The evening world. Newspaper, June 15, 1915, Page 15

) ne /.. oatved Mr. Giveen. —— Author of “DRUM! ARN AMAA AM ATM (Copyright, 1900, by Duffield & Co.) DING CHAPTERS er and A f and pretty Ameri an langhiter tchee! Breach. eriahed We i 9 Dashword—is. in love ‘with Ret Méenployer. French for the city and suburinn fade city and auburn tad the colt and everything elee Trench, for debt, French involves himself CHAPTER Il. (Continued,) a 4 Sse eee HIE clouds had ceased raining, had risen to an immense meet, 0 show | height, and there, under the for neighborhood opinion, as influence of some wind of the upper atmosphere, had become mackerelled—a gray, peaceful sky, showing here and there through rift the faintest tinge of blue, The air smelt of the rain and the rain-wet earth, and the hills Iay dis- tinct, gray, peaceful, wonderfully clear, Nowhere elfe in the world but in Ireland do you get such weather as this, ‘ Hennessy, the master of the hounds, lived at a place called Bar- ,Fington Court, seven miles south of Drumboyne. He was a young man, &@ bachelor, anda pretty fast liver; he owned a good bit of land, and, like every other landowner in the county, Was pretty much under the thumb of the league, But he was, unlike French, a diplomat. “That's . Hennessy,” French, when the turning of the road suddenly showed them the long, straggling street of Drumboyne, the iharket cross, the hounds, the master and the whips, and about two dozen “horsemen, mounted on all sorts and Conditions of nags, all congregated about the cross, “We're just in time, ‘The first moet of the season, too, and @ grand day for the scent.” Violet Grimshaw, who had never until this seen @ meet of the hounds except in the illustrated papers, looked before her with interest not unmixed with amusement at the crowd surrounding the cross. All sorts of rabble had gathered from north, south, east and west. Gossoons without a shoe to their feet; chaps from “over beyant the big bog,” in knee-breeches and armed with shillelaghs; dirty little girls dragging younger sisters by the hand to bave a look at the “houn’ Father Roche, from Cloyne, who had stopped to say a cheery word to Heh+ the hunt-master; Long Doolan, catcher, In an old red walst~ Coat; Billy Sheelan, of the Station Jon, the sume who had directed Mr. Dashwood on his fishing expedition, and who, by popular report, was “drinking the inn dry”’—all these and lot more were clattering and laugh- shouting one to the other, and giving advice to the whips, when French and his companton, rounding the turn in the foad, made their apr earance. oorne effect was magical. The talk- ing and the laughter ceased. Men fell away from one another, and as French rode up to his master, three farmers who had been talking to turned their horses so that their Peake ‘were presented to the new- By the inn Sori which used pepe opposite the cross, mn - & uy as Giveen yee: into the inn, but a momen date! face appeared .at. the bar- veal ws and remained there during ‘all. that followed. “Well, Hennessy,” said the master of Drumgoole, appearing to take no notice of the coldness of hls recep- tion, “you've a fine day for the first meet. Allow me to introduce you to young lady who is staying with me. neasy—Miss Grimshaw, And ae are you going to draw?” | “Barrington Scrub, I believe,” re- Med Hennessy, saluting the girl, "Yes, it's not a bad day. Do you in- ‘tand to follow?” “No. We'll go to see you draw t ished ecrub, that's all. Why, there's * | Father Roche! And how are you to- Gay? Faith, it's younger you're look- time I meet you. And why Hirent I seen you at Drumgoole these months?” As he turned to talk to "the priest several of the hunt drew close to Hennessy and spoke to him in & low tone, but so vehemently that. ‘Violet, observing everything, overheard several of thelr remarks. “Not a fut does he follow the \’' poun's. What do I care about him? “ in, ‘Giveen said he swore he'd fli the whole of the Castle Krench prop- erty into grazing Iand to spite the league. Listen now, and it's the last stime I'l say it. If he goes, we 5 +” "French!" sald the master, detach- ing himself from the group. Feruito!” replied Mr. French, Just a word with you: He