The evening world. Newspaper, August 5, 1914, Page 15

® ‘ ot Caverieht, 1914, by f CHAPTER IX. (Continued.) A Proposal. DON'T know just how i ing a little wistfully. should be the happi time in the y: should $7 Everything 1s 00 fresh and n ‘Aad clean; it’s like the beginning Ufe all over again—old lite making George H, Doran Company.) * “StNorsis oF pakcEitna cHaPrens, to n't ow of -Sreah start with the scars and smirch- ) @@ all wiped out, and new life bud- ding into bein, dest fen't tor me." “Bball ton Tha ey, ope! prison wall across the lawn. ‘e8,"—Merto: “Bits been nere to x been here *. there’ @round you all your is just it, It should be the giad- time of all the year, but some- Sometimes, like to-day, it—it I tell you why?” said Mer- Quickly, snatching at a lead that for him, ‘—he pointed to the high, volce wag eager, You 1 want to take you away from out into the worl ww 4, iywhere, you will see new things and Roe & different life—anywhere, im; the gone a little from her e but her blue she said, Ne I do not want to hurt you. “I do not love you, IT am very, very sorry this has happened. Rot know thi t you—that you a I never ate, I will make ub you | work for you, sla give you everything ‘t can wish. Merton! T love you, Let me go!"=-hi “Mr. ht her hand, and now she nehed herself free. & moment they stood faci! other without speaking, as though brushed his hand across ni Th akening from his I“am mad.” he sald pent- "I did not know what I w: But I cannot bear to lo eve you and nnot give you You do not love me now, but day I can win your love. And I : right about this, Janet—Miss if you would only go away, Yaven n for a little while, you would Janet's eyes were on the ground. “It is quite useless to say anything *more,” she said monotonously, never love you.” it you must!"—he was her again earnestly. mat give you up. I love you; you a severything to me. answer.” * “T are I cannot take that *¥ou must take It," sho answered use it is the only answer ‘yor CHAPTER X. The Fight. T was not 80 many hours, less succession of periods so «many @ number- ao loosely defined one from the other that the; merged without per- ceptible demaracation into a single Mtwhole that, in itself intangible, held "4'a0 concrete idea of time. "0 'o Varese, it w in the midst of a space, drear a though he were sfiead, that had no boundary, that above and below and on either hand was limitless, through which he had feourneyed and must journey without sepe of coming to the end. «Wenger! Other guards we atrict, perhape harsh, but they were human; iq Man was @ bully of the lowest . on who gloried in his malicious tyr- * anny, suave and sleek to his superiors p-mot a convict in his charge. save * pne or two of his favorites who fawned } upon him, but would have torn him Mmb from limb if they dared—and ~pome of them dared, given but « “ghadow of @ chance—Twisty Connors, » for nstance, and the Butcher and their pals. They had even broached it to hin hinted darkly at other thin sounding him, testing him, t him out, after Twisty, with superstition of his illite “4 as ry- a ‘ate kind to whom luck was the only deity had taken the initiative. Seven- Seven-seven—lucky seven! a “Mabbe theres something I'll @t whose shrine homage was ever paid, let in on one of these days,” Tyisty had said, It had a strange It had taken t ‘frenio effect. wo ths to arrive at the point where rising and the “bumping off” ‘Wenger was mooted—"when all was ready.’ Saks Varg' bean little to their likin; £ Varge’ * * re he worked, Wenger, »Feom, Twisty Connors and .» Butch Since then, they had drawn answer had edi eyes swept slowly, ering on details, around the shop for the moment, had gone into the sions: e dividing thelr glances between each other and the narrow, ae Py The Story of a Nameless Hero’s | GREATER LOVE HATH NO 1BOHODHHOBOG.HOHDOOAOQOSHDG: open doorway of through which Wenger had disap- peared. An old man—Blackie Lunn—sidied over to Varge, “You'll let me in on it, won't you?’ Blackie pleaded feverishly. “You'll Jet an old man in on it, won't you? @ Don't say no! You ain't been here long enough to have your heart all dried up, Twisty saya | ain't got the sand. You speak to him—you tell him I have. I have got sand. Oh, let me in on it—it's killing me in here—I got to get out or I'll die. I know what's going on. The tunnel’s & and they're at the brick now an Wenger had crept up on them. “Tunnel?” snarled the guard. “What about a tunnel?” He seized Blackie’s arm and twisted it viciously. The old man screamed in agony. Tt lasted the bare fraction of a sec- ond. Varge's fist whipped to Wen- ger's jaw—and Wenger stretched his length upon the floor, stunned, LY foot away. le not done it impulsively—in. etantaneously almost as was the act, wick as was the rush of anger at engera coward deed, he had struck the blow with cool, sober deliberation. He had known the consequencea—an Assault upon a guatd was the last act he could hope to commit with im. punity. It was the offence heinous, and bunishment was—the lash— the | strapped to the triangular black “horse” that he had seen ono day in the corridor of the under- und cells. There was no excuse ‘or an assault upon a guard— it was the lash, pga They took him then to the warden's office, and Wenger, amooth, plausible yee (rates guarding himself int. le bad egg.” Wenger stated to the warden. “He's in thick, as I've bars yee eters, ies by? worst of em, y, there ain't a day goes b: that I don't have to warn hime if Would it come some day to that? hen human endurance would be nend, when his brain would ‘agger and reel with mad drunken- reo and Wenger's blood be on his He watched thos) keen, steel- ‘ay eyes, watched the warden's face, he remembered, trying to read in the Six lashes ?—twelv: eighteen ?—twenty-four? And then Warden Rand spokt “Two days in solitary confin: No lash! ent.” He could have sobbed with relief, He had been given le: fency. Why? He did not know. A week later he stood at work in the shop, his mind bitter and hope- im media‘ roundings. A convict, with fa chalk, his eyes staring, camo racing madly from the stock-room—and then the words poured from him in @ hig! pitched, jumbled torrent. aq. Wenger’s seen him!" he yelled. ‘It's all up. Four months diggin’ down to the brik, a handful at a time, an’ it's all up! seen Scotty comin’ out from bene: the lumber pile. It’s all up, Twisty—an’ us down to the sewer with only a few bricks to kick loo: In Twisty was no misplaced leader- ie “Den beat it now!" “It's our only chance, knows what to do. Croak Wen, frat, an’ beat it! Spud, you an’ de Mouser get de rest uv dem bricks loose a The words were drowned in wild confusion—Varge was already racing toward the stock room door—over his shoulder he saw an attendant crumple up and wriggle to the floor from a blow over the head from a billet of wood in the Butcher's hands. Twisty, Spud, the Mouser, a dozen more, were close at his heels, The heavy face of locked in the collar of @ convict he was shoving before him, loomed in the doorway. “Croak ‘im! Croak ‘im! 1 tho't youso were all righti" shrilled Twisty, in the belief that Varge was but lead- ing the rush. ‘“T’ree-sevens gets the folst crack at ‘Im!" Mad with the lust for blood, mad with the lust for freedom they were. There was no thought now of per- sonal wrongs in Varge'a mind—hound and cur though Wenger was, he was at least a human being—they would tear him in pieces like wild beasts. And freedom—they were guilty men— criminala—a prey on society—what right had thew to freedom! Wenger's face had gone from red to gray, fear was in it, then came a brutish look of animal courage. Ile wrenched at his pocket for his re- volver, but the convict in his grasp-- Scotty—turned suddenly and flung his arms around him, A bull-like roar and an oath cama from Wenger as Varge neared him. “I'll get you, anyway!" he bellowod, “Fight, Wenger! Get free from that man! Fight for it if you want to live!" Varge flashed at him—and turned to face the oncoming rush. It was upon him like an avalanche, A little crouched, he met it. It seemed to quiver and part and break and scat! is backward as a temp wave breaka in futile fury againet the rocky cliff. Exeorations, a torrent of bies- phemy, curses and yella was its echo: two forms were stretched upon the floor, And then they came on again, a sea of them, the stamp of hell inthe starved white faces and glittering eyes—and ieading them now, mot Twisty, not the Butcher, was the poor, bent, disease racked form of old Blackie Lunn, “ got