i"THE INSIDER"! ♦ L J * • CHAPTER XXVII Mr. Brewster Norton did not ac company me uptown. After putting ine into a taxicab he explained that lie had an errand to attend to, and would take the subway home. I.eaning back comfortably In the cab. I was glad that my epiployer iad the tact not to appear at his house in my company. It might have caused comment from Mrs. Gore or the servants had he done this. I felt thoroughly satisfied with the result of tuy conversation of the past hour. 1 had kept my promise to Tom. I would not tell the lad yet. for I did not want him to know that his father and I had met at the Waldorf, since Mr. Norton had not intimated to his sister-in-law that we were to do this. The slight duplicity made me a bit uncomfortable, yet 1 could not go be yond Mr. Norton's wishes. And, after all. whose business was it? This question was one that I put to myself often during my sojourn in the home of Mr. Brewster Norton. Grace was still at the supper table in the dining room when Julia opened the front door for me. As the child heard mv voice, she ran out into the hall. "Goody! goody!" she exclaimed. "You're back home!" "Yes, dear. I am," I said as I kissed her. "Have you finished your supper?" "I'm just through," she informed me. "Don't you want some?" 1 recalled Mr. Norton's declaration that 1 was to dine with the family to-night. I did not care to do this. 1 feared that Mrs. Gore's suspicions might be aroused if, on top of the mysterious "business" on which 1 had gone, I were to accede to her brother in-law's request and appear at dinner without her having been informed that I was to do so. But I did not want to face my employer and refuse to do his bidding. "I am not hungry," I told Grace truthfully as we went upstairs. Mrs. Gore was in the door of her room and heard this statement. "But you must eat something," she argued. "You have had nothing since luncheon." One Admission "I had a cup of tea while I was out," I said without pausing to con sider the effect of this admission. "Oh, did you!" The exclamation was indicative of strong surprise. "I thought you would have time only for the matter my brother wish ed attended to. Where did you get your tea?" "At a restaurant," I replied. I fancied that she looked after me suspiciously as I went on upstairs with Grace. Although I talked while I helped the little girl to undress, my mind was busy with the information I had thoughtlessly given Mrs. Gore. Why had I been off my guard to such an extent? She had remembered that Mr. Norton had said the "business" I was to attend to for him would take ft all my time. How, then, was I able to stop for a cup of tea? My mistake strengthened me in my resolution not to dine downstairs to night. Were I to appear at the family board after my indiscreet speech, Mrs. Gore might jump at the conclusion that I hail seen >lr. Norton this after noon and that he had asked me to come down to dinner. As I heard the front door close I hastened Grace's preparations for bed. A tap at the door made me start. Maggie stood there, a covered tray in her hand. "Mrs. Gore has sent you up your supper. Miss Dart, as you wasn't in when Mtss Grace had hers. If you're not rea4y for it yet I'll take it back to the kitchen and keep it hot for I you." "No, indeed," I told her: "you can put it in my room, please." I had not stopped to remove my! hat and jacket before getting GriiPe i into bed. Now, as I drew the cov- j ers up over her, 1 spoke slowly and i distinctly: "Listen, dear. I am going into my j own room to change my street dress for a house gown. As I shall be busy, 1 would rather not be disturbed. Will you remember that?" A Useless Precaution "Yes," she agreed. "And I will not call you." "Not unless you need me very j much," I supplemented. "Rut if you do really need me, call me." "I will," she promised. Then, as I heard her father's step in the upper hall, I kissed her good night and slipped into my room, clos ing the door softly but tightly. The little girl obeyed my instruc tions. Ten minutes later, when I had donned a comfortable house gown and was about to seat myself at my table before my rapidly cooling supper, 1 heard Mr. Norton say as he left the j nursery: "Good-night, little daughter. I sup pose Miss Dart is in her room? i! want to speak to her." I held my breath anxiously and drew a sigh of relief as my small charge informed her father that Miss Dart had "gone to her room to change her dress and must not be disturbed." "Oh, she mustn't, eh?" the man in quired with a laugh. "All right then!" Five minutes after he had gone downstairs, there was a knock at my door, and Julia entered. "Please, ma'am, Mr. Norton sent me up to say that he would like you to come down to dinner with him I and Mrs. Gore," the girl announced. ' I had foreseen 4his situation, and I had my answer ready. "Thank Mr. Norton. Julia," I order-! Ed, "and say