6 4fH§§§; JThe Man on | the Box J By HAROLD MacGRATH \ Author of " The Grey Cloak," "Tho Puppet Crown." I * * J Copyright, 1904, Tba Bobbs-Merrili Company. CHAPTER XXIV. —CONTINUED. "Has anybody recognized you?" I asked, unlocking the door to my apart ment. » "No; and I shouldn't care a hang if they had." "Oho!" Warburton flung himself into a chair and lighted a cigar. He puffed it rap- Idly, while I got together my shaving and toilet sets. "Start her up," said I. "Chuck, when my father died he left nearly a quarter of a million In five per centa; that Is to say, Jack, Nancy and I were given a yearly in come of about $4,500. Nancy's portion and mine are still in bonds which do not mature till 1900. Jack has made several bad Investments, and about half of his is gone, but his wife has plenty, so his losses do not trouble him. Now, I have been rather frugal during the past seven years. I have ilved entirely upon my army pay. I must have something like $20,900 ly ing in the bank in New York. On Mon day, between three and four o'clock, Col. Annesley will become practically ft beggar, a pauper." "What?" My shaving mug slipped from my hand and crashed to the floor, where it lay in a hundred pieces. "Yes. He and his daughter will not have a roof of their own: all gone, every stick and stone. Don't ask any questions; only do as I ask of you." He took out his check-book and filled out two blanks. These he handed to me. "The large one I want you to place in the Union bank, to the credit of Col. Annesley." I looked at the check. "Twenty thousand dollars?" I gasped. "The Union bank has this day dis counted the colonel's note. It falls due on Monday. In order to meet it. <aas — I* L fell L <- •?> "YOU ARE CRAZY." he will have to sell what is left of the Virginia estate and his fine horses. The interest will be inconsiderable." "What—" I began, but he Inter rupted me. "I shall not answer a single ques tion. The check for $3,000 is •for the purchase of the horses, which Will be put on sale Saturday morning. They are easily worth this amount. Through whatever agency you please, buy these horses for me, but not in my name. As for the note, cash my check first and present the currency for the note. No one will know anything about it then. You can not trace money." "Good Lord, Bob, you are crazy! You are giving away a fortune." I remonstrated. "It is my own, and my capital re mains untouched." "Have you told her that you love her? Does she know who you arc?" I %vas very much excited. "No," —sadly, "I haven't told her that I love her. She does not know who I am. What is more, I never want her to know. I have thrown my arms roughly around her, thinking her to be Nancy, and have kissed her. Some reparation is due her. On Monday I shall pack up quietly and return to the west." "Annesley beggared? What in heav en's name does this mean?" 1 was confounded. "Some day, Chuclc, when you hav« entered the family properly as my sis ter's husband, perhaps I may confide in you. At present the secret isn't mine. Let it suffice that through pe culiar circumstances, the father of the girl I love is ruined. I am not doing (his for any theatrical play, gratitude and all that rot," —with half a smile. "I admire and respect Col. Annesley; I love his daughter, hopelessly enough. I have never been of much use to any one. Other persons' troubles never worried me to any extent; I was hap py-go-lucky, eai<3less and thoughtless. True, I never passed a beggar without dropping a coin into his cup. Hut often this act was the result of a good dinner and a special vintage. The $20,000 will kee<i the colonel's home, ■the house his child was- - born in and tier mother before her. lam doing thii* cfazy thing, as you call It. because it is going to make me rather happy. I shall disappear Monday. They may or they may not suspect who has corne to their aid. They may even trace the thing to you; but you will be honor bound to reveal nothing. When you have taken tip the note, mail it to Annesley. You will find Count Kar ioff's name on it." "Karloff?" I was in utter darkness. "Yes. Annesley borrowed $20,000 of him on a three month's note. Both men are well known at the Union bank, Karloff having a temporary large de posit there, and Annesley always hav ing done his banking at the same place. Karloff, for reasons which I can not tell you, did not turn in the note till this morning. You will take it up this afternoon."' "Annesley, whom