sand!” the ofd man shricked, “I got"—— The words died in a gurgle and he itched forward on nis face. Blackti unn had won his freedom. W: er, freed from Scotty for an instant, had red, Varge was shoulder to oul with Wenger now and the guard revolver was gepurting a@ steady stream—but it never checked them— as savage beasts the convicts swarmed upon them, leaping to close quarters to bear the two men down before the very weight of their charge, to kill and gain the door that was only yard a ne From him, tearing them from Wen- ger's neck and shoulders, Varge with he screamed. Youse guys FI Next Week's Complete Novel in The Evening World Evenin the stockroom ¢ ” ed be W Gein 4 {0} @ @ (0) ® @) @) @) @) ® @ Gonm te his mighty strength hurled away now one, now two, of ‘he murderous wolf- pack. Again and again, he freed the guard himself, and swept clear the space before the door. Again and ain, his massive shoulders heaved id threw them back, and as his arms worked in and out, in and out, like smooth well-oiled steel piston- rods, men went down before the fear- ful blows; but again and again, like striped human ti lashed to frenzy as much now by fear behind if they should not es the hope of freedom ahead, they still ca.ie on, The minutes passed. Twisty Con- with a quick dart forward, around Varge's The towering form of the Butcher, a chisel in his uplifted hand, rang for Wenger. Varge stumbled ~then, a wriggling thing, he swung the form of Twisty high above his shoulders and flung him, a human catapult, at the Butcher. The Butch- er dropped like a log—and Twisty’s body lay quivering atop the other's. Something was blinding Varge—h dashed his hand across his eyes—the blood was pouring over hia forehe: They were armed now with chisels, dzes, hatchets, gouges and they stabbed and struck in desperate fury. His jacket, slashed and cut, hung half-torn from one shoulder. Wenger, with clubbed revolver, long since emptied, was laboring heavily, reeling unsteadily upon his feet; and now, with a groan, he crashed for. ward on the floor. They snatched at him like ravenous beasts at their prey. Varge felt his own strength going. There was a wound in his side some- where that was numbing him; and the gash in his head was making his brain swim in a sickly fashion, filling it with a queer singing noise. They had dragged Wenger toward them along the floor—he sprang and dashed them back, and planted himself over the guard's body. He was weakening. Turmoil, chaos, flashing lights were before his eyes. He fought mechanically now they were too heavy for him—five on his shoulders and arms, he,could not hold them up—what was that group of striped, timid things that cringed back in the far end of the room against the wall? Why were the big iron doors open?—the bell had not rung. What were those black forms that were rushing through the door toward him?—those hoarse, strident commands? He was free, ‘they were no longer clinging to him, hacking at him-—his strength must Os a have come back—they had given it up and not one had reached the tunnel. Varge raised his hand again to brush the blood away from his eyes—it was ling, and his hands, to save him- self, groped out—into blackness, CHAPTER XI. After the Fight. the various shops came the } convicts tramping into the main building, into the wings and corridors through the great prison echoed the ring of clang- ing doors, the clash of the massive bar-locks, the shuffling tread of lock- stepped files, the hoarse, gruff, curt Ever the man of prompt and de- cisive action, Warden Rand had thrown himself into the breach, Too well he was aware that the news -!ast prisoner 11 his charge; and upon its heels, spreading infection with the excitement, he feared an outbreak of insubordination that, as well as not, Within twenty minutes following what had been the most desperate at- tempt at wholesale delivery in the history of the Inatitution, every man the penitentiary walls was under lock and key. And then in his office, man after man of those who, t!.ough tal growing very dark—he was tottering, ROM across the yards out of steel barred gates, and throughout the commands of the guards, would spread liko wildfire to every might develop into a general uprising. of the eight hundred convicts within