The evening world. Newspaper, March 25, 1922, Page 14

t- iS iv PACH he “OPbOode 2 THE EVENING —_—— @4-— —— ——— ¢ the Tefagwaph?” He lifted his eyes = “New that we are so near,” she seur- ijringly. mured; “I have got to tell you some- Rising of. Qer elbow, ibe- young wife bent forwdal toward the photograph. “Does it day that there,” she asked, @ovbdtfully. ow did you guess that?” 4n his role as chorus the ship's doc- @or exclaimed with enthusiasm: “Didnt 1 tell you? He's wonderful.” Ford cut bim off impatiently. “You never saw @ rail as high as that except around a race track,” he mottered. “Ang the badge in his buttonhole and the angle of the stand all show’’—— He interrupted himself to address the widow. “This is an owner's badge. What was the name of his stable?” “I don't know,” she answered. She regarded the young man with sudden uneasiness. “They only owned one horse, but I believe that gave them the privilege of’—~~- “T pee,” exclaimed Ford. “Your hus- band is a bookmaker. But in London he is a promoter of companies.” “So my friend tells me,” said Mrs. Ashton. “She's just got back from London. Her husband told her that Harry, my husband, was always at the American bar in the Cecil or at the Salisbury or at the Savoy.” The girl shook her head. “But a woman can't go looking for a man there,” she said. “That's why I thought “That ll he ail right,’ you"”—— Ford assured her hurriedty. ‘it happens that my own work takes me to these hotels, and if your husband is there 1 will find him.” He returned the photo- graphs. “Hadn't you better keep one?” she asked, “T won't forget him,” said the re- porter. “Besides'--he turned his eyes toward the doctor and, as though thinking aloud, said—-"‘he may have grown a beard.” The eyes of the woman grew troubled. Her lips pressed together as though in a sudden access of pain. “And he may,’ Ford continued, “have changed his name.’ As though fearful, if she spoke, the tears would fall, the girl nodded her head stiffly. “He's as good as found,” he pro- tested. “You will see him in a day, two days after you land.” The girl's eyes opened happily. She clasped her hands together and raised them. “You will try?" she begged “Yon will find him for me”—she’ corrected herself eageriy—‘for me and the baby?” The loose sleeves of the kimono fel! back to her shoulders showing the white arms; the eves raised to lord were glistening with tears “Of course I wil! find him,” growled the reporter. He freed himself from the appeal in the eyes of the young mother and left the cabin. The doctor followed. He was bubbling over with enthusiasm “That was fine!” he cried. “You 6aid just the right thing There will be no collapse now.” PPARENTLY. young Mrs. Ashton believed everything would come to pass just as Ford promised it would, for the next day, with courage in hee eves, she joined Ford and the doctor at the luncheon table. Her attention was concentrated on the younger man. In him she saw the one person who could bring her husband to her. “She acts," growled the doctor later in the smoking room, “as though she was afraid you were going to back out of your promise and jump over- board. “Don't think,” he protested violently, “its you she’s interested jn. Alll she sees in you ig what you can do for her. Can you see that?” “Any one as clever at seeing things as I am,” returned the reporter, “can- not help but eee that.” Later, as Ford was walking on the upper deck, Mrs. Ashton came toward him, beating her way against the wind. Without a trace of coquetry or self- consciousness, and with a sigh of con- tent, ashe faid her hand on his arm. “When I don’t see you,'’ she ex- elaimed as simply as a child, ‘I fee! so frightened. When I see you I know all will come right. Do you mind if I walk with you?” she asked. “And do you mind if every now and then I ask you to tell me again it will all come right?” For the three days following Mrs. Ashton and Ford were constantly to- gether, Or, at least, Mrs. Ashton was constantly with Ford. The doctor protested growing jealous. ‘Tm not geo greatiy to be envied,” suggested Ford. “‘Harry’ at meals three times a day afd on deok al) the rest of the day becomes monotonous. On a closer acquaintance with Harry he seems to be a decent sort of young man; at least he seems to have been at one time very much tn love with her.” “Well,” sighed. the doctor senti mentally, “she is certainly very mueh in love with Harry.” Ford shook his head non-commit tingly. “I don't know her story,” he raid. “Don't want to know it.” The ehtp was in the channel on her way to Cherbourg, running as smooth - ly as a clock. From the shore friendly lights told them they were nearing thele journey’s end that the land was on every side. Seated on a steamer- chair next to his In the semi-darkness ef the deck, Mrs. Ashton began to talk pervyously ami eagerly. that he was thing. If you did not know I would fee} I had not been fair.” “You mean,” said the amateur de- tective, “that your husband has de- serted you. That if it were mot for the baby you would not try to find him. Is