the other, Then began a dreadful struggle, back and forth, stumbling and falling over the bales of goods that encumbered the floor. "You fool, I have come to save you,” said Richard Draycott, flinging him off. “But where is your daughter?’ for at the sound of his nanve Gertrude Etheridge had sought to hide herself amang the shadows. “And who are you?” asked Wtheridge, struggling to his feet, where he had been thrown, They stood together fur a moment by the window with the light full on thelr faces “I know you now,” sald Draycott sadly, and this is your daughter,” as a shadowy figure rose up in the background. Gertrude moved a few paces toward the two men and then would have re treated if Draycott bad not stepped forward and caught her in his arms, “Do you suppose this would matter to ne, darting?” and he stooped and kissed her lips. “No, nothing can matter now,” and he drew her into the moonlight and looked down longingly into her face, ‘I won't ask you why you have run away from me,"' he murmured, “I don't want to know. I am only glad that I have you in my arms once again!” She said nothing, but only drew her arms closer about him, “When you are quite through,” said George Etheridge, breaking In, “perhaps you can help me out of this muss. We were old friends once, Mr. Draycott.” “Yea once, but never agaln, But if I can help you to get away—for your daughter's sake 1'll do it.” The conversation was cut short by a thundering rap on the door. “They have found you out,” sald Draycott. “What can I do for you—you for your daugtvter’s sake?" “Did you bring 'em down on me?" growled Etheridge. “If I thought you did@"’—and he advanced threv.teningly toward the younger man. “Fool! Do you suppose I came here to betray you? Not for your sake, but Gertrude’s, I am going to try to save you,” “Howt How?" murmured the unfortunate man, as he ran about the room like a rat in a cage. The thundering knocks on the door continued, “Open if you don’t want the door broken down!” “Pendrick!” gasped George Etheridge, give them the slip.” He rushed to the window and raised it. “You are wounded, father; take care,” and Gertrude Etheridge broke away from her lover's arms and tried to hold him back. “I tell you that these people will never be satisfied unless they have my life, Let them take ft If they can!" He was on the balvony now, and they saw what he was aiming at. On the other side of the alley a window on the third story stood open. He made a fiying leap for thia window just as the door of the room was broken im, and Pendrick, In advance, with a couple of men at his heels, ran forward. Draycott had sald a few quieting words to his future wife, and had kept her away from the window as they ali pressed out on the balcony. George Etheridge for a moment fumbled at the sl of the window In an attempt to grasp It, tried to leap upward, and then with a hoarse cry lost his hold and fell! Gertrude heard it and guessed ho possible meaning, but Draycott drew her away. When they gathered about the poor remains of the victim of the accident Sam- wel Pendrick looked down on the still fave of that dend man, and sald to himself: “John Pendieton ig dead—George Etheridge |s dead. Peace be to thelr ashes!" (THE END.) he asked, with the alr of a man who Is talk- “It's all up with me unless I can NEXT SATURDAY’S NOVEL which will be given with THE EVENING WORLD is “THE MARCH OF THE WHITE GUARD,” by Gilbert Parker, a thrilling story of betrayal, sacrifice and great love.