I believed io lie a millionaire, penniless; Karloff one of his creditors? Bob, I do not think that you are treating me fairly. I can't go into this thing blind." "If you will not do it under these conditions, I shall have to find some one who will." —resolutely. I looked at the checks and then at him. . . . Twenty-three thousand dollars! It was more than I ever be fore held In my hand at one time. And he was giving it away as carelessly as I should have given away a dime. Then the bigness of the act, the absolute dis interestedness of it, came to me sud denly. "Bob, you are the finest lover in all the world! And if Miss Annesley ever knows who you are, she isn't a woman if she does not fall immediate ly in love with you." I slapped him on the shoulder. I was something of a lover myself, and I could understand. "She will never know. I don't want her to know. That is why I am going away. I want to do a good deed, and be left in the dark to enjoy it. That Is all. After doing this, I could never look her in the eyee as Robert War burton. I shall dine with the folks on Sunday. I shall confess all only to Nancy, who has always been the only confidante I have ever had among the women." There was a pause. I could bring no words to my lips. Finally I stam mered out: "Nancy knows. I told her everything last night. I broke my word with you. Bob, but I could not help it. She was crying again over what she thinks to be your heartlessness. I had to tell her." "What did she say?"—rising abrupt ly. "She laughed, and I do not know when I have seen her look so happy. There'll be a double wedding yet, my boy." I was full of enthusiasm. "I wish I could believe you. Chuck: I wish I could. I'm rather glad you told Nan. I love her, and I don't want her to worry about me." He gripped my hand. "You will do just as I ask?" "To the very letter. Will you have a little Scotch to perk you up a bit? You look rather seedy." "No," —smiling dryly. "If she smelt liquor on my breath I should lose my position. Goodby, then, till Sunday." I did not goto New York that night. I forgot all about going. Instead, I went to Nancy, to whom I still go whenever I am in trouble or in doubt. CHAPTER XXV. A FINE HEROINE TOO. Friday morning. MISs Annesley possessed more than the ordinary amount of force and pow er of will. Though the knowledge of it was not patent to her, she was a phil osopher. She always submitted grace fully to the inevitable. She was re ligious, too, feeling assured that God would provide. She did not go about the house, moaning and weeping; she simply studied all sides of the calam ity, and looked around to see what could be saved. There were moments when she was even cheerful. There were no new lines in her face; her eyes were bright and eager. All per sons of genuine talent look the world confidently in the face; they know ex actly what they can accomplish. As Karloff had advised her, she did not trouble herself about the future. Her violin would support her and her fath er, perhaps in comfortable circum stances. The knowledge of this gave her a silent happiness, that kind which leaves upon the face a serene and beau tiful calm. At this moment .she stood on the ve randa, her hand shading her eyes. She was studying the sky. The afternoon would be clear; the last ride should be a memorable one. The last ride! Tears blurred her eyes and there was a smothering sensation in her throat. The last ride! After to-day Jane would have a new, strange mistress. If only she might goto this possible mistress and tell her how much she loved the animal, to obtain from her the promise that she would be kind to it always. How mysteriously the human heart spreads its tendrils around the object of its love! What is there in the loving of a dog or a horse that, losing one or the other, an emptiness is created? Perhaps it is because the heart goes out wholly without distrust to the faithful, to the undeceiving, to the dumb but loving beast, which, for all Its strength, is so helpless. She dropped her hand and spoke to James, who was waiting near by for her orders. "James, you will have Pierre fill a saddle-hamper; two plates, two knives and forks, and so forth. We shall ride in the north country this afternoon. It will be your last ride. To-morrow the horses will be sold." How bravely she said it! "Yes, Miss Annesley." Whom were they going to meet in the north country? "At what hour shall I bring the