The evening world. Newspaper, July 9, 1914, Page 17

ne « mi Bev x Wa Se SYNOPSIS OF PRECEDING CHAPTE: jagch hitesel dome rain Ford, divore Hionaire, Hani has dirs, Ford wants to steal 5 ' nett Tandon, Where "Oeden te iu. tl, with « diew to Kidnap: . Many crooks have tried to kidvap irom time us path Ii hold him for alten en ere, the bo: Nehoemed She ‘One sie attemiit le crate. sccm b The uit is x nl knocks Burns a » Sheridan arrives during the it, She has teen sent by Fort to help in “The Little Nugget.” Burne recognises Ayres, now « wile, And, against bie “nde himself ati! in ‘tore with her, He oe te \ let in London. be. lo Mr. Ford, “'smonth peal Rideaper, alo Tela ta act the, oy. ro, jurna finde him at @ ehikiren’s 12 London, ‘ CHAPTER XVII. (Continued) THINK they both saw me at the same moment. The ef- fect of my appearance on them was illustrative of their respective characters. Augustus turned a deep shade of Purple and fixed me with a horrified @tare. The Nugget winked, Augus- tus halted and shuffled his feet. The Nugget strotied up and accosted me Uke an old friend. “Hello,” he said. “How did you get here? Say, I was going to try and get you on the phone some old time and explain things. I've been pretty much on the jump since I bit Lon- don.” “I shall be glad to listen.” “It's like this, It suddenly odturred to me that a day or two one \.ay or the other wasn't going to affect our deal, and that while I was about it I might just as well see a bit cf London *,pefore I loft. I suggested it to Becky, and the idea made the biggest kind of a hit with hin. I found he had only been In an automobile once in hie Mfe. Can you beat ity I've had one of my own ever since I was @ kid. Well, naturally, it was up to me to blow him to a joy ride; and thi where the money went.” : the money went?" jure. I've got about two dolla left and that's all. It wasn't a gerber the automobiling. lt was the meals that got away with my roll. Bay that ki® Beckford is one swell feeder! Ho's wrapping himself around the eats all the time. I guess it's not smoking that does it. 1 haven't t appetite 1 used to have. Weil, that how it was, you see; but I'm through now. Cough up the fare and I'll make the trip to-morrow. Mother'll be Uckled to death to see me.’ je wont see you. W back to the ecl te- mOFTOW. “iq not golng back eobool!! You duren't take you be if I tell the hot about our deal ean slipping me ney and all that?” . Perel Nin what you like, He won't jeve it.” He thought this over and its truth came to him, ‘The complacent expres- ft his face. ae, old sport,” I said cordially, “"£ think we've both had all we want of this children’s party. You're bored, 1 can eee, and if1 stay here for an- otber half-hour I may be called on to entertain these infants with comic songs, We men of the world are above this sort of thing. Get your hat ‘Wag coat and I'll take you to a show, ‘We can discuss busincas later over & it of supper.” one sivom of his countenance melted into a pleased smile. . “You said something that time!” he observed joyfully; and we slunk away to get our hats, the best of friends, TE left with the butler a note for Augustus Beckford, requesting his presence at Waterloo Station at ten minutes past twelve on the follow! morning without fail. There was certain informality about my methods which I doubt if Mr. Abney would ave wholly approved, but I felt that T eould rely on Augustus. Much may be done by kindness, By the time the curtain fell on the musical comedy which we had at- tended all wan peace between the Nugget and myself. Supper cemented our friendship, and we drove back to my rooms on excellent terms with each other. Half an hour later he was snoring in the spare room, while I amoked contentedly before the fire fa the sitting room. had not been there five minutes when the bell rang. Smith was in bed, so I went to the door myself and found Mr. Fisher on the mat. My feeling of benevolence toward all created things, the result of my successful handling of the Little Nugget, embraced Sam, 1 invited n. Miwa. I said, when I had given ‘him a cigar and filled his glass, “and hew have you been getting on, Mr. Fisher? Any luck?” shook his head at me reproach- ly. ‘Young man, you're deep. I've