The evening world. Newspaper, August 11, 1915, Page 13

TITER ' Sn et eye HENNORONNN MONLOELODOON POHOOOOLON Sinister Islan -~== The Romance of a New Yorker's == Adventures in Queer Company , By Charles Wadsworth Camp if i KREREMRRR AR HARAERAKIOR HANA RTT KH AAA A RTT NG (Copyright, 1915, by Dodd, Mead & Co.) BYNOPSIS OF PRECEDING OMAPTPRS, he South ns, i. rr Cirious fess “Rte, “wteat througout’ thet recioe fear Hout the ke dee, ries, orate lor meets, ia fascinated by the daughter of a Northerner there, M The mai ite are gone when Miller seeks to joint them out to the Coruner, ‘ CHAPTER V. (Continued,) The Coroner From Sandport. HERD are a lot of uncivil- ized oystermen working the banks to the north of the island,” he said, “You Know «or ought to—better than L” “Who are you,” the other burst out, “to say who's civilized and ain't? What's more, if you think you're fit- ter to run my job than I am just say all the good itll do “Hold on,” Morgan put in quietly. “If Mr. Miller is suspicious of any point he is perfectly within his rights to insist upon its thorough investi- nd do you know, Mr. Coroner, he asked, “anything about the fisner- man anchored in the inlet? You must have seen his boat from the shore as we came here.” es, | saw his boat “You may not understand,” Morgan eaid. “That fisherman is a very un- @atisfactory figure. He has puzzied us a good deal The coroner's wrath overflowed bounds, none too strong, Miller di cided, at the best. “If you want trouble and investiga- tions I can give you plenty of both. I can make it so damned uncomfort- able that you'll never get your spunk Jup again to Interfering with an of- ‘ficer of the law that's doing his duty as he sees it. Uncivilized! And a poor fisherman can't anchor his boat near your rotten island without getting eneered at by you two! And what's it all about?—some marks on the wrists you thought you seen, What if you did? He probably got them @hreshing about in the palmetto. That man died of snake bite. Do you want this permit, or shall I tear it up? I Ought to do it.” ier reached out his hand and took the permit. He had been beaten. There was nothing more he could do ‘with the coroner. Yet the man's ex- lanation of the cause of those marks far short of satisfying him. In de: fell fact, as he walked down the path, he d at the rusty shoulders with a growing uneasiness. He wondered if the coroner hadn't brought into the mystery one more disturbing elemen:. CHAPTER VI. The Grave in the Shadows. HEN they reached the clear- ing in front of tho coquina house the coroner, who had accomplished the journey in silence, promulgated his order. Miller guessed it was that which had so affected Molly. “I forgot to tell you,” the coroner said, “the law's clear, The burial \must take place by sundown.” “To-day!” Miller cried. What do you think?” Wait a minute,” Miller said, “I don't believe there's any clergyman in Sandport. Is there?” he coroner snickered. We're mostly peaceful fishermen over there. Don't need such things. Now and then on a Sunday night a oung preacher drops down from But this isn't Sunday,” Miller said, you want one for the ceremony,” the coroner answered brutally, "there ain't a chance. You'll have to get along without. Well, jong. I'm glad I'm getting away from this place, Family didn’t want me to come at all, but they don’t nderstand the law.” viialt way across the clearing he demand for silence, for he knew Molly must hear, Ki "BY ndown, and don't you for- at" fils lanky form was swallowed by the underbrush bordering the path to the river end of the island, What do you think of him?” Miller ked Morgan. Morgan shook his “Strange,” he said, i (0 into those marks, fF fo. ynen 1 first told him of them, » didn’t egre iller answered, “he didn't show the Blightest curiosity. You're right. It Ke. was 8 The coroner's mandate added to the difficulty of their situation. iller glanced toward the house, “She's in there. Why in heaven's name did Anders ave to be away at this one time He looked up. “Of course all Sandport knew he ad left yesterda: » tome,” Morgen sald. “It won't do fanciful, although I must gay the coroner hmpressed me dis- agrecably enough, Yet we must re- on the necessary arrango- Bandport for the local undertake Tony and the man, when he had come back, dug the grave on the edge ‘of the cleaging by the coquina house. There was really little choice—the on spaces on the island were so few, hen remained the difficult task of waiting for Anderson, and-hardest of all—the responsibility for Molly, At la st Miller gathered his courage entered the house. “Molly!” he called from the sombre | first she did not answer and a eat fear grasped his throat. 