drew him aside. “phers's a lot of bad blood here. my fault, but’ you know and they lave & down hem, and they ¢ b, they'll all stay behird Now, wet n't, You know it's not my fault, waxy. but there it is. French's eyes blazed “Follow you to the s a loud, ringing yoice. “Thank you for the hint, Dick Hennessy. Follow you with that pack of half-mounted rat- catchers! [ was going to ride to the serub to seo if there was ever a fox white-livered enough to turn ite tail on them, and, sure, if he did, ho couldn't rum for laughing. And, talk- ing of tails,” said Mr, French, turn ter and addressing the market-plice, “if the gentleman «who ont off the tails of old Ryan's dows will only step forward, T'll ac: commodate him with my opinion of ing from the * him here and now. And it's not the whip-end of my hunting-erop I'll do ft with, either.” No gentioman present was at all /desirois of being accommodated, for French turned the scale at fourteen atone, all muscle, and He was a match for any two men present He waited a momont. ‘Then he took off bis hat to Miss Grimshaw. An Irish Romance of Love H. DE VERE ST is he was riding with the said =Mr. Ww - The Evening World Daily 'Magaeine, Tuesday: June 15. 1915" More “Differi ENEMA OWEN and Horseracing ACPOOLE OF WAR,” “I must apologize to you,” he said, “for losing my temper. Let n to Cloyne, for this is no plage for & lady to be, at al He touched the fiddle-headed devil uur, making hig plunge and scatter the ragamuf- fins who were hanging on the acene with open mouths, and, cannoning against and nearly unseating one of the “half-mounted rat-catchers,” ho road to Cloyne, followed by It was the first time he had come in clash with his countrymen; the storm had been brewing @ long time, but it had burst at last. To think that he, Michael French, in his own couritry, had been ordered not to fol- low the hounds by a herd of dirty- fisted petty farmers was @ thought to make his blood’ boil. Petty spite, needie-sharp—that was the weapon the league were using against Mich- acl French by day. In their own dis- gusting language, he was a “first of- fender.” Even yet, if he chose to give in. and eat humble pie out of the grimy hands of the men who would be his masters, he might find forgive- ness. if not, boycotting would follow, and who knows what else? He knew this, and he knew that he had no hope of help from the law. The police might arrest his tormentors it they were caught bide | to do him an injury; but the jury, they were tried, would be pretty sure to let the offenders slip, And it was a hundred to one they would never be caught, for these people are, trained sneaks; no area sneak is more soft-fodted or cunning than the gentleman with the black cloth mask and the knife, who comes Iiké a thief in the night to work brutal mutilation on cattle. Garryowen was the only thing he afraid of; but in Moriarty he had a rock of strength to depend upon. ‘Did you #ee Dick Giveen?” said he, as the ranged alongside of him. “He's a finger in this pie. Did you sce him at the inn window with his nose to the pane? He knew I'd.come to the meet, and he came to see those chaps get the better of me.” "They didn’t get that,” said Violet. “They looked like whipped puppies when you were talking to them. Yes, I'm sure that man has been doing you injury. I heard one of the farm- ers say to Mr. Hennessy that Giveen had sald you would do your FI spite the league. wish I gone with him in the b It I hadn't, this would not have oc- curred. “I don’t care for those chaps so much as for Dick Giveen,” said he. “He's o bad man to vex. These fools always are. now like a stoat trying to do me some dirty trick, He'll watch and wait. I know him. But if he comes within five miles of Drumgoole I’ put @ bullet in him, or my name’ not Michael French.” At Cloyne, while French was trans- acting some business, Violet fell into talk with.an ancient Irishwoman— one Mrs. Morlarty—who, in the chat, lot slip the fact that she had heard the league planned to mutilate some of French's horses. “Well, Usten to me,” sald Violet. “If you' hear any more of those men going to harm Mr. French or his horses jet me know, and I'll give you & allver five-shilling piece