The evening world. Newspaper, March 19, 1914, Page 17

a ue ae —— ° are + ee na 7 The Evening COMPL World Daily Magazi Wie ne, Thursday, March 19, 1914 The Adventures of a Wall Street Man |= —==| In a Country Estate of ——a ® Fi a 3 {litt 2 wend you here to-day, instead of coming him- eelt?” “Unaccountable. Per- Raps he flunked at the last moment ~ Me may have thought you would not his favors if offered directly. ‘de asked me to come. Me! Isn't , teat bad just what way?’ And so quiet- 41d she ask it that Nicholas should ave had warning. * “Why, he doesn't know how long I Rave waited for just such # chance. But you know, Adele; and now”’— “Please sit down, Nicholas.” Nicholas sat. Baffled, but still dig- ified, he regarded her with pleading @7ees across the table. “You used to tell me, Ad yeu loved"-— “Did 17 It's no wonder, for you ‘were forever mooning around asking me if I did. But that was a long time ago, Nicholas, and you mustn't take it up again. Really, you mustn't.” “Bus ¥ ark offering’ — “tes, fea, you were always offer- fmg, and it was very nice of you. But it’s no use. I can't listen to you mow. I simply can't.” « “T can imagine no reason why you @hould refuse to hear me say that I feve you and”—— “Well, there is a reason. ‘wagn't I should invent o1 > “I regret very deeply,” he began, St’ qvith great humility, “that anything © yn Mave just sald—" ze = “Now that's better,” sald the * Countess Vecchi, relenting cheerfully. ** When ‘you start regretting very o eeply you don't in the least mean It, > .bwt you're on the right track, Now *© forgive me for bringing you up s0 sharply; and let us finish our busi- » Mees. Ought I to accept all this 3%: ‘money for those shares?” 5%«\ wouldn't {t seem rather strange $e' ‘tor you to demand jess than ts of- “© fered?” “You're tight, Well, I accept, then, And I do. want to buy back our home ee here, But I feel I ought to deal di- -S#eeetly ‘with Mr. Devine himself in y matter. There are details, you ‘sy; Mnow, and I want to say a few things te kim about—well, you will see that Be cothes, will you? To-morrow, if "possible, Ip there anything else, go> Nicholas?” » If there was, Mr. Walloway could not think of it. So, assuming an air ef atately gloom, he stalked away from Hewington Acres. That evening | “ tl 8 that ? ry If there 4 ‘fee called up the “Cherub” and gave Bim A..le’a message. From his tone ;, the “Cherub” guessed the truth. he “Poor old Nick,” said the “Cherub,” as he hung up the receiver, “He's had his try-out, though, To-morrow it'll be up to me.” A: (| ‘CHAPTER XV. UB” Devine went emil- ingly out to Hewington Acres and into the pres- ence of the Countess Vecchi, What was to be the exact tiature of that interview he made no attempt to guess. Where the Countess was concerned he had given up mak- ’ dng plans, He was in the bands of * bie fate. *%. “Well, Countess, we smashed ‘em, ~ bo didn’t we? And you had a hand in \* (3! ft afterall. Nick told you, eh?” a “Yea, Nicholas bas told me, Mr, > Devine—told me ail about everything. \ In fact, he made quite @ full con- ” fitch over details?” ‘The Countens walked to a table and | picked ap a long document envelope, “1 merely wish to understand clear- v« Uy your proposals,” sho was saying. | 4: “Zoweent Mr, Walloway here to offer ] me this check and an opportunity to ‘ \ } | » “and it’s all right, tan't it? Any "poy back Hewington Acres for the to). Belee you paid, Is that correct? “That's O, K., Countess.” Mier “Also you confided to Mr. Wallo- > Way that you were—that you enter- \ tained certain sentiments of regard hia ter me You called it love, I be- 1 ino Bove” av “Eh? ejaculated the astonished “Cherub,” “4 don't care to speak plainer, Mr. i Devine. You know what I mean.” “Bay, Nick didn't give me away “) f° Me that, did he? Honest, he wasn't } \ B oad bs « * me ehump enough to let on that I said-- Oh, come, Countess, did he, now?” _ “ET have been more interested in (wendertig'fust why you ebould bave cenfided anything of the sort to any one. May I inquire if you have @pread this remarkable piece of news broadcast?” “Oueh! Say, Countess, that's what T call rubbing it in, You don’t think I would" —— “T am quite anxious to hope that you did not. To be made the topio of auch