got te hand it to you. I underestimated » You're very deep!” “Approbation from Smooth Sam Fisher is praise indeed, But why these stately compliments “Young man, this is a critical mo- ment. This is where, if you aren't careful, you may undo all the good work you have done by getting ehesty and thinking that, because you've won out so far, you're the Whole show. Believe me, the difficult Lordy fa to come, and it's right here That you need an experienced man te work in with you, Let me in on this, and leave the negotiations with ol4 man Ford to me. You would only make a mess of them, I've handled this kind of thing a dozen times, and I know just how to act. You won't regret taking me on as & er, You won't lose a cent by It. ree work him for at least double What you would get, even supposing yeu didn’t make a mess of the deal hing.” MAR Ret a heed of you, but there ‘Ideal Sommer Stor THE LITT iN pat et quit won't be any negotiations with Mr. Ford, I taking the boy back to I told you.” hall travel back together,” he ‘| had hoped I had ween the last of the place. The English countrystd may be delightful, but for winter give me London. However!" He sighed wignedly and rose from his chair. will say good-by till to-morrow. What train do you catch?” “Do you mean to say,” I demanded, “that you have the nerve to come back to Sanstead after what you have told me about yourself?” “You entertain some idea of expoa- ing me to Mr. Abney? Forget it, young man. We are both in giase houses. Don't let us throw stones. Besides, would he beilove 't? What proof have you?" I had thought this argument tol- erably sound when I had used it on the Nugget. Now that it was used if, I realized its soundness ore thoroughly. My hands bat tled. : aid Sam, ‘to-morrow, after our little jaunt to London, we shall all resume the quiet rural life once more.” He beamed expansively wu me from the doorway. “How ’ even the rural life has its interests. I guess we shan't be dull!” he sald. CHAPTER XVIII. (ONSIDERING the various handicaps under which he labored—notably a cold in the head, a fear of the Little Nugget, and a rever- ence for the aristocracy—Mr. Abney's handling of the situation, when the runaways returned to the school, bor- dered on the masterly. One result of the adventure was that Ogden's bed was moved to a sort of cubby hole adjoining my room. In the house, as originally planned, this had evidently been a dressing room. Under Mr. Abney's rule it had come to be used as a general repository for lum- ber. My boxes were there and @ port- manteau of Glossop's. It was an excellent place in which to bestow a boy in quest of whom kid- nappers might break in by night. The window was too snail to allow a man to pass through, and tho only means of entrance was by way of my room. By night, at any rate, the Nugget’ safety seemed to be assured. My feelings toward Cynthia at this time defied my powers of y' There were moments when I clun to the memory of her, when shi seemd the only thing solid and saf iu a world of chaos; and moment again, when she was a burden, crush- ing me. There were days when I would give up tho struggle and let myself drift; and days when I would fight myself inch by inch. Sut every day found my position maggdopel than the last. And then, one morning, if in ane swer to my thoughts, her letter came. ny Dear ‘Peter: want to ask you o hortly. Ate ward me still the same. ou why eth simply ask it, Whatever your anawer 4 Mt cannot affect our friendship, a0 bi quite candid. CYRTHIA. I sat down there and then to write my reply. It was a letter, I can back, born of fretted ner the time I had no such make. It seemed to me @ cominenda- bly sincere expression of my real tealings. I found myself combating the thrill the sight of Audrey had caused, and looking at her with @ critical and hostile eye. And when I met Audrey in the grounds that morning she noticed the change. “Are you worried about anything, Peter?” sho eatd at last. +3 I answered. “Why?” idiotic way. Instead of th silence, my policy should gay small talk, the easy eloquence, in fact, of the brisk man of affairs. No wonder Smooth Sam _ Fisher treated me as a child! My whole bearing was that of a sulky school- boy. The silence became