The evening world. Newspaper, October 22, 1921, Page 13

= PO A747 aan = (- - 2 e | SSS, a "Fiction f "SECTION ’ SATURDAY, OCTOBER “7, 1921. |. THE FINGER OF FATE, By GEORGE WESTON Iiustrated by ARTHUR WILLIAM BROWN, and WILT B. JOHNSTONE A Tale of Mystery Concerning a Jilted Suitor, A Dozen Photographs. and.a Charming Girl flight—to get away from _ poses,” he thought, with the trace o have been her lx shiah we these stately mansions by grin, ‘But sipaian's a passdi ; atc lester nth @. aaron wane ae ye RAL a5 et the Hudson and Jose himself The photograph over the couch at of ribbon around it, igor fall vonnin lessl , ae pad lal wa oben eohihag a the great city below. which he was staring showed a quiet, hove been her studied pose for she ine i, at ig an ie weer “To look at me,” he thought, with a serious-eyed girl who was sianding by had none, : pp eee \ eeu iil had ae ‘oan, as he turned into the upper a table on which a pug-nosed Pomera- five atouHa vane! o's this? Does she eaches of Broadway, “one would never nian was perched, looking up at the FE was still Jooking at the p» “ey 08g wish I knew!” 7 hink that I had been wounded so.” girl with adoring eyes, It couldn't have ture, deep calling to deep, al- woman frowned hing 7 he dil tel nd indeed he was right. Except for been her dress that attracted Mell, for though he didn't know it when about three onthe: - eae is expression, which had something if was evidently a dark suit of the sim the brisk young mamaceress entered enough I didn’ oe. pane rage athetic in it, you would never have . ieee Cerone Nye ispected that he had just been dealt morta] thrust. “Marry you after this?” Margaret nad said to him. “Not if you were the ast man on earth!” Which wasn't ex- actly original, when all is said and fone, “We have absolutely noth{ne in joMmon,” she had continued, watch- ng him closely for winces; “you can't walk. You can’t ride, You can’t enter- tain. You can’t take a joke. You can’t dance’— He winced then. “I don’t believe that a clumsier man ever stepped out on a floor. ‘Old Bumble- foot,’ they call you"”--— , “It's a lie!’ he had growled, The KI Lis 0 ‘ bee t } A 1 4/8 first tdea had been hour to get those careless-lookins plest possible design -and it couldn't “We've taken the car,” she said. “How e've ear,” she said. next moment she had given him back his ring and Mell had left her with the face of a man who is hurrying out to self-destruction. “Don’t do anything rash!” she hod ealled after him, mockingly. . “J'd like to see myself!” he scoffed as he swung down Madison Avenue. In his resentment, Mell didn’t notice at his speedometer was trembling - ground “40,” nor did he see the three enormous trucks that were coming out ef the side-street, one closely follow- ing the other, like three friendly mas- todons going down to the river to ‘rink, “Good night! said Mell, as ! epped upon his brake. It was too late. Abead of him, the ree leviathang completely blocked e street. To the right was a lamp- ie and a photographer's shop, Mell od at the trucks and he looked at © post. s the lesser of two evils he chose post. S Mell's perceptions grew clearer, i f he became aware that his rest- ing place was a photographer's sing-room, and that bending over were a doctor and a businesailke ing woman, who wa evidently in urge of the shop. A narrow escape,” said the doctor, t seemed to Mell that the good phy- clan spoke almost W ith regret— ough this no doubt was imagination, r he was still light-headed. }iow's the car?” he asked in a iall faint voice, ‘A wreck,” said the doctor. “Would you like us to take a phoio aph of it?” eagerly inquired the ving woman. Mei] weakly nodded—in a way it was sort of repayment for her hospita!- and she and the doctor went out. Seems like a nightmare,” said Mel), no was feeling as though he would at if be tried to walk, “and I guess will be a nightmare, too, when Aunt sgnes hears about the car.”” His mind turning then to first causes, h¢ Ided: “Lucky 1 wasn't killed, or Mar iret would always have thought thai nad done it because she jilted me.” He drew a deep breath and looked uy, » the framed photographs that hung “AY LEAST VOU’LL LET ME SEE YOU AS FAR A8S YOUR DOOR,” BAID MELA. ‘tO, NO; YOU MUSTN'T i ew "i = > er ket pi sat af them COME—AND YOU MUSTN'T FOLLOW ME, OR I'LL NEVER SPEAK f0 YOU AGAIN!”