6 3 —. - y The Man on I k the Box J W By HAROLD MacGRATH \ ■ Authorot "TheGreyCloak," , 'The I Puppet Crowu." , Copyright, X 904, Tbe Bobbs-Merrill Company CHAPTER XXI. THE KOSK. On Wednesday morning, clear and cold; not a cloud floated across the sky, nor did there rise above the hori zon one of those ciouds (portentious forerunners of evil!) to which novel ists refer as being "no larger than a man's hand." Heaven knew right well that the blight of evil was approach ing fast enough, but there was no visi ble indication on her face that glorious November morning. Doubtless you are familiar with history and have read all about what great personages did just before calamity swooped down on them. The Trojans laughed at the wooden horse; I don't know how many Roman banqueters never reached the desert because the enemy had not paid any singular regard to courtesies in making the attack; men and women danced on the eve of Waterloo —"On with the dance, let joy be unconflned;" my heroine simply went shopping. It doesn't sound at all romantic; very prosaic, in fact. She declared her intention of making a tour of the shops and of dropping into Mrs. Chadwick's on the way home. She ordered James to bring around the pair and coupe. James was an exam ple of docile obedience. As she came down the steps, she was a thing of beauty and a joy for ever. She wore one of those jackets to which several gray-squirrel families had contributed their hides, a hat whose existence was due to the negligence of a certain rare bird, and many silk-worms had spun the fabric of her gown. Had any one called her attention to all this, there fsn't any doubt that she would have been shocked. Only here and there are women who see what a true Moloch fashion is; this tender-souled girl saw only a handsome habit which pleased the eye. Health bloomed in her cheeks, health shone from her eyes, her step had all the elasticity of youth. "Good morning, James," she said pleasantly. James touched his hat. What was it.he wondered. Somehow her eyes looked unfamiliar to him. Had I been there I could have read the secret eas- I — a; m-K UP WENT SHOPPING, ily enough. Sometimes the pure pools of the forests are stirred and become impenetrable; but by and by the com motion subsides, and the water clears. So it is with the human soul. There had been doubt hitherto in this girl's eyes; now, the doubt was gone. To him, soberly watchful, her smile meant much; it was the patent of her innocence of any wrong thought. All night he had tossed on his cot, think ing, thinking! What should he do? Whatever should he do? That some wrong was on the way he hadn't the least doubt. Should he confront the colonel and demand an explanation, a demand he knew he had a perfect right to make? If this should be evil, and the shame of It fall on this lovely being? . . . No, no! He must stand aside, he must turn a deaf ear to duty, the voice of love spoke too loud. His own assurance of her inno cence made him desire to fall at her feet and worship. After all, it was none of his affair. Had he not played at this comedy, this thing would have gone 011 and he would have been in ig norance of its very existence. So, why should he meddle? Yet that monot onous query kept beating on his brain: What was this thing? He saw that he must wait. Yester day he had feared nothing save his own exposure. Comedy had frolicked in her grinning mask. And here was Tragedy stalking in upon the scene. The girl named a dozen shops which she fesired to honor with her custom and presence, and siepped into the coupe. William closed the door, and James touched up the pair and drove off toward the city. He was perfectly indifferent to any possible exposure. In truth, he forgot everything, absolutely and positively everything, but the girl f.tid (lie fortification plans she had l#>en dr iw'nfr. Scarce a half a dozen bundles were the result of the tour among the shops. "Mrs. Chadwick's, .lames." The call lasted half an hour. As the story-teller I am supposed to be everywhere, to follow the foot steps of each and all of my characters, and with a fidelity and perspicacity nothing short of the marvelous. So I take the liberty of imagining the pith of the conversation between the woman and the girl. The Woman: How long, dear, have W8 kno>n each other? The Girl: Since I left school, I be lieve. Where did you get that stun ning morning gown? The Woman (smiling in spite of the serious purpose she has in view): Never mind the gown, my child; 1 have something of greater importance to talk about. The Girl: Is there anything more important to talk about among women? The Woman: Yes. There is age. The Girl: But, mercy, we do not talk about that! The Woman: I am going to estab lish a precedent, then. I am 40 or at least, I am on the verge of it. The Girl (warningly): Take care! If we should ever become enemies! If I should ever become treacherous! The Woman: The world very well knows that I am older than I look. That is why it takes such interest in my age. The Girl: The question is, how do you preserve it? The Woman: Well, then, I am 40, while you stand on the threshold of the adorable 20s. (Walks over to pic ture taken IS years before and con templates it.) Ah, to be 20 again; to start anew, possessing my present learning and wisdom, and knowledge of the world; to avoid the pits into which I so carelessly stumbled! But no! The Girl: Mercy! what have you to wish for? Are not princes and am bassadors your friends; have you not health and wealth and beauty? You wish for something, you who are so handsome and brilliant! The Woman: Blinds, my dear Betty, only blinds; for that is all beauty and wealth and wit are. Who sees behind sees scars of many wounds. You are without a mother, I am without a child. (Sits down beside the girl and takes her hand in hers.) Will you let me be a mother to you for just this morning? How can any man help lo\ing you! (impulsively.) The Girl: How foolish you are, Grace! The Woman: Ah, to blush like that! The Girl: You are very embarrass ing this morning. I believe you are very sentimental. Well, my handsome mother for just this morning, what is it you have to say to me? (jestingly.) The Woman: I do not know just how to begin. Listen. If ever trouble should befall you, if ever misfortune should entangle you, you will promise to come to me? The Girl: Misfortune? What is on your mind, Grace? The Woman: Promise! The Girl: I promise. (Laughs.) The Woman: I am rich. Promise that if poverty should ever come to you, you will come to me. The Girl (puzzled): I do not under stand you at all! The Woman: Promise! The Girl: I promise; but — The Woman: Thank you, Betty. The Girl (growing serious): What is all this about. Grace? You look so earnest. The Woman: Some day you will understand. Will you answer me one question as a daughter would answer her mother? The Girl (gravely): Yes. The Woman: Would you marry a title for the title's sake? The Girl (indignantly): I? The Woman: Yes; would you? The Girl: I shall marry the man I love, and if not him, nobody. I mean, of course, when I love. The Woman: Blushing again? My dear, is Karloff anything to you? The Girl: Karloff? Mercy, no. He is handsome and fascinating and rich but I could not love him. It would be easier to love —to love my groom out side. (They both smile.) The Woman (grave once more): That, is all I wished to know dear. Karloff is not worthy of you. The Girl (sitting very erect): Ido not understand. Is he not honorable? The Woman (hesitatingly): I have known him for seven years; I have always found him honorable. The Girl: Why, then, should he not be worthy of me? The Woman (lightly): Is any man? The Girl: You are parrying my question. If lam to be your daughter, there must be no fencing. The Woman( rising and going over to the portrait again): There are some things that a mother may not tell even to her daughter. The Girl (determinedly): Grace, you have said too much or too little. I do not love Karloff. I never could love him; but I like him, and liking him, I feel called upon to defend him. • The Woman (surprised into showing her dismay): You defend him? You! The Girl: And why not? That is what I wish to know; why not? The Woman: My dear, you do not love him. That is all I wished to know. Karloff is a brilliant, handsome man, a gentleman; his sense of honor, such as it is, would do credit to many another man: but behind all this there is a power which makes him helpless, makes him a puppet, and robs him of certain worthy impulses. I have read somewhere that corpora tions have no souls; neither have gov ! ernments. Ask me nothing more, I Betty, for I shall answer no more questions. CAMERON COUNTY PRESS, THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 6, 1906. The Girl: I don't think you are treating me fairly. 'Flie Woman: At this moment I ; would willingly share with you half of all I possess In the world. The Girl: But all this mystery! The Woman: As I have said, some day you will understand. Treat Kar loff as you have always treated him, politely and pleasantly. And 1 beg of , >ou never to repeat our conversation, j The Girl (to whom illumination sud- j derly comes; rises quickly and goes over to the woman; takes her by the shoulders, and the two stare into each other's eyes, the one searchingly, the other fearfully); Grace! The Woman: I am a poor, foolish woman, Betty, for all my worldliness and wisdom; but I love you (softly), and that is why I appear weak before you. The blind envy those who see, the deaf those who hear; what one does not want another can not have. Karloff loves you, but you do not love him. (The girl kisses the woman gravely on the cheek, and without a word, makes her departure.) The Woman (as she hears the car riage roll away): Poor girl! Poor, happy, unconscious, motherless child! If only I had the power to stay the blow! . . . Who can it be, then, that she loves? The Girl (in her carriage): Poor thing! She adores Karloff, and I never suspected it! I shall begin to hate him. How well women read each other! James had never parted with his rose and his handkerchief. They were always with him, no matter what liv ery he wore. After luncheon, Wil liam said that MiSB Annesley desired HE HESITATED. to see him in the study. So James spruced up and duly presented himself at the study door. "You sent for me, Miss?"— his hat in his hand, his attitude deferential and attentive. She was engaged upon some fancy work, the name of which no man knows, and if he were told, could not possibly remember for longer than ten minutes. She laid this on the read ing-table, stood up and brushed the threads from her little two-by-four cambric apron. "James, on Monday night I dropped a rose on the lawn. (Finds thread on her sleeve.) In the morning when I looked for it (brushes the apron again), it was gone. Did you find it?" She made a little ball of the strag gling threads and dropped it into the waste-basket. A woman who has the support of beauty can always force a man to lower his gaze. James looked at his boots. His heart gave one great bound toward his throat, then sank what seemed to be fathoms deep in his breast. This was a thunderbolt out of heaven itself. Had she seen him, then? For a space he was tempted to utter a falsehood; but there was that in her eyes which warned him of the uselessness of such an expedient. Yet, to give up that rose would be like giving up some part of his being. She repeated the question: "I ask you if you found it." "Yes, Miss Annesley." "Do you still possess it?" "Yes, Miss." "And why did you pick it up?" "It was fresh and beautiful; and I believed that some lady at the dinner had worn it." "And so you picked it up? Where did you find it?" "Outside the bow-window, Miss." "When?" He thought for a moment. "In the morning. Miss." "Take care, James; it was not yet 11 o'clock at night." "I admit what I said was not true, Miss. As you say, it was not yet 11." James was pale. So she had thrown it away, confident that this moment would arrive. This humiliation was premeditated. Patience, he said, in wardly; this would be the last opportunity she would have to humil iate him. "Have you the flower on your per son?" "Yes, Miss." "Did you know that it was mine?"— mercilessly. "Yes; but I believed that you had de liberately thrown it away. I saw no harm in taking it." "But there was harm." "I bow to your superior judgment, Miss." —ironically. She deemed it wisest to pass over this experimental irony. "Give the I flower back to me. It is not proper that a servant should have in his keep ing a rose which was once mine, even if I had thrown it away or discarded it." Carefully he drew forth the crum pled flower. He looked at her, then at the rose, hoping against hope that she might relent. He hesitated till Ue saw an Impatient movement of the ex tended hand. He surrendered. "Thank you. That is all. You may go." She tossed the withered flower Into tho wastebasket. "Pardon me, but before I go I have to announce that I shall resign rny po. sit ion next Monday. The money which has been advanced to me, deducting that which is due me, together with the amount of my fine at the police-court, I shall be pleased to return to you on the morning of my departure." Miss Annesley's lips fell apart, and her brows arched. She was very much surprised. "You wish to leave my service?"—as if it were quite impossible that such a thing should occur. "Yes, Miss." "You are dissatisfied with your po sition?" —icily. "It is not that. Miss. As a g?co;n I am perfectly satisfied. The trouble lies in the fact that I have too many other things to do. It is very dis tasteful for me to act in the capacity of butler. My temper is not equable enough for that position." He bowed. "Very well. I trust that you will not regret your decision." She sat down and coolly resumed her work. "It is not possible that I shall re gret it." "You may go." He bowed again, one corner of hia mouth twisted. Then he took himself off to the stables. He was certainly in what they call a towering rage. If I were not a seer of the first de gree. a narrator of the penetrative or der, I should he vastly puz/.led over this singular action on her part. [To Re Continued.] WHEN LONGFELLOW SANG. SlnKine School* Wore the Hafte ami "Joseph" llnd Cnnelit the Krvrr. The office of station agent at George town was held for a number of years by William Horner. In those days singing schools flourished throughout the country districts, and Horner was one of the most prominent in this di version, relates the Boston Herald, On one occasion a friend from Bos ton was visiting him, and he wished to show him the country. Accordinly after the last train had gone, Horner hitched up his horse and drove the visitor down to Plum island, returning through Newbury somewhat after mid night. When he came to the old Longfellow place on the hill, where Joseph Long-* fellow was then living, he pulled in his horse. "I want to stop here a minute," he said. Leaving the astonished visitor in the buggy, Horner went to the door and rapped loudly. The old gentle man within, hearing the noise, aros« and came at wee to the door. As soon as he appeared, Horner, without a word, began to sing: "Should auld acquaintance be for got—" Longfellow, standing in the door way, clad only in his night clothes, took up the song, and together they finished it. Horner turned and re joined his companion, while the old gentleman went back to bed. The visitor was sufficiently aston ished by this time to exclaim lit the unusual occurrence. "Oh," said Horner, "anybody in this country will get up to sing with you!" "Any Time Yoo Say." A Boston financier whose summer home is on the south shore, recently paid the fines imposed on a group of lobstermen after the raid of the state fish commission for short lobsters. At that particular beach the broker's name has the prestige of the president's. One Saturday afternoon, as he seated himself in his touring car at the rail way station, he directed the chauffeur to follow a certain road to his estate in order that he might pass the shanties of the lobstermen. Having plans for a sail, and noticing, as he followed the shore, that it was then about half tide, he inquired of the first lobster man he met when it would be high tide. With hat in hand, the man in oilskins replied: "Any time you say, Mr. X."—Boston Herald. Seemed to Hnve illm Cornered. The teacher was discoursing to the class on the wonders of nature. "Take the familiar illustration of the sting of a wasp," he said, "as compared with the finest needle. When examined through a microscope the sting is still sharp, smooth and polished, while the needle appears blunt and rough. "It is so with everything. The works of nature are infinitely superior to those of art. Try how we may, we cannot improve on nature." "It isn't so with my eyes, teacher," said a little girl in the class. "Why, how is that, Nellie?" he asked. " 'Cause nature made me cross-eyed," she said, "and the doctors fixed my eyes all right."—Youth's Companion. *ot A in lilt IOIIM for Kuther. A New Hampshire man who had at various times been a candidate for public office, says the Boston Herald, has a small son about six years of age. The Herald says six years, and that part of the story is probably as true as the rest. The lad, who had been meditating upon tho uncertainties of kingly ex istence, asked his mother: "If the King of England should die, who would be king?" "The Prince of Wales." "If the Prince of Wales should dit who would be king?" The mother endeavored to explain but the boy, with a deep breath, s»id "Well, anyway, I hope pa won't tr« for iL" Balcom & Lloyd. I 1 ========== § IWE have the best stocked general store in the county B and if you are looking for re- w liable goods at reasonable prices, we are ready to serve fig you with the best to be found. !9 Our reputation for trust- pj gj worthy goods and fair dealing «| ffl is too well known to sell any p 8 but high grade goods. j| I Our stock of Queensware and j| H Ohinaware is selected with p k great care and we have some «| B of the most handsome dishes j ever shown in this section, j both in imported and domestic j| jj makes. We invite you to visit ill 0 us and look our goods over. 0 j a J 1 I M >fl | Balcom & Lloyd. J 112 wiFwiiririrwwfiiririFirwif wwriiFiriri n JJ LOOK ELSEWHERE BUT DON'T FORGET || || THESE PRICES AND FACTS AT I | LaBAR'S II S M -1 » H m ; M H We carry in stock | ~ . | fcg the largest line of Car- ~ \ fcl Hi pets, Linoleums and |] E3 Mattings of all kinds * * E3 ever brought to this v. B[QJXDXO*LI|J* Pf town. Also a big line »* H of samples. IMMII N II A very large line of -FOR THE tUBF Jl II S3? CONfDRTABIE LODGING U ti Art Squares and of fine books in a choice library PJ Rugs of all sizes and select the Ideal pattern of Globe- P* |j kind, from the cheap- Wernicke "Elastic" Bookcase. H H es t t 0 tl ie best. Furnished with bevel French ! M plate or leaded glass doors. Dining Chairs, I ,0 " •*" °* I M Rockers and I GEO. J. LaBAR, I ** (k jtf High Chairs. Bole Agent for Cameron County. £jg £2 A large and elegant L-—* j El line of Tufted and Drop-head Couches. Beauties and at bargain prices. £ j H il |3O Bedroom Suits, COC |4O Sideboard, quar- tfQA C 2 ►' " solid oak at tered cak )0U P" S2B Bedroom Suits, COI $32 Sideboard, quar- COC pf| solid oak at 4)ZI tered oak 4)ZO ** $25 Bed room Suits, COfl $22 Sideboard, quar- CIC solid oak at 4>ZU tered oak, 4)1 0 A large line of Dressers from Chiffoniers of all kinds and M H $8 up. all prices. M . : M fcj , The finest line of Sewing Machines on the market, kg Jj the "DOMESTIC" and "ELDRIEGE.' All diop- |J heads and warranted. g * A fine line of Dishes, common grade and China, in F 2 5 sets and by the piece. * j M As I keep a full line of everything that goes to $4 £1 make up a good Furniture store, it is useless to enuin- M |ig erate them all. M fcjg Please call and see for yourself that lam telling M || you the truth, and if you don't buy, there is no harm gg Cg done, as it is no trouble to show goods. 11 il GEO. J.LaBAR. jj N TJNDBRTAKLINO. M lipwiwwwwwwwwwwiiniiri'wwwwwwww^jl
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