more oppressive. We reached the house, In the hall wo parted, ahe to upper regions, I to my classroom. She did not look at me. Her face was cold and offended There was a breach between us which widened dally. Soon we hardly spoke when we me CHAPTER XIX. IN those gray days there wis one thought, of the many that occupied my mind, which brought with {it a certain measure of consolation, It was the reflection that this state of affairs could not last forever. The school term was drawing to a clcse. Soon I should be free from the pro- pinquity which paralyzed my efforts to fight. Sam’s behavior puzzled me. I do not know exactly what I expected him to do, but I certainly did net :x- pect him to do nothing, Yet day fol- lowed day, and atill he made no move. I hav id that it was the custom of the st of masters at Sanstead House—in othor words, of every male adult in the building except Mr. Fin! er himself--to assemble in Mr. Ab- ney'a study after dinner of an evening to drink coffee. Like most of the dally events at an establishmont such as @ school, where things are run on schedule, it was a ceremony which knew of no variation. Sometimes Mr. Abney would leave us immodiately after the coffee-drinking, but he never omitted to take his part in '* firat. On this particular evening, for the first time since the beginning of the term, I was seized with a prejudice against coffee, I had been sleeping badly for several nigbta, and I de- cided that abstention from coffee might remedy this, T waited for form's sake, till Glos- sop and Mr. Abney had filled their cups, then want to my room, where LE NUGGET (4 Qmeel VEBOCY BUT THEY RAN LIKE RABBITS. 1 DIDNT HIT An T Jay down in the dark to wrestle with A more than usually pronounced fit of depression which had descended upon me. Solitude and darkness struck me His head apr*..ed, staring at ‘ound the doc . in a disembodied lke the Chashire Cat. “You won't say later on I didn't give you your chance?” he said anxiously. vanished again, permanently 1 heard his steps passing down the stairs, CHAPTER XX, 3 had now arrived at the Inst week of term, at the last days of the last week, The holiday spirit was abroad in the school. After breakfast one day @ message was brought tome that Mr. Abney would like to see mo in his study. I found Mr. Abney paeing the room, 4 look of annoyance on his face. At ¢ her back ‘to me, It was part of her work to take charge of the business cor- establishment. She did not look round when I came in, nor when Mr, Abney spoke my name, but went on writing ds if [ did not exist, There was a touch of embarrass- At this moment Smooth Sam Fisher had no place in my meditations. My mind was not occt:pied with him at When, therefore, the door, which had been ajar, began to open slowly, I did not become Instantly on the some sound, barely aroused me from my torpor and set my blood tingling with Perhaps tt was the way Perhaps it wa anticipation. the door was draft does not move a door furtively, I sat up noiselessly, And then, very quietly, some- body entered the room. only one person In San- stead House who would enter a rqom 1 was amused pudenee of the thing tickled me. seemed ao foreign to Mr. usual cautious methods. ling in and helping oneself was cer- tainly kidnapping small hours I could have underatood but at 9 o'clock at nig’*, Glossop, Mr. Abney and myself awake and Hable to be met at any moment on the stairs, it was absurd. veled at Smooth Sam's effrontery. I imagined that, boing in the room. he would switch on t He did and 1 greeted was writing. respondence which I could not at first account, He was stately, but with the rather de- fensive stateliness which marked hia announcements to run up to London and | to do his work. eee! Meee is im quite pleasantly. “And what can I do for you, Mr. He coughed once or ce before proceeding to business, urna,” he sald at length. ight I ask {f your plans for the the—ah—earller part of the are settled? For a man who must have learned to control himself in all sorts of dim~ he took the shock ered a startied exclam- . opan-mouthed, miring the quick ss with which he recovered him- eel immediately he chatty Sam cult situatlo! ation and spun roun I could not he He produced a letter from the