an intimate disclosure * * © and by a person whom I have known forauch ashort time * under @uoh peculiar conditions © * * you can fancy, perhaps, that I'd rath not dwell on itt” “Great Scott, yes’ groaned the “Cherub,” beginning to wipe his fore- head. “But give me a show here, Countess, I’m trying to think how I came to do the “I'm afraid I can’t share your in- terest in that problem. Let us not go into it any deeper, if you please. You told Mr. Walloway, and then”— “Ab, I remember, He wished me luck. Wasn't that nice of him, when”— The “Cherub” found himself gazing with fascinated intentness at a pair of brown eyes which seemed to his excited imagination to be emitting showers of sparks, like Roman candles, “When what?” spurred on the Countess. “Why, when—when he was in the same boat.” “So Mr. Walloway exchanged con- fidences, did he? Delightful!” “No, no! Nick didn’t say a word. I found it out by’ accident. Saw your picture in his locket, you know— and I'd heard about how he and you used to”— “Then why did you send him here “Why, I thought Nick ought to have his chance.” “You—you thought’—— The Coun- tes; Vecchi appeared to grasp his meaning but slowly. Her brown eyes no longer resembled any kind of fire- works, They regarded him with wide wonder, “You see,” continued the “Cherub” earnestly, “he's so much nearer your kind of a chap—in your class and all that—and I didn’t know how you stood, you know * © * why, it didn’t look just ht for me to butt in before * * * well, before you and Nick had a slic to make it up, if you wanted to. That's all. It was only rigni “T understand. I believe I have been told by some one that you had a codé of honor that was all your own, Well, have you heard what use Mr. Walloway made of his oppor- tunity?” “I had him call me up last night. I couldn't ask bim right out, you know, but"—~ “More delicacy!” murmured the Countess. “Oh, that's nothing for me. But I made him say enough so I could guess how he came out. You told bim he wouldn't do, didn't you?" “I tried to be entirely frank with Mr. Walloway, as I am now trying to be frank with you, Mr, Devine. I wish to ask you if my acceptance of this check is a purely business transaction?” “Why, sure!” “You would have paid as much to any one else?” “Been glad to." “And about your offer of Hewing- ton Acres?” “Straight business.” ‘J am put under no obligations, real or implied?" » at “I'm the one to say: obliged. 4 “Then I accept both proposals, and, as 1 suggested to Mr. Walloway, if there is nothing more” off the sentence with a signi upward inflection. “-Z-s-sing!" responded the “Cherub” under his breath, “Good afternoon, Mr. Devin As he had found her, so she stood when he turned to leave the library. A few resolute strides teok him back into the room where he had left he ‘Much Yountes: “Oh!" As she wheeled quickly toward him, saw who It was, realized that he was standing there looking at her, she dabbed furtively at her brimming eyes with a wholly tnade- quate handkerchief, “I—I thought, she went on, “that you had—had”—— “Yes, but I came back. You're not are you?” jg! Certainly not!” “Well, if I wast I'm not now. f shall not again—ever.” “That's right, You see, Countess, I'm going to feel badly enough about this fluke of mine to do for both of us. That's what I came back to say, I don’t know just how to put it, but if there’ nything I can do te make you forget that there's such a person as ‘Cherub’ Devine, I'll do it—even if it comes to Jumping off the dock." “There—there isn’t anything.” “Well, maybe it'll be some satisfac- tion to you to know that I feel like— well, like % off and nothing bid. Honest, I never meant to tell Nick. I was just going to’— the “Cherub” faltered, “You were going to do what?” sug- gested the Countess, “Why, to' spring it on you. Oh, I can guess what you would say to it, but—but— See bere, Countess, I / band of the hat. A man in the early couldn't help it. You're the best I ever knew, Just seeing you these few daya made things seem worth while. Why, I didn’t know what I was living for before. And then, before I knew how far I'd gone, I was seeing noth- ing but you. I wish I could tell you all about that, Countess,” “No, no, you mustn’ Again she turned to the