The evening world. Newspaper, July 18, 1914, Page 9

ses pa ~ SYNOPSIS OF PRECEDING CHAPTERS. in mi ry una ne ul reeolven to are |, Dut eeeke be ale’ de “bor, fering 1m, ie sure 8 ee and “seods the, ral Ee a 2 ‘ ‘oe Coder ws ofa be, vere, though minis ite ant Vance: na at A oper a>] ‘this er Vance, it i us 2 ee a Gai tod mre Sect fhe Bc ti nar out of te CHAPTER XXIV. APA!” ‘The boy sat upright in bed, a quivering bundle of ecstasy, his body hid- ing the figure seated on “ia other side, But Keith Edgerton’s eyes went past the boy, For one brief natant bis and Gail's glances met. 1d each knew that this was what other had been living for. Every- thing was blotted out but the splen- dor of their love. “Papa Edgerton lifted the boy from his {bea and kissed him, then seated him- “palf with the excited child on his knee, “So this is Capt. Intrepid! Instead of taking care of mamma you've brought your daddy a thousand miles on a jolting train, doubled up like @ dack-knife in an upper berth, and with a peck of cinders in each ear. And all because of a spell of temper! What do you think I ought to do to you?" *'Vance's face fell. There was @ “@erlous cadence in his father’s tone. ‘And the humorous twist to his lips was missing. The boy was silent for Uttle while. Then: “You went away and didn't bid me good-by," he reproached. v “So that's the count. All right, Vahce. I stand convicted. 1 tried to shirk my responsibility and here is ‘fh penalty! It's Socratic justice. Well little mate, here Lam. You are going eto have your daddy for two hours. So think quick the very best use you can make of him.” “But you must stay.” Vance clutched him about the neck. “Mamma vend I want you here, You're ours, you $6) Edgerton’s voice held a ifgular note. He put @ hand under MBE chila’s chin. “Partner, if you're Winine you're going to obey me. I have “gomething to tell you. But first I want ote know. if you are going to do as I say hereafter, This means that when «J tell you not to worry mamma you're “not to worry her. It means when I go away I am not to be called back be- jeayse I have failed to say something “that you think I should. It means a good boy instead of a bad one. Think fully, a promise ts a thing to be pt. Now, are you going tc obey ome?" Vance's babyish face took on & Se Seven, sir.” “That rings true. Now, your ady's through scolding. Do you remember the rambling old red house orftmat was at the turn of the rood right “pelow Doctor Underwood's? Sure. Well, that’s my house now. Or will be when I go back. I was to have signed the deed yesterday. And that shouse is going to hold—boys! ¥ aupartner, a whole round dozen of boys! ¢ And s new batch of boys every ‘wthenth, Do you remember the time you went witb me on the East Side “aad saw"— ‘AeThe boys with the nice ra, “pants,” shrilled Vane * “phose are the ones.’ % “ePhey called my white trousers ‘ice #¥team pants,’ the boy added. “WS “Aid Gontve been sceptical of the #propriety of white trousers ever “since,” ‘laughed the man. “The boys'll knock holes in some other of your ‘Sheliefs-to your mother's horror, I weedr. You were searched for germs ‘Mor a week after that visit, I remem- per." 42 /Boya! Oh! And we're to be there, & ‘mamma and I! Oh! On! On!" ite "You're to be there, as often as O\efarama is willing to spare you, But Sthta'im'to be bachelors’ quarters, part- ef; We will have a man cook and helpers, .and a young man to assist ane, and the boys and youand I, This tp to be a training school for char- ‘Srkgter.” Do you know what character a f Tiv#Phe spirit inside of us,” returned ¥vance promptly. “And we build it day, a teeny bitatatime, You Ba roe." He bounded up and down, ya7When will the boys be there? Can't “iamma and I go back with you now? he Saal ow, partner, here's the time for ah ell You're to stop here till lay,” was the answer, “Firat, be- Chune {t's the doctor's orders. And, “again, the first batch of boye'll be there the middie of April. And I “want to get their measure”—— “For new pants?” s3 THE ROMANCE . THE WOMAN'S LAW mars be tréated decently they'll understand ven The £ “No; for the size of their present character. 