for your- self.” Just then French appeared and the two rode home to Drumgoole. French's whole soul, heart, and mind were centred on Garryowen. In Garryowen he felt he had the instru- ment which would bring him name and fame and fortune. It was no fanciful belief. He knew horses pro- foundly; here was the thing he had been waiting for all his life, and everything was conspiring to prevent Mm using tt, First, there was Lewis and his debt—that was bad enough. Second, was the fact that he would have to complete the training of the horse in a hgstile country, and that country the Ipeland of to-fay, a place where fuw i# not and where petty ruffianism has been cultivated as fine art. With Giveen for a spy on his movements, with a hundred scoundrels ready to do him an injury, and with Lewis only waiting to put out his hand and selze the horse, he was, it must bo admitted, in a pretty bad way to the attainment of his desires. But he had a friend, and-as long as a man has‘a friend, however humble, he is not altogether in the hands of Fate. Violet had been exercising her busy mind on the seeming hopeless- ness of the problem presented to her in French and his affairs, One even- ing. she said to him: ‘Do you know I've been thinking’ ‘What have you been thinking?” “That I've found a way out of your difficulty about Garryowen.” “And what's that?” asked French, who, since the affair of Effie, had Lew conceived & deep respect for Miss Grimshaw’s cleverness and perspi- cuity. “Well, it's this way,” said ehe, “That man Lewis is your stumbling block. “Call him my halter," said the owner of Garryowen, “for if ever a man had a blind horse in a halter, it’s me and him.” “No, I will not call him any such thing, He's only # money-lender, You owe him the money. Garryowen will belong to, bim after the 3d of April. Well, let him have Garry- owen ‘faith, there's no letting about it.” Let him have Garryowen, I say, t until after the race.’ ‘Why—what do you mean?" “T mean this, Would it not be pos- sible to take Garryowen away from here secretly? He does not belong to Mr. Lewis yet. Take him away to some lonely place, train him there and run him for the race. If he wins, wou will make money, won't you? And if he loses, why, he will belong to Mr. Lewis." French rose the floor. “That's not a bad dea," said he. “By George! It's. good, if we could do it. Only, could we keep it Mid?” up and paced “Does Mr. Lewis know you are run- ning him for the race?” “No, He doesn't know I've got him, and the debt's not due till a fortnight before the event. And, by Jove! if he does see my name in the racing lists he'll put It down as my cousin, Michael French's—the one Mr, Dashwood met—for Michael runs horses in England every day in the week, and his name's as well known as the Monument. Faith! and It's a bright idea, for I'd cet rid of all thia he Aone sweep.” He'll be on my tracks - ng as to M ethods” a a J. H. Cassel New jening World, ee A Siren of the Snows By STANLEY SHAW iad er into the kitchen gard and from there along the uphill path te the cliffs, At the gate leading into the kitch warden as she came back a dirty and draggle tailed girl without boots or whoos, @ girl of about fourteen, with & dirty face, was endeavoring to un- ravel the mystery of the lateh—it wae @ patent latch with @ trick bar in the staple—and fallin; Miss Grimshaw c sistance, opened the id it open for the other to pass through, but the damsel did not enter. She stood with eyes downcast. Then bo looked up, then she looked down, then—— “It you plase, Miss,” said she, “are you the young lady ould Mrs, Mori- arty tould me to ax for?” I'm sure I don't know,” laughed “Where's Moriarty, and he come with the car?” “In the stable, sorr—wid the horses, He hasn't left them a minit since Monday afternoon, and he tould me to harness the mare and stick her ip the car and come to the station,” “All right,” said French. “Hop + Dashwood. ‘Here, get the lugsege board, Buck, and I'll hold the mare.” Drumgosis, Violet, at soene, if neal, ‘umgoole, Violet, at sound of came to the front door, T! abe met Bobby Dashwood. “Where's Mr. Fren 1” asked the "ite jumpea, down at the stable entrance,” said Mr. Des Gee gling out of his