draperies, hiding her flushed face in her handa, “Maybe if you hadn't read ao many of those newspaper yarns about me"— “It isn't that; truly it is not,” came in muffled tones from the Countess. “Of course, I can see where I don't measure up with the kind of men you've known, and I tried to keep that in mind all the time, but—well, 1 couldn't do it, that’s all, You see, I haven't had much use for women, I thought they were all alike, But you—you're different, Countess, I wish | was more like Nick. If I was, perhaps 1 could make you see how much I need you—how—- Oh, say, Countess, couldn't you just let me 0, no, don’t say it, please." This came faintly, for her face was still hidden, “All right, I won't.”. The “Cherub” seeméd to be swallowing the words. “Then I suppose it's—it's goodby?” He was near her now, quite near, in- specting with helpless masculine anxiety the outward aspects of her distress. He noted the subdued tremors which came d went with her sobs. “I'm sorry,” ho went on, “But Nick would have guessed it, anyway. Not all, though. He don't know how much * * * [ wish you knew, Countess; Iwish ° © Just why it; should have happened then, or at all, herub” Devine will never understand. But the inexpli- caple arrived, He was aware of a sudden déep sob, which seemed to shake from crown to heel the grace- ful figure before him. He heard a half articulated exclamation, saw her turn waveringly toward him, and in the next instant she was in his arms, Abruptly the old audacity bad rushed upon him, and be had accomplished the improbable. Nor did that complete the mir . She was clinging to bim, one soft arm against his cheek, her warmly tinted face raised to his, her moist brdwn eyes shining under long-lashed, hailf-closed lids, “I know. I have known,” she was whisperin one who pants out a message after a long, bard run, It was amazing, marvellous, The “Cherub” could hardly believe that it was true, Yet here she wag, all her sweetness and grace clasped in his arms. “Countess “Then then you——" “Yes, Cherub,” “And you will——* “No, no!" Suddenly she was no longer passive, She struggled to free herself, “Oh, you must leave me, There's aomething— I can’t tell you, But I can't see you agaln—perhaps not for years, Oh, you must #o away!" “Go!" echoed the “Cherub.” he breathed, “Yes, go and forget, Indeed you must, Please go.” “Yes, yes, Countess, I'll go; but not until" Impetuously he drew her face up to his until their lips met. It was no hasty, inaccurate perform- ance, Ho made a thorough and highly satisfactory job of it before whe could slip away from him. “Now 60, 60; pleased. “It's the last thing I'd want to do," ‘ please gu!" she ®QHOOOSG ODODODDHHOOSHOOSS sald the “Cherub,” “but if you say 1 must °° “Oh, indeed you must! I've been weak, wickedly weak! And you must go away. No, don’t look at me again, nor remember me. Go!" Without in the least trying to fathom this mystery, conscious only of one established and wonderful fact, “Cherub” Devine reluctantly obeyed. Whether he walked soberly down the carriage road, or whether he floated through the air, he could not have told, He had a vague recollection of having slapped Eppings on the back, of having waved away @ waiting car- riage. Only when he reached the big atone gates wus he suffictently composed to take note of concrete objects, And then he realized that some one was peering at him from behind a bunch of shubbery. N! CHAPTER XVI. OW, one doesn't expect to find a man In frock coat and silk hat dodging behind bushes on a place like Hewington Acres, Yet “Cherub” Devine had come to associate that particular part of Long Island with all sorts of surprises, He was inclined to accept this new manifestation as part of the general programme. It appeared that this new arrival had intended to see without being seen, but he had not been quite quick enough. Without stopping to consider just why he was doing it, Mr. Devine promptly joined in the game by stepping into the shrubbery also. His action was due more to impulsive instinct than to logical curiosity. Besides, his mood fitted just that sort of enterprise. The erub’a” next move was [0 part the bushes cautiously and peer through. He discovered the stranger doing the same thing. Then began & series of manoeuvres participated In by the allk-hatted individual and tho new president of the P. Z. & N, rail- road, Although somewhat heavy and en- tirely unused to this sort of thing, the “Cherub” was light of foot and sur- prisingly agile, But the atranger's movements were still more lively. Twice the “Cherub” atole stealthily around a bush, sure of having exe- cuted a successful flank movement on the unknown, only to find that he had disappeared like a flash, Once he caught a glimpse of him darting across an open etretch of lawn with the speed of a Marathon champion. “Too much of a sprinter for me,” mused the “Cherub.” “I'll have to use tactics.” Taking off his etraw hat, he bal- anced it carefully on the top of & rhododendron and began making & cautious detour, To walk in @ stoop. ing position for any distance, one needs to be in good condition, and a 38 waist measure doesn't help. The “Cherub” was already red of face and breathing heavily, when he suddenly rounded a little thicket of stunted fre and found himaelf within arm's length of a slender, sallow-faced person, who was holding a silk hat behind him and intently gazing at the crown of @ straw one which showed above a bush wome twenty yards away, pn a side view from behind was enough to reveal the foretgner, for the jet black mustache and the little un- derlip tuft that curled over the chin were distinctly of alien cut and ‘trim, Then there was the word “Roma” plainly atamped on the leather eweat- thirties, he looked to be. Just at that moment his whole at- titude was one of alertness; from the angle at which be held his head to the polse of bis bedy, one foot advanced, ready for an instant change of base. Bilently and with much good humor the “Cherub” regarded him for a few @econds. Then, with an audible chuckle, he stepped up, tapped him on the shoulder and obeserved in- quiringly: “Well? What's the game?” The stranger should have jumped, thrown up his hands, and uttered @ome picturesque exclamation in a foreign tongue. At least he might have exhibited a decent amount of surprise. But he did not. He was an amazingly cool sort. He merely turned quickly, measured Mr. Devine with one flash of his keen brown eyes, lifted his brows expressively and shrugged his shoulders. “Bah! A trick!” he commented. “Why not? Didn't you start this hide-and-go-seek business? Now per- haps you'll tell me what it is all ) about.” ‘The stranger's response to this was litely impudent stare. ‘I. do not quite understand,” he sald, with just the elighfest foreign ac- cent. “No? drawied the “Cherub,” mock- ingly. “Then there’a two of us in the dark. But perhaps we can clear matters up. I found you ekulking in the bushes, Now why?” A flush of color appeared under the dark olive of the stranger's face, He stiffened and replaced the silk hat with much dignity. “Beg pardon, air, but I do not rec- ognize your right to question me in that manner.” “Whe—e—e—e What a haughty little man it ie!" laughed the “Cher- ub." “Ab, come down off the step- ladder! A minute or two ago you were dodging around as guilty as if you'd robbed a fruit stand, Now, what are you up to?” There waa no threatening note in Mr. Devine's words, but much earn- estness. The ailk-hatted person eyed him attentively while he was speak- ing, but when he had finished he turned, produced a cigarette, and pro- ceeded to light it with calm indiffer- ence. Not until he had enjoyed eev- eral soothing puffs did he make any retort, 1 y “I am attending to my own affairs, sir, “Then I'll help you,” sald the “Cherub,” “for I'm a good deal inter- ested in this place and what ts going on here.” “Indeed Again shrugged his shoulders. know you, air.” “Didn't act as if you wanted to, eit But here's where we get ac- quainted, just the same. My name's Devine—'Cherub’ Devin “Eh? Wha gasped the stranger, staring incredulously. “Why—er—a thousand pardons, Mr. Devine; allow me,” and he hastily brought out a card case. “Lulgl Salvatore y Vecchi," read the “Cherub,” with some hesitancy in pronouncing names. “Vecchi, eh? Ah, I seo! Some relation of the late Count's?” ‘The stranger smiled Indulgently. ‘fam known as Count Vecchi.” Had the “Cherub” been at all emo- tional, he would bave gasped then. As it was, he nearly did, but seemed to recover in time, “Oh, then you're the new one?” Once more the amile of indulgence. “No, T have been Count Vecchi for # good many years.” 