1 guess by May they'll un- derstand that when | say my boy is to that he js, That's one reason I'm ex- acting obedience now—I can't have my own boy set a bad example.” “T won't. I'll obey. I will, pa) How many days is it till May? How old are the boys? Will I eat with ‘em? Will" — Gail half rose. The child was trem- bling with excitement. Edgerton pinched his lips together. “No more,” he commanded. “Now, I'm going to wrap you in a big fur coat and take yu on the shore for a ride. The sea is what you and 1 need.” He looked across at Gail. “And you. Get on your wraps. We have an hour.” Tt wag a soft gray day. The sky and the fea were in a contented mood. The clouds moved leisurely, and the sea touched the shore in a long, quiet roll. The air was refreshingly clear. The automobile sped noiselessly along the hard, smooth beach, now in low tide. Vance, between the two on the wide back seat, held his mother’s hand and leaned against the man’s shoulder. His world was all rosy again. His eyes rose to bis father’e—e remorseful look. “You can tie your ears up, can’t you, Papa?” “What?” reverie. “To keep out the cinders,” Vance, in shamed voice. “Oh! There was a quick laugh from Edgerton, an excited boyish laugh. “I don’t beliéve I shall mind the cinders, Vance. T'll carry a mem- ory of—the sea with me. It's been ten years since T left it.” His eyes came to Gall's. “It is ten yeas “A hundred,” she whispered Vance sighed happily. He did not object to a nice mystery, a mystery where his mamma and papa looked at each other this way. “Why didn’t you tell me about the house and the boys before Edgerton started from a explained me, papa?’ Which was another way of stating that Vance was sorry for bringing his father on the long, hard journey. “Wh: Edgerton's voice was whimsical. “I didn't know about them myself, partne: I'm pretty fond of you, you see. And when I wan on the train speeding north T found that there was an awful pull on my heart-strings—with the other end reaching back here. And the further away I got the harder it pulled. Even a makeshift father couldn't go away and leave the hoy and the woman he loves to flounder along helplessly. IT had to anchor you first. I've always been interested in boys and I've had a lot of ideas buzzing In my head about helping some of the handicapped to a better way of living. If T can get a boy to liking outdoor life, the outdoors of the country, I think I can find a per- manent home for him; and for as many as want it and are willing to work, “And a month of clean outdoor liv- ing won't hurt those who don't. There'll be boys from eight years old to about fourteen, and among them all we'll try to find a playmate for you—one to live with you all the time, Vil adopt him and leave him with you, my other boy, while I'm away. And we'll find an ective young man who can teach you boys and coach you In games and make good citizens out of you. If mamma agrees.” Vance turned his face to hers, his eyes like stars, A boy to live with him! A boy! famma!" he piped il do anything I can that papa wants me to," she returned, smiling through a film of blissful tears. Everything he did only made it more impossible for her to renounce him. And he did not realize this, Her eyes rested on him in the indulgent way they did on Vance, There had been a pull at his heartstrings that drew him to her-—would there not al- ways be? Her gaze became inquir- ing. Did he not know? There was a crowd at the little station, It looked curiously at George Orcutt, then at Mrs. Orcutt and the child. The New York press had duly chronicled Orcutt’s pres- ence North without his wife and son. It had faithfully recorded his hurried Journey South, And to-morrow it would give a detailed account of his return to the metropolis, The re- porters, like the servants, were wait ing for the “old Orcutt to break out. {1 and Edgerton, unconscious of the other's thoughts, viewed the curious with a strange humor of their own, If the world but knew the tn- side of the Orcutt case—what a con- test then for leaded headlines and gossip! And this {t would know—some day, was Edgerton's thought, The thought came to Gall as a question: Would it ever know? Her arms went about Vance, a flerce, protective em- brace. She held him thus as the train pulled out, CHAPTER XXV. SCENT—descent—ascent—de- | scent —— | For six months Gail bad heard this. In Florida the waves boomed it at her. As she came North. tho wheels of the train ground it out. Her eves took on a hunted look. Edgerton met her at the train. ‘What have you been doing to ourself?” he questioned. “You've pean sick and haven't