1 say, Molly!" he faltered. ‘yes, Jim,” her voice came from } head of the stairs. ‘Don't wor- . Wut up there!” he said, “Isn't It \dfully depressing up there?" hot cheerful, Jim, but would any fer place be more so to-day? I aused and turned back, Calling out. Ritter raised his hand in an angry as afraid to come last there was so little time they its. Morgan sent his man to know what you've been doing. I want to stay up here.” Perhaps it was best to humor her. Worn out by her night of watching, ; she might find rest. Miller walked to the veranda. Mor- gan and he sat there, talking in low tones, Tony and Morgan's man wan- dered about the clearing, restless, if expectant of something unforeseen. Morgan went home at_ luncheon time and took his man. Miller had no appetite. Moreover, he felt it his duty to remain where he was. He lied Tony to him. During the morning the native had grown m mentarily more morose, more ne: vous. Miller directed him to return to the Dart, get his luncheon, and remain there afterward until he hailed him, Morgan was back long before An- derson had put in an appearance. In fact it was late in the afetrnoon when Anderson walked into the clearin from the direction of Sandport. soon as he saw him Miller real! ed they would be spared the pain of an- nouncing the catastrophe. Anderson knew, His eyes were red He looked tired. Thoughts of the island and fears that harm might spring there during his absence upon those he loved had clearly held hin | awake last night. Miller and Morgan hurried to meet him, They pressed his hand. “You needn't bother,” Anderson sald a colorless voice. ‘ve heard of erything. It's all they're talking about in Sandport. The boy w! rowed mo across the river couldn't think of anything else. It's horrible} —and Molly here alone, unless one of you stayed. | “I was with her,” Miller answered. “I thought you would be. I was afraid, I shouldn't have gone. J| didn’t want to go. And that one night} —the only time I've been away—it had to strike.” He paused. He looked across the water, which no longer sparkle Thank God it wasn't Molly said softly, “or you, or Morgan.’ You know it might have been—very sily Mr. Miller and T are pretty capa- ble of taking care of ourselves, and of Mrs. Anderson, too,” Morgan put in with an attempt at a laugh. The laugh, however, held no note of conviction, ‘und Miller noticed that Anderson's words had diminished a little the man’s ordinarily ruddy color. He did not wonder at this, for he, too, had reacted uncomfortably to the sing-song quality of Anderson's voice, to Its unquestioning assurance. Nev-| ertheless he nodded in support of Morgan's reply. No other answer ov- curred to him. Anderson straightened his shoul- Yates suf- rs. “I must go to Molly,” sa scarcely dare think what she fered. He led the way to the house. When they reached the steps Morgan sat down, but Miller, after a moment's hesitation, followed Anderson into the hall. He did not care to force himself at such a moment on his friend, yet he had said nothing comforting, nothing strengthening. His own temporary weakness reminded him how much comfort and = strength Anderson needed The character of night had already invaded the hall of the coquina house. Miller spoke with an effort. “Morgan and I have been talking things over,” he said. “We've de- cided we can't afford to let imagina- tion run away with us, We've gone over the—the aceldent pretty tnor- oughly. There's really nothing to stimulate imagination there." Anderson turned and stared at him Miller’ went on. T feel for you and Molly, but there's nothing out of the simple accident. All those It might have been ex- Anderson said bitterly, “it might have been expected, The worst of it is, it was, I expected it. So did Jake, It's been in the air, I the feeling of the place. In the a Jim! We'd bad our warning. “Don't tell me, Andy, you seriously suspect any connection between the you've had here and this ac- you that,” Anderson said fiercely. 