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!! The Real II
]| Nan
I ! By ,
I FRANCIS LYRDE |
I 1 nill!tin w iwn imas I <
Copyright by Ch.iA Scriimer's Scat
(Continued)
"All right. A little while past din
ner this evening, Stanton had a hurry
call to meet the 'Xevada Flyer."
Tailed onto the train there was a
private luxury car, and in the pri
vate car sat a gentleman whose face
you've seen plenty of times in the
political cartoons, usually with cuss
words under it. He is one of Stan
ton's bosses; and Stanton was in for
a wigging—and got it. X couldn't
hear, but I could see—through the 1
car window. He had Stanton stand
ing on one foot before the
pulled out and let Crawford make
his get-away. Tou guess, and I'll
guess, and we'll both say it was j
about this Escalante snap which isi
aiming to be known as the Escal- ;
ante mine. Ain't it the truth?"
Again Smith nodded, an 4 said.
"Go on."
"After number five had gone
Stanton broke for his autocab. look
ing like he could bite a nail in two.
I happened to hear the order he
gave the shover. and I had my cay
use hitched over at Bob Sharkey's
joint. Naturally, I ambled along af
ter Crawford, and while I didn't
beat him to it, I got there soon
enough. It was out at JeS Barton's
roadhouse on the Topai trail, and
Stanton was shut up in the back
rcom with a sort of tin-horn 'bad
n.an' named Lanterby."
"You listened?" said Smith still
without eagerness.
"Right you are. And they fooled
m. Two schemes were on tap; one
ponting at Williams and the dam,
and the other at you. These were
both 'last resorts' Stanton said he had
more string to pull first. If that
broke —well, I've said it half a dozen
times already, John; you'll either
have to hire a bodyguard or go heel
ed. I'm telling you right here and
now, that bunch is going to get you,
even if it costs money!"
"You say Stanton said he had
one more string to pull; he didn't
give it a name, did he?"
"No. but I've got a notion of my
own," was the ready answer. "He's
trying to get next to you through the
women, with the Miss Rich-pasture
for his can opener. But when every
thing else fails, he is to send a pass
word to Lanterby. one of two pass
words. "Williams' means dynamite
and the dam; 'Jake' means the re
moval from the map of a fellov
named Smith. Nice prospect, isn't
it?"
Smith was jabbing his paper knife
gently into the desk blotter. "And
vet we go on calling this a civilized
country!" he said meditatively. Then
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1 J
308 MARKET STREET
FRIDAY EVENING,
Bringing Up Father Copyright, 1917, International News Service ■ *— —*• m l m By McM
C. ) 1 (r.,3 "trow j~ WHO BROKE ] ° >N, =
£ -—4F— OP MIR n rv I S TUCCP XOUR BE C/\REFUL
x IMITT"b- GLOBEL_ JAvV ,_ V YOU'RE
|well
with a sudden change of front: "I'm j
in this fight to stay until I win out
or die out, Billy; you know that. As i
I have said, Miss Verda can kill me!
off if she chooses to; but she won't l
choose to. Now let's get to work. It's
pretty late to route a justice of the j
peace out of bed to issue a warrant j
for us, but we'll do it. Then we'll go j
after Lanterby and make him turn
state's evidence. Come on; let's get
busy."
But Starbuck, reaching softly for!
a chair-righting handhold upon
Smith's desk, made no reply. Instead
he snapped his lithe body out of the i
chair and launched it in a sudden
tiger spring at the door, which j
should have been latched, came in
at Starbuck's wrenching jerk of the
knob, bringing with it. hatless, and
with the breath startled out of him.
the new stenographer, Shaw.
"There's your state's evidence."
said Starbuck grimly, pushing the
half-dazed listener into a chair. "Just
put the auger a couple of inches into
this fellow and see what you can
find."
