The evening world. Newspaper, August 1, 1914, Page 9

AOoprignt, 1914, by NovbeMerrill Oo.) Hl bit 5 i i r I r ! Fe ; id rit itt, Pou if { i ty air Pa 7 i fa i i i | 7) g z ? fit 4 ) Climict wandered Craven aod saye be will lay , Wale road! before the police unlem Blanche will promise vever to vee Camiet again, CHAPTER X11. (Coutinued.) Quid Pro Quo. ANCHE felt cold and sick, but the bit of downright bullying did her good, “I didn't know ‘you were @ blackmatler, Mr, Toye!” “You know I'm not; but I mean to gave you from Casalet, blackmail or white.” “To save me from a mere olf friend — nothing more — nothing — all »" he sald, searching > Her with his smouldering eyes. “You “gouldn't tell a le, guess, not if you tried! But you would do something; it’s just a man being next door to bell that would bring @ God's aagel"— His voice shook. ie was as quick to often on her aide. “Don't talk nonsense, please,” she “Pegged, forci., a smile through her distress. “Will you promise to do mething if—if 1 promise?” < “Not to go near him?” ‘ ras, !No.” “Nor to see him beret” “No.” “Nor anywhere else?” “No. I give you my word.” “If you break it, I break mine that minute? In it a deal that way?” ¥ ! Yes! I promise: “Then so do eaid Hilton Toye. CHAPTER XIV. Faith Unfaithful. 'T’B all perfectly true,” sald Casalet calmly, “Those were my movements while . I was off the ship, except for the five hours and a bit thet I was dway from Charing Cross, I can't dispuvwe « detail of all the rast. “x But thep'n pave to fill in those five “hoitrs uniess’Yhey want another case “te collapse like the one against vy) fapruton}”. avitOld Savage had wriggied like a i '- yenerable worm in the experienced ‘on felons of the Bobby's Bugbear; but “Yuen Mr. Drinkwater and bis dis- Ltvgoveries had come still worse out of <a hotter epcounter with the trucu- ‘Went attorney, and Casalet b@ de- Ceeribed the whole thing ae only he so *eould describe a given episode, down te the ultimate dismissal of the charge against Scruton, with a gusto the miore cynical for the deliberately ey piteh of his voice. TE wae in the little lodging-house * {tting-room at Nell Gwynne's Cot- ‘* tages; he stood with his back to the ing fire that he had just lighted intmaself, as it were, already at bay, fer the folding doors. were in front af his nose and hie eyes roved in- evesently from the landing door on + ong, @ o> the curtained casement on the othe: Yet avumetimes he paused to gase ,@ the friend who had come to warn ‘him of his danger, and there was nothing cynical or grim about him then. Blanche had broken her word for perhaps the first time in her life, but ft bed never before been extorted from her by duress, and it would be affectation to credit her with much compunction on the point. Her one Great qualm lay in the possibility of Toye turning up at any moment; but this had obviated to some ex- tent by coming straight to the cot- tages when he left her—presumably to Jook for Casalet in London, since she had been careful not to mention his change of address. Casalet, to her relief, but alno a lit- tle to her hurt, she had found at his lodgings in the neighborhood, full of the news he had not managed to com- munieate to'her. But it was no time for taking anything but hts peril to heart. And that they had been discussing, almost as man to man, if rather as {nnecent man to innocent man; for even now, or perhaps now in his Presence least of all, Blanche could not bring herself to believe her old friend guilty of violent crime, how- ever unpremeditatea, for which an- other had been allowed to suffer, for however short # time. And yet he seemed to make no se- cret of it; and yet it did explain his whole conduct since landing, as Toye had said, Bhe could only shut her eyes to what must have happened, even aa Cazalet himself had shut hie all this wonderful week, that she had for- gotten all day in her tn tude, but would never, in all her days, forget again! “There won't be another case,” she heard herself saying, while her thoughts ran ahead or lagged behind Nke sheep, “It'll never come out— 1 know it won't.” “Why shouldn't it?" he asked so sharply that she had to account for the words, to herseif as grell as to him. “Nobody knows except Mr. Toye and he means to keep tt to him- self.” ‘ “Why should he?” “I don't know, He'll tell you him- self.” “Are you sure you don't know? What can he have to tell me? Why should he screen me, Blanche?” His eyes and voice were furious with suspicion, but still the voice was lowered. “He's @ jolly good sort, you know," said Blanche, as if the whole affair was the most ordinary one in the world. But herolop could not have driven the sense of her remark more forcibly home to Cazalet. “Oh, he is, is he?" “I've alwaye found him so.” “Bo have I, the little I've seen of him. And I don't blame him for getting on my tracks, mind you; he's @ hit of @ detective, I was fair gam: and he did warn me in a way. That's why I