3 I've said all along, it's the feeling of the place. And you call them fancies! Prove it. That's what we're begging of you, Jim “Certainly Til prove it." Miller said, ‘The bite of a poisonous snake needs no proof. What can be mys- terious in that?" But, as if in answer to his ques tion, the marks he had noticed on Jake's wrists came back to his mind “As a matter of fact.” he said, “some abrasions I thought I de- tected on Jake's wrists offer the only mystery to me.” What do you mean? What kind of abrasions?” Anderson asked in- differently. “I can't describe them very well. When | first noticed them it was nearly dark, They were not pro- Then this morning they leally disappeared. Anderson grew rigid. “Listen!” he said softly, » was a stealthy movement at the head of the stairs. For an in- stant Miller questioned If {t was one of the manifestations of the coquina house, Then he remembered how long Molly had waited, how impa- ent she mu have grown, It's Molly,” he whispered Molly's voice came to them, An- derson relaxed, Thank heavy u're/ home. Is that Jim with you? "Yes," Anderson said. “I'm com- ing up, Molly, right away.” ‘They heard her sigh she went back to her room, Miller reverted to the ot Jake's wrists. “Have you,” he asked Anderson, “ever seen that coronér at Sandport””" Anderson started. Miller knew the man's mind had failed to return to the phase he had described. “What, Jim? Oh} ‘The coroner, Of course he came J Stop listening.” Miller said, “It was only Molly before.” “But it's already quite dark in here, Anderson answered, “Soon it will be night, I'm sorry, Jim. What were you saying? You asked me some- thing about the coroner.” ‘Yes. I didn't like the fellow’s t or actions. I asked you if you' puzzle ne INVEST ALL YouR. MONEY IN STOCKS PIFFLE PREFERRED Is A SURE THING | beams. De ) wrist and j servants. ) "Aa L've told yo USE THIS WORTHLESS, INVEST ALL YOUR. MONEY IN LOGANBE RRY Slack (IT'S A SURE THING Pt | you 2 » BRIN SOME WRAPPING PAPER ~ fa), All at once his eyes be- came stationary him something moving on the other side of the clearing, just within the entrance of tho path to the shore. was something of facing an elusive but unavoidable you coming with me, or do you prefer Curiously this complete surren- the neighborhood of that sphinx” Tony glanced longingly at the re-- This afternoon,” Anderson replied. Sandport—a long, He spoke to me. he was the coroner.” “What else did he say?” The recollection of the Interview ap- peared to stimulate vague air of a victim facing an irre- sistible fatality lett him. At the wharf in cheered Miller, He found ‘t possible 0," Miller sald b “I won't be gone long enough to make tt worth while. If you went back to the boat tt would ce to get you. Better come “Forget the spooks and avold the Tony, and you'll be all right,’ Tony turned away unconvinced, Mil- hen he had gone to ti ning to the whispers of the tide, recalled those other whispers he had fancied in the forest last night, recalled also the whispered conviction of Jake that death was waiting on the island for them At last he slept, and the next morn- Ing was so brilliant it was Impossible 1 most wholly hidden by the trees. For the moment Miller's mind was pt from the service which Morgan reading slowly, almost inaudibly now, for it came to him that the half- thing in white, flitting among the trees was the elfin girl. He turned inland, Tony, after a and lay list he had entered the by the news of Jak lorful, expressive. e's a fool—a pompous, cowardly He warned me we had to bury It was pretty bru- tal, coming on top of what I'd just I lost my temper—asked him, he was #0 particular, why he didn’t run over to see to it himself. Jim, the man turned white. was nothing could back to the island that late in the day—might be dark before he could get across the river again. threatened trouble if it wasn't done. Pompous and a coward—like all these natives, except that unholy fisher- fearing, crushed e's death, his voice lowed quickly. Before entering looked back ‘The grim figure had not Miller almost doubted the Jake before night. Miller glanced at Morgan. ete MHRS RAG with the prayerbook had dropped, An expression of pain had passive sorrow from Morgan's ed across the murky clearing. At last