Richard Shaw had an exceedingly
bad quarter of an hour when Smith
and Starbuck applied the thumb-'
screws to force a confession out of
him. Nevertheless, knowing the dan
gerous ground upon which he stood,
he evaded and suffled and prevari
cated under the charges and ques
tionings until it became apparent
that nothing short of bribery or phy
sical torture would get the truth out
of him. Smith was not willing to of-,'
fer the bribe, and since the literal
thumbscrews were out of the ques-1
tion. Shaw was locked into one of
the vacant rooms across the corridor
until his captors could determine)
what was to be done with him.
"That is one time when I fired and ;
missed the whole side of the barn," !
Starbuck admitted, when Shaw had;
been remanded to the makeshift cell
across the hall. "I know that fellow
is on Stanton's pay roll: and it's rea- !
sonably certain that he got his job
with you so that he could keep cases
on you. But we can't prove anything!
that we say, so long as he refuses to j
talk."
"No." Smith agreed. "I can dis
charge him, and that's about all that
can be done with him."
"He is a pretty smooth article,"
said Starbuck reflectively. "He used
to be a clerk in Maxwell's railroad
office, and he was mixed up in some
kind of crookedness, I don't remem
ber just what."
Smith caught quickly at the sug
gestion.
"Wait a minute, .Billy," he broke
in: and then: "There's no doubt in
your mind that he's a spy?"
"Sure he is," was the prompt re
joinder.
"I was just thinking—he has heard
what was said here to-night—which
is enough to give Stanton a pretty
good chance to outfigure our outfit
again."
"Right you are."
"In which case it would be little
short of idiotic in us to turn him
loose. We've got to hold him, proof
or no proof. Where would we be
apt to catch Maxwell at this time of
night?"
"At home and in bed. I reckon."
"Call him upon the phone and
state the case briefly. Tell him if he
has any nip on Shaw that would
warrant us in turning him over to
the sheriff, we'd like to know it."
"You're getting the range now."
laughed the ex-cowman, and instead
of using the desk set. he went to shut
himself into the sound-proof tele
phone closet.
When he emerged a few minutes
later he was grinning exultantly.
"That was sure smooth one of yours,
John. Dick gave me the facts. Shaw's
a thief; but he has a sick sister on
his hands—or said he had—and the
railroad didn't prosecute. Dick says
for us to jug him to-night and to
morrow morning he'll swear out the
necessary papers."
"Good. We'll do that first; and
then we'll go after this fellow Lan
terby. I want to get Stanton where I
can pinch him. Billy; no, there's
nothing personal about it; but when
a great corporation like the Esca
lante Land Company gets down to
plain anarchy and dynamiting, it's
time to make somebody sweat for It.
Let's go and get Shaw."
Together they went across the cor
ridor, and Smith unlocked the door
HAKRISBURG TELEGRAPH
of the disused room. The light switch
was on the door jamb and Starbuck
found and pressed the button. The
single incandescent bulb hanging
from the ceiling sprang alive—and
showed the two men at the door an
empty room and an open window.
The bird had flown.
Starbuck was grinning again when
he went to look out of the window.
The roof of the adjoining building
was only a few feet below the sill
level, and there was a convenient fire
escape ladder leading to the ground.
"It's us for that roadhouse out on
the Topaz trail before the news gets
around to Stanton and Lanterby," he
said definitely; and they lost no time
in securing an auto for the dash.
But that, too, proved to be a fiasco.
When they reached Barton's all
night place on the hill road, the bar
was still open and a card game was
running in an upstairs room. Star
buck did the necessary cross-ques
tioning of the dog-faced bartender.
"You know me. Pug, and what I
can do to you if 1 have to. We want
Hank Lanterby. Pitch out and show
us where."
The barkeeper threw up one
as if he were warding; off a blow.
"You c'd have him in a holy minute,
for all o' me, Blly; you sure could,"
he protested. "But he's gone."
"On the level?" snapped Starbuck.