that I have had my din-1 ner. Mrs. Gore kindly sent it up to! me some time ago." The girl smiled. "Yes'm. But Mr. i Norton didn't know that." "I suppose not," I rejoined. "By the way, thank Mrs. Gore for her! thoughtfulness, please. Julia." "Yes'm," I will," she said. There was a shrewd smile on the maid's face. It made me wonder what she i jff was thinking of. (To lte continued) SATURDAY EVENING, The Scribb Family— They Live Right I!WTi!VrtWFvIl ~AWET fld I 1 ®Na 'post I w'u NEVEI? W T*'T Zl-'X-L, —i NOTHING* —, |; IM PLANTIH A tiAPPtN I GO T0 MfKET ANVMOIfc— ! ; ; -i-i-nr- 1 —. j FOP?? ' *(TH TWS WPKN, I -J z; z; lA] mqw d no, 1 - i JI)ST J | A % r -°) V? ii? 7 sar 5 ® , " >v" — 5 • Vx § II i 111 liPf ! '''i^^^i! '• I ' x # ■ ' ! 1 I Nan ef I | Music I I Mountain 1 _ _ ; | Er | i Y FRANK H. SPEARMAN J | Author of "WHISPERING SMITH" '£ Y J , Y ! (Copj rlgbt bv Cfc" Scibn-ir't Sor.> (Continued) SYNOPSIS. CHAPTER I—On Frontier day at Sleepy Cat. Henry de Spain, gunman and train master at Medicine Bend, is beaten at i target shooting by Nan Morgan of Music ( Mountain. Jeffries, division superinten dent. asks De Spain to take charge of the Thief River stage line, but he refuses. CHAPTER ll—De Spain sees Nan danc ing with Gale Morgan, Is later derisively pointed out to Nan on the street by Gale, ai&J is moved to change his mind and ac cept the stage line Job. CHAPTER III—De Spain and Eefever ride to Calabasas inn and there meet Gale Morgan with Deaf Sandusky and Bassoon, gunmen rind retainers of the Morgan clan. Morgan demands the dis charge of a stage driver and De Spain re fuses. De Spain meets Nan but fails to overcome her aversion to him. CHAPTER IV—Sassoon knifes Elpaso, the stage driver, and escapes to Morgan's gap, the stronghold of the Morgans. De Spain. Lefever and Scott go in after him, and De Spain brings out Sasson alone. CHAPTER V—He meets Nan, who de lays him until nearly overtaken by the Morgans, but lands his captive in Jail. CHAPTER Vl—Sassoon breaks Jail. De Spain beards the Morgans in a saloon and is shot at through the window. He meets Nan again. CHAPTER VII—He prevents her going Into a gambling hall to find her Uncle Duke and Inside faces Sandusky and Lo gan, who prudently decline to fight at the time. CHAPTER VIII—De Spain, anxious to make peace with Nan. arranges a little plan with McAlpln, the barn man, to i drive lier out to Morgan's gap, and while waiting for her goes down to the Inn to 1 get a cup of coffee. De Spain looked now shamelessly at his ready-witted aid. "See that her pony is lame when she sets here— can't be ridden. But you'll take good eare of him and send him home in I a few days—get it?" MeAlpin half closed his eyes. "He'll be so lame it would stagger a cowboy to back him ten feet—and never be I hurt a mite, neither. Trust me!" "If she insists on riding something, | or even walking home," continued Dt! Spain dubiously, for he felt instlne j tively that he should have the task ol his life to induce Nan to accept an> ! kind of a peace-ofTering. "I'll ride 01 walk with her anyway. Can you sieej : me here tonight, on the hay?" "Sleep you on a hair mattress, sir You've got a room right here upstairs; didn't you know that?" With arrangements so begun, D< Spain walked out of doors and looker reflectively up the Sleepy Cat road. One further refinement in his appeal for Nan's favor suggested itself. She would be hungry, possibly faint in the heat and dust, when she arrived. Ht! returned to MeAlpin: "Where can 1| get a good cup of coffee when the i stage conies in?" "Go right down to the inn, sir. It's a new chap running it—a half-witted man from Texas. My wife is cooking there off and on. She'll fix you up u sandwich and a cup of good coffee." It was four o'clock, and the sun bestj ' fiercely on the desert. De Spain walked down to the inn unmindful of the heat. In summer rig, with his soft-shirt col j lar turned under, his forearms bare, and his thoughts engaged, he made his way rapidly on, looking neither to the right nor the left. As he approached the weather-beaten pile it looked no more inviting in sun shine than it had looked in shadow; and, true to its traditions, not a living being was anywhere to be seen. The door of the oflice stood ajar. De Spain, pushing it all the way open, walked in. ■ No one greeted him as he crossed thg threshold, and the unsightly room was still bare of furnishings except for the bjir, with its two broken mirrors. | De Spain pounded on the bar. His effort to attract attention met with no i response. lie walked to the left end of the bar. lifted the handrail that Inclosed the space behind it. and i pushed opeu the door between the mlr | rors leading to the l ack room. This, too, was empty. He tv.lled out—there i was no response Mrs. MeAlpin had apparently gone horn? for a while. Irritated at the desertion of the place, due, he afterward learned, to the heat of the t.ff rru,on, and disap pointed at the frii.