that it?” “Yes,” she whispered. “That is it.” In the week in which they had been thrown together the girl unconsciously had told eré much about herself ani her husband. What she now told him was tut an amplification of what he had guessed. She bad met Ashton a year and a half before, when she had jast left schoo) at the convent and had returned to live with her family. Her home was at Far Rockaway. Her father was a cashier in a bank at Long Ieland City. Ome night, with a party of friends, she had been taken to a @ance at one of the beach hotels, and there met Ashton. At that time he was one of a firm that was making book at the Aqueduct race track, The girl had met very few men and with them she was shy and frightened, but wir. Ash ton she found herseif at once at ease. That night he drove her and her friends home in his touring car and the next day they teased her about her conquest. It made her very happy. After that she went to hops*sat the hotel, and as the bookmaker did not dance, the two young people sat upon the piazza. Then Ashton came to see her at her own house, but when ber father learned that the young man who had been calling, upon her was 1 bookmaker he told him he could not associate with his daughter. Put the girl was now deeply in love with Ashton, and apparently he with her. He begged her to marry him They agreed that in August, when the racing moved to Saratoga, they would and get run away married at that CCRUBOW @A4lIAavea Since that moment the wife’ had never setn him nor heard fron titi. © On the day of her marriage young Mra. Ashton had written fo | her father, asking him to give her his good wishes and pardon, He refused both. She remained in Saratoga. There she moved into cheap - ings, and in order that the $2,0000 Ashton had left with her might be saved for his child, she had learned to typewrite, and after four months had been able to support herself. Within the last month a girl friend whe had known both Ashton and herseif before they were married had written her that her husband was living in Lon- don, For the sake of her son she had at once determined to make an effort to seek him out. “The son, nonsense!" exclaimed the @octor, when Ford retold the story. “She ta not crossing the Ocean because she is worried about the future of her eon. She seeks her own happiness. The woman is in fove with her hus- band.” — ord shook his head. “I don't know!” he objected. “She's so extravagant in her praise of Harry that it seems unreal. It sounds in- sincere. Then, again, when I swear I will find him she shows a delight that you might describe as savage, al- most vindictive. As though, if I did find Harry, the first thing she would do would be to stick a knife in him,” “Maybe,” volunteered the doctor sadly, “she has heard there is a wom- an in the case. Maybe she is the one she’s thinking of sticking the knife into?” “Well,” declared the reporter, “if she doesn’t stop looking savage every time I promise to find Harry I won't find Harry.” “You are a cynic, sir,” protested the doctor. “That may be,” growled the re- porter, “but I am not a private detec. “ASHTON’S LEFT HAND HAD SHOT OUT AND SWIFTLY SEIZED HIS THROAT.” place. Their plan was that Ashton would jeave for Saratoga with the other racing men, and that she would join him the next day. They had arranged to be married by & magistrate, and Ashton had shown her a letter from one at Saratoga who consented to perform the ceremony He had given her an engagement ring and $2,000, which he asked her to keep for him, lest, tempted at the track, he should lose it. But she assured Ford it was not such material things as u letter, 2 ring, or a gift of money that had led her to trust Ashton HEY were married the morning arrived at Saratoga, and the same day departed for Ni agara Falls and Quebec, The honeymoon lasted ten days. They were ten days of complete happiness. N» one, so the girl declared, could hiv been more kind, more iinselfishly con- siderate than her husband, They re- turned to Saratoga and engaged a suite of rooms at one of the iiig hotels. Ash ton was not satisfied with the rooms sbown him, and leaving her upstairs returned to the office to ask far others she live agenes, nor a matrimonial bureau, and before | hear myself saving, ‘Bless you, my children!’ both of these young people wil) have to show me why they should not be kept asunder.” N the afternoon of their arrival in London Ford convoyed Mrs. Ashton to an old-estab- lished private hotel tn Craven street “Here,’ he explained, within a sew hundred place in which your to epend his time, | the same hote) “vou will be yards of the husband ta eaid will be living jn If 1 find bim sou wi! know it in ten minutes.” The widow gave « Jiithe gasp whether of excitement or of happiness erd could not determine “Whatever happens, sie begged’, “will you let me hear from you some- iwmes’ You are the oniy person I know in London—and it's so big it twightens me. J don’t want to be a burden,” ahe went on eageriy, “but if | can feel you ave within call"-— “What you