"That's straight; I wouldn't lie to
you, Billy. Telephone call came from
town a little spell ago and he got
outa bed t' answer it. He borra'd
Barton's mare an' faded inside of a
pair o' minutes."
"Which way?" demanded the ques
tioner.
"I" the hills; leastways he ain't
headin' f'r town when he breaks
from here."
Starbuck turned to Smith with a
wry smile.
"Shaw beat us to It and he scores
on us." he said. "We may as well
hike back, 'phone Williams to keep
his eye on things up at the dam, and
go to bed. There'll be nothing more
doing to-night."
CHAPTER XVI.
At Any Cost.
With all things moving favorably
for Timanyoni High Line up to the
night of fiascos, the battle for the
great water-right seemed to take a
sudden slant against the local pro
moters, after the failure to cripple
Stanton by the attempt to suppress
two of his subordinates. Early the
next day there were panicky rumors
in the air, none of them traceable to
any definite starting point.
One of the stories was to the effect
that the Timanyoni dam had faulty
foundations and that the haste in
building had added to its insecurity.
On the heels of this came clamorous
court petitions from ranch owners
below the dam site, setting forth the
flood dangers to which they were ex
posed and praying for an injunction
to stop the work.
That this was a new move on Stan
ton's part neither Smith nor Still
ings questioned for a moment; but
they no sooner got the nervous
ranchmen pacified by giving an in
demnity bond for any damage that
might be done, than other rumors
sprang up. For one day and yet an
other Smith fough mechanically, de
veloping the machlnellke doggedness
To Be Continued.
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|- „ 46 44
"The Insider"
By Virginia Terhune Van de Water
CHAPTER LX
Copyright, 1917, Star Company
Like a ghost I crept downstairs.
The front door was bolted, and I un
fastened it carefully. Nervousness
and oppression caused by the heat
made me breathe quickly. I felt that
I would smother if I did not get
out of the house.
As I stepped upon the veranda I
drew a long sigh. The night air was
heavy with fragrance, but it was not
nearly as hot here as it was upstairs,
i I had not brought a wrap with me,
and a delicious coolness struck my
bare throat where my negligee was
open.
I started to take a chair upon the
veranda, then I hesitated. It was
here that I had made that half prom
ise this afternoon, the promise tha,t
! my companion had told me harshly
ihe knew would bind me. I suddenly
I hated the chairs in which he and I
j-had been seated at the time. I
i wanted to get away from the scene.
| Impulsively I hurried down the
1 front steps, then turned toward the
lend of the house at which the orch
• ard was, and where stood the bench
' on which Tom and I had sat on my
I first evening at Hillcrest. It was
| under the nursery windows, and I
' reflected, as I had on that other oc
j easion, that I was near enough to
Grace to hear her should she call.
I Seating myself upon the bench, I
I leaned against the old apple tree that
grew against it. A gentle breeze was
[rising and every little while an ap
| pie from one of the trees in the orch
ard would drop to the ground with a
dull thud. The fruit was not yet
ripe, I knew. My employer had told
me that some of the trees seemed to
have a disease this year, causing
their fruit to fall before it had reach
ed perfection.
"I must have a specialist come and
look the orchard over before next
year," he had observed. "It's a pity
to see an apple that might be per
fect falling while it's yet green. It
makes one sorry for it—as if it could
feel and be disappointed at its fate."
He had smiled when he said it. I
could not smile now as I recalled
his speech. He could be whimsically
\ sorry for an inanimate piece of fruit.
It did not occur to him to be sorry
| for a girl who might marry a man
j old enough to be her father, whom
I she did not love.
But I had been fond of him —was
1 fond of him yet, of course. He was
1 very good to me. Surely I had once
fancied I could be happy with him.
What had made such a change re
cently? I know to-night, as never
1 before, that I did not love him—
j that the hope I once had of loving
him was feeble now.