heap apera on the desk. nce more the Fisher who had so freely unbosomed his theories and dreams to me in the train to London. uit,” he sald considerably right to ask what I am about to— T have no claim on the holidays; but in the aces perhaps you may see your way to doing mo a considerable T havo received a letter from h puts mein & am a man of d I take It that you would on lying quietly on that 1 went {nto the other room and abstracted our young friend, Un- less you have changed again, would a fifty-fifty offer tempt you?" Elmer Ford, wh Position of scme difficulty, ndeed, it is forelgn to my poliey--to disoblige the the boys who are Intrusted to my— ah—care, and I should like, if possl- ble, to do what Mr. appears that certain business mat- tera call him to the north of Eng- Jand for a few days, thus rendering it impossible for him to recetve litt Oxdon to-morrow ‘Not an inch!" I merely asked.” “And how about Mr. Abney, in any 6? Suppose we met him on the ira?” Ww hould not meet him on the stairs,” said Sam confidently It ia not my c! parents who paid me the compliment of placing their sons, at the most malleable and importent period of thelr lives, in my charge, but I must say that @ little longer notice would have been— eh-—-in fact, a convenience, “T didn't; no. Me jerked his head resignedly. night regularly for two months, you It up te-night You certainly are my jinx, You have bun sign on mo, all right!" His words had brow. “Did you drug the coffee?" T iixed it so that one sin Insomnia-pationt he had time to say Are You Going Away for the Summer? ght light to me. out of town for the summer you may find It Is difficult and costly to provide yourself with the right sort of reading would have an dreamland bef: Winkle drank ad nothing on my oi Why send to the city for novels at $1.25 or $1.50 each or buy them at a fancy price in some country store? You can supply yourself with the best, most delightful summer reading for six cents a week. subscribing to The Evening World for the summer months secure a complete novel each week, Not some old book a country dealer has not been able to sell, bit the finest up-to-date fiction by the foremost living authors, Bear this in mind, not only for yourself but for ary of your friends who expect to spend the summer in the country. He passed from the room with a certain dignity. A moment later he a “The fifty-fifty proposition does not Would it make things easier if I were to offer my co-opera- tion for a mere qu: “Not In the loas "It's a handsome offer.” “Wonderfully, dealing on any terms.” He left the room, only to return once impresa you, er of the profit?” I'm afraid I'm not Ford, like so many of bis country- men, ie what I believe is called « hustler. He does it now, aa the ex- In short, he wishes to Mr. Burns, if you could find It pos ee to stay bere and—ab—look after m." Audrey stopped writing and turned in her chair, the first intimation she had given that she had heard Mr. Abnoy's remarks. "It really won't be noc trouble Mr. Burni looking at me. "I can Ogden very well by myself. “In the case of an—ah—ordinary boy, Mrs. Sheridan, I should not hesi- tate to leave you In sole charge, as you have very kindly offered to stay and help ms in this matter. But we must recollect not only—I speak frankly—not only the pecullar—ah— disposition of this particular but also the fact that those ruffilans who visited the house that night may pos. sibly seize the opportunity to make fresh attack, I should not feel—al justified in thrusting so heavy @ ‘sponsibility upon you, “I would satay myeelf, but the fact is I am called to London on very ur- care of return for a day or so. My late pupil, the—ah—the Earl of Buxton, has been—I can rely on vour discre. tion, Mr, Burna—| with the authorities at Eton, guardian, an old college friend of mine, the—in fact, the Duke of Bees- borough, who, rightly or wrongly, plac er—considerable reliance on my advice, is anxious to consult me on the matter. I shall return as soon as possible, but you will readily un- derstand t in the circumstances, my time will not be my own. I must lace myself unreservedly at-at— Beesborough's disposal. pressed the bell. ‘In the event of your observing an: suspicious charact in the nelg! hood, you have the telephone and can instantly commuatcate with the po- lice. And you will bave the assistance ithe door opened and Smooth Sam her entered. 