part in the fray, had been pri nt in the carpenter shop was brought be- DBDDHOHODDHODOOHOGPHOHDHHHHDOOHNAL THE BEST DOG STORY KAZAN JOOOMOOK eves g? orld Daily Magazine. We OOOO: HRD THIS THe fore him, subjected to a stern, search- ing interrogation and led away again, Over an hour this had taken him, and now as he finished with the last one and settled back in his chair, his usu- ally genial face hard and troubled, a heavy frown on his brow, a white- Jacketed form came through the door- way and gtepped up to the desk—it tor Dr. Kreelmar, the prison physl- an. Warden Rand glanced sharply at the other’s face before hoe apoke. “I was just going to send for you, doctor,” he gaid. “Well?” Doctor Kréelmar, hort, nervous, little black-haired man of fifty, shook his head, “It's not well at all,”’ he returned bluntly, ‘“‘It’s—hum!—infernally bad. Wenger shot two dead besides Black- fe Lunn and”’—— “I know that,” interposed the warden tersely. “What about the rest?” the: “Scotty can’t live, not a ghost of a chance. Wenger's bullet touched his left lung—Wenger'll go out too, As for the others, I never saw anything like it in all my experience—some of them are battered as though they had been literally struck with a trip- hammer, and two of them have their ribs broken, simply crushed in from that chap's hug.” ‘ou mean?” inquired the warden, of course — Varge — Number Seven-seventy-seven,” sald the doc- tor. “Rand, that man is wonderful"— Joctor Kreelmar drew his breath, “Wonderful!” he repeated. “I wouldn't have believed it jf any one had told me and I hadn't seen him profession- ally myself.” “Will he live?’ Warden Rand de- manded. “Live!” exclaimed Dr, Kreelmar. “Yes; he'll live—but no other man would with the wounds he's got, He's been stabbed in a dozen, places with all sorts of tools and his*head's laid open for three inches to the skull, Of course, he’s in bad shape and will need care, but he’s conscious again and doing well, I want you to come into the hospital, Rand, next time I do his dressings—I give you my professional word you'll see something that you don't need any special knowledge of anatomy to be amazed at. the most marvellous specimen of the bus man animal I ever heard of. “I don't know how to express it ¢ any other way than to tell you to imagine the normal development of a man twice the ordinary size, and then imagine that development with all its atrength and power compressed with the utmost harmony and deli- cate adjustment in this man's body. He's an absolutely perfect man—his skin is as smooth as satin, not a spot or blemish on it, and the muscles un. der it play like steel knobs in well. oiled grooves, It’s no surprise to me he bent that bar that convicted him —his strength, fully exerted, would be something terrific.” Warden Rand nodded his head and tonned at the doctor a@ little whimsi- cally, “It would seem as though he had given us some evidence of it this afternoon from your report,” he said grimly. “So he did, so he did,” jerked out the little doctor. “And do you know, Rand, that's what gets me. How do you account for him doing what he did?—not only in keeping isty and his pala from making their escape, MAN © (= Page Fal Py Pre ri ‘ but trying to save Wenger's life as Well? He surely hadn't any love for Wenger. Wasn't it Wenger who got him the black hole last week?—and Wanted to get him the lash?” “Ye aid the warden quietly, “it ," urged the doctor, make of him?” " admitted Warden Rand, I'll confess he has n “And you thought enough of him to save him from the lash,” doctor impulsively, “We you what I think. f think has done what Merton over there in Berley cold blood, or hot blood, either, for that matter—evidence or no eviden and whi contrary. Warden Rand drummed for an in- atant with his fingers on the di “I am afraid that is not for us to he sald gravely. “We can ony with conditions as We find them. is here for life—we cannot alter this afternoon makes ‘ore to his credit, and we can % J dim, Woenger, you say, can't live?” i Noe the doctor inswered. “There no chance for him—he is sinking fast now. I'm sorry for him, for he put up a game fight. I'd give him twelve hours at the outside Merton asked ponded Warden “You've met Dr, -d the doctor atiffly. Merton bowed