tooat, * o sreate ty Violet, then, remembering the name, ‘© S¢@ the horses, me wo “Do you mean old Mra, Moriarty at Come in and tell you ‘ 7 Cloyne?" She led the way into the dining rs, way oa ree Vou've got the same dedagom that oe Sect t he eond your” you had before,” said she—"the ene with the glimpse of the sea. Mrs. Driscoll has put @ fire ¢ and the servant at the binck. theyive been airing shoot '#, miss, and ould Mra. Moriarty Of catching cold. tinan't t sex to me to keep me ears open to heen aw! “peal hear if the bhoys was afther pi Awful!” said Mr. Dash any tricks on Mr. Frinch, an’ she'd she was dying to ask him why he had come over from Eng! this wid me ears open, pretendin’ to be neason of the year; why he asiape, and I heard him say to his ht, re, Who can tell but in her knew the reason . and, knowing it, felt pe with his strange manner and Ce ‘They talked on indifferent itters —Effie forth—till - arty, and he was full of the business of the horses; and, strange ce y: with the entrance of eh hwood's manner completel: changed. stiffness vanis! and he became his old, irres) Joyous self again. “Think of it! eaid Mr. round of beef. “Coming to try their tricks on the horses! Mortarty haan't left his eye off Garryowen since [ left, begad! I'll pension him for life if I wim the City and Sub. je Mad of the blackheartedness of He went into the details we know. Gall and wife: ing ‘Mr. Blood, the blackamith, mins, and his wife, and I lyin’ wid me ears open and they thinkin’ me aslape. ‘What are they goin’ to do? says ‘he coult,” says he. al ‘The same, many of t says ‘And who's goin’ to do it? ‘Black Larry,’ he says, ‘and now shut your head, for it's tired I am and wants to go to slaps!” “Good heavens!” said Mise Grim- shaw, "Yea, miss,” replied the taleteller, evidently pleased with the effect of Mr. French went to the door, nd called; the whiskey!" continued Mr. French, “the only question is where could I take the horse? Faith! and I have it. Todd Mead—he's a man you've never heard of—Nas an old shanty down in Sligo. He uses it for breeding polo ponies, and there’ hundred square mile of heath that you could train a dromedary on and not a soul to see. He lives in Dublin, and keeps manager there, and he'd give mé stabling there, maybe, for nothing, for he has more room than he want It's a big streeling barn of a place. “You say the debt to Mr. Lew due a few weeks before asked Miss Grimshaw. “Will he seize your things imme- diately the debt 1s due, or might he give you a few weeks’ grace?” “Not an hour's, I botrowed the money, giving him the house and live stock as security, and the bit of and he'll after the land that's unmortgaged, clap @ man in ten minut clock strikes on the day tl is due.” to me,” said Mr, French, “I borrowed the money before I owned Garryowen. Sure, the main reason I borrowed It was to buy him, He's not part of the security.” “You are sure Mr. Lewis can't come down on you before April?” “No. I paid him his half-year’s in- terest last month. I paid bim close on two hundred pounds.” “Well, if you paid him his interest next April, wouldn't he be satis. fled?" “Of course he'd be satisfied, but how am I to pay it? I tell you, it will take me every penny I have for the expens ‘There's no margin for paying money-lenders, I've made my calculations. By scraping and secre ing, with some money I've hid awa: T can just manage to run the col Pay expenses, and back him for @ thousand—and that’s all.” “But, see here. Why not back nim for only eight hundred, and pay afr. is his two hundred?” “Now, there you are,” said French. shows you haven't grasped the big thing I'm after. Sup- pose I pay Lewis his two hundred, Do you know what that would make me lose if he starta, at, say, a hundred to one, and wins? I'd lose twenty thousand pounds, It's on the cards that for every hundred pounds I lay on Garryowen I'll) win ten thousand." “So that, If he wins, and you have full thousand on him?" 1’! win a hund thousand.” And if he loses alth, T'H be stripped as naked as Bryan O'Lynn." ‘There was & fine sporting flavor In this deal with fortune that pleased Miss Grimshaw somehow. “There is one more thing,” a#he sald. “Please excuse me for asking the question, but if you lose the thou- sand, {t will be all right, I sup- pose? T mean, you will bs able to meet your liabilities?" “Sure, you do not take me for a blackieg? Of course, T'll be able to pay. Isn't it a debt of honor?” “Good. ‘Then go in and win. Isn't that what the boys say when they're fighting? I'll help as far as my power will allow me, Will you write to Mr. Todd—what's his name? “No.” sald Mr. Feeneh "go to Dublin to-morrow and see him.” CHAPTER Il. RENCH went to Dublin. And thera he called at No, 82 Leesom Street. Mr. Mead was in, and the old butler, who opened the door, showed the visitor straight into the iibrary—a comfortable, old-fash- > th foned room, where, before a bright fire, Mr. Mead, a small, bright-eyed, apple-cheeked, youthful looking per- son of eighty or so, was seated in an armehair reading Jorrocks's “Jaunts and Jollities.”” “Why, there you are!" cried Mead, jumping up. “And there you are! sald Mr. French, clasping the old fellow's band. “Why, it's younger you're growing every time I see you! Did you get my wire? Qh! you did, did you? Two o'clock! ‘The scoundrels! I sent it off from the Sh 2. Neo matter. Ibourne at And how's the fam- “All right,” replied Mead, putting Jorrocks on the mantelshelf and ring- ing the bell, “Billy married last win- ter. You remember I wrote to you? And Kate's engaged—James, a bottle of the blue-seal port!—and what's the News!" said French with a short jaugh hat news do you expect from the West of Ireland except news: n being plundered and cattle ed? News! I'm leaving the place; and that's why I wanted to seo you. See here, Mead.” Mead, who was opening a bottle of the blue-seal port—an operation which he always conducted with his own hands—listened while French poured into his attentive ears the tale of his woes, “The blackguards!” said the old man when French had finished. “And do you mean to say you've gone oft and left the horse behind you for these chaps to maim? Maybe"”—— “Oh, Moriarty 1s there,” replied French, “He's sleeping in the stable, and Andy is sleeping in the loft, But it's on my mind that some dirty trick will be played before we get the colt to England, and that's why I've called to see you, Look here; you've got that place for your polo ponies down in Sligo. Will you let me take Garry- over there and finish his train- You mean my place at Bally- hinton?" Ye “Su T've sold it Didn't you know “Bold it!" “Eight months ag “Good heavens!” 4 French, “That does me, And I've come ali the way to Dublin to see you about it. Was there ever such luck?” “You ace,” said Mead, “I'm not as young as I was, Bryan—the chap I had there—was swindling me right and left, #0 I sold off, lock, stock and barrel. ‘I'm sorry.” Faith, and so am I,” said French. He took leave of Mead and returned to the Shelbourne Hotel on foot, The rain had ceased, and as he drew near the hotel the sun broke through the clouds. As he entered the hotel he ran al- most into the arms of a young man dressed in a fawn colored overcoat, who, with his hat on the back of his head, was standing in the hall, cigarette between hia lips and a matehbox in his hand. “l beg your pardon,” sald Mr. French; then, starting back, “Why, @ure to goodnens, if it isn't Mr, Dash- wood!" “Come said Mr. shaken hands. into the smoking-room,” Dashwood when they had “This is luck. T only came over by the morning boat. I'm coming down west. Ob, I'll tell you all about it in a minvut Come on into the smoking-room and have @ drink.” Mr, Dashwood seemed tn the high- est of good spirits, He led the wa into the smoking-room, rang the bell ordered two whiskies and an Apolll naris and cigars, chaffed the Hibern fan waiter, who was a “characte: and then, comfortably seated, began with French, Here's luck!” said Mr, Dashwood. “Luck! responded French, taking a sip of his drink. “This 18 the first drink I said Mr, Dashwood as seedy as an owl, It was ar fully rough crossing, but I ¢ touch anything, I teil you wha Frenen, since | aw you last I've bee ’ going it hard, but I've pulled up, You see,” said Mr, Dashwood, “ not @ drinking man, and when a fellow of that sort goes on the Jag, he makes worse jag of “And if you start to try to