his eyes went back ti e resumed his read- CHAPTER VIII. The Cirele and the Wrists the dunes anxiously for of the girl who had become for him the real and peremptory my: the book, and hy middie of the afternoon he elded to his overpowering curiosity and directed Tony to row him ashore. They landed at the same point, @ the fisherman's anchor- ILLER followed the narrow ne the shadowa— that tunnel-like path whose first Invasion had led to the discovery of Jake's body. He because in spite of himself he was anxious to get through. Tony followed at his heels, breathing before and it trembled. the forest again. The girl was still there, but she appeared to be off the path and moving through the underbrush which he would have sworn was tm- penetrable. He told himself that some turn of the path or the failing light created this Husion, vince himself he had morning on the beach when he had felt the soft flesh of her arms yield beneath his grasp. again she was gone. CHAPTER VII. The Grim Fisherman. RWARDS they gathered In the living-room little below “I probably shan't be very long,” “It's scarcely you to row back.” ‘Tony's face clouded away und lay on bis oat Miller went “Pompous and a coward!" Miller walked rapidly, repeated thoughtfully. “I guess you're i couldn't interest him in the wrists, and tt made me wonder, but I guess you're right. afraid and in a hurry to get away. Probably that was all. trying, Andy, to pin a physical fact to an unhealthy fancy. The spirits didn't worth while In order to con- He was only to the coquina house as he had agreed with Anderson. had intended to remain for only a few moments, but continually they urged him to stay a little longer, and the morning had been more dif- ficult than they had anticipated, so he remained with them unt!l, glanc- ing at his watch, he was surprised to find it past 5 of It was all familiar enough until they came to the disturbed whore Jake had been found glanced at the trampled palmettos with a sense of discomfort and in- creased his pace a little. look anxiously for the first sign of the Anyway, stop undergrowth n he looked Anderson went upstairs, shaking his head. He came down very soon with He began to “T can't thank you for what you did last night,” Anderson said. why did I ho You couldn't The character of the path did not alter unti! they saw that firet out- post—the Jagged, gray wall of a col- building, After a there were more of thease the outlines of one or two 0 be away?” be away I'm comirg pond the night f you will I don't see any use In walt- That broad view L was kolng to get from the Dart has failed Everything that has hap- ed has been at cloxe range U's at close range here, Jim “At close range, yet im- Come ahead Miller found Tony still resting on his beckoned. ‘Tony, ed at seeing him again, Morgan, before leav- ing, urged Molly and Anderson to re- turn to the plantation with him at Andy—except cure of Molly. ' There was nothing else any of us could de." “Taking care of Jake in that plece of woods!” Anderson whispered. “Oh, that was @ good deal, Jim—a good panod that t the remains of the old slave The path turned between two of the walls into a long avenue, lined with live oaks, which led to the rear of the plantation house. Miller stepped through, and, breath- ing more freely, looked around him, The crumbling either side in a wide semicircle whose ends had been swallowed by the hun- Only two or three but they preferred for the present to remain alone where thoy derson said. They went outside, posstbly far, longer any exceuse for delay. limit of time appointed by the Coro~ ner wae at hand, It would soon be There was no oars off shore. evidently rel rowed quickly In “I'm going to walk to the planta- It may be nearly dark be Perhaps your tem- Anderson explained. Morgan left. dark. Molly whispered something to derson, who shook his head. “T haven't the courage,” he said, She turned to Miler, holding out ¢ pocket prayer-bok, “There's no plained simply. Miller suggested od, possessed roofs: the romartic wanted to stop and wignificant survivals of ymmunity—these prisons these torture chamber had been handed down about Noyer But ho resisted. “Molly and L must fight Come with me.” ony shook his head. vot in that woods again!" “Nonsense, Tony clergyman,” “It's too brutal with- what Jim