3ut--but you're not the Count Vecchi who—who married Miss liew- ington?” “I have that honor.” It was the “Chorub’ incredulously, “See her he maid protestingly, “elther you're @ dead Count or a live Har, and I guess the last description fits best. Come, come! You've sprung that bluff on the wrong person. [ happen to know, my friend, that the real Count Vecchi bas been dead for a couple of years, Now what have you got to say to that?” “I can only quote the words of your own great humorist, that ‘the report of my death have been greatly exag- werated.’ However, I admit that such reports were circulated. But here 1 am, you see,” “All a mistake, was it? And you've come over to give the Countess a pleasant little surprise, eh?” “I hardly think the Countess will be surprised,” and the Count lifted his black eyebrowa moeaningly Instantly the situation cleared for the “Cherub.” So that was what she had meant by her mysterious pro- testa? “Oh, ho! Then she knew all along that--that— Ob, come! do you think I can swallow that? Why, say, you blamed bush dodger, do you expect me to believe she would deliberately tell mo"—- “Ab, but that's just the point,” broke tn the Count. “Did she?” And, when he came to think it over, the “Cherub” could not recall that the Countess Vecchi had ever the stranger “But I don't * turn to ature said or implied that ber husband was dead. “No—o—o, I guess she didn't, But every one elxe about tie place’—— “Wa quite probable,” answesed the Count. “The wish, you know, ts father to the thought, Probably you are aware of the fact that as a hus- band and son-in-law I am quite eatisfactory. Doubtless Mr. Howing ton puta tt even stronger than that.” “He hasn't to me.” “How considerate of him! But the Countess, I'll venture to aay, doean't hesitate to credit me with all the vices.” “Guess you've forgotten that she ‘was @ lady before ehe was a Count- ess. I'll bet she hasn't spoken your name for a year,” “She feels aa bitterly as that, docs ahe?” The Count laughed more or lesa convincingly. “It strikes me that you don't help matters much by coming over: here and playing tag around her shrub- bery,” suggested the “Cherub.” “Very true. I don't enjoy it, either. I'd much rather be home in Villa Lu- gano, oF spending @ holiday in Mon- aco, T might add to that,” “Cherub,” “that it's apt to be a heap safer for you, too, I don’t often in- terfere in family affairs, but I'm go- ing to drop this hint to you now: If you should be found bothering the Countess, I think you'd be damaged some. “Ah! A knight protector!” and the Count showed his white teeth In an unpleasant smile. rub” Devine merely shook bie head placidly. “I was thinking of Timmins,” said he, “He's the head coachman and general superintendent of the place here, and he thinks a lot of the Countess, I'm going back now and tell him to keep an eye out for you, and I shouldn't bo surprised, if he caught you trying to force yourself on the Countess, to hear at he'd handled you rather roug! “Merci!” murmured the Count, quite undisturbed. “But there's no danger, You may assure the valiant Timmins that I haven't the least intention of BeeiIng the Countess, much lene of speaking to her, 1 had much rather, talk to her attorneys.” “Want to see her lawyers, eh? Well, she don't keep them out here in the bushes.” This time the Count indulged tp quite a genuine smile, “My dear Mr. Devine,” he pro- tested, ‘'you- don’t understand: the situation. Perhaps if you did you could be of help to me. Allow me to state, then, that it was not to re- vive a long dead sentiment which brought me to America, but a sor- did ttle matter of money. To be definite, there was a marriu, ettle- ment; @ paltry affair in the shape of & promised yearly income. At first it was pald in full and regularly; then the payments came at Irregular in- tervals and were only partial; of late they have ceased. I am informed by Mr. Howington that he finds it impossible to continue them. As though I would believe that! So I come here to see for myself If the oald the rich Mr. Hewington has suddenly