meant to have the w He stopped and looked away. I know. And nothing can undo that,” she only said, but her voiee swelled with thanksgiving. And Cazu- let looked resssured; the hot suspicion died out of his eyes, but left them sloomily perplexed. “Still, I can't understand it. I don't believe it, either! I'm in his hands, Wh I done to be saved by Toye? He's probably acouring Lon- don for me—if he isn't watching this window at this minute! He went to the curtains as he spoke. Simultaneously Blanche sprang Up, to entreat him to fly while he could. That had been her first ob. Ject in coming to him as she had done, and yet, once with bim, she had left it to the last! And now It was too late; be was at the window, chuckling significantly to himeelf, bad opened it, and he was leaning out. “That you, Toye, down there? Come Up and show yourself! I want to see you.” He turned tn time to dart in front of the folding doors as Blanche reached them, white and shuddering. The flush of impulsive bravado fled from bis face at the sight of hers. “You can't go in there. What's the matter?” he whispered. “Why should you be afraid of Hilton Toye?" How could she tell him? Before she had found a word, the landing door opened, and Hilton Toye was in the room, looking at her. “Keep your voice down,” aaid Caza- Jet anxiously, “Eivon if it's all over with me but the shouting, we needn't start the shouting here!’ He chuckled savagely at his Jest; and now Toye stood looking at him. “T've heard all you've done,” con- tinued Cazalet, “I don't blame you a bit. If it had heen the other way about, I might have given you less run for your money. I've heard what you've found out about my mysteri- ous movements, “You don't know why I took the train at Naples, and travelled across Europe without a handbag, It wagn't quite the put-up job you may think. But, tf {t makes you any happier, I may as well tell you that I was at Uplands that night, and I did get out through the foundations!" ONE OF THE MOST UNUSUAL STORIES EVER WRITTEN. Next Week's Complete Novel in The Evening World ‘The insane impetuosity of the man ‘was his master now. He was a living fire of impulse that had burst into a blaze His voice was raised in spite of his ‘warning to others, and the very firat wound of Toye'’s was to remind him that he was forgetting his own advice. Toye had not looked a second time at Blanche; nor did he now; but he took in the silenced Cazalet from head to heel, by inches. “I always guessed you might be crazy, and I now know it, aid Hil~ ton Toye. “Still, I judge you're not so crazy as to deny that while you were in that house you struck down Heary Craven, and left hiin for dead?” Cazalet stood like a red-hot stone, “Miss Blanche,” gaid Toye, turning to her rather shyly, “I guess I can’t do what I said just yet. I haven't breathed @ word, not yet, and perhaps 1 never will, if you'll come away with me now—back to your home—and never see Henry Craven's murderer again!” “And who may he be?" cried a voice that brought all three face-about. ‘The folding doors had opened, and @ fourth figure wae standing between the two rooms, CHAPTER XV. Th~ Person Unknown. ME intruder was a shaggy | elderly man of so cadaver- ous an aspect that his face alone cried for his death- bed, and his gaunt frame took up the cry as it swayed upon the threshold In dressing gown and bedroom slippers that Toye instantly recognized as belonging to Cazalet. The man had a shock of almost white hair and a less gray beard clipped roughly to a point. An unwholesome pallor marked the fallen features, and the envenomed eyes burned low in their sockets as they dealt with Blanche but fastened on Hilton Toye. “What do you know about Henry Craven's murderer?” he demanded in voice between a croak and a crow. ‘Have they run in some other poor devil, or were you talking about me? Tf so, I'll start a little actiog, and call Casalet and that Iady as witnesses!” ‘his is Scruton,” explained Caza- let, “who was only liberated this evening after being detained a week on a charge that ought not to have been brought, as I've told you both all along.” Scruton thanked him with a bitter laugh. “I've brought him here,” concluded Cagalet, “because Lidon/t.think he's Mt enough to be about alone.” “Nice of him, isn’t it?” said Scruton bitterly. “I'm so fit that they wanted to keep me somewhere elso longer than they'd any right; that may be why they lost no time in getting hold of moe again. Nice, considerate, kindly country! Ten years isn't long enough to have you as a dishonored Buest. ‘Won't you come back for another week, and see if we can't arrange a nice little sudden death and burial for you?” But they couldn't, you see, blast “em!” He subsided into the best chair in the room, which Blanche had wheeled up behind him; a moment later ho a looked round, thanked her curtly, and lay back witb closed eyes until eud- denly he opened them on Cazalet. “And what was that you were say- ing—that