politely, apparently oblivious of the oth —and ad himself to Warden Rand. “I met one of the mounted patrol— Kingman—as | w driving in,” he said “Kingman told me that been in a desperate fight id that he was badly hurt. I was going over to the house, but I hurried in here instead”—Merton sensed a thrill of exultation creeping into his voice and lowered it to a tone of more con- sistent concern, "I just caught the doctor's last words as I came in, I sincerely hope that it is not as bad as that.” He turned to Dr. Kreelmar, “Ie there no chance whatever, doc- “None at all," said Dr. Kreelmar curtly, quite well aware of the mis- take Merton was laboring under, and Zeer refusing to enlighten im. “Too bad,” murmured Merton in a low voice. “Too bad. I''-— “Dr. Kreelmar was speaking. of ‘Wenger, one of the guards,” ex- plained Warden Rand quickly, with @ slight frown of disapproval directed at the doctor. , said Merton. “Not—not , I—1 am very glad. And Varge, aid the warden. “And Tam sure you will be glad to know that as soon as he is able to be about again, we are going to make things easier for him—thanks to what he bag done thie afternoot “I am indeed,” said Merton instant- ly, with well-simulated sincerity. “Anything that can be done for him, as I have told you before, will be ap- preciated by both my mother and myself. What do you intend to do for him?” “Well,” Warden Rand said genially, “I suppose the doctor here would pre- scribe plenty of fresh air, sunshine and light work—eb, doctor?” “I would,” Dr, Kreelmar “That's just what he's earned it.” smiled Warden Rand. we'll make # truaty of him, and him look after my gar- den this summer—that'll keep him outdoors all day and won't be very arduous. “A trusty—over there in the gar- den!" echoed Merton blankly. ‘Do— do you think that would be wise? ‘den d' ebrows went up a in surprise. Dr. Kreelmar looked ly at Merton. ise?" repeated Warden Rand questioningly. Perhaps I should have sald safe,” sald Merton hastily. “That is what I really meant. Of course, I'm int deply interested, in Va welfare, but, equally, I—I cannot for- ft what “he has done—what he is. was thinking of Miss Rand. Do you think it would be safe for her to have a man around there day after day without any guard to watch him who—who has—who is a murderer?” “I don’t think Miss Rand has any- thing to from a man who will offer his lif save another toward whom he has little cause to bear any goodwill,” replied Dr. Kreelmar caustically. With a quick, startled glance, Mer- ton swept the doctor's face. le! don't know what you mea: he said, his voice faltering a little in spite of himself as the unintention- al shot went home. " explained the war- letly interposing. “As for the y I agree with the hould have no uneasiness on Janet's account through sending ‘Varge over there, though I appreciate your thoughtfulness. Take it all When you go out of town matter. reading for six cents a week. country dealer has not by the foremost living authors. Are You Going Away for Vacation? yor difficult and costly to provide yourself with the right sort of reading 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 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 een able to sell, but the finest up-to-date fiction Bear this in mind, not only for yourself but for who expect to spend their vacations in the for vacation you may find it is any of your friends country. id 4 dnesday; August 5, 1914 ‘ Sacrifice and of a Love That Would Not Be lete Novel Each Week in he Evening World around, In fact, I believe it's the best thing to do, and wo might as well call It settled—you can tell him, doc- tor, when you go back, if you like.” Dr. Kreelmar nodded, and Merton, not daring to take the risk of press. ing the matter further at that time, took pains to change the subject of conversation, and presently left the office to go over to the warden’s t's the matter betwoen you demanded Warden Rand when he and the doctor again. Nothing. Don't Like him, that's Dr. Kroelmar answered crisply, parent,” amiled the You've got a bigger & woman's on occasions, but you're the worst man for violent likes and dislikes that I've over met—and you take no pains to hide them. “Why should 1? snapped the traa- cible little doctor aggressively. "I all,’ “That's very Warden dryly. heart than Kroelma get along better by being honest about it. It gives less to do with those I dis! and as for the ones I like, I'd rather tell them now that they're good fellows and that I think #o than to walt till they're dead and tell somebody else what I have thought of them—does ‘em a hanged- sight more good, wha! e'e8 6 “Vargo,” said the doctor in the prison hospital an hour later, reach- ing out and taking Varge's hand, “I want you to believe me when | gay t IT am your friend. You can trust me. I do not belleve that you are guilty and I want you to tell me the truth. You are growing weaker—you are going to die—who killed Dr. Merton “I did,” Vargo replied, meeting calmly the challenge in the other's eyes. Dr. Kreelmar bent closer, “Don't you believe that I am your friend?” he asked with gruff tender- eas. ness. Slowly Varge's hand tightened over the doctor’e—tighter and tighter—in- creasing tho pressure with his mighty strength. Dr. Kreelmar tried to look unconcerned, then bit his lip, then grasped with his other hand at the seat of his chair, and then with the pain was literally forced dancing to From the conservatory at the rear his feet. of the house and behind the barn he “I see"—t! gold head sedée8 ‘onfound you!” he burst out eud- wheeled hia barrow, loaded with thoughtfully. “And then?” f lenly, unable to bear it any longer. potted plants to the lower end of the “Another woman me , “Let go, will you! lawn where a bed had been pre; tness of a mother’s ” he. With a smile Varge releaned his for their transplanting. with J hold. He stooped to the wheelbarrow and ton—and, as I grew older and “It was useleas for you to attempt carefully began to set the plants upon Stood, filled me with the hope to & ruse, like that,” he sald simply; the ground, a smile half tender, half Worthy of my own tig et yy Bs — {oF afer if you had made me be- whimstoally playing upon his lipe..,;#2ould find her. 80 then I bad 3 Meve you, there was only one answer — On his knees over the potted plants @mbitions — that and” — Vasge 4 I could make.” Then, with a catch Varge watched her come toward him, Figen suddenly and was epesking B: in his voice, unconsciously repeating Th ifroem Award, the leafing trees, most eagerly pow. lookiag ta 4 the warden's words: “You've gut a the bloom of the honeysuckle sweet face that seemed ao big heart, doctor; I understand, and and God bless you!” “And you've got a fool hea growled the little man, puckering up his face to its flercest aspect in an effort to distract attention from tha suspiclous moisture that had sudden- ly dimmed hi» eyes. “A stubborn, mule-headed fool!” Ho turned away, but halted at the foot of the bed and turned again. “You're a strong man, Varge,” ho flung out, “a strong man—both ways, And seeing that you're rot going to die, the warden told me to tell you he was going to make a trusty of you and put you out in his garden where you'd get a nit of sunshine and fresh alr this sum- mer.” A flush of pleasure crept to Varge's cheeka, and tho fine dark eyes light- ened up and brightened—God alone know the weariness of the days be- hind; the brave patience with which he had set himself to face the same drear, endless weariness of the days to come. He reached out bis band to the doctor. said Dr. Kreelmar, “No; not—I'll wait till you get and abruptly walked away. Midnight came and went. There was a sudden stir, the quick move- ment of some one near him, and Varge, instantly aroused, raised him- self to his elbow. Doctor Kreelmar waa bending over Wenger's bed. Feebly Wenger's hand stretched out and groped across the space between them—and ently, while his eves grow wet, Varge caught and pressed it in both his own, “Good-night,” Wenger whispered. "Good" — There was a fluttering sigh, the hand relaxed—and Wenger had passed out into the long night. CHAPTER XII, The Guards Are Changed. NEW life had opened for Varge. There was the vast, Mmitless blue overhead; the warm sunshine, tanning his face to a ruddy brown and chasing the pallor of prison and of illness from his cheeks; the balmy air of springtime to drink in full, deep draughts, like precious nectar spiced with the smell of fresh, new earth and growing things—and it was her garden. He remembered