sald la leared his throat “I'm searcely fit, but if no one else if half that t's the turning point,” rather rout out that fisherman for She sighed, “If we can't rise above this She looked at Mor- She held the book out to him, tentatively, appe Morgan stepped forward. the book, opened it and fumbled with he had found at the filthy tub nent he had li this better alone, so for a day or two, Jim— ‘There's ho use in must be hurried. So he told ‘Tony to for him in the avenue erhaps you'll find one of the ser- vants to ehat with," he sald. Hut, as he hurried down the avenue and around the house to the pillared veranda, he saw no servants himself. Ho stood by the rail, outlined Against the sky and the Hoots, selled jeans and @ blue shirt, open at the throat, clothed his great Miller received an sion of steadfast, unreasoning power. For 4 moment forgetful of Anderson's his hand to his pages until Miller nodded him to the clearing Anderson followed will make you feel better,” he said in a low voice. “Oh, thank you," she whispered. Morgan walked to the grave, o' gnarled branches of two he said as he Miller's hand, “Lf hope we'll him warmly. He led him i fortable Itbrary which 0 can be after this you'll find us livable, High canes black-bound volumes cireled the room. Miller glanced at them Interestedly Kk as though they might have original Ubrary collected by mouth and shouted, others gathered near him. “Hal-loo over there!" ,oout to set. The coquina house threw a heavy shadow over the little and across turned earth and the yawning, ex- “Hall me if you want me,” Miller In for just a min- The eyes, fixed on the shore line, r sure you're all right.” Miller called again He hurried to the shore and called Ie turned angrily 4gain he shouted. Morgan an- awered, “It's all old before the war mostly government reports, dry valueless, One of my brothers, who is vomething of a boa run through them. ing the dot by the bale for kindling. By the way, I hope you'll sta: ugh to meet my brothers, As Morgan commenced to read the sonorous and memorable words the sun disappeared and dusk entered the island greedily. who was standing next to Morgan, let his eyes wander about the gloomy setting for this which bad involved them so unea- Mo: It was good to get hack to the Dart again and to his lonely meal in her familiar and comfortable cabin, he found changes on Tony's face was paler than ever and ared larger and wider. ‘I've half a mind to row out and What do you make of ‘Tony gave it up. Island,” he said. Millor decided, “we'll ‘son bo had the alr try to find out what it 1s, Now, are 1 advised sell- his eyes ap, To-morrow,’ The Evening World Daily Magazine, Wednesday, August 11; 1915 ! RG RMR immolated themactves once or twice by leaving real winter resorts to v’ it me. 1 hope they'll be here over this coming Sunday on their way north. You might enjoy them.” He rang a bell. In a few minutes a man servant entered, bearing a tray with cigars and bottles. Morgan made a good deal of a ceremony of the re- freshinents, Half an hour or more had passed before he arose to con- duct his guest through the house. During that time, as though by mu- tual consent, ne he nor Miller had mentioned Jake. Evidently every one on the island agreed with Miller that it was essential the tragedy Id not be brooded upon by minds already sufficiently troubled. Miller found the Interior of the plantation house more fascinating than that first view had prophesied. The rooms were low-ceilinged but large. The woodwork was rough hewn, Old fashioned furniture clut- tered the floors. The clothing of the two men was all that brought the mind back from the days of Noyer to the present. last Morgan led Miller up @ steep ladder to the cupola he had no- ticed from the wate: Here, in the small, square, unfin- ished room, Morgan pointed out rusty iron staples driven into the oak nding from them were « irons, Overhead was a row of empty books. “For thongs and lashes," Morgan explained. “It seems Noyer was a discipiinarian, ‘This cheerful apart- ment was designed for the house In one of the barns there is @ far more elaborate cutilt, evi- dently for the field hands.” “Romantic!” Miller said, “'Searcely ‘pleasant, but by Jove, the whole » is romantic.” “And what else you've had a chance to seo,” Morgan answered quietly. . I pride myself on resistance, but the island does m to give out an alr. How would cribe tt?