horses around?" "At three." She entered the house and directed her steps to the study. She found her CAMERON COUNTY PRESS, THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 27, 1906. father arranging th<* morning's mall. She drew up a chair beside him, and ran through her own letters. An in vitation to lunch with Mrs. Secretary of-State; she tossed it into the waste basket. A dinner-dance at the Country Club, a ball at the Brazilian legation, a tea at the German embassy, a box party at some coming nlay, an in formal dinner at the executive man sion; one by one they (lilttered into the basket. A bill for winter furs, a bill from the dressmaker, one from the milliner, one from the glover, and one from the florist; these she laid aside, reckoning their sum-total, and frown ing. How could she have been so ex travagant? She chanced to look at her father. He was staring, rather stupid ly at a slip of paper which he held in his tre.nbling fingers. "What is it?" she asked, vaguely troubled. "1 do not understand," he said, ex tending the paper for her inspection. Neither did she at first. "Karloff has not done this," went on her father, "for it shows that he has had it discounted at the bank. It is canceled; it is paid. I did not have $20,000 in the bank: I did not have even a quarter of that amount to my credit. There has been some mistake. Our real estate agent expects to realize on the home not earlier than Monday morning. In case it was not sold then, he was to take up the note personally. This is not his work, or I should have been notified." Then, with a burst of grief: "Betty, my poor Betty! How can you forgive me? How can I for give myself?" "Father, I am brave. Let us forget. It will be better so." She kissed his band and drew it lovingly across her cheek. Then she rose and moved toward the light. She studied the note carefully. There was nothing on it save Karloff's writing and her father's and the red imprint of the bank's cancellation. Out of the window and beyond she saw James leading the horses to the watering trough. Her face suddenly grew crimson with shame, and as suddenly as it came the color faded. She folded the note and absently tucked it into the bosom of her dress. Then, as if struck by some strange thought, her figure grew tense and rigid against the blue background of the sky. The glow which stole over her features this time had no shame in it, and her eyes shone like the waters of sunlit seas. It must never be; no it must never be. "We shall make inquiries at the bank," she said. "And do not be down cast, father, the worst is over. What mistakes you have made are forgotten. The future looks bright to me." "Through innocent young eyes the future is ever bright, but as we age we find most of the sunshine OR either side, and we stand in the shadow be tween. Brave heart, I glory In your courage. God will provide for you; He will not let my shadow fall on you. Yours shall be the joy of living, mine shall be the pain. God bless you! I wonder how I shall ever meet your mother's accusing eyes'.'" "Father, you must not dwell upon this any longer , for my' sake you must not. Wh°" everything is paid there will be a lll'Je left, enough till I and my vioHn fir.d something to do. After all, the world's applause must be a fine thing. I can even now see the criticisms in the great newspapers. 'A former young society woman, well known in the fashionable circles of Washington, made her debut as a con cert player last night. She is a stun ning young person.' 'A young queen of the diplomatic circles, here and abroad, appeared in public as a violin ist last night. She is a member of the most exclusive sets, and society was out to do her homage.' 'One of Wash ington's brilliant young horsewomen,' and so forth. Away down at the bot tom of the column, somewhere, they will add that I play the violin rather well for an amateur." In all her trial, this was the one bitter expression, and she was sorry for it the moment it escaped her. Happily her father was not listening. He was wholly absorbed In the mystery of the canceled note. She had mounted Jane and was gath ering up the reins, while James strapped on the saddle-hamper. This done, he climbed into the saddle and signified by touching his cap that all was ready. So they rode forth in tho sweet freshness of that November af ternoon. A steady wind was blowing, the compact white clouds sailed swift ly across the