let me know! With her hands in his and the warm protected feeling that his pres- ence always brought, she had be- Neved that there was nothing wrong with her or the world. She laughed blithely. “I'm only tired.” And for the moment she believed this. She was so glad to see him again that sho could only look at him and listen to him and adore him. ‘They gazed at each cther like bliss- fut children. Renounce him! Deliberately sep- arate their lives! The thought was ludicrous with him beside her, She had been harrowing herself over bub- bles. Why had he bought a house and planned a permanent home here if not to be near her? They could live separate lives without closing the door forever upon each other. She had grown slightly hysterical with relief. He had accompanied ber to the Riverside Drive house and had sat for several hours in the sun parlor at and told her and Vance about the ‘boys.’ Vance had been on knee and she beside him, with much of the while a hand in his, His delight in having them again was too great for him to try to hide it. She had slept peacefully that night, And for a week she bad been very excitedly happy. She and Vance had gone to see the “boys,” and she had left Vance there. She had laughed gayly over the child's indignation at her solicitude about his dressing and undressing. “Please don't say such things, mamma; the boys might hear," h pleaded. ‘They can dress themselves. He threw back his head proudly and deflantly. “And I'll dress myself.” Edgerton grinned, “If the boys get ahead of our son they'll have to get up early, all right.” ‘The “our son" came out so naturs ally that the man did not notice tt. He was smiling at the boy, and very paternally. Gail's heart leapt’#4M ecetasy, He not only accepted the role of George Orcutt, but was happy in it, Her life could go on now in peace, with Vance's future safe, and always a beautiful friendship between Keith and her. Yet Ascent, descent; ascent, descent-— The little ivory clock on Gail dressing table began to tick it In June, the sea at Mamaroneck boomed It forth, June passed, and July, The training school for character had become of public interest fact that George Orcutt was con- ducting it made it of deep moment to the New York press, Had the school been unworthy it would have. stil been featured sensationally. But Morris Underwood's connection with it-—the alienist was ga boyishly en- thusiastic over it as Edgerton—had brought It to the attention of edu cators and essayists, Articles on Boy Psychology and Character—The Or cutt Experiment—Conservation of Boys—and others of the same sort Appeared in the serious magazines. Yet—it was not Underwood, the pay chologiat, but Edgerton, the Was responsible for the tained, who uccess at A NEW YORK MYSTERY STORY; NEXT WEEK’S COMPLETE NOVEL == IN THE EVENING WORLD OF STIUGGLERS. THE BLUE BUCKLE tre: World Daily Magazine: Saturday, OQDOOOCOVOESOCODOCNODCOOSOOCOCOU000U0UU And Undorwood, who had grown very social and friendly with Gail, confided this to her with a@ little chortle of amusement. Davidian sling and pebble. The maga- zines tell about the system that the Orcutt Boy Farm is run on. System?” He chuckled. “It's all summed up in two worde—Keith Edgerton. He gives the boys something that's outside my power, or that of any psychologist, to name. I mijeht tell those boys for a year how t6 live rightly, and plan out just how, by their reflex actions, they should go about the job, and not incite one of them to live rightly. Keith doesn't tell them anything, so to speak, and inside of a week their grimy little souls begin to reach toward the light.” “But why?" Gail questioned, surely have an idea why.” Underwood looked at her brooding eyes. It was the haunting question they seemed to be asking these days that had changed his gruffneas toward Ree: to a friendly confidence. He mused a morrent. "Per- haps the truest reason ts that Keith has faith In them. A somewhat doubting hope is the nearest I could “You come to ft. Ani he's not promulrat- ing a theory; he's living a fact, a fact they can all see—himself. Man- lness—every boy wants that: it'e his unconscious ideal. In Edgerton a boy sees himself as he should like to be; his virility and force and huror fas- cinate the bovish mind. 1 suppose the last thing they would call Keith is good. I'm sure it's the Inst thing Keith would call himself. And 1 shouldn't like to face his grin if I called him that. And not being good is helpful. No one follows a preacher. That's where I fall down, T talk.” He chuckled again, “I'd tell the brats what to do and not expect them to do it. Keith doesn’t tell them to form, but he expects it—and some- how he g it across the line and Into their muscles" “Muscles?” actly, The mind has a nasty habit of tucking things away. The preacher's Sunday sermon goes into a little compartment of his parishion- er's mind to stay, But when tho muscles begin to twiteh!