—Baneful! You've on how superstition fattens on it. ‘that shouldn't be, but I'm fighting it all the time, not only with my ser vants. My brothers even, when they're her ‘The proper moment had come. Mu- jler caught bis breath and plunged our daughter? Is she super stitious: Morgan turned. It was growing dark even in this high room, Miller could not read the other's face~could not be sure It confessed any emotion tronger than surprise. *\gorgan spoke with a Ittle dim. culty. His voice was hard. “My daughter! How have you~ What do you know of her?” Miller felt himself placed in the wrong. He was conaclous of the hot blood in his cheeks. er all, per- haps, he had been tactless, for Ander- n had told bim that the girl troubled r father, and he had seen sufficient evidence of that himself. “The Andersons,” hes: tloned that you had a daughter. His choice lay between that and an avowal of his encounter with the «irl, He did not care to surrender that memory of her secret. At the moment he found he couldn't. Morgan started down the ladder. "My daughter,” he sald coldly, “ts be judged ordinarily. She ts peculiar, She keep» a good deal to herself.” y descended to the brary In at- lence, Miller resented the constraint that had arisen between thom at tho mention of this girl in whom he felt so strong an interest, When he took his leave, however, Morgan resumed rdial tone, pretty dark," he said, “T yt realised it was ao late, You have had experience of that path. Perhaps you wouldn't find tt pleasant walking, particularly after your vigil of the other night, Let me run you out in my launeh.” Miller laughed a ttle, “No. [suppose [ should be glad i's dark, so [ can go through thoso woods grinning at the feeling with which they oppressed me the other night But, of course, that's non- sense. ‘The path's really all right. Resides my man is waiting for me around the house, and we have the dingy on the shore, I can't Incon- v » you and myself for atmos- “After all th the talk. But mind you don't fancy things in the come again.” 4. I want you t ‘When you've lunc! ladly, How about a “There's one in the T can manage that far. Ho started around the house “Good night," Morgan called after him. It was really night in the avenue, Miller walked cautiously to avold atumbling. He was disappointed more than he would have thought possible. Pri- marily he had come to see the girl. . Bhe had not appeared. He had mis- read the fancied obedience in her eyes. He paused and lighted his pipe. After the mateh expired it was darker than before. He had not realized it was 60 late. He smiled at the tho ht of Tony's terror of the dark- # In this place, But where was the n? A silght uneasiness drove the smile away, He called: ony!" He waited, istening. The night was very still His uneasiness increased. Perhaps, though, the native had gone back to the dingy, Yet, Miller felt, he would not have taken that path at dusk alone without some Irresistible rea- son, Ho went on. He knew he must be r the end of the avenue, that these ahead were the quarters, He wondered why the night was so still, ‘There should be insects, birds, antmals, but he heard nothing save the alight scuffiing of his feet among dead leaves. Abruptly he stopped, Miller was not easily startled, yet now his throat tightoned. mething was moving ahead—a blacker shadow tn the black shadow of a crumbling wall. It stepped out toward him, “Who's there?” he muttered, But now he guessed, and he was ex- ultant, She came to him quickly Her hand was on his arm, He heard her heavy breathing, ‘The girl was frightened, He fought back a quick impulse to put his arms around her, to draw her close, He knew it was unjustifiable. For a moment It was incomprehenstble to him, He stran- ailed it, Scientific Sprague FRANCIS LYNDE soc standards he knew. The logic of Treason no longer dovetaile pulse grew too strong. His arms around her. His lips tried to find hers, But he could not find her lips at first, 0 that way." sate to-night. “I told myself yw would see me," he said. “I awked you to see me,” “I have obeyed.” She caught her breath. “Listen—" “What is your name?" he asked. “This time you will tell me your name” “Listen!