The evening world. Newspaper, April 8, 1922, Page 14

een) ei ASO A — —— ==, a Sophie Kerr BY Underwoo “That's exactly what the other two jjust get the police be inybody thought. “H. sald,’ flashed through Martie’s mind. ejse comes [il tey the telephone once clothes, She couldn't trap this now pair down there, anyway That place was fully ' pre-empted f “Come in,’ she said at last, “and let “THERE WAS NO me see your badges, I'll assist you { of course, if you're really detectives ANSWER FROM They flashed badges that were fo all the world like those shown her ten CENTRAL. THE LINE WAS DEAD." nd he wouldn't minutes earlier by the other pair. “Are you alone—or are there more of you waiting outside?” she asked What do you want to know for?” “Nothing special,’ said Martie, "But ft never rains but it pours, you know.” “It ain't raining and we ain't here to talk about the weather. We're do ing the job ourselves,” answered the spokesman. “I guess we were just in time, hey? I see you got a truck out there, engine running, to make a@ get- away of it. Lucky we come just when we did.” Now What in the world did he mean by that?) Were these a different gang after all? Martie took a deep breath and addressed herself to her problem “So you guessed that, did you?” she aid admiringly. “No use trying to hide anything from you! Will you please come upstairs? My father had a store room built at the end of his own bath—in the wall, you know.’ “We heard It was in the cellar,” murred one of the men, “Oh, no,” said Martie. “It’s on the second floor. Just follow me, please. I'll show you.” “Say, what's that noise?’ asked the one who had spoken first, pausing half way up the stairs, ’ de- HY all stopped to listen—yes, there were smashings—and impassioned cries—but dimmed and deadened by many walls between, , “I think it’s one of those funny monologue records—there’s a phono graph in the servants’ sitting room they love it,” said Martie, thought- fully. She turned to go on, and after a second’s hesitation they followed he he Jed them into her father's room, done by a famous decorator in black oak and wonderful Charles Il. needle- work. “Swell place, Bill," commented the more talkative of the men, gazing said Bill. T'm glad you like it,” said Martle in a wistfully innocent tone. ‘No! that's the bath. The liquor storage room is at the end—wehind those mor ~ But that was no use it was With whic clothes hanging there—do you see?” still dead promptly © Mr. Craig's pet complaint about his cars, and it might be architect that his bath had no win- self for help than to take time to ex- turn hind the two new intruders and heard a shuffling step on the veranda, ing down at her. snapped to the strong bolt—she her- and unsteady hands apparently fumbl- norevening’, pl self having remained outside. They ing for the bell. Been lookin’ for zish 7p WHO'S WHO IN THE STORY. Johnson to the hunting lodge and place the fugitive party under arrest Scotland there vents before the INSTALMENT NO. 6. foretell and torewarn, Jack Drogue meets Penelope at the Block House. She has threater to steal his horse unless he will escort her across, Ile takes her in. his that were true of her tint of pink apple oI peated. “Do y ordinary folk?" STOOD by the window looking “Did T say so?” sald T startled out across the Viale at Maxon ‘No. . . . I feel that you do not Ridge, where I felt very sure like m Is it bec that hostile eyes were watching without decency when I tole your the fu the Sacandaga and this very house. horae?"* “Unbidden—when it ¢ “Yos, sir—sometimes. use T used you . the glimpse As 00) ing, I saw Penelope Grant beside me, calls you say you are sorry Lac tonurauaearn ‘May I have a word alone with “Tam so." I pondered this for you, Mr, Drogue?’ she asked. “Then—I am friendly--if you so de “Could ye So we went out to the veranda sire, Penelope Grant.” erie how Vile: weai “There to he a bt Her level eyes met mine across the “By obliging you to take men to 1 wished you to know that I Caughnawaga It inconveniences friend of liberty a garding me across the ‘she continued, “My — 1 felt inclined to laneh _THE EVENING WORLD, SATURDAY, APRIL 8, 1922, moned by phone and armed with rea glass shelves, infuriated de- (Continued From Preceding Page.) zied kicks pursued her as © | looked through the alde — from the room, but that was a) hold a fashionably attired, search the place for liquor We shail “There's not another place to | way 1¢ gentleman trying expect you to heip us. You're Mis® \5 any one," she exclaimed a the entrance, Craig, 1 take it.’ she rushed downstairs 1 simply “Oh, he can't be a the bootlegrer wouldn't have “What place “Izshe lookin’ for atime—he tole +plucky and cool-headedest girl th He staggered satisfaction and sayin soimnd asleep. friend of Percy sort of friend Der Reeston himself livan’s roadster was « not stop there and fet them telephone ran the roadster a minute later up in the house, and T don’t know And suddenly she be hands and caught she looked a lot : the one who GIMME LI'L DRINK YOUR BESHT HOME BREW.” of cars filled tached to the shots, a procession pi Re rn nr e e ee e = — Next Saturday’s Complete Story — Ghost Patrol By SINCLAIR LEWIS Iffustrated by WILL B. JOHNSTONE tow a Grav Old Cop Played Cupid in His Own Way supient comment ened the door They pressed in eagerly, and she let It occurred to her that she could “O—oh—di' I fin’ it?” them precede her. It had always been ‘take one of the other of the thieves’ mushy, but most unterrifying voice ier to go her- Find what?” asked Martie arresting the Th dow, nothing but interior ventilation. plain to Tim, She stoped a moment in The drunken gentleman Martie thought of that architect with the hall to put a heavy coat over her and took two quick steps, ¢ gratitude as she closed the door be- evening dress, ana us she did so s! side of the door and stood there, smil- et him sleep stood on the t was a wonder they — hie > i i Top i , ~ leaped back, but too late. Rattlings of ‘More of them! Impossible! She ev’ since & o'clock, Mished Order Your Evening World in Advance the door knob, infuriated cries, fren- snapped on the veranda lights, and round some more—mished She dropped him « took her hands and kis. 1 exclaimed, wish to enlist “We sent old Douw Fonda to Albany not knowing what upon ns out o’ that damned And, knowing you had gone got news of you through ) your cousin Bowman's, to my Bush And now, my girl, you may go to Albany and Patroon until this tempest breaks and blows over, or go Fonda need me? Sir John and Guy JACK DROGUE, of a title, but out of sympathy with the Royalists, for a soldier?" having served witt the Rebel Mohawk Company with aeacer ICK STONER, his friend and neighbor in_the woods, who shares J drew! back In amazement. the same brave sentiments of snatching. with the Continental Army. “But how about Mr. Fond SIR JOHN, a Royalist of County Tryon, who has given his parole and manded, ‘If you don jack- laid down arms at Johnson Hall, although the presence of hanger and go for a dragoon HIAKATOO, war chief of the Seneca Tribe, leads Jack Drogue to “T shall ask his permission to serve suspect there is some treachery afoot at the supper party to which my country." LADY JOHNSON sends a special invitation to Free “Come,” said I, “we Tr CLAUDIA SWIFT, a coquette, who shares favors with men have as yet no need to call upon CAPT. STEVE WATTS, Lady Johnson's brother, our loyal women to shoulder ENSIGN MOUICHER of the Mohawk Regiment, and AIL our ranks.”? LIEUT. HARE, his friend—also a Tory. . “No need of me, sit?!’ PENELOPE GRANT, yello®-haired Scotch girl, whom men flatter “Surely, surely, but not yet to such servant to Douw Fonda, mentioned light!y by Sir John. & pass that we strap a b JESSICA and BETSY BROWSE, two rustic maids who tell of horses your thigh. Sew for us that ride in the night. Indian signal fires. The Block House bell sounds us'*-—— an alarm. 7 . She stood resting hoth arms on the _ COLONEL DAYTON of the Continental Army, whose regiment of the bent bough, her face New York Line occupies Johnson Hall after Sir John has fled. Jack flowers. And 1 don't know Drogue is commissioned lieutenant. Hi: first order is to follow Lady thought of it, or remembered thut tn : in our beds, Douw Fonda Caughawaga, and so needs no housekeeper.” tre some the gift of clear vision and who see arrive=nay, And, looking at her, | as ers And you could and comfort." this T do not I did not seem om grow shy saddle as far as Summer House Point. Lady Johnson and Claudia are face; and her dark e declared prisoners. Penelope sleeps in the gun room troubled THE WHITE VISION. oa oo “Is that the way with yout" re clea nen and much proflig sether to the Summer Then this strange knowlee Ire comes of itself A hand touched my arm, and, turn- = “Perhaps. But it is now over—be- It 18 Hke & Mash —then darkness u decided on tel me anything to leave me, ry dearly?" de “Moen will fleht int gin) by both hands it, Tam now at liberty THE FOLIAGE ACROSS and walked a little way among the “L wish to whisper to you," said ing tow voice apple trees, slowly. she, bending the flowering bough North 1 know “Well,” said I quietly. lower there will be strange unifor So 1 inclined my ear across It, and — woods—not fr itisl redenats. INDIAN IN HIS PAINT.” whisper At the well I called to my men, who Fonda with unmilitary famil ‘re off to scout felt’ her delicat th gainst my 1 0" ou on flowering branch. cheek mon Mey valve shi ' “I am sorry, to disturb you," said “I wish to make known to you that And there © breathed, bec Lam of your party, Mr, Drogue," she feet Death . ¥ Love “How disturb me?" Whlspared When presently iny composure 1 nodded approval turned to me, and 1 saw there was Iro- noke on old Maxon this morn- and I should like at le ashes of that he blossoms: rely happen “1 knew it when I saw yo you sentiment is very ardent, Mr, Drogue: “When did this strange “YT promised to see you safely | burn with desire to serve this land, come to you? I asked to which my father’s wish has com- unbelief and heard yo and turned to ew near the house there, and that is all about it,” said mitted me. 1 am young, strong, not “Tho day 1 first heard 1 dryly. afraid. J can load and shoot a pis- and I camo ont and saw “You do not like me, Mr. Drogue."* tol" eye of the wires had been cut, presumabjy by the same, so that it was far past midnight when the Craig house simmered down fo its normal quietude. LA, of the police, except the real detectives, who couldn't help beng peevish about the preserves and pickles on them, and all of the men from the Country Club were loud in their com pliments of Martie. They said she was wonderful—the ‘bravest and most a heard of. And they gave her three cheers, and all of them volun- teered to patrol the house for the rest of the night and take care that no other molestation occurred. But Mar tle would not have tt “Mr. Edwards is going to stay, and Kit ‘up in the library,” she told them, sweetly but firmly. So at last all the cars got away, and the general moss was cleared up, and the servants went off chattering. ‘This left Lowell and Martie alone, in the MWbrary, They didn’t look at each other—nelther of them knew exactly iow to begin. “I'm: sure all the maids will give warning in the morning,” said Martie at last, “They won't stay after thi T suppose I'll have to close the house. after all.” Lowell was pretty downcast “Well, you were marvellous, Mar tie,” he said, in a dreary voice, “I take off my hat to you. You've made good on everything you said. The way you kept your head! God knows you spoke no more than the truth when you said you were afrald of nothing and didn’! need any one to take care of you.” Martie looked at him, at his dejec tion, the forlorn droop of his broad shoulders, at his funny little cowlick that made his hair stick up to the tight of his parting, she thought of how bitterly she had missed him and she made up her mind that every woman has the right to tell one lic to the man she loves, and that th was the moment for telling hers. “Oh, Lowell”-—- she began, and put A pathetic little tremolo in her voice “if you only knew how frightened | was through it all! My knees shook my hands teembled—I thought iv heart would choke me, it pounded so— I—1 was simply scared to death. Why. 1 wouldn't stay alone like this again for a million dollars, Everything | aid was—was just—a blind attempt at nelf-preservation: wonder = my hair hasn't turned white. 1 do need e one to take care of me, oh, | —— and her voice trailed off into a sob of infinite pathos. That sob brought Lowell over to her in one jump, and he snatched her to h hungry-orphan style. Oh well—you know the rest of ‘t She even asked Jean Desborough to be one of the bridesmaids. But s!v wouldn't have Percy Beeston as an usher. Which was, after all, rather unfair to him. Who brought them to gether again, if it wasn't Percy Bee ston? But Percy didn't mind, for nothing stronger than coffee was served at the wedding reception Copyright—AN rights reserved Printed by arrangement with, Metropolitan Newspaper Services (New York Pr. obert Ww. Ia mMbers 1922.: BELL SYNDICATE 7,ANC, THE DROWNED LANDS. OR two weeks my, .small pairel F of six remainad in’ abe Viemit\ of the Sacandagu, )Scotitins: even as far as Stony Creek, Silver Lake, and West River,,, covering Maxon, too, and the Drowned Lands But never a glimpse of Sir John did we obtain It was now near the middle of June but Nick thought that Sir John had not yet reached Canada, nor was like to accomplish that terrible journey through a pathless wilderness under a full month. I was sitting on’ a great, smoot! boulder, by a little trout stream. It was still afternoon and yery warm in the sun, but pleasant there. Nick had cooked dinner—parched corn and trout, which we caught in the brook with one of my fish hooks and a, red wampum bead from my moc sins tied above the barb And now, dinner ended, Nick fay asleep. Suddenly, thought froze; from tic foliage across the creck, scarce twenty feet from where I sat, and without the slightest sound, stepped an Indian in his paint The roar of the waters was loud in my ears, but his calm voice came in through it distinct! “Peace, brother!” he said in the soft Oneida dialect, and lifted his right hand high in the sunshine, the oper palm turned toward me. “Don't move!" I called across the stream, “Lay your blanket on tt ground and place your gun across it Calmly he obeyed, then straight ened up and stood there empty hand ed, naked in his war paint, except for the beaded breadth of deerskin that fell from belt to knee. “Nick!" I called cautiously “I am awake and I have laid him over my riffe-sight,"" came Nick's voice from the woods behind me “Look sharp, John, that there be not others ambuscaded along the bank."* I called across the stream to the In dian: ‘Who are you, brether?"”* He said is his quiét’ but distinct voice: ‘My nation is Onelda; my clan is the Tortgise; T am a Tahioni T come as a friend." And he quietly folded™his arms ‘Copyright, 1922, The Bell Syndicate, In: (To Be Continued.)