—then there's something doing.” Gall’s hand came up to her throat, herself unconscious of the act. Her fingers touched her articulatory muscles in a singulyriv questioning way. The alienist’s eyes, seemingly ‘ ed upon Hdgerton and a clutter of boys in the distance, were upon her, He saw her Ips quiver, very Piteously, and her eyes grow sombre, his was the end of July, three mopths after her return from the South, Hardly « day of Mese three months but had found her at the “boy farm.” She came to. bring Vance or take him away, or to see how he was, Bryan, the chauffeur, no longer felt it necessary to ask where she wanted to go. Aud in three digerton had sald nothing months When you matter. them at a fancy pri You can supply 5 reading for six cents a week. you will secure a complete novel country dealer has noi heen able to by the foremost living authors. D ‘The personal equation—that's the qa * their Are You Going Away for the Summer? fo out of town for the summer you may find difficult and costly to provide yourseif with the nght sort of reading Why send to the city for novels at $1 in some country stare? ourself with the best, most delightful summer subscribing to The Evening World for the summer months Bear this in mind, not only for yourself but for any of your friends who expect to spend the summer in the country. about wanting his name and his freedom—not about not wanting it. Theirs seemed a trang! relation. ship. She had net talked “ith him alone & t . day vhe came from the South. He had not ones been to Ma- maronsck shook } inds placidly when they met, and parted, fut it was tho tranquillity of fire covered up, not snuff! out. Their eyes id all tt their lines did not. And in the light pressure of their hands was tho thrill of a thou: .nd Kisses, They were so deeply in love it mere’ to be together wae rapture, Morrla Underwo. looked on curl- ously. Hoe talked with Gail a great deal these days. Soon he admitted her fascinations. She was so natural and girlish and had such a nimble wit! And there was an adorable grace in her excessive motherliness. The physician :!ked to affect a head- ache to watch her eyes widen with sympathy, When with her he ac- cepted Edgerton’s reculiar status with matter-of-fact acceptance, He had been rewarded py seeing her grow fearless in his society. But it was not for this he did it. “A man and his woman’—this was @ battle in which he had no part. Edergton had once taken the ground that, given a man strong enough and a woman who loved enough, he could take her anywhere he would—to the blackest depths or to heights touching the sky, Under- wood had cheerfully admitted the blackest depths; only reversing the order—that !t was the woman who took the man there. But now he was wondering if Edgerton may not have been right--was not right, to- the two. And the the most thrilling conflict he had ever witnessed. He forgot that it was a man and a woman who loved each other and who wanted each other more than any- thing elae in the world. He looked it broadly, viewed it from the eternal standpoint. And he knew that In tne mysterious depths of things it was not the unton of the two that counted, nor their separation—but only that love should lift them higher than they could have gone without it. It came to him that this was what love was for—that its ultimate pur- pose was to furnish wings for humanity to rise on, A year before he would have scoffed and sneered at such an opinion. But to-day he was a man who held a deep affection for another—Kelth Edgerton was to him a son and the idol of his heart. And this love had crowded out much of the bitterness and cynicism that had accrued there through disappoint- ment and loneliness. His fatherliness extended to the woman that Keith loved. He wanted mightily that Keith should have her; and despair ing that, he wished that she should to meet her lover's faith in her. Her fingers now moving over her white throat and the piteous query of her eyes! He watched her intently. And his acruntiny took in the exaut site loveliness of her-—the soft curves and the delicate anatomy and the childish sweetness of the red mouth. There was something curiously ap pealing in the slim young figure with its indefinable fragrance and pretty apparel. He wanted to lift her up and carry her to Edgerton'’s strong arma and leave her there. He growled behind his teeth To tell the publie all the pitiful tragedy of her blighted wifehood'! To ye He watched silent battle w drag the gibbering idiet known George Ormond forth with his flabby hands red with murder! Gee Oreutt, in the person of Edgerton, had become a respected man among those who knew him, and thin respect was gradually percolating through to the public. Here was a reformed man, with a serious purpose in life, and all the more praiseworthy because he was still possessed of the millions that had helped to hia ruin, In Edgerton she had an honorable father for her Bon And for herself a lover! For woman could always impli man trremediably—tf she chose. He looked nt her plercingly. She held the key, and upon its turning de- pended her future and the man's, And —what turn would she give it? He growled again, It was sentl- mental, irrational, yvet—he found him self wishing for her happiness. He was very tender to her that day and for several days ay after. CHAPTER XXV 7. om Morris. Under- changed, uddenly v's manner sw ocold toward Mra, treated her with @ aneoring demeanor. “What is itt she asked Edgerton wistfully, “Have | done anything to anger him? "You've done nothing." he an- swered. “It's a grouch against things in general.” tut Gall saw Edgerton send rep rimanding glances at hin friend. This defense by her | it Is .25 or $1.50 each or buy each week. Not some old book a Sell, bit the finest up-to-date fiction ICTOGRAPHS, /ELS, tried to {nore his unfriendly attitude. But there was a biting scorn in his eyes that caused her own to fall; and the jeering tone of his voice was like 4 slap on her face. He was applying the lash, He wanted to drive her into releasing Kdgerton, It was thus she divined it. For four weeks she siept but a few hours each night—a troubled dream- ing in the early morning; and this through sheer exhaustion after hours of wakefulness and anguished argu- ments with herself. She had been pais She was ashen now. Then one morning an employee of the sanatorium brought her @ note: My Dear Mra, Orewtt: Please be at the sanatorium thie afternoon at 3 o'clock, and prompt- (y This ta important. Yours truly, MORRIS UNDERWOOD. Gall read it with @ new contraction of the heart. This imperative sum- mons—did it have to do with her husband? At Bdgerton's solicitation, Dr, Underwood had taken charge of the correspondence and financial af- fairs of “George Ormond.” This was at the time Gail went South, Was he now going to ive them back into her hands, place this burden. again upon her? Previounly, over the nignature “Mary, jet id B graver risk for her to do this than fo: Dr. Underwood. She might be too guarded or not enough so. She had always been fearful that Dr. Manton or some of his associates might vinit °" New York and, out of courtesy, seok to find “M Ormond” and tell her ey gre of about her husband. She d had the answers to her letters sent to the general delivery window at the Post-Office, To get them had necessitated con- siderable contriving. She had to take Vance with her as a valid ex- cuse for going herself. The child's whima were numerous; to say that “Vance wants to buy some stamps for himself” was a sufficiently good ex- planation, Hut she had first to incite Vance to want ti buy stamps for himself; then she had to leave him beyond hearing distance while she called for her mail. It was a nerve- racking hour, leaving her faint from the strain. And it w a relief not to know about the detatls of her husband's e. Doctor Underwood's — crisp ame as usual” was all that was now told her. He had said nothing fora month. Had he been waiting to perpetrate some cruelty? Three o'clock found her at the sanatorium, sick with dread. She shrank before the saturnine glance with which he greeted her. She could not keep the hurt tears trom her eyes, nor her lips from trembling, He led