1" ou rang, “Ab! com in, White, and close the door. I have something to say to you. I have just been informing Mr. Bu that Mr. Ford has written asking nm to stay on at th days of thi to allow his during my own brief absence” He turned to Audrey. ‘ou will doubtless be surprised, Mrs, Sheridan, and possibly—ah— somewhat startled, to learn the pecul- far nature of White's position at Ban- stead House. You have no objection to my informing Mrs. Sheridan, White, in consideration of the fact that you will be working together in this matter? Just so, White is a detective in the employment of Pin- kerton's Agency. Mr. Ford"—a slight frown appenred on hia lofty brow— “Mr. Ford obtained his present situa- tion for him in order that he might protect his son in the event of—ah— in fact, any attempt to remove him.” I saw Audrey start. A quick flush came into her face, She uttered a ttle exclamation of astonishment, “T am afraid T shall h to very explicit,” Sam said. “I had hoped to avoid scandal and unpleamntness but I seo it in tmpoasible.” Mr. A’ ney's astonished face emerged alo ly from behind hia handkerchief. “I quite agree with you, sir, that some- body should be here to help me look after the boy; but not Mr. Burns. I am sorry to have to nay it, but T do not trust Mr, Burns.” Mr. Abnoy's look of astonishment deeponed.. I, too, wan surprised. It wan no unlike Sam to fling is chances on 8 blundering attack Ii this. “What do you mean?” demanded Mr, Abney. “Mr, Burns is after the boy hi aclf. He camo here to kidnap tim Mr, Abney, as he had every excul for doing, grunted with amazement. 1 achieved the ringing laugh of amused Innocence, It wan beyond me to fathom Bam's mind. He could not suppose that any credence would be given to hia wild aasertion. It seemed to me that disappointment had caused him momentarily to lose his head “Are you mad, White?” No, sir. I can prove what I any. If I had not gono to London with him that Inat time he'd have got away with the boy then for certain.” Mr. Abney had turned to me with a look of hopeleax bewilderment. I ralred my eyebrows. “Ridiculous!” I said. That this was the only comment seamed to be Mr. Abney's view. He turned on Sam with the pettish anger of the mild man. “What do you mean, White, by coming to me with such @ prepos- terous story?” “T don't say Mr. Burns wished to kidnap the bey in the ordinary wa: {4 Sam imperturbably. “Hie had a ecial reason, Mr. and Mre. Ford, as of course you know, sir, are di- vorced. Burns was trying to got the boy away and take him back to his mothe! I heard Audrey give a little gasp. Mr. Abney's anger became modified by a touch of doubt. “You might say,” went on Bam who adjusted his glass sary to papers, sir, in the hope of finding”"—— found. From the first the blue- could apprecl here! rose without haste & spor! dramati smoothly, “that this was creditable to Mr. Burns's heart; but from my employer's viewpoint It was a chivalrous impulse that needed to ba checked Wil you nd yours, too, read this, ? handed a letter io Mr. Abney, 01 read—at Gret in a de among And then I knew what he had ray note-paper had had a familiar look. I recognised it now. It was Cynthia's letter, that damning document which I had been mad enough to read to him in London. His prediction that the luck would change had come ingly true, ught Sam's time he was unfeeling enough to wink. It was a rich, comprehensive wink, as expressive and joyous as a college yell. Mr. Abney had absorbed the letter and was struggling for speech. I his emotion. If he had not actually been nurturing a viper in bis bosom, he had come, from his point of view, very near it. if all men, @ schoolmaster nocessarily loo! with the heartiest dislike on the would-be kidnapper. Ae for me, my mind was in a whirl. I was ontirely without a plan, with- out the very beginnings of a plan, to help me cope with this appalling situ. ation. I was crushed by a sense of the utter helplessness of my position. To denounce Sam was imposible; to explain my comparative innocence equally out of the question. The sud- denneas