The evening world. Newspaper, October 22, 1921, Page 16

4 THE EVENING WORLD’S FICTION SECTION, SATURDAY, OCTOBER 22. 1921, ——_——-—_—_—— “Let's go for a nice, long walk; shall wer It might bave been dimly, but Mell began to see that something was wrong, and all the old suspicions re- ¢urned. With a sudden air of resolution he turned to the grilled door that led to the basement, the key already in bis hand, “What are you going to do?” begged Molly, at his side in an instant. “I'm going in,” he sternly replied. One of her hands closed around his @rist, and the other raised to her lus @ silver whistle that hung on the end of the Pom’s leash. But before sho eould blow it, Mell ran his free arm @round her elbows and pinned them DBeipless against her quivering body. “Look here,” he said as sternly as be- ore, “who's in this house?” “It—it'’s Dad,” she told him with a Broken little cry. @ HEN Aunt Agnes had written that she would arrive on the 4 o'clock train that day, Mell had e@veriooked the fact that owing to local @aylight-saving ordinances, clocks and @rains don’t always run together, Ac- e@ording to the watch in his pocket, it was only ten minutes past 3 when he @uddenly discovered that there was a burglar in his aunt’s house; but as a rather disturbing matter of fact, Aunt Agnes had caught an earlier train than ehe had expected and at that very ,» Moment she was in a taxi speeding along to her Park Avenue home, At first when Molly had told him who was in the house, Mell thought she had fainted, the life seemed to go out of the body which was still confined within his circling arm, He hastily unlocked the door and half led, half carried her Imside. ‘‘Now you sit here,” he said, guiding her to a chair near the win- dow, “and by the time I've found out what’s going on upstairs, perhaps you'll fee] better, and we'll be able to talk this thing over.” He went up to the floor above, but caught no sight of an intruder. Once he thought he heard a noise in the basement. “Molly, I guess.” Thinking that she was making her escape, he drew a bitter sigh and started for the floor above. “Old Bumblefoot, frst,” he mourned to himself, ‘and then Molly, the Yegg- man’s Beautiful Daughter—I’'m not very ijucky in love’—— The second floor, too, seemed empty; and after a cautious search Mel) start- ed up another fight. He was. nearly at the top of the stairs when a move- ment in the main hal] below caught his eye, over the banisters. Two floors below Molly had hold of the arm of a silk-hatted old gentleman and was urging him toward the front door. “I'm going to get a look at that old boy,” muttered Mell, as he skimmed down the stairs, The carpet was thick and apparently neither Molly nor her father heard him coming. As Mell approached them from behind, the old gentleman wag busy with the lock of the front door, and was evidently hay- ing trouble with it. ‘ « “I wonder why they don’t go down through the basement,” thought Mell. From outside came the noise of a taxi briskly moving away, and firm, ascend- tng footsteps were heard on the base: @ent stairs, “For Heaven's sake!” muttered Mell @s the basement door swung open— *it’s Aunt Agnes!” By that time he had reachea Molly's side and gave a quick glance at her father, who had spun around at the sound of the opening door. Mell caught a glimpse of a mahégany cane with a gold handle, dove-colored spats and a neat gray beard, but the next moment his aunt’s words claimed a!) his atten- tion, ‘ “So this is Molly!” said Aunt Agnes ery" — Then, she turned to the gray-bearded old gentleman near the door. “This is Molly's father,” said Mell, hurriedly. “Mr. Ingestre, this is my sunt, Mrs. Van Ransallaer.” “Mr. Ingestre,” the gaze of repeated Aunt Ag- nes, with one who is APPARENTLY NEITHER MOLLY NOR HER FATHER HEARD MELL COMING. Molly gave a startled look,“ ber eyes wet with tears. “Don’t be frightened, child,” said Aunt Agnes kindly. She held out both hands and, drawing the astonished gir) to her, she kissed her. ; “There, there,” she said, gently pat- ting her shoulder, “I wish you wouldn't searching far back in the memory—"‘it isnt a common name, but surely you aren’t any relation to old Stuyvesant ingestre who insisted that each of his three sons should learn a trade?” “Stuyvesant Ingestre was father,” replied the old gentleman. “Then which are you--the black~ my smith? Or the tailor? Or—let me see— what was the other one?” “The other one was a locksmith," smiled Molly’s father with an utter disregard for grammar, “and that one’s me!" i ‘ OU must pe awfully mystified about Dad,” said Molly to Mell the next evening, “and yet it’s simple enough to explain.” Molly and her father were visiting Twin Gables as the guests of Aunt Agnes, and after dinner Molly And Meij had set out for a stroll. “From the things I have heard,” she continued, “grandfather must have been an eccentric old gentleman—and Dad's a little bit that way, too, When he had learned his trade he made up his mind that he was going to invent a lock that simply couldn't be opened without the proper key. “He spent a frightful lot of money in experimenting with different kinds of locks—and finally he thought he had it. He called his new lock the Penguin and a big factory was built to make them, “He had to borrow money to start his factory, but the lock was a tremendous success, About a year ago, though, a group of his partners forced him out of the company and it nearly broke his heart “They didn’t know that he had found a way to pick the Penguin. He had a little bunch~of adjustable master keys tat would open any Penguin lock that had ever been made and—— “Of course he couldn't trust his ad- Justable keys to anybody else, so he simply began undoing Penguin locks wherever he saw them. Even if he had been arrested, I don’t think he would have cared much, because it would have given publicity to the fact that he wanted everybody to know. Any- how, owners began to complain that the lock wasn’t any good as a protec- tion, and it wasn’t long before the news spread and sales foll off enormously. “Dad still had a few warm friends in’the company and yesterday, just be- fore ye left New York, he had a visit trom two of them. The other partners are willing to sell out now for anything they oan get, and his friends want Dad to go back and take contro! and re organize the company.” “He certainly is a wonder,” said Mell, laughing, “but then I might have known that he was"—— \ “Why?” she asked, innocently enough. “Because he has such a wonderful laughter.” : They walked along then for a time in silence, and somehow their hands met—and somehow, too, they failed to part again. Presently they came to a bench that overlooked the river, and they sat down, “There’s one thing, though, that 1 can’t understand,” said Molly at last. “How did your aunt happen to recog- nize me when she caught us in her house yesterday afternoon?” “It's a long story,” he said, ‘‘and—J have another story that I want to tell you first’— Perhhps she caught the meaning in bis voice. At any rate she looked at him with such a glance of tender inquiry that partly in silence and partly in tremulous speech, he told her the other story—that old, sweet story which can never die. . . THE END. Oopyright—All rights reserved. Printed by arrangement with Metropolitan Newspaper Service, New York NEXT SATURDAY’S COMPLETE STORY THE GIRL WHO TOOK THE BUIIPS By LAWRENCE PERRY Ilksstrated by C. D. BATCHELOR and WLI B. JOHNSTONE : The Tale of a Movie Heroine and a Real Love—What Happened on This Location Was Not in the “Continuity”’—Atmosphere, Action, Thrills ORDER YOUR EVENING WORLD IN ADVANCE