match one of said French, those chaps, it's like matching your- self against a rum barrel. at drove you to it?” “A&A woman,” said Mr. Dashwood. Mr. French laughed. “Two women, I should say. I got tangled up with a woman.” i tried to cut the knot ‘Well, you're way, and tell us about it.” “I's this way,” said Mr, Dashwood. “A year ago 1 met a Miss Hitchin, She was one of those red-haired girle who wear green gowns, don’t you know? and go in for things—Her- bert Spencer and all that sort of etuff, don't you know? I met her at a show 4 Johnny took me to for fun, a kind of literary club business. ‘Then, next day, | met her again by accident in the Park, and we walked round the Serpentine, You see, I'd ever met a woman like that before She lived in rooms by herself, iki 4 man, and she had a latchk “I wasn't in love with her," con- tinued the ingenuous Mr. Dashwoo “but, somehow or another, before I'd known her ten days | was engaged to her. Awfully funny business. You see, she had a lot of mind of her own, and I admire intellect in 4 woman, and she was a right good sort. I told her all about my life, and she wanted me to lead a higher one, Said she never could marry me unless I did. ‘The strange thing about her was she always made me feel as if | was in & Sunday school, though she wasn't pious in the lea She was a@ Socialist,’ Mr, Dashwood stopped. “Then L met another girl,” he went on, “That put me in @ beastly posi- ton, and the long and short of it is I went on the ragzzie-dazzle from the botheration of it all. Miss H, found out, and she cut the knot hetaelf. I'm glad I'm free,” finished Mr. wood, “but I wish it had happened some other way. in fact, I wish I'd never met Miss H, at all.” “And who is the other girl?” asked Mr. French. ‘Miss Grimshaw. And that’s the reason I'm going down west, I want to see her and tell her all.” French whistled; then he laughed. “You seem in mighty good spirita over her," said he, “How do you know she'll have anything to do with you? Have you asked her?" “Asked her! No. How could I, when I was tied up like that? That's what drove me off my balance, Byt I'm going to ask her, and that's why I've come over to Ireland.” “Look here,” sald Mr, French. id stay at Drumgoole, on Jition." hat's that "That you don't ask her, First of all, you haven't known her long enough; and she hasn't known you long enough to find out whether you are properly matched. Second, I'm not so sure that I'm not going to ask her myself.” “T bee your pardon,” said Mr. Dashwood. ‘Oh, you needn't beg my pardon. I'm just telling you what's in my mind, I'm #0 molthered with one thing and another I've no heart for anything at present ut Just this horse I told you about, you remem- ber—Garryowen, And I'm not a man to stand between two young people if their minds are set on each other. Rut the question is, Are they? You care for her, but does she care for So take an open field and no or. Come right to Drumgoole, No proposing, mind you, or any of that rubbish. I'm giving you your chance folr and square, and I'm telling you for and square it's In my mind that | moy ask her myself, So there you re, Take the offer or leave it. Mr, Dashwood paused for a moment before this astonishing proposition, which upset all his preconcelved ideas of love affairn; then the straightness and strangeness and sense of It went to his heart, Surely never had a man a more generous rival than thia, and the sporting nature and the hu- mor of it completed the business, and he held out his hand, “Right,” said he. “Another man would have acted differently, Yes, lb come, And I'll play the game; get to know her better, and then, why, if ‘on for me it's the fortune of Yh ‘That's it,” aald French; “and now I want to tell you about the horse.” He gave the full history of his pre- dicament, of the league and the money worries, and the enemies who seemed bent on destroying his chance of success, “If 1 could only get th horse out the country,” aid French, “But I can't.” “Can't you?" said Bobby, who followed the tale with sparkling ¢ and rising color, “Who says you can't? | say you can and I'll show you how.” He rose up and paced the floor, “Don't speak to me, This is aimply frabjous! Why, my