the first morning, & week ago now, when Doctor Kreel- mar had discharged him from the infirmary and they had sent him to the warden’s house—and he had found her on the lawn, She had seemed like @ being from another world, a gift of God of sweetness, purity and inno- cence, one to worship as above and apart; and bis soul, the better, the finer things that were in him had gone out to her in homage and Jewlance, as one might reverently upon an altar a glad, spontaneo tribute to one of loftier mould, who, diffusing about her intangibly an air of fine contagion, bred the gentler, dearer things of life. As he stood before her then, the black-and-gray striped felon auit he wore had seemed @ desecration of her Presence; and t she should think him what he appeared to be had t the hot blcod flushing to hi And then with what gentle tact sha had put him at his ease! — him of ber gard r plans for some new flower trimming of the honeysuck! that fronted on the roadway, ret hey the ts. Sage Py A fi @ By Frank L. Packard me—Varge. I was left Pry hy) e of a foundiing home, you"—— "Yes," she sald softly; “I that. But was there investing him so ingeniously with the counterpart of her own personal in- terest in it all. “T ha ind I love it eo. And this year, mark on your clothes, no you knew, I am more ambitious sage, no little, trin about it than ever. I am so glad you would”— are going to take care of it for me. “Tam afraid,” he had answer her honestly, and he remembered the foar that had been his lest she should take him at his word, “that I do not know very much about garden- ing, and that?— “You love flowers, too,” she had interrupted, shaking her head. “I can see that; so you will love your work, and then—and then, weil it can’t help but be well done, can It?” —and she had smiled at him, and nodded brightly—and he had begun to work—in her garden. That night in his cell, and the nights thereafter, there came to dheer and brighten him not one face only, but two—Mrs. Merton’ Janet Rand's; and whon thereafter, with each dawn, the first threads of morn- ing sualight stole across the corri- dor from the high winds 4, and, eluding the s.eel bars of his cell door, awakened him to the rounds of an- other day, it was to a day different from those he had known before—a day whore | cirgeen ed no longer to tured him, but one which now h welcomed with almost eager glad- ness, The fearful sense of isolation was During the day, the warden sometimes stop and gros to or perhaps Doctor is elbow to flilng a im Varge shook his head. ' “There was nothing. “And nothing has come with years? No clue to your Surely you have tried to find you were.” ‘The trowel in Varge's hand Fi Sgainst the rim of the pot as loosened 6 earth, and the splendid head bent forward instant suddenly—-then he ed and lool the hed up at her, brown eyes, the whole beauty of his face e whOnce.! he bald; in low ton “the “Once,” he in low tones, ’ dearest, wish I had to know — mg ; mother.” sd Quick tears dimmed the a eyes, as her hand reached out aed a rested upon his arm. Her lips quive “ “No; you have hurt me—and you must not fest 7eTnon ‘auick! though eo quickly, as picking the thread of a story: see, I had little T dreamed of it as & te séersinnd, 1 aryammen of it undersi fairyland—do you know mean? Pi net ager lwal fing LJ portantly, concerned own and i imagii him; would halt at good-natured, jesting warning at not to plant the bulbs upside down— q but mostly it was Janet Rand, hie ere, 7 natio ey new guard og the warden laughingly stantly at play. I ple 4] called who had brought the king 7 « change t¢ Much shrough tne pass. day they were together, and her « ringing Jaug' rich, full seemed like ins of some divine yachts melody that stirred @ joyous eche in his own soul, rr And so a week had the happiest week he had known in weary months; and now in the fresh, cool, early morning he was beginning an- other day's work, hed framed her well. How wonderful she. {0 Did Bim epen his ght and to was! Stra! true, the id ire the means that Be 4 crowned hoad erect, the laughin, to} able me to search.” R blue as the sky above, the eh, red wee, for rl Satgents. emiling full white tl . oko | Goa's pitt of love, of innocence and gently. “T would Tike to x4 ; purity. '@ ahrine