of the onslaught had deprived me of the power of coherent though! I was routed. Mr. Abney was speaking. “Ie your name Peter, Mr. Burne?” I nodded. Speech was bag bee) me. “This letter is written by—ah—by lady. It aske Ae in set terms to: ah—hasten to kidnap Ogden Ford. Do you wish me to read it to you? Or do you confess to knowing its contents?” He waited for a reply. I had none to make, “You do not deny that you came to Sanstead House for the delibrate purpose of kidnapping Ogden Ford I had nothing to say. I caught a glimpse of Audrey's face, cold and hard, and shifted my e¢: Mr. Abney gained. the reproachful expression of a co: fiah when jerked out on the end of a line. at with pained repulsion. That scound = game. He looked like @ shocked ated us implicitly,” said Mr. Abney. sd ia i Sam wagged his head at me re- bp orl weg With a flicker of apirtt glared at him. He only wagged the more. It was, I think, the blackest mo- ment of ‘my life.” A wild desire for encape, on any terma, surged over me. That look on Audrey's face was biting Into my brain like an acid. will go and pack,” I murmured feebly. CHAPTER XXI. things!" I said to my- HIS is the end of all 66 eclt. I had suspended my packing in order to sit on my bed and brood. I wi utterly depressed. A mild voice interrupted my medi- tations, in the doorway, beaming on me with Invincible good humor, “You are handling them wrong. Allow me! A moment more and you would have ruined the crease.” I became aware of @ pair of trourers banging Iimply in my grasp. He took them from me and, folding them neatly, placed them in my trunk. ‘Don't get all worked up about it, sonny,” ho sald. “It's the fortune of war. Besides, what does it matter to you? Judging by that very snug apartment in London you bave quite enough money for a young man, Los- ing your job here won't break you, And, !f you're worrying about Mra. Ford and her foelinga, don't! I guess she's probably forgotten all about the Nugget by this time, So cheer up. You're all right!" He stretched out a hand to pat me on the shoulder, then thought better of it and drew it back. "Think of my happine: if you want something to make you feel good, Believe me, young man, it's some. I could sing! Gee, when I think it's all plain sailing now and no more troubles, I could dance! You don't know what It means to me, put- ting throug! ie deal, I wish you knew Mary! That's her name. You must come and visit us, ronny, when wo'ro fixed up in the home. There'll alwaya be a knife and fork for you. We'll make you one of the family! lord, I can see the place as plain an I can see you Nice frame house with a good pore me in a er in my ahirt-sleeves, smoking a cigar and reading the baseball newa; y in another rocker, mending my a and nursing the cat! We'll pure have a cat. Two cats! I like cats. And a goat In the front garden. Say, it'll bo great!" And on the word, emotion overcom- Ing, he brought his fat hand down with a resounding smack on my bowed shoulders. There 's a limit. IT bounded to my jet out!” I yelped, "Get out of ‘Sure, he repliod agresably, He 4 regarded me onately. “Cheer up, son! Be “TN foil you yet, you hound! Bome people have no noul for the Ho smiled tolerantly. he said. "Anything you “Sure Nike. Enjoy yourself!" ures of a Human By P. G. Wodehouse Auther of “The Prinee end Betty." aky was un unclouded blu fresh breeze was blowing in from t would not take my granted of man, I supposi monplaco a poasession as a pair of shoes, but I blushed aa I entered the Dead If it had been Buck with whom I wi have félt lesa self-conscious, Rut there was something about Sam ily old buccaneer, Sam, did the at the inn and leaving my wan to walk to the school, jor doing anything else, I felt I must nee Audrey and tell her the facts in the case of Smooth Sam. If ahe were on her guard, my asaintance might not be needed: but her present atate of trust in him was fatal. 