her into his study and behind @ screen. “T want you to sit here quietly for the next ten minutes or so. This mirror gives @ view of the room. want you to hear and see without be Does Keith know about " he growled “Then it's something—unkind, and 1 won't” “You'll sit right here, Just as T tell you,” he commanded. There was a jingling of the door- bell. The physician walked away and left her, She sat down facing the mirror, looking into it with eyes Imost too terrified to see, eyes wait- ing to behold—George Ogcutt. The allenist returned to the room With him was a girl, ‘The long mir- ror revealed her entire figure. She was tall and girlishiy pluinp, with athletic shoulders and hips. She wore a blue suit and hat, a red wing and necktie giving a saucy toych. Her hair was brown and crinkly, her eyes brown with a laugh In them, and deep dimple in her right e seated herself in the host indicated, es, I'ma Janet Manners,” sald “And I've come to see Keith rton.” She looked at him daring- And I'm going to stay here till V do see him, dy you tell me where | can find him, * It's no use to #ay Keith won't see folks. He'll see me.” “Why?” The dimple worked mischlevously. She pouted—the pout of a girl used to having her way with masculinity, “Blind—blind-—-blind!” she uttered commiseratingly, and watched to see the effect of her audactt Morris Underwood laughed, a big, hearty outburst, Old and in my dotage," he added “Rut nevertheless | believe f--have—e glimmering—of—why.” “Now that L have drawn your at- tention to it.” said Miss Manners dimpling some more, “you may even be convinced that it 1s 4 deprivation for Keith not to see me.” lv ined his head in merry , Miss Manners, Tam! And ould take vou to Keith But" Dr, Underwood, t will not be put off with excuses,” she interrupted, sing » finger in warning. And though she dimple he was very serious, “Dad's easy # must abide by Dr, Underwood's decision’ he » ways, And he may, Gut Pshan't. tm more to Kelth thin he is or anybody else. Edgerton was to have been my pressed her na lips Ul! they white ha pression, Her ba him, imploring! H should take care of lin, We live on xt ranch; and my two brothers vyed with the Kdgertons from 1 They're Kone, And Tt want Keith care how wrong his head or how terribly afflicted he may be. He aie ne be @ burden to menor to Dad." You love him?” tutore him! We all do! Dr. Underwood was for a How long do you expect ty be in New York? be questioned our days, ‘Then I sail for Eng and with sore neighbors of cura I it ta see Keith before T sail [want im to go home with me when TF come yack, or ko abroad with us now if he's well enough. Or I shall stay nere PLOTS AND WILLIAM HAMILTON OSBORNE July OF A NEW YORK GIRL’S FIERCE BATTLE AGAINST ‘{ A Goll Nove Fach Wee it The Evening Wor 8¥:90000000000036000000900000000000000000000000000000 18; 1914 “MAN-MADE RULES” By Maravene 1 aaa 1 don’t care which It is. All I want (sto have Keith again. lorris Underwood ros “You will hear from me in two days. I make no promises. 1 think | may arrange for you to see Keith before you sail, But if not, you as well as father must submit to my de- You will defeat your own ends otherwise, I'm acting as Mr. Edgerton’s physician. Everything I do Is for his best good. My first duty is to him. He patient mow. It will all como out right.” She stood up and looked at him, searchingly, then held out her hand. “I'm not ‘a patient person, | wan sick in bed for the first four months, or T should have come on then and searched for Keith myself. It's only within the past month that I've been able to travel.” Her other hand cov- ered bis. “Won't you tell me some- thing more than this?” she pleaded. “In two days,” waa the answer, There was finality in his tone, but his was very friendly. He went outside and put her Into the waiting taxicab, presented her with a hand- ful of roses gathared from a treilised rambler beside the steps. ‘The smile left his face as he re- turned to the atudy. Gall atood in the centre of the room, head high poised. “It's not true. Keith bas never given her any cause to make her think he would marry her! And you know this—you know this! And yet you bring me here to try to kill my faith in his honesty. You have plan- ned this scene thinking to make me remorseful. Remorseful? Why ould I be remorseful over hurting @ man who would break faith with A woman? It's because