brilliant heavens, the leaves whispered and fluttered, hither and thither, wherever the wind listed: it was the day of days. It was the last ride, and fate owed them the compen sation of a beautiful afternoon. The last ride! Warburton's mouth drooped. Never again to ride with her! How the thought tightened his heart! What a tug it was going to be to give her up! But so it must be. He could never face her gratitude. He must disappear, like the good fairies in the story-books. If he left now, and she found out what he had done, she would always think kindly of him, even ten derly. At twilight, when she took out her violin and played soft measures, perhaps a thought or two would be given to him. After what had hap pened—this contemptible masquerad ing and the crisis through which her father had just passed—it would be impossible for her to love him. She would always regard him with sus picion, as a witness of her innocent shame. He recalled the two wooden plates in the hamper. Whom was she going to meet? Ah, well, what mattered it? After to-day the abyss of eternity would yawn between them. How he loved her! How he adored tho ex> quisite profile, the warm-tinted skin, the shining hair! . . . And he had lost her! Ah. that last ride! Tiio girl wus holding h<*r head high because her heart was full. No more to ride on a bright morning, with tfi» wind rushing past her, bringing the odor of the grasses, of the flowers, of the earth to tingle her nostrtts; no more to follow the hounds on a win ter's day, with the pack baying beyond the hedges, the gay, red-coated riders sweeping down the field; no more to wander through the halls of her moth er's birthplace and her own! Like a breath on a mirror, all was gone. Why? What, had she done to b3 flung down ruthlessly? She, who had been brought up in idleness and luxury, must turn her hands to a living! Without being worldly, she knew the world. Once she apeared upon the stage, she would lose caste among her kind. True, they would tolerate her, but no longer would her voice be heard or her word have weight. Soon she would be tossed about on the whirl-pool and swallowed up. Then would come the haggling with mana gers, long and tiresome journeys, gloomy hotels and Indifferent fare, cu rious people who desired to see the one-time fashionable belle; her por traits would be lithographed and hung up in shop-windows. In questionable resorts, and the privacy so loved by gentlewomen gone; and perhaps there would be insults. And she was only on the threshold of the twenties, the radiant, blooming twenties! During the long ride (for they cov ered something like seven miles) not a word was spoken. The girl was bid ing her time; the man had nothing to voice. They were going through the woods, when they came upon a clear ing through which a narrow brook loi tered or sallied down the incline. She reined in and raised her crop. He was puzzled. So far as he could see, he and the girl were alone. The third person, for whom he reasoned he had brought the second plate, was no where in sight. A flat boulder lay at the side of the stream, and she nodded toward it. Warburton emptied the hamper and spread the cloth on the stone. Then he laid out the salad, the sandwiches, the olives, the almonds, and two sil ver telescope-cups. All the time not a single word from either; Warbur ton, busied with his task, did not lift his eyes to her. The girl had laid her face against Jane's nose, and two lonely tears trailed slowly down her velvety cheeks. Presently he was compelled to look at her and speak. "Everything is ready, Miss." He spoke huskily. The sight of her tears gave him an indescribable agony. She dropped the bridle reins, brushed her eyes, and the sunshine of a smile broke through the troubled clouds. "Mr. Warburton," she said gently, "let us not play any more. I am too sad. Let us hang up the masks, for the comedy is done." [To Be Continued.l Six Muilina of Anpceai. Six maxims he (Jefferson) held to through life as the certain safe guards against degeneracy in his art, and if he bequeath nothing more than these to his children he will have given them an inheritance worth mora than money and the magic name that he leaves, says the New York Amer ican. These maxims read as follows: "The surest way to score a failure Is to imitate some one else." "Never act to or at your audience. Always act for them." "Never try to gauge the intelligence cf your audience