4 drive and disappeared round the side of the house. This reminder, alao, of the outside world wan pleasant; but I could not rid myself of the feel- ing that the atmosphere of the place was sinister, I attributed it to the fact that I waa a spy in an enemy country. T had to see without bein: seen. I did not imagine that John. gon, the grocer, who had just passed In his cart, found anything wrong with the atmosphere, It was created for me by my own furtive attitude. ‘an I help?” Sam wan standing no sixns. where in the grounds this mellow etd morning I took fof granted: And he loft me. I evacuated Sanstead House unoe- tentatiously, sotting off on foot down the Jong drive. My luggage, I gath- ere to follow mw the station The and It was @ wonderful mornin: I think that something of the exhilaration of approaching spring must bave stirred me, for quite sud- denly the dull depression with which 1 4 started my walk left me, and | found myself alert and full of schemes. Why should I feebiy withdraw from the atrugele? Why should | give in to Smooth Sam in this tame way? ‘The memory of that wink came back to me with a tonic effect. {| would show him thi the game. If the school was closed to me, was there not the Feathers? [ could lie in hiding there, und observe his movements unseen, 1 was still a factor in I stopped on reaching the inn, and was on the point of entering and tak- ing up my position at once, when it occurred to me that this would be a © move. It was post way to do a thing thor- was Sam oughly, and the probability waa that, if he did not off, he would at least make careful in- quiries at the station to find out if I had gone. | walked on. tually come to see me He waa not at the station. Nor did he arrive in the cart with my trunk. But I was resolved to rink nothing. I bought @ ticket for London and boarded the London train. It had been my intention to leave it at Guildford and catch an afternoon train back to Sanatead; but it seemed to me, on refiectio unnecessary. Thi hood of Sam making any move in the matter of the Nugget until the following day. I could take my time about returning, that this was was no likeli- T apent the night in London, and ar- rived at Sanstead by an early morn- ing train with a suit among other things, a Browning ¢ containing, A little ashamed of this pur- To the Buck MacGinnia type ® pistol is as com. ras about to deal I eheuld h made pistols ridiculous, My first act, after engagin: A achool, when the boys are away, is a lonely place. The deserted alr of the grounds, an T alipp ly through the trees, eery. A stillness bronded over avery- thing, as if the place had been lala under a spell. Never before had I been so Imoreni cautious almo id with the {aolation of Sanstead House, Anything might happen in this Ienely spot, and the world would go om its way In ig- norance. with quite distinct relief I drew nearer the house, ht of the telephone wire among the tras above my head, It had a practical thi Of Audrey and Ogd they there were re out some- it I could not make an extended search. Already I had come nearer to the house than waa prudent, My eye cought the telephone wire again, and an iden came to me. I would call her up from the Inn and ask her to meet me. There was the risk that the call would be answered by Smooth Sam, but it wan not gre: fam, unless he had thrown off hi role of butler completely—which would be unlike the artist that he was—would be in the housekeeper room, and the ringin phone, which wan in the atudy, would not penetrate to him. of the tele- I chose a moment when dinner was likely to be over and Audrey might be expected to be in the draw- ing room, I had deduced her movements cor- rectly. It was her voice that ans- wered the call. be. “This is Peter Burns apeakin, ‘There wan a perceptible pai fore she replies. When sbe did, her volce waa cold, “Ten?” “T want to apenk to you on a mate ter of urgent importance.” “wen ‘I can't fo it throurh tha tele- phone, Will you meet me in half an hourta time at the gate?" Where are you mpaaking from? “The Feathers, Tam staying the “T thought vou were in London “Teame back. Will you meet mat She hesitated “why “Pacaune T have something tmport- ant to way to you—Important to you." Thera was another prune “Very well." nit half an hour, then. Is Ogden A in bed? You” his door locked?" “No," “Then Inck It, and bring the key with you" “wh “I will tell you when we meet.” “T will bring (t “Thank you, Goodhy T hung up the receiver and net out at once for the school. She wap waiting in the road. a small, india- tinct fleure