dear chap, I've got just what yon want,” “What's that “A place where you can train half a dozen horses if you want to.” “Where?” “Where? Why, down at Crownact in Sussex, It's not my place; it be- ‘s'matter of fact, to Emmanuel "lend me it. Hi now constructing 4 big-game expedl- tion, and they start in a few days saw him only the day before yester- day at White's. Lucky, ain't it, that 1 thought of it? I'll wire to him now asking for the permit. The place is furnished all right; there's a taker in it. It's @ bungalow with no * end of fine stables. The Martens ta the name of it.” “Redad,” said Mr. French, "this is like Providence!” “Isn't it? You hold on here and I'l! wend the wire. I'll send it to his chambers in Albany and we'll ha the reply back to-night or to-morrow morning.” When the wire was despatched Mr. French proposed an adjournment to the Kildare Street Club, whither, ac- cordingly, their way. “If,” sald he, ‘we can pull this busl- ness off I'll never forget it to you. You don't know what this means to me. It's not the money so much— though that's od deal—but it's the outwitting and getting the better of those scoundrels, Dick Giveen and the rest of th Even if your friend agrees to lend us thia place, all our 1 want to get away without any one I'm taking him to, e Moriarty and Andy ve EMe behind, for if troubles aren't ended. the horse to write to her, and they open the letters at the pos! office in Cloyne, and even if they didn’t open them they'd #ee the poat- marks, I mustn't leave a clue behind me to tell where I'm gone to, and with that beast of a Giveen nosing about like @ rat it'll be difficult rather; but we'll do it!" “Yes,” said Mr, Dashwood, “we'll do it. The excitement of the business filled him with pleasurable anticipa~ tion; and he had not reckoned on Kinmanuel Mbbetson in vain, for when they got back to the Shelbourne in the evening they found a wire from that gentleman. It only contained three words: “Yea, with pleasure.” With this telegram there was an- other. It was from Miss Grimshaw, and it ran: "Come back at once.” . CHAPTER IV, HE day Mr, French left Drumgoole on his visit to Dublin it had rained, | When Mr, French depart- ed for the station Miss Grimshaw, having watched him drive away, the two gentlemen took ' her information. "And ould Mra, Mor. Black Larry would try that night. jhwood's eyes sparkled as hy “What are you going to def” he asked. “Catoh him if I can,” said French. “There mustn't be any shooting. I jt any police business, for u Ta be held as a witness at the apeizes, But if I catch him I'll give nih y ax me rispicts, an’ tell her what you' tould me, and maybe she won't for- get you for your throuble.’” x said Miss Grim- shaw, taking her purse from her pocket and half a crown from her pur iso took @ sixpence, and, wiving the child the sixpenc 1 showed her the half crown, “L will give you that,” eald she, “next Friday if what you have told moe is true, and if you say notht: about this to any one else, Tell ol Mrs. Mortarty I will call and eee and thank her very much for send! you, Now, mind of this to any the half-crown.’ Susie Gallagher, whose mouth had flown open wide at the sight of the haif-crown, closed it again. “Plaze, mias, is the whole half- ‘him something to remember 'to- by, and let him go.” “You'll let me help?” aaid 5 0 the news “Yes,” said Miss Grimshaw. “I told old Mrs, Mortarty—you remember that day you took me to see her?— well, I told her to let me know if she heard of any mischief, I ‘guess she kept her ears open, for I gave her a shilling and promised her five if she got any information. You'll have OU Bay & wi 6 else you won't get crown for me?” that.” Ff Yes, if you don't say @ word. French ‘Gentes: A $ “Not a word, mise; sure, I'd bite me ‘Ever Ince §=you' entered the tongue off before I'd let At be tellin’ a house,” said he, “you've been patting things straight, and saving us from ourselves,” “And now,” said Mise Grimshaw, 'm going to bed and to leaye you ‘And go on keeping your ears pen.” said Miss Grimahaw, “and let, ¢ know if you hear anything more. “You, miss. “That'll do,” said Mies Grimshe and Susie Gallagher departed run- and « jump an out ning, taking & hop, ekt now and then, presumably let for her emotions, Violet went at ence in search of Moriarty. “Moriarty,” said Miss Grimaha’ when she found him in the stable yard, "L want to ppeak to you" “Yea, mise," said Moriarty, etepping up to her, “T have just had some very serious news about the horses, I had better @peak to you about it in the Hbrary. Come in there, She led the way into the house. When they were in the Mbrary ehe shut the door and told him ail, “Divil mend them!" said Moriarty, who seemed much perturbed. “Do you think there is any truth er m4 do, mise, and what's botherin’ me is the master bein’ away.” two to your pipes. T suppose will eit up to catch this person “We will,” said French, 188 GRIMSHAW'S room was situated at the back of the house, overlooking the kitoh- en garden. Any sound from it, and she determined to lie awake and listen. Mortarty's description of the expected desperado, “over sx fut and as black as a flue-brush,” seemed to, women, she had @ horror of fighting, and, ike most women, fighting had a fascination for her. Bhe had no of the result. Mr. French, Mr, helper, CHAPTER V. M the astable-yard would reach Promise developments. Like most wood, Moriarty, and the stable “He's 60: me a Maes ay not to mention Andy, formed a com- “Yes, miss. ey'll only bination bad t their hands till Thuraday, Not that I sage How 10 beat, even against ; ind tacklin’ them alone, but it there’ any shootin’ to be done I'd sooner the master was on the prim- “Oh, but—you won't shoot them!” “Shoot them, migs! th, if catch them at their games, I'll shoot them firat and bile them afther, To- day's Monday—are you sure it wae Thuraday ebe sald, mine?” All the same, there was @ certain heart-catching excitement t business not altogether un: and never did the atlence of the I old house seem more fre! voices of the past, never the of the huge old clock on the outside seem more pronoun Just now as, lying In with a bared uring on the table by her side M ty ruminated, in of Tarascon” 0} aera ary, you said it was, mise, hand, she listened. won Te that was comin’?” Miss Grimshaw paused in her read- at wal “Then he's to come single- 1d, He always does hia Jobi he's nover been cotched thering itself up for the business striking with a deep humming began to strike. It struck twel at the last lelsurely and sledge-ham- mer stroke resumed its montonous Ucking ‘8 he a dangerous man?” “He's not a man, miss, he’ six fut two and as black brush. He was gamekeoper ® fhe . 0 @ 0° 4 masther, and the maasther turn ® Mise Grimshaw awoke. Oh oft for bad conduc,’ and he's swore . 1° candle to be even with him.” had burned itself out, and a ray of early morning sunlight was peeping in through the blinds, She could hear a clanking sound—or it Imagination’ She rubbed her eyes, Yos, there it came again. The win- dow was half open, and the sound came from the kitchen garden below ~a metallic sound that had brokea through her sleep. She sprang out of bed, went to the window, pulled aside the curtains, and looked out, (To Be Continued.) ‘ “Of course,” said Miss Grimshaw, “1 might telegraph to Mr. French and bring him back, but he has gone on important business, and it would pity.” “I'm not afraid,” sald the girl “and if you think you can manage tll ‘Thursday by yourself tt would be bet- ter to do nothing. [ will send him a telogram on Wednesday to make sure of his returning on Thureday. “Yos, miss,” sald Morlert be the best way: comes before th Heaven help him oe + © © © © It was dark when tho train from Dublin drew in at the station of Cloyne on Thursday, and Mr, French found the outside chr waiting for them in charge of Buck Slane. Buck was @ helper in the stable, a y-looking Individual in leggings. ha high, piping voice, red-rimmed eyes and an apologetic manner. When Buck spoke to you on any sub- Jeet, he seemed to ge apologizing for masther is back GOING AWAY FOR’ THE SUMMER? Remember The Eve- complete up-to-date novela week’s reading! Have The Bve- ning World sent to your sun mer address. os ke strolled down the garden, then It, as though it were something that through & little wicket she passed lad to be mentioned or apoken,sbout most certair. the business