about travelling across Europe and being at Uplands that night? I thought you came round by sea? And what night do you mean?” “The night it all happened,” said Cazalet steadily. “You mean the night some person unknown knocked Craven ‘on the head?” “You, The aick man threw himself for- ward in the chair, _ “You hover told me- thi suspiciously; both the voice and the man seemed stronger. “There was no point in telling you.” “Did you see the person?” “Yeu” “Then he isn't unknown to you?” “I didn't see him well.” Beruton looked sharply at the two mute Usteners, They were very in- tent, indeed. “Who are these people, Cazalet? No! I know one of ‘em,” he answered himself in the next breath. “It's Blanche Macnair, isn't it? I thought at firet it must be @ younger sister grown up like her. You'll forgtv prison manners, Miss Macnatr, if that’s stiH your name, You look a woman to trust—if there is one—and you gave me your chair, Anyhow, you've been in for a penny and you can Satur stay In for a pound, as far as I care! But who's your Amer'can friend, Cazalet?” “Mr. Hilton Toye, who spotted that Td been all the way to Uplands and back when I claimed to have been in Rome!” There was a touch of Scruton’s bit- terness in Cazalet’s voice; and by some subtle process It had a distinctly mol- lifying effect on the really embittered man. “What on earth were you doing at Uplands?” he asked, in a kind of confidential bewilderment. “T went down to see a man.” Toye himself could not have cut and measured more deliberate mono- syllables. “Craven?” suggested Scruton. “No; a man I expected to find at Craven ‘ “The writer of the letter you found at Cook's office in Naples the night you landed there, I guess!" It really was Toye this time, and there was no guesswork in his tone. Obviously he was speaking by his little book, though he had not got it out again. “How do you know I went to Cook's?" ‘ “I know every step you took be- tween the Kaiser Frits and Charing Cross and Charing Cross and th Kalser Fritz!" Scruton listened to this interchange with keen attention, hanging on each man’s lips with his sunken eyes; both took it calmly, but Scruton’s surprise was not hidden by o sar. donte grin. “You've evidently had a astern chase with a Yankee clipper!’ 1d “If he's right about the letter, Cazalet, I should say so; presumably it wasn’t from Craven himself?” “No.” “Yet it brought you across Europe to Craven's house?” “Well—to the back of the house! I expected to meet my men on the river.” Bow “Wes that how you missed him more or less?” “I suppose It was.” Scruton ruminated @ little, broke into hie offensive laugh, and checked it instantly of bis own accord. “This is really interesting,” he croaked. “You get to London—et what time was it?” “Nominally three twenty-f but the train ran thirteen minutes late,” eaid Hilton Toye, “And you're on the river by what time?” Scruton asked Cazalet. “I walked over Hungerford Bridge, took the first train to Surbiton, got a boat there, and just dropped dowa with the stream, I don't suppose the whole thing took me very much more than an hour.” “Aren't you forgetting something?” aid Toye, “Yes, I was. It wae I who tele- Phoned to the house and found that Craven was out motoring; so there was no hurry.” “Yet you were'nt going to see Henry Craven?” murmured Toye. Casalet did not answer. His lest words had come in a characteristic burst; now he had his mouth shut tight, and his eyes were fast to Bcru- ton, He might have been in the witness Are You Going Away for Vacation? When you go out of town for vacation you difficult and costly to provide yourself with the right matter. find {t is of reading won 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. By subscribing to The Evening World for the rest of the summer you will secure a complete novel each week. Not some old book a country dealer has not by the foremost living authors, Bear this in mind, not only for yourself who expect to spend their vacations in the able to sell, but the finest up-to-date fiction but for any of your friends country. day: Aug eR , - —_ box already, a doomed wretch oyni- cally supposed to be giving evidence on his own behalf, but actually only baring his neck by:inches to the rope, under the joint persuasion of judge and counsel. But he had one friend by him etiil, one who had edged a little nearer in the pause, “But you did eee the man you went to sen?” said Seruton. Cazalet paused. “T don't know. Eventually some- body brushed past me in the dark. I did think then—but I can't swear to him even now!" “Tell us about it.” “Do you mean that, Scruton? Do you Insist on hearing all that hap- pened. I'm not asking Toyo; he can do what he likes. But you, Scruton— you've been through a lot, you know— you ought to have stopped in bed— do you really want this on top of aur "Go ahead,” eai4 Scruton. “Til have a drink when you've done; somebody give me a cigarette mean- while.” Cazalet eupplied the