in the darkness, “Ie that you~Peter?” LE AGAINST “*MAN-MADE LAWS, THE WOMAN'S LAW By MARAVENE THOMPSON ROMANCE OF A NEW YORK GIRL’S STRANGE BATT! BOOOOOODOODHOOOOOOOOGHO OOH00OOG: Next Week's Complete Novel in The Evening World 260000000000000 AND OF TWO ME) IN WHO HAD BUT A SINGLE IDENTITY: ©00O090OOHO8OOOOGO This Book on the YOU GET © Beane Will Coot $1.25 IT FOR Her voice had hesitated name, as if at some obstacle. mood it stung me. “I'm afraid I'm late. Shall we walk dows You may not have bees Ia it is as well to be om the ut understand.” Adak would follow me?” very eminent person name of Smvoth Sam Fisher.” “Smooth Sam Fisher? “Better known to you as White” 4 STOuLN be canEeE t “TL show surprised if you T asked you to meet me here so 1 could make you un . man who poses as Smooth Sam Fisher, a pre- t ta oe id proof have It yee thet re ing t ORB. But I bad the Etorenation trom, tne He told me in the trale to London.” man himself, that night goin, She spoke quickly. boll Sen otant trp thought she jaw in m: 2 “Why did he youre? “Beca' needed ne ag an a9+ my help. it wea 1 who got Ogden away that day. Sam it and di- overheard ine giving money to him, telling him how te #2 | from the achool and to gu, and he gathered—correctliy— that I was in ihe same line of business e@ suggeste bi ee Twas wsable te senaat] yr" jects were different. My mos ping Ogden was mot te She blazed out at me | ebee- ly unexpected manger. a ned so calmly and ws with such < = be ae nce of emotio: overwhelmed ne. = what your motive wag! eed to explain that. len’t thinks himself in love won't @uppose you told doing something noble and chi A woman of her eort can 1 into whatever meanness she and, just because a! thinks himself a kind of kn! had Ill-treated he: clate her higher foaone all that sort those big brown eyes of hers—t can eee her—and drooped, and cried, till ly to do anything ehe “Whom do you mean?” ‘Mrs. Ford, of course—the who sent you hére to steal the woman who wrote you that late aes There ia no n yourself you you were read; asked youl” ‘She did not write 5 never mind that. ‘The tousse wanted you to come here wi warn you against Sam Fisher, If there is any way is ‘ou, send for come aad ata: r.\ Abney Paige were out made 7 The reason wi which I can bel; Nike mouth I saw tha’ take. The balance of Polsed between suspicion and and my offer turned a her mind was may not be Sam Fisher. on my guard, and I But why should 2 11 hangs together. told me you were engaged You come here on an erran@ which no man would undertake ome cept for a woman, and a woman whom he wi ry ‘Thore is that letter, signed with Ford's Initial, imploring you to oe T gaged yine a mao lo for a woman he is fond of. Way should [I trust you?’ had the opportunity to st if T had wanted tor e I did it because you had teld me what it meant to you. She hesitated, but only for an stant. Suspicion wag ton strong You brought at don't haltave you. im bac! ause this man whom you call Fisher got to know of Why ahould you have Why should you ut my interests before Mrs. 1 am nothing to you.” & moment a mad i, Decause of ty seized me to cast away all restraint, to pour out all the unspoken words that danced like imps in my breis, to make her understand, whatever the cost, my feelings toward her, the thought of my letter to That letter bi nerve a shred be There was something in her voice which whirled me thrilling, despite my resolution, sa ‘Weakness now would be my unde- I steadied myself, and answered somewhat abruptly. “T have said all I came to say. Good turned once more and walked quickly off toward tho village. T came near to running. I wae in the mood an gave & maa. did not speak again, and soom I hurrying @n through the friendly darkness, beyond the reach of her voice. ‘The bright light from the doorway of the Feathers was the only ium nation that relieved the blackness the Market Square. As I approached, & man came out and stop) entrance to light @ cigar. urned toward me to protect the match from the breeae, in his appearance I had only a giimpse of hi he straightene. himself and wall out of the pool of mbt Into the eal but It was enough, It wax my much-enduring acquaint ance, Mr, Buck Mach (To Be Continued), when flight SI 6 Cents