A Faint Sound
' A faint sound made me start and
lean forward. It was the cautious
opening of the front screendoor. This
door always creaked if opened slow
ly. Was somebody coming out? There
could be nobody going in. for all the
family were in their various rooms'.
I was not frightened. I only sat
listening. My sole fear was that my
employer might have come down
stairs and, finding the heavy front
door open, would search for the per
son who had come out. I would sit
still until I heard him go down the
steps and walk on the gravel path
toward the gate of the garden. Then
I would slip in noiselessly and return
to my room.
I had reached this decision when
I saw a figure coming through the
orchard. In spite of the darkness
of the night the flashes of lightning,
which were almost incessant, showed
me who it was. It was Hugh Parker,
and the same illumination that had
enabled me to discern him had re
vealed to him my white-clad figure
outlined against the dark background
of the treetrunk behind me. He
came straight to me.
"Why!" he exclaimed. "You out
here, and all alone?"
"Yes," I said, in a low voice, "it
was so hot Indoors that I could not
breathe. So I came out here. I
thought you were all fast asleep, and
that nobody would know of my rash
ness."
"May I sit down here by you and
get a bit cool, too?" he asked.
Then, as I made room for him be
side me, he added, "We're going to
have a big shower soon. The wind
is rising. Are you sure you are not
chilly?" *
"Ouite sure," I told him.
"Wait a minute," he ordered, "I'll
be right back."
He left me for a moment, and re
turned, bearing a light shawl.
"I happened to remember seeing
this in the hammock on the veranda
this afternoon," he remarked. "Here
it is if you need it."
"Thank you," I rejoined, "but I
don't need it just now."
He sat down again, and there was
a silence, but not an awkward one.
Somehow I never felt 111 at ease with
this man.
"I heard you come out of the house
a few minutes ago." I said, presently.
A Strange Sound
"Oh. no, you didn't." he smiled,
"for I have just come home from a
i walk. Tom and I went right outi
after supper, you know. We had a
swim about an hour ago, then he
came on home and I strolled across
the fields down below there, watch
ing the cloud effects on the hori
zon."
"But I heard the screen door open
only a short time ago," I insisted.
"I am sure I did."
"It was probably somebody going
into the house—Mr. Norton, per
haps," he said, easily.
"It was not," I insisted. "I heard
him go to his room a good while ago.
If I hadn't I wouldn't have come"—
I got as far as this before I rea
lized the admission I was nearly
making, and stopped confusedly.
"What were you K°tng to say?"
Hugh demanded. "Do you mean
that you did not want him to know
you were here because you did not
want to"
He paused. "Yes," I said, steadily.
"I wanted to be alone."
"Then" —he started to his feet. "I
ought not"
I laid my hand on his arm. "Please
stay!" I begged. "I only meant I did
not want Mr. Norton to come out
here. You are different. I am glad
you are here."
"Why?" he asked with a direct
ness that compelled a truthful an
swer.
"Because," I replied bluntly, "you
are sane and normal. And I am not!"
(To Be Continued)
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North Market Square
JUNE 15,1917.
i Fashions of To-Day - By May Manton*
945° Slip-Over Blouse, 34 to 42 bust.
Price 15 cents.
The blouse that is slipped on
over the head without any
closing is, without doubt, one
of the most fashionable. This
is a very pretty model and also
it is an exceptionally practical
model because you can make
it as it is here or sleeveless,
without the pockets and band,
and cut a little shorter to be
an over-blouse and give no
hint whatsoever of the model
illustrated. Wool jersey is the
material shown here and it is
trimmed with a striped silk to
be very pretty and attractive
but you can get the same color
effect by using linen or cotton
gabardine or material of such
sort, if you prefer it.
For the medium size will be
needed, 3% yards of material
36 or 44 inches wide with
yards 36 inches wide for the
trimming.
The pattern No. 9450 is cut
in sizes from 34 to 42 inches
bust measure. It will be mailed
to any address by the Fashion
Department of this paper on
receipt of fifteen cents.
9