cigarette, struck the match, and held it with unfaltering hand. ‘The two men’s eyes met strangely across the flame. “I'll tell you all exactly what hap- pened; you can believe me or not as you Hke, You won’ forget that I knew every inch of the ground—ex- cept one altered Bit that explained iteelt.” Cazalet turned to Blanche with a dgnificant look, but she only drew an inch nearer etill. “Well, it was im the little creek, where the boathouse im, that I waited for my man. He never came—by the river, I heard the motor, but it wasn’ Henry Craven that I wanted to see, but the man who was com- ing to eee him. “Teventually, I thought I must have made a mistake, or he might have changed his mind and come by road. ‘Tho dreasing-gong had gone; at least I supposed it was that by the time. It was almost quite dark, and I land- ed and went up the path past the back premises to the frent of the house. “So far I hadn't sean a soul, or been seen by one, evidently; but the French windows were open in what used to be my father’s Ubrary, the Foom was all lit up, and just as I got there,@ man ran out into the flood of light ana"—— “I thought you ssid he brushed by you in the dark? interrupted Toye. “I wae in the dark; eo was be in another second; Toye cocked his heed at beth ques- tion and angwer, but tnctined it quickly as Cazalet turned to him before Dro- ceeding. “I went in and found Henry Craven lying in his blood. That's gospel—it was so I found him—lying just where he bad fallen in a heap out of the leather chair at his desk. The top right-hand drawer of his desk was open, the key in it and the rest of the bunch atill swinging! A revolver lay as it had dropped upon the desk—it had upest the ink—and there were cartridges lying loose in the open drawer, and the revolver was loaded. “I swept it back into the drawer, turned the key and removed it with the bunch. But there was something else on the desk—that silver-mounted truncheon—and @ man's cap was on the floor. I picked them both up. “My firat instinct, I confess it, was to remove every sign of manslaughter and to leave the scene to be recon- atructed into one of accident—selzure anything but what it was!" He paused as if waiting for a ques- tion. None was asked. Toye's mouth might have been sewn up, his eyes were like hatpins driven into his head, ‘The other two simply stared. Betty Vincent Gives Advice on Courtship and Marriage “Beach Manners.”” HIS is the T time of year when one can have a splen- did time at the beach, But it lan't necessary to forget all one’s good manners. However real one's affection, it is never good form to give pub- Ne demo@stration of it, The girl and the young man who ait too close together on the beach, or openly em- brace each other, may be engaged, or even married, But onlookers don't know that. And a crowded board- ® ® ® ® © walk or stretch of sand is no more the place for such cares: than is Broadway or Fifth avenue. Young people can find plenty of enjoyment at the seashore without losing their dignity and self-respect. “R. T." writes “I have been en- gaged for four months to a young man, but I am afraid I have grown tired of him. At first 1 thought him perfection, but now I can find nothing but faults in him. Would tt not be an Injustice to bim to marry, feeling asl d Yes. You had better break your en- Gagement at once, “A. 8." writes: “I am in love with a very pretty girl, but I fear my af- fections are noi recipr How can 1 win this y ow how attention she permits. “Is it proper for a young lady when in conversation with “J. J." writes: girl friends or in the presence of young Sentlemen to use such up!’ ihe expressions are slangy and the | Most refined girls avoid slang. Two Men. “L. ¥." writes: “I am mixteen and In love with a young man who has a g00d position and who I feel sure loves me. 1 alao know a young man who seems to Mke me and when I am with him I think I care for him. Ls it possible to love two men at the same tine?" Not with the sort of afféction on which marriage should be based. You are so young that you probably do not really love either man, “K, T." writes: a mil, but her parents wor take her to dances, as thi ‘Tam in love with ‘t let me consider {go away with | thoug the new steps improper, Now, Lam de- voted to dancing, and I know anothi girl who |s @ beautiful dancer, hut whom | don’t love as I do the first r| jma girl, Shall I give her up or give up my dancing? it doesn't seam as if 1 could do either.” Why don't you find some place where the new dances are dono in & really proper mgnner? Then per- haps you can pernuade the parents of ‘the girl you love to change thelr minds, “D, A." writes: “If a young lady goes out with @ young man and happens to meet other friends of hers, shoula she th friends even she 1@ not engaged to the young man?" Af she does 80 wh cort discourteous! treating her ea- “Pp. D." writes: “Lam a farly good- looking younsg lady, but I do not seem to attract young men. I