he's not dead to shame and dishonor that has awak. me to"— “The holiness of truth,” completed Morris Underwood softly. “Stop!” she commanded passionate- ly. “It's profanation for you to talk about holiness. You claim to love Keith—and then you try to biacken eo aie againat him when you know aia “He cares more for your little finger than all the rest of the world togeth ogain interrupted the man. “Just a minute, T did not plan t' scenes. I've been in desultory corre: pondence with ur. Manners ever since Jearning who Edgerton is. I had a letter from him last week stating that his daughter was coming to New York and would want to ses me. had no way of knowing what sho would say. I've not mentioned the subject to Edgerton and know noth- 14 My only pre- to bring you “Try to take away all the sweetness ont cf my life!—to leave me not only alone, but without faith and trust in humanity!” Her clenched hands pressed against her bosom to quell the tumult that ahoox her. “Rut you shall not! You shall not! I can't on unless I believe in him! My 1 has been given over to expediency—I thought I waa good, and all the while—— Then—I began to eee and ~I've--been trying to—get the—cour- age.’ Her hands came to her twitch- ing lips, trying nly to beat beck the wild sobs. “To me abstract truth has no meaning—— It had to be embodied for me to see it—— Keith means truth! and ligh' \i—my sal- vatiot And you know this—and yet you"—— “1? What have I to do with {t? You haven't lost your faith in your lover.” It was a atatemnt, but there was a flicker of questioning in the unde tone, She stepped toward him, and her burning eyes held his. *No! And he is my lover! He ts not hers and never was! Never!" “And never shall be if you can help itso? ald Morris Underwood. “And you can, Mrs. Oroutt. Miss Manners and I want has no bearing on the case. Whether Keith continues in slavery to a married woman or goes free to live the inde- pendent life a man should is wholly up to you. All this Hgeht and truth and wond Inner in the hollow of you hand. No one can lose it for you but_ yourself.” She continued to look at him, her eyes searching his, “This is what you call applying the urmeon’s knife,’ sbe said in low er excitement gone from her. nF Her hands ca: together on her breast again, she stood for # fraction of a second longer gazing at him, then with a wild flinging out of her arms she turned and left the room, CHAPTER XXVII. OU telephoned for me to come to Mamaroneck at once to nee you , Which means that you have something tinusual to tell me. And you don't tell it!” In Edgerton's manner was re- strained excttement. To see her was always an event that sent his blood quickening, But he had been looking rather tired of late; and even her presence had brought little of the ox- uberance that seemed to belong to him. Touwlay his excessive buoyancy was in marked contrast to his recent dopression It was as though his 66 spirit was rloting to shout forth a hosanna, and war held tn check by @ mighty effort Gait was blind to his inward com. motion “Let's go to the summer house,” she said in answer. “Here the ser vants are constantly going and com- Ing.” Ah! a secret! One of those hide- ous secrets that Vance detests.” Ho delivered a message from Vance and told her some trifling news of the ‘boys an they walked across the lawn. She made no response She lot him fix a cushion at her back and place a hassock under her feet, Still she remained silent He sat down In n chair facing her and folded his arma “Your brother who was killed was going to marry Miss Janet Man- COUNTERPLOTS This Book on the Stands Will Cost You $1.28 You Get It for 6 Cents The man started. : “So you figured it out for Underwood told me avout Ne tale morning. He didn’t mean it the wes you thought, dear,” She looked at Bim directly now, noting hin of ex He hadn't called her pear" ince that day in Florida. Nor looked at her in a Dossessive way since he had known she was not his wife. yhat in it?” she cried out. “Let's hear what you have to say first," he returned. twisted her hands together, then one rose and travelled over the muscles of ber throat. There was no contraction now. Dr. Underwood meant to drive me into giving you up, and he didn't care how he did it! He knew it was brother who was engaged to Manners?” “Yes; he told me just now that Dr. Mannors had written him not to men- tion