become a beggar. And this is what 1 find!" Count Vecchi shrugged his shoul- ders, spread out his palms and indl- cated the broad expanse of Hewing- ton Acres witb @ comprehensive nod of the head. *‘ “Think you'y the "Cherub, “Such an estate does not suggest poverty to me, Now I am prepared to interview the attorneys of my got ‘em, eb?” asked wife, the Counters.” ‘Brought all the papers along, | suppose?” queried the “Cherub.” “Papers! There were no papers. But 1 had Mr. Howington’s word of honor that the should be paid.” A twinkle of resentment appeared ia the blue eyes of Mr. Devine. “Imagine you can collect on that do you?" he asked. “I can make the attempt. It de- pends, I suppose, on what value Mr. Hewington sets upon his word, and whether or not he t» willing to have his pleasant ttle fiction as to @ de- funct son-in-law exposed. What do you think?" It must be conceded that there was a certain quality of engaging frank- ness in the Count’a manner. Quite cheerfully and openly he sought the “Cherub's” advice in this enterprise, Mr. Devine could appreciate audacity, He grinned, “L think you're a alick articl d he, “and I should say you had got em, Looks to me ap if Mr, Hew- ington would either chloroform you, or buy you off.” Count Vecchi indulged in @ non- chalant shrug. “Lask only what is justly due. One cannot live without money.” “There's more or lows truth In that, Count; only" and Mr, Devine pursed bis cheruble mouth quizsically —"over here we don’t make @ practice of choking our wives to get It." ° The Count waved aside “Bah!” thin reference to his brief domestic career, “Over here I shall make my demands through madame's legal rep- resentative “You're improving on them to-day!" “As soon as 1 can get @ mensage to the Countess and ‘earn the names of her attorneys, "Ob, I'see, Now walt—let me think Going to call that over @ minute.” The “Cherub” rubbed his pink chim thoughtfully. “You say you don’t insist upom see- ing the Countess personally? All you want is tl dress of ber lawyers?” ‘The Count nodded. } ike “Then I'll tell you what we might papers, and T'é te do,” suggested Mr. Devine. “Let's go iddnapper. No, my Gear up and ask Timmins to find out. We Count, it wouldn't do at all.” can get to bis office without being “But you can't keep mo here So seen, What do you say?” Couat. ri ‘The Count waa willing. ward, ee On reaching the office “Cherub” left to be re the Count outside and went in alene to consult Timmins, “Ever see a picture of Count Vecchi?” be asked of Timmins, Yes, Timmins bad, but not for o couple of years. “Take a squint through the window at the chap outside,” eaid Mr. Devine. “Did the picture look anything like him? Timmins peered through the glass and announced that he thought he could see a resemblance. “Yes, very like him, sir,” be went on. “Then that's him,” “Cherub.” ‘The little eyes of Timmins bulged z = il a irs es dl 1 j zs Fs bee necessary orders with Timmins, he found himself facing Mr. ton. Astonishment was stamped o@ every line of the old gentleman's arte tocratic countenance i “Why—why, Mr. Devine! Yeu to be holding a conversation with Person in there,” and he indlented the closed door of the tee house. i declared the with astonishment. “Guess I was” admitted the “Not the one that they agid was*—- “Cherub” : , but he saya he isn't. Claime “How singular! and—er—migh?' I— he never died at all. Now what do er—ask"— you guess he's here for?" “Judging by what I've heard, air, I should say he might be after money.” “Timmins, you're @ mind reader. That's just what he ts after. He wants to make une of the fact, too, that the Hewingtons have allowed people to think he was dead. It's a hold-up, Timmins.” “Why, the sneaking, unmannerly villain exploded Timmins, ‘He ought to be puf in jail, wir.” “Wouldn't do at all, Timmins, He's supposed to be dead. You can't jail adead man. nd I take it that th Countess wouldn't like to have husband dug up and exhibited court.” “She'd expire of mortifications bies> ‘erhaps not as bad ag that. ‘But something ought to be done with him, What's that little stone coop without any windows down there by the swan lake?" “That's the ice house, sir.” “Full up, a it?” - ' “OR, No, sit; Not Row, sir. it's very, “Suppose you don't,” put in the “Cherub.” “ft would simplify mat- tora « lot if you didn't.” 4 cally, Mr. Dovine, it seems te me that I should be informed of any*— “All right,” eaid the “Cherub,” with & gesture of resignation. “There’sthe, gentleman's card.” As Mr. Count Vecchi an expression ef eom- Picte consternation, not te say pamtc, opread over his features. i “Impossible!” he whispered boatee- iy “Just what I thought whee be Sprung it on me," commented the “Cherub.” “I told him 86 wae & @ead one. He says he isn't. But we can foon settle that. I'l opes the, and lot you have a look at him, “No, ao!