always fear t they will think I am trying to rt them, and so | wait for them to make the advances, Js this a wrong attitude?” st 1. Not at all. Only remember that you A ROMANCE OF LOVE GREATER LOVE HATH NO MAN BY FRANK L. PACKARD. AND OF SUPREME ACRIFICE. Re Ae “It wae @ mad iden; but 1 hed-gone mad,” continued Casalet. “I had hated the victim alive, and it could ot change me that be was dead or dying; that didn’t make him a white riem, and neither did it necessarily blacken the poor devil who had prob- ably euffered from him Hite the rest of us and only struck bim down in welt-defense. “The revolver on the desk made that pretty plais. It was out of the way, but now I saw blood all over the desk aa well; it was soaking into the blotter, and it knocked the bot tom out of my idea. What was to be done? I had meddied already; how could I give the alarm without giv- ing myself away to that extent, and God knows how much further? “The most awful moment of the lot came as I hesitated—the dinner gong went off in the hall outside the door! I remember watching the thing on the floor to eee if it would move. “Then I lost my head—absolutely. I turned the key in the door, to give myself a fow seconds’ grace or start; & reminded me of the keys in my hands. One of them was one of those Uttle round bramah keys, It seemed familiar to me even after so many years. “T looked up and there was my father’s Michelangelo closet, with its little round bramah keyhole. I opened it as the outer door was Knocked at and then tried. But my mad instinet of altering every possible appearance to mislead the police stuck to me to the last. “And I took the man’s watch chain into the cleset with me, ‘well ee the cap and truncheon that I had picked up before, “I don't know how tong I was above Bround, #0 to speak, but one of my father’s objects had been to make hig retreat eound-tight, and I .cowlé ecarcely hear what was going on in the room. That encournged me; and two of you don't need tellins how I got out through ¢he founda- tions, because you know all aboyt the hole I made myself as @ boy in the floor under the oillcloth, "Tt took some finding with single matohes; but the fear of your neck Gives you eyes in your finger-ends, and gimlets, t8o, by Jove! The worst part was getting out at the other end, into the cellars; there were heaps of empty bottles te move, one by one, before there was room to open the manhole door and to squirm out over the slab; and I thought they and as but nobody seemed to bear him either. I got to my boat, tipped @ fellow the towing path to take it back ce pay for it—why haven't the hold of bim?—and ran down bridge ever the weir, “T stopped @ big car with ebaver smoking his pipe at T should have thought he'd forward for the reward that was Up, but I pretended I was late dinner I had in town, and I let him érop mo at the Grand Hotel. 'He cost me a fiver, but I bad on & Walstcoat lined with notes, and I'd more than five minutes in hand at g3k Fee iti 32 the whole idea of doubling back to Genoa. I must have been half-way up to town before I thought of it!” He bad told the whole thing as he always could tell an actual expert- enco; that was one reason why it rang ao true to one listener at every point, But the sick man's sunken eyes had advanced from their sockets in cumu- lative amazement. And Hilten Teye laughed shortly when the end was reached, “You figure some on our credulity!" was his firet comment, “I don't figure on anything from you, Toye, except a pair of handcuffs 4s @ firat instalment!” ‘Toye rose in prompt acceptance of the challenge. “Seriously, Cazalet, you ask us to believe that you did all this to screen a man you didn't have time to recognise?’ ve told you the facts.” “Well, I guess you'd better tell them to the police.” Toye took his hat and stick, Soru- ton was struggling from his chair. | Blanche stood petrified, a dove under i & serpent's 6 as Toye made her 4 sardonic bow from the landing door. “You broke your side of the con- tract, Miss Blanche! I guess it's up to me to complete.” “Wait” @ It was Serutan's raven croak; he had tottered to his feet. “Sure,” said Toye, “if you've any- thing you want to say as an inter- ted party.” “Only this—he's told the trath!"" “Well, can ho prove it?” “don't know," said Scruton, "But I can!" ou?” Blanche chimed in there, “Yes, I'd like that drink fire, if y be cordial without being forward. | you don't mind, C ‘ ih elty iil RH k Af lial $ = paest : t Fe i will forgive me! his the other place, thanks Guess I'll leave the ii au heard a quavering croak of to the rather human god from the American machine. “I'm afraid he'll never go hack with you to the bush,” whiapered Blanche, ‘Scruton?t” “y 96." “fm afraid, toc, But T warted tr take somebody else out, too, I waa trying to say 80 over a week ago, when we were talking abeut old Venus Potts, Blanchie, will ‘you come?" | THE BND, Stands Will Cost $1.25. he - Yow! You Get It for Gos,