-: ration of his pur pose, he walked back to the oflice. As he lifted the handrail and, passing through, lowered it briiind him, he took out his watch to see how soon the stage was due. While he held the time piece in his hand he heard u rapid clatter of hoofs a;aching the place. Thinking it might be Scott and Lefe ver arriving from the south an hour ahead of time, he -rafted toward the | front door —which was still open—to 1 greet them. Our<> hurried footsteps reached the door just ahead of him and a large mm, stepping quickly into the room, confront '■ 1 Spain. One of the man's hands rested lightly on his right side. I> * Spain recognized him instantly; the rniull, dropping head, carried well firwurd, the keen eyes, the loud-potr i i shabby waist 'coat proclaimed beyond doubt- , ; Sandusky. CHAPTER IX. The Button. Even as the big follow stepped light !ly just inside and to the left—as De Spain stood—of tie door and faced him, the encounter seemed to De Spain accidental. But before he could speak, a second man appeared in the door way, and this man appeared to be jok ing with a third, behind hint. As the second man crossed the threshold, De Spain saw Sandusky's high-voiced little fighting crony, Logan, who now made way, as he stopped within to the right of the open door, for the swing- I ing shoulders and roiling stride of Gale Morgan. Morgan, eying Do Spain wltl) Inso lence, as was his wont, closed the door behind him with a bang. Then he backed his powerful frame significant ly against it. A blind man could have seen the completeness of the snare. An unpleas ant feeling flaslipd across De Spain's perception. It was only for the Ira | measurable part of a second—while i uncertainty w .s resolving itself Into a rapid certainty. When Gale Morgan stepped Into the room on the heels of his two Calabasas friends, De Spain j would have sold for less than a cup j of coffee all his chances for life. Nev i ertlieless, before Morgan had set liis HARRISBURG TELEGRAPH back fairly against tne door ami the' trap was sprung, De Spain had mapped his fight. He did not retreat from where he halted at the instant Sandusky entered. His one slender chance was to hug to the men that meant to kill him. Mor gan, the nearest, he esteemed the least dangerous of the three; but to think to escape both Sandusky and Logan j at close quarters was, he knew, more than ought to be hoped for. While Morgan was closing the door, De Spain smiled nt his visitors: "That isn't necessary, Morgan—l'm not ready to run." Morgan only continued to; stare at him. "I need hardly ask." j added De Spain, "whether you fellows have business with me?" He looked to Sandusky for a reply; it was Logan who answered in shrill falsetto: "Xo. We don't happen to have business that I know of. A friend of ours may have a little, may. be!" Logan, lifting liis shoulders with his laugh, looked toward his compan ions for an answer to his joke. De Spain's smile appeared unruffled: I "You'll help him transact it, I sup pose?" Logan, looking again toward San dusky, grinned: "lie won't need any help." "Who is your friend?" demanded De! Spain good-naturedly. Logan's glance misled him; it did not refer to San* dusky. And even as he asked the ques tion De Snain heard through the half open window at the end of the bat the sound of hoofs. Hoping against hope for Lefever, the interruption cheered him. It certainly did not seem that his situation could be made worse,' "Well," answered Logn, talking; again to his gallery of cronies, "we've got two or thre.> friends that want to see yoA. They're waiting outside to i see what you'll look like in about live minutes—ain't they. Gale?" Someone was moving within the reai room. De Spain felt hope In every footfall he hoard, and the mention ol Morgan's name cleared his plan oi battle. Before Gale, with an onth, | could blurt out his answer, De SpaiD 1 had resolved to fight, whore lie stood, j taking Logon first, and Morgan as he i should jump In between (hp two. II was at the best a hopeless venture against Sandusky's first shot, which i De Spain knew was almost sure tc I reach a vital spot. Hut desperate men I cannot be choosers. "There's ro time for seeing me like ! the present," declared De Spain, ignor> j ing Morgan and addressing his words j to Logan. "Bring your friends in.! What are you complaining about, Mor- j gon / he asked, resenting the stream j of abuse that Gale hurled at him when-1 ever he could get a word in. "I had ! my turn at ycu with a rifle the other j day. You've got your turn now. And j I call it a pretty soft one, too—aou'l ' jou, Sandusky?" he demanded sud- j denly of the big fellow. Sandusky alone through the talk had | kept an unbroken silence. He was eating up De Spain with his eyes, and ! I'e Spain not only ached to hear him speak, but was resolved to make