* hastily protested ‘Mer. Howington, at.the time backing: away. “I-I prefer; to II will take his word for “Tien thé Count ten'e dada, 6 v in WE “About two years ago the’ Count near empty, I think. “Room for a cot bed and a chair "&ame sp dissipated het iheup pee. oF no, is there?” Wp vay do cates him 2.9 opitercim, Timmins grinned expressively. }o disappeared trom haugts. Thin gave risé.to the rumon wan dead. It was #0! réported Naturally, the Countess” propriate mourning garb. wooks later we learntd the of the rumor, The Count was the sanitarium, and much by bis stay there. But this fact was “Plenty of room, sir.” . “How about -, Timmina?” “Wacellent ventillation, | sir, to be, you know.” “Good! Now you slip out the back way and go down will you? Go Inside and shut the door.’ When you hear me knock you'll know I've come with a caller. Get the ides, "°t made public. Perhaps we should en?” nave issued the correction ourselves, Do |, air! Oh, my eye! Oh, my PUt—but-— Well, it seemed beat mot eye!" to da a0, Thero was a chance that ‘And, with one hand over hia mouth, “{ @PY thme we might—er—well, that ‘Timmons disappeared. he might--might"—-- “L wee," aald the “Cherub.” CHAPTER XVII. instead of that, he gets well and HE ico house at Hewington Shows uP ar cana ee beso Acrea was a moat aubstan- him.” tial building, far more eo “The impudent scoundreif* « than 1ce houses need to be, Sisimed Mr. Hewington, Ufving In the upper door panel was a dia- mond shaped design of auger hole aingle penny more shall hs ¢ver.| Standing outside and looking up at from me." “That's the talk! I woulds't these perforations wan “Cherub” De- vine, He was not etudying the de- : oe 1 up to him, if I were you, Gaya if he isnt paid he'll tring end advertise the fact that’ hue align, He was talking to some unseen alive.” + person behind the thick door, con- Devine,” said Hewington,. thie versing eanily and pleasantly in apite Must not be. That man must of be allowed ” of the handicap. ‘True, he was on the nee » “Oh, I'll attend to that, all right. free aide of the d That makes @ y difference, of course. beige bis le ¥ mile Ape Fae ‘Through the augur holes the Count “writ was ahouting that Mr. Devine, the you, will you?” gasped Countess, Mr. Hewington and Tim. Mewington, gratefully. “Ak, whet mins should all pay dearly for this Dility of soul! I thank you from bottom of my heart, Mr. Devine, high-handed out ‘J ! outage see, I could hardly accept “Why not atick to me?” asked the °8 $37 “Cherub.” “I did this all oa my own SPonsibility of taking evch hook.” myself, but if you"—— & “You's “Yeu, I get the idea. You're williag You're a cursed Yankee pig!” howled the tmprisoned Count. I should do the kidnapping. Well, FM “Sorry you're so stirred up over & one “But not @ word to the Younteas. It," soothingly observed the “Cherub.” “Kidnapper!” shrieked the Count. “Not @ word,” promised Mr, ; “Guilty!” responded the “Cherub.” ington, “And in a month or ae I will “How long do you mean to keep me build another ice house for ment locked up in this vile place?” eummer’s use.” “Wish I knew myself,” aid the ‘For next summer!” and the “Cher- “Cherub” regretfully. ub's” gaze widened as the full eigni®- “Y'll make it hot for you when I get cance of this remark became clear to out.” him. “Then you're planniag te give “Bure! And for the Hewingtons, the Count good long term, eh? too, | expect?” ‘Well aay, th nothing slow abows “You'll both have to pay for this as soon as I'm free.” “There! you eee!” exclaimed the you, is there? Whew! have to think that over.” (To Be Continued.) jete Nov THE SHIP OF CORA By H. de Vere Stacpoole WILL BEGIN IN a