Harold's name to Janet; @ he inferred from that that she woulds’t speak of it herself. Everything turned Py as he had deduced—except you! Ifo says he'll never tackle a ‘love cw again. | hope not, the @d not a blun blunderer!” said she faintly. vot te “Perhaps ined you your Sean ‘new, and I it would have months yet before I could hat to i Rntoy the way he talk and loo! at me—as though | were —. But I've been trying #0 hard And I should have, even if—And you, know ats, don't you and so does he. But he had @ teaser for wanting you to do it now.” “He wants you to abroad with Miss Mannere—— He thinks you will And I want you to—— If not See anen some one”—— “You don't want anything kind,” said he, smiling. “You nave aa idea that you ought to want it, thet’s all. Do you think 1 could ever marry any one else—knowing that 'your heart still holds me! Aside from constancy do you think T eould way?” Yet—— He was hurting her now! His buoyancy, the exultant in his voice-—- It could only m in the thought of his freedom. this, knowing that he was not to see her after they parted! * © © But she was sufferi.g « much in this hour that a little more rather than less hardly count She had nerved herself to Sponge And she shoul: with it © © ¢ bravely. I want you to get Dr. Underwood to tell the—reporters. He says that they always report him accurat 1 ‘Want that people should not—m * derstand about—you and—me—I shall take Vance and go away till the sei sation of the news is over, Then——' “What?” “T haven't planned anything defi- nite, © © © Everything’s so biack that I can't see anything clearly. ° Yet I know"— “That you will!” His voice rang out triumphantly. “You brave girl! And not ‘brigand’ bravery now, as Under- wood called your carrying me off and‘ folating me on the law a7 George O1 cutt. To have had the courage that! And the grit to bring me into your home!—— And"—his lps curved humorously—“the strength to fight me after you got me there!” His hands caught hers. you know what a wonderful woman you are going to bel” She withdrew her many one shrank ‘ back to her chair. Uni wood's avowed cruelty bare pot hurt her as did this praise, Already, she had a feeling of separation from bim, as though she, as a woman, had put outside bis 1 He was inter- ested In her now as a phenomenon! She felt deathly sick. She wanted to end it now, quickly, and crawl off somewhere alone. she her eyes—there was one thing more to do. “Will you try to make Vance um- derstand? He will ask for you @ thousand times a day. That will bethe crucitying agony—to hear him plead and to know that I can do nething!... And now—goodby.... I can't bear— anything—more, “Goodby? He laughed boylably. Dear, there isn't going to be any goodby, ever! That's wh: here grinning so heartlessly. wood seemed to know what you want. ed, and he made me promise to jet you go through with it. He sald it would make you happier, And to make my blessed girl happy is the most, Important thing In life for me now.” He regained possession of her hands and his eyes held hers. She was ataring at him In a strange way. “Yas!” he laughed bilssfully. “You're mine! Do you understand? Mi You and I and the boy are going away together. I've engaged passage on the Louls for Mr, and Mrs. Keith Edgerton! We're going to eat to-day! And I don't think it'll mat- ter to: us’ what news the papers serve to the public to-morrow, it tee He sprang up and drew ber to ber fee ‘Underwood, the old bat, kept you from me till you had offered me ae freedom. He thought I wanted vou should do this, I did—yes: gat 1 knew that you woula, do it yourself sometime. And what I wanted was you! I can't forgive him for this month that I haven't had you: I ned him to the antipodes and 4 back this morning, came to hera-—“tt joean't matter now, Her beloved.” She pushed hia lips away. voice was terrified. You don't m#@yn it! Say you make you understand don't that— Her hand shut off the words on, his I understand that you love me well enough [o leave me, enough to want me to keep faith with myself. She clutched his arm wildly. ent to—to reach toward the now. And I can’t without my faito in you. You don’t mean what you vy! No! No mean that George Oreutt ts , doad.” said he gently, “He died a onth amo. Dr, Underwood _ kept knowledge from you and me yting that you ‘shouldn't be cheat ed out of your victory!” Hie arms “and, dear, I be-