of His owa building Fest” ° CLS p Manght: eles bee teats COMA PP tat Mevplnd hin faow at oreeg 90 pal else bu “Good morning, Varge,” she cried rest ie—ruin, wreckage and éisester: cheerily, as she came up and—some- thing she had never done before—held out her hand. Impulsively, Varge stretched out his own, then dropped it to his side—and flushed, “I have been working,” he said, and LREADY late | afternesa, Ufted his hand for her inspection. “It A ts not clean enough for you to take.” Varge came through the juick, For @ moment she did not speak and bs her oven. suddenly frown serious, the few hundred yards a @. she said, her voice \ . days had passed since there; four days that “I think it would be very like you,” terminably lohg and Varge said slowly. “You are very four days, too, that had aa seas and—and I am very abje, unpleasant ones for , but*— f the four were talking about you last Mach day o night, Varge,” she said aimply, her dozen othera under guard, eyes on the toe of her shoe as she taken from the peniten! patted down a little mound of earth. morning and driven to Doctor F act as witnesses in the think in the last week I have come to Twisty and the Butcher, as know you better than he leaders, together with thelr @ lieve in you, too.” She raised her plices for the murder of W eyes quickly to his, “Vi won't you give me your hand and tell me it and let us help you to ae ane take us as true, CHAPTER Xill. Varge Makes a Discovery. i Ai 3 : i has ? i 4 i from the road, the crunch of not do it,” he said steadily, “Then I will take it on my own appraisement,” she said, putting her hand frankly into his, the back in her voice aga! my faith is not to be shaken. 9 cool, firm pressure of her hand thrilled him and seemed to tear down his self-restraint; the quick, spon- taneous act of trust brought a mist to his eyes. i + - @od for such as you!” be ispered. ¢ Ho turned from her abruptly, and, with bis cap dusted out the wheel- parrew=it was a favorite seat of ers. She thanked him now and took It, resting her elbows on the handles, her chin in her hands, ‘ge, on his knees again, to take the plants from the! “How wonderfully you with the garde. ttle laugh to er embarrass: ment, “and how quickly, for one who sald he knew nothing about it, you have learned in the last week. I came to superintend the transplanting this morning and I find there ts no Reed for supervision, so'—gently— : i li [ I the tight-drawn and part over the vgs. another voice he knew as hers bad reached him. Motlonless he stood there—like’ @ statue in the act of driving a spaée home into the ground—one foot lifted with ite heavy prison boot ing on the top of the blade, the striped form i and-black forward as though to bring the welgat and shoulder muscles ‘or step was on the front veran@s now. There was a confused mi : of laughter and voices; and ‘then beer merrily: “Well, put the horse in the baj firat, and then we'll see Ir pots. have done she sald with A moment more Vi etood “will you talk to me as you work— shout yoursele? | 1 think it helps sade crossed auishiy toto Soe, sometimes, doesn’t It—to talk? And Spade, crossed quickly to the ithcrew out of sight bebind I should be #0 glad to listen. About tall, He had barel ur life and your friends back in the vo bry the hap to wait. The carriage wheels ler days.” “I am afraid there is not much to talk about—that you would care to hear,” he eald gravely. ‘The white forehead puckered dain- ly on the wooden tily in pretended severity and rebuke. a a from thi "Oh, ye here is," she said. “Your head. ith a little name—it is such a curious name, How the animal rubbed {I did they come to call you Varge, and his shoulder. what does it mean?” “Lady Mine,” he “I do not know what {t mean but his eyes pla Varge answered, his quick, sensitive old Merton on the afraid 01 tt smile upon his lips. “I am it does not really mean anything— ne gray-white, Fallon from ny e on the vel drive him pi the side ihadow fell across and as the stamp of of and & word of babyhood coinage for some- thing, perh They sald it was the only word in my vocabulary when dashboard. EVER WRITTEN. @BODOOQHOOOGHDHDOH"ODHHODGGHDHODHHOOHHDIHEOHHODOSIL AN IDEAL SUMMER ROMANCE OF THE GREAT OUTDOO By JAMES OLIVER CURWOOD OOOSDHOODDOHON