need,” said Pord heartily, ‘is less of the doctor's nerve tonic end sleeping dranghts, and a iittle in- neoent diversion To-pight Lam going eis _WORLD'S FICTION SECTION, SATURDAY, MARCH 25, 1922. to take you td the Savoy’ to supper.” irs. Ashton’ ‘delightedly, and then was filled with ‘tmisgivinzgs. “I have nothing ‘to wear,” she pro- tested, “and over here, in th: cvening, the women dress Bo well. J! have a dinner gown,” she exclaimed, “vut it's black. Would that do?” Ford assured her nothing codld be better, He had a man’s vanity in lik- ing a woman with whom he was secn fm public to be pretty and smartly dressed, and he felt sure that in black the blonde peanty of Mrs. Asbten would appear to advantage. They ar- ranged to meet at 11 on the promenade leading to the Savoy supper-room, and parted with nrutual satisfaction at the prospect, HE finding of Harry Ashtoo was so simple that in ite very sim- plicity it appeared spectacu- lar. On leaving Mrs. Ashton Ford en- gaged rooms at the Hotel Cecil. Be- fore visiting his rooms he made his way to the American bar. He did not go there seeking Harry Ashton. His object was entirely self-centred. But as though by appointment, the man he had promised to find was waiting for him. As Ford entered the room, at a table facing the door sat Ashton. There was no mistaking him. He wore @ mustache, but it was no disguise, He was the same good-natured, good- looking youth who, in the photograph from under a Panama hat, had smiled upon the world. With a glad cry Ford rushed toward him. “Fancy meeting you!” he exclaimed. Mr. Ashton’s good-natured smile did not relax. He merely shook his head “Afraid you have made a mistake,* he said. The reporter regarded him blankly. His face showed his disappointment, “Aren't you Charles W. Garrett, of New York?’ he demanded. “Not me,” said Mr. Ashton. “But,” Ford insisted in hurt tones, as though he were being trifled with, “you have been told you look like him, haven't you?” Mr. Ashton’s good nature wus un- assailabie. “Sorry,” he declared, “never heard of him.” Ford became garruious. he couNl not believe two men could look s@ much alike. The stranger must cer< tainly have a drink, the drink intend« ed for his twin. Ashton was bored, but accepted. He was well acquaint- ed with the easy good-fellowship of his countrymen, The room tn which he sat wus a meeting-place for them. This one, though as loquacious as the others, seemed better dressed, more “wise’; he brought to the exile the atmosphere of his beloved Broalway, so Ashton drank to him pleasantly. “My name is Sydney Carter,” he yol« unteerod. As a poker-player skims over the cards in his hand, Ford, in his mind's eye, ran over the vulue of giving or not giving his right name. But he did, Within ten minutes the man he had promised to pluck from among the 8,000,000 inhabitants of London was smiling sympathetically at his jests and buying a drink N the steamer Ford had re- hearsed the story with which, should he meet Ashton, he would introduce himself. It was one arranged to fit with his theory that Ashton was a crook. If Ashton were a crook Ford argued that to at once ingratiate himself in his good graces he also must be a crook. His plan was to invite Ashton to co-oper- ate with him in some scheme thut was openly dishonest. Ky so doing he hoped apparently to place himself at Ashton's mercy. He believed it hé comid persuade Ashton he was more of a rascal than Ashton himself, and an exceedingly stupid rascal, any dis- trust the bookmaker might feel toward him would disappear He male his advances So openly, and appir-tly showed his hand so carelessly, that, from being bored, Ashton became puzzled, then interested; and when Word insisted he should dine with him, he considered it so necessary to id out who the youth might be who was forcing himself upon him thut he ae- cepted the imvitation They adjourned to dress and an hour later, at Ford's suggestion, they met at the Carlton There Ford or- dered a dinner calculated to tull hig newly made friend into a mood suited to confidence, but which had on Ash. ton exactly the opposite cffect. In Ford's hospitality, he saw only cause for suspicion. If, as he had first fear. ed, Ford was a New York detective, i¢ was most fmportant he should know that No one better than Ashton un- derstood that, a! (that moment, his presence in New York meant, for the police, tinalloyed satisfaction, and for ‘imself undisturbed solitude it wes irne Ford was familiar with all the habits of Broadway and the Tender- loin. Of places with which Ashton was niimate, and of men with whom Agh- ton had formerly been well acquaint. ed, he talked glibly. But, if he were a detective, Asbton considered, they certainly had improved the class The restaurant into which for the first time Ashton had penetrated, and in which he felt ill at ease, was to Ford, he Observed, a matter of course, Evidenuy for Word it held ne terwors. He criticised the service, pat- ponived the head waiters, and grumbled a\ the food; and when, on ieaving the wae on tr ats » ty al $ i? we