* she bean again. “Won't you tell me your same? She burst out impatiently: “Thay name for you.” She reached up. She pulled at the lapet of his coat, “Listen to me—* Again, as on the beach, a sense of al isolation set him beyond the The im- were She spoke burriedly with an odd catch tn her voice. “This is madness. You cannot éo that. “But Tecan,” he said defiantly. He drew her head back. Te iteaad her mouth, Without warnt; wes ng she re- “You have taken too much,” she said in a hard voice. “Now ‘ee “Yos," he answered, “I shall go. but tomorrow on the beach"*— He released her and walked toward the ruins. He was aware of noe a ne. Instead a stecly triumph filled his heart. He was for the mo- menf a man strange to himself. He bad reached the edge of the wn- derbrush when she caught hi Rrasned his arm. She wae crembttne, “No. FE nm now you must not go “Why? “Listen! ‘The night Is very stl, “You Why have I done thin? Ye It lowe “Don't say that. You must ni this way. Come back.” < “I shall go this way.” Her v Not ‘The woods are not “Not safe?” Sho whispered: bes. throats of the snakes—their are out.” h-what do you mean?” “I know,” she cried. “You shall not go this way to-night.” Suddenly he stiffened. A choked and horrtble ery arose from the path ahead of them—the cry of @ man in agony. It seemed to break into @ thousand sounds and fill the woods. She shrank back. Th she re- ch at his om covered and tried to ca Prog wy Be realtone, He threw r han plunged blindly down the path. He shouted: ij “Ton Ho heard her faintly, “Come back! Come back!” But he stumbled on in the direction of the cry. He could see nothing. Fe kept to the path by running, thrusting aside the branches and fronds that reached out to hold him back. At last he heard Tony's ing breath, The man was just He was running, too, but slowly, one who struggies from paralysing bonds of fear. “Tony! It was you! What—* The man staggered forward. Miller took his arm and hurried him. ' “Were you? Were you—?" But he scarcely dared fimeh the question, Perhaps Jake at first had run too. Perhaps Tony, as he ran, was aware of the pain of two tiny punctures, of the slow mounting of the poison, of the imminence of death on the island he had feared. The welght of his responstbility in w the man here againat hie will Miller, He forced the question out. “That place ts tun of snakes,” be aid, thickly, “Tell me"— He shook the man. “Tell me! Tell me!” Tony did not answer, Miller s cold fear that he could not. Tt was a long time before Tony spoke. When he did finally the words came with difficulty, disjointed, al- most untintelligible, “The avenue—something moved. It was dark—frightened—in the path—I got off” ——- “Yea. Yes.’ appened in the pa: “Don't know. I couldn't go on.” ‘he man's voice rose to a cry. neath move” —— “Nothing touched you? Nothing held you?" * Pee... iM sions, and T couldn't ve~-couldn't see. But I could hear, 1 heard the tle,” ied e Pains, wasplag for breath. r craw! 4 rattled twice.” atin hy wee yl How" — don’ now, t hi but shouted. I heard you coming? I could H move. T ran.” Miller let him go. He walked to boat and ientee the lantern, teyieate maself it was stark f held the man captive. eer Wake Tony pushed off, stepped took the oars. He rowed Levee The boat made slow progress, i Miller raised the jantern to examine the native's face, But his eyes di not reach the face. They were ar. vested by the Knotted hands on the oars, He was unwiNing to credit What he saw there. The manner of Jake's death on that same path came back and chilled hi 01 abrasions on Tony's wrists too, and the man could not tell how they had come there, He was sure only of this ~no one had touched him He dropped the oars. “I can't row, Mr, Miller, My wrists hurt.” He thrust his wrista in the salt water. He carried them to his face, Hoe pressed them against his eyem: All at once be commenced to sob, painfully, grossly. Lowering the lantern, Miller waited for this shocking breakdown to rack itself out. He could not doubt what ‘Tony's wrists had shown him, For the first time he surrendered to @ sense of insufficienc; nd, for the moment, of utter helplessness, (To Be Continued.) GOING AWAY FOR 4 VACATION? Remember The Evening World prints each week a complete up-to-date novel—a week's reading! Have The Eve ning World sent to your sum. mer address, ‘