him. I Sandusky had stood motionless from the instant he entered the room. His ! eyes rested Intently on De Spain, and at his side the long fingers of his right hand beat a soft tattoo against his pistol holster. De Spain's question seemed to arouse him. "What's your name?" he demanded bluntly. His \olce was heavy and his deafness was reflected In the strained tone. (To Be Continued) THIS IS AGE OF OPPORTUNITY "What Right Has a Father or a Mother to Deprive a Girl of the Opportunities Given to the Boy—a Chance of Financial Independence and the Knowledge From Childhood That His Work Is Not Outside of His Life BY MRS. WILSON WOODROW "oh, yes: this is the age of oppor tunity for woman, I grant you. But her problem of life still is harder to solve than man's," I cried. I was having an argument with Roger, a lawyer friend of mine. He had just been telling me of a ease where his adversary was a Woman, and he was commenting on the abil ity with which she had conducted her client's cause. His approval irritated me. It was so patronizing. It made me think of Dr. Johnson —it-was Dr. Johnson, wasn't it?—who, when some one told him of an eloquent woman preacher, said it reminded him of a dancing dog. It was not remarkable that the dog could dance well, but that he could dance at all. "Now, don't pull any of that sob sister stuff on me," Roger answered. He never allows his cultivation to check the vigor or conciseness of his expression, and slang, he declares, is what keeps the language growing. "Sob-sister fiddlesticks!" I retorted. "In the race of life a man gets all the favors from the official liandicap per." "Not If the class Is there, to use your vernacular," he came back at niej "by which I mean that given equal ability tlie chances are even." "Far from it," I insisted. "As a matter of fact and not of opinion, the chances are not even. And that is no sob-sister wail. It is a plain indict ment of parents. "A boy baby is born into the world endowed with a definite future. A girl baby's dowry is any old thing that fate may hand ® • m • I Enlist | | OIN the great army of satis i*' fied "Dial" phone users. NOW is the time to act so that we may be able to list you in j © our new directory which will ™ I be issued about 'April 20th. £ Always use the "Dial"—it's quickest— surest —best. (Cumberland Valley Telephone Company of Pa. • | ' 227 Walnut Street DAILY DOT PUZZLES 2° - ~=l-V- 2I * ' 8 .1 7 , 2 . 4 / 9 * 4 , 5 ' - *• --Tf .? ) fe-T f & 3Z t J. r/ i rjH 37. ' 30, *4o 38 ' X ly useless daughters and then die without having made provision for them they are no better than the peo ple who go away in the summer and leave the cat on the doorstep to fend for itself. "To the parental vision the darling little girl winds up a happy girlhood by marrying a well-to-do young man with an agreeable disposition and a growing business. The two establish a lovely home, and dear little children cluster about. They move 011 to serene old age untroubled by tlio cyclones and earthquakes of life. "How many \T>ung women realize this picture? Let (is err wildly on the sille of optimism, and say one i;j tern Then what about the other nine? "Parents apparently refuse to learn that there is something Infinitely ftner than sentimentality, and that is common sense. "What right has a father or a mother to deprive a girl of the oppor tunities given to the boy—a chance of financial independence and the knowledge from childhood that, his work is not outside of his life, but part .of it. and that 'hroughout life lie shall find in that work his main interest, enthusiasm and joy? Slight Slurry "I believe this lack of prepared ness on the part of parents lies in a certain subconscious and canny thriftiness. Why waste time and money on the technical education of a girl when she will probably marry and never use it, the money invested in her career thus standing as a dead loss? In the light of such reasoning, father and mother ruefully consider that they can spend the money to bet ter advantage, and have more fun. "What they fail to recognize is that by making their daughter self-sup porting and independent they not only provide tor every eventuality but also largely increase her chances for a harmonious and happy mar riage. She is free to wait for and ac cept the right man. "The old haphazard method of bringing up girls is charming. This is one of the very plain signs of the times. To-day many up-to-date moth ers are carefully studying the tastes and inclinations of their daughters, and are helping map out courses of practical instruction in the occupa tions their girls desire to pursue. "Waiting! Waiting to see what happens to them! That is what wom en have done for centuries, and thc> are tired of it. They are finding it far more satisfying and exhilarating to build their own futures than to have to accept one of fate's cold liand-outs at life's back door." 5