by the price of the seats." "Always keep the promise you make to the public." "Always do the things you can do best." "No lasting success can be gained If any tiling of vulgarity or impurity is permitted to tarnish a performance." Where Life la I <on|[. Senator Tillman and a colleague were discussing the question of the salubriousness of various sections of the country. "Well," said Mr. Till man, "if the healthfulness of a region is indicated by the mere longevity of its inhabitants, then I think that Asheville, North Carolina, must have the palm. As an illustration of how long-lived the people are thereabouts we Carolinians are fond of telling this story: "A visitor from the north asked an old gentleman where he was born and how old he was. The old chap re plied: 'I was born here in Asheville. and am 70 years old.' 'Oh! exclaimer' the Yankee, 'as you appear to be a hale and hearty as a man of 40, I'v< no doubt you'll live to a ripe old age How old was your father when h died?" "'Father dead!' said the old mac looking surprised, 'Father Isn't dead He's upstairs putting grandfather t bed!'" —Success Magazine. Wanted All Co mint*. At the cafe where I ate my flrsi 'Frisco meal the bill of fare adver tised string beans. I ordered them The waiter brought, me some beans of the string variety, but the strings had been removed. "Waiter," I said, "are these string beans?" "They are," he replied. "But where are the strings?" I de manded, sternly. "The strings! Good Lord, man, da you want the strings?" asked the wait er. "I do" replied I; "and you can trot right back and get them. I have beeh told that San Francisco people would try to string me, but I don't propose that they shall string my beans. I want all that is coming to me." The waiter was equal to the emer gency.. In about five minutes he served the strings on the side. —Port lan<j Oregouiao. j Balcom & Lloyd. 1 1 ================ jf I i n, WE have the best stocked [j] H general store in the couDty and if you are looking for re- | g liable goods at reasonable jl B prices, we are ready to serve J* you with the best to be found. 9 p Our reputation for trust- j| H worthy goods and fair dealing H 0 is too well known to sell any Hi S but high grade goods. || | Our stock of Queensware and jf ffi Ohinaware is selected with B II great care and we have some L ffl of the most handsome dishes 1 gj ever shown in this section, j* : H both in imported and domestic 1 gfj makes. We invite you to visit us and look our goods over. 9 11 I 1 11 | ======== I | Balcom & Lloyd, j l| LOOK ELSEWHERE BUT DON'T FORGET j! |i THESE PRICES AND FACTS AT I LaBAR'S 1 M -11 —JL. i? 14 * H M We carry in stock j . i fcjj the largest line of Car- _ .ggagggggai j Hg pets, Linoleums and nsgjg*]l9? h ] £3 Mattings of all kinds vjf IkK|ss|||W r? ever brought to this!* * M town. Also a big line * i SS of samples. lijiß |j jj * A very large line ot FOR THE BSfgf *< 112 Lace Curtains that can- _ M n x r e e fo"The , pHce auy COMFORTABLE LODGING I Art Squares and of fine books in a choice library Rugs of all sizes and select the Ideal pattern of Globe- P4 kind, front the cheap- Wernicke "Elastic" Bookcase. 3^4 p4 est to the best. Furnished with bevel French M M plate or leaded glass doors. M Dining Chairs, | «>« oah »« I g* || Rockers and GEO. J. LaBAR, ** fcg High Chairs. Sole Agent for Cameron County. fcj| I I A large and elegant «—————— K line of Tufted and 14 Drop-head Couches. Beauties and at bargain prices, j # M|3o Bedroom Suits, COC S4O Sideboard, quar- tfQfi 4 m solid oak at tered cak 4)OU ** J; J$ 28 Bedroom Suits, CO I |32 Sideboard, quar- COE Pf solid oak at 3)ZI tered oak $25 Bed room Suits, COfl Is*2 Sideboard, quar- CIC solid oak at 4)ZU I tered oak, «PlO j||| >4 A large line of Dressers from I Chiffoniers of all kinds and M £ijg $S up. all prices. fc# M r *4 kg The finest line of Sewing Machines on the market, k* || the "DOMESTIC" and "ELDRIEGE.' All drop- J j heads and warranted. h A fine line of Dishes, common grade and China, in *2 sets and by the piece. M *4 AS I keep a full line of everything that goes to £4 M make up a good Furniture store, it is useless to enum- 14 M erate them all. ... 14 M Please call and see for yourself that lam telling fcg fcg you the truth, and if you don't buy, there is no harm H done, as it is no trouble to show goods. ii GEO. J .LaBAR. TJKTDER.TAK.IKrG. *4
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers