EET | Love ACTITANCe! rm A ¥ ; t i 8 a E £2 i a lites ( i Wt BMG t ¥ i " il J i: HAM n MACEDO BoAaliiy EGU LIA STO BALDPATE | Copyr ! » Bobbs=Merrill ny Le I —— - = a — = Lead. *1 leave ti weed.” wer. He gave her lis chair und drew up another for himself. «Mr. Minot,” she said, “1 was ter- ribly thot s this noon. But you | must forgive me—I was so excited. Mr. | Minot—I owe you’— She hesitated. Minot bit his lip sav- agely. Must be hear all that again? How much she owed him for his serv- §ce—for getting her to that luncheon in time—that wonderful luncheon. “1 owe you,” finished the girl softly, «the charges on that taxi” It was something of a shock to Mi- pot. Was she making game of him? “Don’t,” he answered. moonlight, with that waltz playing, and the old palms whispering—is this a time to talk of taxi bills?” «But—we must talk of something— oh, I mean—I insist. Won't you please tell me the figure?” ~ “All the time we were together this morning I talked figures—the figures on | ®But you must forgive me—l excited.” was so the face of a watch. Let us find some pleasanter topic. 1 believe Lord Har- rowby said you were to be married soon?” “Next Tuesday. A week from to- morrow.” «in San Marco?” “Yes. It breaks auntie’s heart that it can't be in Detroit. Lord Harrowby {s her triumph, you -see. But father can't go north in the winter—and Al- lan wishes to be married at once.” Minot was thinking hard. So Har- rowby was auntie’s triumph? And was he not Cynthia Mejyrick’'s as well? He would have given much to be able to inquire. Suddenly, with the engaging frank- mess of a child, the girl asked: «Hag your engagement ever been an- pounced?’ Mr. Minot. “Why—er—not to my knowledge,” Minot laughed. “Why?” “] was just wondering—if it made everybody feel queer. The way it makes me feel. Ever since 1 o’clock— I ought never to say it—I've felt as though everything was over. I've peemed old—old!” She clinched her fists and spoke almost in terror. “I don’t want to grow old. I'd bate ity «jt was here,” said Minot softly, «Ponce de Leon sought the fountain of : th. When you came up I was pre- tending the one splashing out there was that very fountain itself” — «1f it only were!” the girl cried. “Oh, could never drag me away from 1 But it isn’t. It’s supplied by the San Marco waterworks, and there's a meter ticking somewhere, I'm sure. And now, Mr. Minot”— «] know. You mean the $35 I paid our driver. 1 wish you would write me a check. I'vea reason.” «Thank you. I wanted to—so much. TH bring it to you soon.” fhe was gone, and Minot sat staring §nto the palms, his lips firm, gripping the arms of his chair. Sud- denly, with a determined leap, he was ©n his feet. A moment later he stood at the tele- ter in the lobby, writing in characters a m ze for graph bold, fi Mr. J teenth “Here in the | his hands | = TT TET TR EY | FR es * i | Thacker's claim on him was not such | that he must wreck his life's happi- neds to serve him. Even Thacker must see that. The red glow of a cigar near by drew closer as the smoker dragged his chair across the veranda floor. Minot saw behind the glow the keen face of a man‘eager for talk. “Some sce said the’ isn’t it? yf makes the musical All it Indios jaaies needs is walking palm down to the 11d have Broadway lash- X ¢ 1 Minot absentl “This is the I've Ix here thinking,” the n't seem to me vertised right. dreds of people up lows look out on' sun- i ‘ewery—people with | ke the first train | 1 the picture | el sole i hustl t * ‘em about it" “ i cood He | o talk about myself, | of Bunker's I written Bunker )il or scratch Bunker has | re put side by side”— “Selling it?" Minot inquired wearily. “No. But I made that eraser. Put it | on every desk between New York and the rolling Orezon. After that I land- ed Helot’'s bottled sauces. Patterson’s lime juice. Puckered every mouth in America. | specialty.” “So I gather.” | “Sure as you sit here. Trimmer is my name—never mind the jokes — Henry Trimmer, advertising specialist. Is your business flabby? Does it need a tonic? Quoting from my letterhead.” He lean- | ed closer. “Excuse a personal ques- tion, but didn't I see you talking with | Miss Cynthia Meyrick a while back?” | “Possibly.” Mr. Trimmer came even closer. “Engaged to Lord Harrowby, I un- derstand.” | “I believe s0”— | “Young fellow”—Mr. Trimmer’s tone was exultant—“I can’t keep in any longer. 1 got a proposition in tow so Jig it’s bursting my brain cells, and it | takes some strain to do that. No; 1 can’t tell you the exact nature of it, but I will this—tomorrow night this time I'll throw a bomb in this ho- tel so loud it'll be heard round the world.” “An anarchist?” “Not on your life—advertiser. And I've got something to advertise this hot February, take it from Maybe you're a friend of Miss Meyrick. Well, I'm sorry. For when I spring my little surprise I reckon this Harrowby wed- ding is going to shrivel up and fade away.” “You mean to say you—you're going to stop the wedding?” “1 mean to say nothing. Watch me. watch Henry Trimmer. Just a tip, young fellow. Well, I guess I'll turn | in. Get some of my best ideas in bed. | See you later.” And Mr. Trimmer strode into the cir- | cle of light, a fine upstanding figure | of a man, to pass triumphantly out of | sight among the palms. Dazed, Dick | Minot stared after him. A voice spoke his name. He turned. The slim white presence again, holding toward him a slin of paper. but Leal the wie Advertising is my say me. | «phe check. Mt Minot—$35. Is that correct?” 1; “Cory It’s splendid. because I'm | never to cash it. I'm going to | keep it” - { “Really. Mr Minot, I must say good” He cau seer Thacker and Jeph- son fado! Vaw York was far away He rns ne and the moon was shining- “going to lieep it—always Tife first letter you ever wrote me” — «and the last, Mr. Minot. | must go. Good night.” | He stood alone with the absurd check | jn his trembling fingers. | memory of Trimmer came back. bomb? What sort of a bomb? Well, he had given his word. There was no way out; he must protect old Jephson’s interests. But might he not wish the enemy success? He stared off in the direction the advertising wiz- ard had gone. «Trimmer, old boy,” he muttered, “here’s to your pitching arm!” Meyrick opened her eyes on I Tuesday morning. * She lay for a long time watching the Florida sun- shine, spoken of so tenderly in the railroad’s come on books, as it danced Really I CHAPTER V. Trimmer Throws His Bomb. T happened to be as a very 8e- ee ———— across the foot of Her bed nk | ple, you know.” { | | over Bruce, | Marco?’ And then | i Have a cigar. | Try Trimmer. Slowly the rious minded girl that Miss | THE MEYERSDALE COMMERCIAL, MEYERSDALE, strolling across the hotel courtyard to- | ward yesterday morning's New York papers. As he walked the pert prom- ises of Mr. Trimmer filled, his mind. What was the proposition Mr. Trim- : mer had in tow? How would it affect the approaching wedding? And what course of action should the representa- tive of Jephsdm puffsue when it Was re- vealed? For in the sensible light of morning Dick Minot realized that while he remained in San Marco as the guardian of Jephson's interests he must do his duty. Adorable Miss Mey- rick might be, but any change of mind gn her part must be over his dead body. A promise was fi promise. At the newsstand Minot mek Jack Paddock, jaunty, with a gardenia in his buttonhole and the atmosphere of pros- { perity that goes with it. “1 haven't seen you since we left col- lege, have 17’ said Paddock. “Well, Dick, for a couple of years I tried to make good doing fiction. I turned them out by the yard—nice quiet little | tea table yarus, with snappy dialogue. Once I got $80 for a story. It was hard work—and' I always yearn for the pur- “I know,” said Minot gravely. «Well, I've struck it, Dick. I've struck the deep purple with a-loud, if sickening, thud. Hist! The graft I mentioned yesterday.” He glanced his shoulder. “Remember Mrs. the wittiest hostess #n San {i *“Of course I do.” “Well, I write her repartee for her.” “Her what?’ “Her repartee — her dialogue — the | bright talk she convulses dinner tables | with. Instead of putting my smart stuff into stories at eighty per I sell it to Mrs. Bruce at—I'd be ashamfied to tell you, old man. I remarked that it | was essentially soft. It is.” “This is a néw one on me,” said Mi- not, dazed. | A delighted smile spread 0 | Paddock’s handsome face. i “Thanks. That's the beaut | ’m a pioneer. There'll be oth Mr. of it. , but | | | | ! I was the first. Con#ider the situation. | | Here's Mrs. Bruce, loaded with dia- | monds and money, but tongue tied in company, with a wit developeg in a small town. Bright, but stru ling, young author comes to her—offers to make her conversation the sensagion of the place for a few pesos.” “You did that?” 4. a “Yes; I ask posterity to vemetdiber it | was I who invented the grafts Mrs. | Bruce fell on my fair yonng® neck. Now she gives me in advance a jist of her engagements, and for the gpo.- tant ones 1 devise her line of talk. Then, as I'm usually present athe oc- casion, 1 swing things round for her dq give .ber her cues. if Tan not t It's g er ohn 1ae. clever in spring a re it grself. only a bit ving y remember Tif, 4 yany. If 1 forget and i ¢ she jumps on me 1d for not giving it tc I have proper afi her.” “By the w ddock said, “yoda haven't told at bro south?” “Business, Jack!” a secret. Perhag “Business? 1 came for plessur “There'll be no j for me,” said Mi “Oh, won't there?” ght you said Minot. “IUs np tell you later.” . of course, you sure in this trip ot Litlorly 'addock laughed. ! “Wait till you hear Mrs. Bruce talk. | See you later, old man.” At luncheon they brought Mr. Minot a telegram from a certain seventeenth floor in gram. It read: i Nonsense. Nobody here to take your place. See it through. You've given your i word. THACKER. i Gloomily Mr. Minot considered. What | was there to do but see it through | Even though Thacker should send an- . other to take his place, could he stay ' to woo the lady he adored? Hardly. In that event he would have to g0 New York. an explosive tele- | I away—never see her again—never hear | her voice. If he stayed as Jephson's representative he might know the glo- | vy of her nearness for a week, might od to wed her to Lord Harrowby. And perhaps— Who could say? Hard as he might work, might he not be thwart- od? Tt was possible. So after lunch he sent Thacker a re- assuring message, promising to stay. | And at the end of a dull hour in the | lobby he set out to explore the town. The Mermaid tea house stood on the water front, with a small second floor | balcony that looked out on the harbor. | Passing that way at 4:30 that after- | noon Minot heard a voice call to him. He glanced up. | “Oh, Mr. Minot, won’t you come into | my parlor?’ Cynthia Meyrick smiled down on him. | «gplendid!” Minot laughed. “I walk forlorn through this old Spanish town. Suddenly a lattice is thrown wide, a | fair hand beckons. I dash within.” «phanks for dashing,” Miss Meyrick greeted him on the balcony. “I was finding it dreadfully dull But I'm lacking. There s no moonlight, no lat- tice, no mantilla, no Spanish beauty.” “No matter,” Minot answered. “3 never did care for Spanish types. They flash like a skyrocket, then tumble in dark. Now. the home grown thing but tea,” she interrupt yu have a cup?’ Was it really very dull?” “yes. This book was to blame.” She held up a novel. “What's the matter with it? yi SL of 1 books in which i er g« thrill at her smile even while he work- | - afraid the Spanish romance is a little |, | { | PA. “The Lileth,” she said. “Exactly,” said Minot. groom comet n.”’ Another silence. “youll want to go to meet him,” Minot said, @ He stood looking at the boat, £ shine. “I'll go with you as far as the street.” «But—you know Lord Harrowby. Meet him with me.” “It seems h y the thing’'— «But I'm not sentimental. And sure- ly Allan’s not.” «Then 1 must be,” said Minot. “Real ly—I'd rather not”— They went together to the street. At the parting of the ways Minot turned to her. “I promised Lord Hz “The bride- rowby in New York,” he told her, “that you would have your lamp trimmed and burm- ing.” She looked up at him. A mischievous | light came into her eyes. «Please—have you a match?’ she | asked. It was too much. Minot turned and fled down the street. He did not once look back, though it seemed to him that he felt every step the girl took across that narrow pier to her fiance's side. As he dressed for dinner that night his telephone rang, and Miss Meyrick’s voice sounded over the wire. «Harrowby remembers pleasantly. Won't you joln us at din- ner?” “Are you sure an outsider’’— he be- gan. “Nonsense. be there.” “Ah, thank you! Minot replied. In the lobby Harrowby seized his hand. 2 “My dear chap, you're looking fit. Great to see you again! do you know Martin Wall?” “Yes. Mr. Wall and I met just be- fore the splash,” Minot smiled. He shook hands with Wall, unaccountably genial and beaming. “The Hudson, Mr. Wall, is a bit chilly in February.” “My dear fellow,” said Wall, “can you ever forgive me? A thousand apologies. It was all a mistake, a hor- rible mistake.” «1 felt like a rotter when I heard about it,” Harrowby put in. “Martin Mr. Martin Wall is to “The Lileth,” she said. mistook you for some one else. You must forgive us both.” “Freely,” said Minot. “And I want to apologize for my suspicions of you, Lord Harrowby.” “Thanks, old chap.” “1 never doubted you would come— after IT saw Miss Meyrick.” “She is a ripper, isn’t she?” said Har- rowby enthusiastically. Martin Wall shot a quick, almost hostile glance at Minot. “You've noticed that yourself, haven't you?’ he said in Minot’s ear. At which point the Meyrick family arrived, and they all went in to dinner. | It was after dinner when they all | stood together in the lobby a moment before separating that Henry Trimmer made good his promise out of a clear | sky. Cynthia Meyrick stood facing the others, talking brightly, when suddenly her face paled, and the flippant words dled on her lips. They all turned in- stantly. : Through the lobby, in a buzz of ex- cited comment, a man walked slowly, his eyes on the ground. He was a tall, blond Englishman, not unlike Lord Harrowby in appearance. His gray eyes when he raised them for a mo- nent were listless, his shoulders stoop- ed and weary, and he had a long, drooping mustache that hung like a weeping willow above a particularly cheerless stream. However, it was not his appearamce that excited comment and caused Miss Meyrick to pale: Hung over his shoul- ders was a pair of sandwich boards guch as the outcasts of a great city | carry up and down the streets, and on the front board, turned full toward Miss Meyrick’s dinner party, printed in bold black letters: was | you very I'll be delighted,” | By the way, rowby stood like a man of stone, gaz | ing at the sandwich boards. It was at this point that the hotel | detective sufficiently recovered himself | to lay eager hands on the audacious | sandwich man and propel him violent- | ly from the scene. In the background Mr. Minot per- ceived Henry Trimmer, puffing excit- edly on a big black cigar, a triumphant look on his face. : | Mr. Trimn s bomb was thrown There was Supp sed excitement in the hotel next day by refused to meet the cl title. The d was in ers 1C1 | iness of a Florida midday Mr air. ‘Mr. Minot lay Lord Harrowby Stood Like a Man of Stone, Gazing. at the’ Sandwich Boards. on his bed. A hundred thoughts were bis — the brown of Miss Meyrick’s eyes, the sincerity of Mr. Trimmer’s voice when he spoke of his proposition, the fishy look of Lord Harrowby re- fusing to meet his long lost brother. Things grew hazy. Mr. Minot slept. On leaving Lord Harrowby's rooms | Mr. Martin Wall did not immediately set out for the Lileth. on which he liv- ed in preferc.ce to the hotel. Instead he took a brisk turn ut the spacious lobby of the De la Pax. I 1 rd of Hotel £14 1 le the de la with doors opening both on the yard and on the narrow outside. ' Among these, occupying a corner room, was the very smart jewel shop of Osiby & Blake. Occasionally in the winter resorts of the south one may find jewelry shops whose stocks would Lear favorable competition with | Fifth avenue. Ostby & Blake conduct- ! ed such an establishment. Tor a moment before the show win- dow of this shop Mr. Wall paused and with the eye of a connoisseur studied the brilliant display within. His whole manner changed. The air of boredom with which he had surveyed his fel- low travelers of the lobby disappeared. On the instant he was alert, alive, al- most eager. Jauntily he strolled into the store, A tall man was in charge. From outside came the shrill scream of a child, interrupting. The tall man turned quickly to the window. “My God"’— he moaned. «What is it?’ Mr. Wall sought to look over his shoulder. “Automobile” — “My little girl,” cried the clerk in agony. He turned to Martin Wall, hesitating. His sallow face was white now, his lips trembled. Doubtfully he gazed into the frank open countenance of Martin Wall. And then— «I leave you in charge!” he shouted and fled past Mr. Wall to the street. For a moment Martin Wall stoed, frozen to the spot. His eyes were un believing. His little Cupid's bow mouth was wide open. Mr. Wall's knees grew weak. He felt a strange prickly sensation all over him. He took a step and was staring His Eyes Fell Upon the Door of a Huge Safety Vault. | at the finest display of black pearls gouth of Maiden Lane, New York. Quickly he turned away. His eyes | fell upon the door of a huge safety | vault. It was swinging open! Little beads of perspiration began to pop.out on the | Wall. His heart was hammering like ! 3 ' that of a youth es after a long | tall man came running back. Appre- his eyes as down | [| Ww 1 by a series of modish i street | forehead of Martin | s | the path t vard him—comi PE fat figure of a man suffering’ a cruel, inhuman agony. He was still standing thus when the hension clouded that sallow face. “It was very kind of you.” The small eves of the clerk darted every- where, then came back to Martin wall. “I'm obliged—why, what's the matter, sir?’ Martin Wall passed his hand across vg a terrible a man banisl ' he asked. vtech,” said the clerk, ¢ child at his wasn't it?’ He er now, studying ted on the show- CHAPTER VL Chain Lightning's Collar. AR. TOM STACY of the Manhat- tan club, half dozing on the veranda of his establishment, was rejoiced to see his old friend Martin Wall crossing the pave- ment toward him. “Well, Martin”— he began. And then a look of concern came into his face. «Good heavens, man, what ails you?” Mr. Wall sank like a wet rag to the steps. “Tom,” he said, “a terrible thing has just happened. I was left *flone in Ostby & Blake's jewelry shop.” “Alone?” cried Mr. Stacy. alone ?” 3 “Absolutely alone.” Mr. Stacy leaned over. “Are you leaving town—in a hurry?” he asked. Gloomily Mr. Wall shook his head. “He put mé on my honor,” he com- plained—*left me in charge of the shop. Can you beat it? Of course aft- er that, I—well, you know somehow I couldn't do it. I tried, but I couldn't.” Mr. Stacy threw back his head, and has raucous laughter smote the lazy summer afternoon. “1 can’t help it,” be gasped. “The funniest thing I ever—you—the best stone thief in America alone in charge of 3,000,000 worth of the stuff!” Cheeks burning, eyes popping, Mr. Minot, hiding behind the curtains in a | room overhead, watched them disap- pear into the Manhattan club. Here was news indeed—Lord Har- rowby’s boon companion the ablest jewel thief in America! Just what did | that mean? Putting on to the hotel | cablegram: Situation suspicious. tain HH. is on the level? An hour later, in his London office, Mr. Jephson read this message care- fully three times. The Villa Jasmine, Mrs, Bruce's win- ter home, stood in a park of palms and shrubbery some two blocks from the Hotel de la Pax. Mr. Minot walked thither that evening in the resplendent company of Jack Paddock. “You'll enjoy Mrs. Bruce tonight,” Paddock confided. “I've done her some rather good lines, if 1 do say it that shouldn't.” f “On what topics?” asked Minot. “International marriage—jewels—by the way, I don't suppose you know that Miss Cynthia Meyrick is to appear for the first time wearing the famous Harrowby necklace?” “] @idn't even know there was a necklace,” Minot returned. “Ah, such ignorance! But then you don’t wander much in feminine so- ciety, do you? Mrs. Bruce told me about it this morning. Chain Light- ning’s collar.” “Chain Lightning’s what?” “Ah, my boy”’—Mr. Paddock lighted a cigarette—‘‘you should go round more in royal circles! List, commoner, while I relate. It seems that the Earl of Raybrook is a giddy old sport with a gambling streak a yard wide. In his young days he loved the Lady Evelyn Hollowway. Lady Evelyn had a horse entered in a Derby about that time— name, Chain Lightning. And the Earl of Raybrook wagered a diamond neck- lace against a kiss that Chain Light- ning would lose.” “Wasn't that giving big odds?’ in- quired Minot. “Not if you believe the stories of Lady Evelyn’s beauty. Well, it hap- pened before Tammany politicians be- gan avenging Ireland on Derby day. “You— 1 | coat and hat, he hurried office and there wrote a Are you dead cer- came across with the necklace. After- ward he married Lady Evelyn”— “To get back the necklace?” “Cynic. And, being a rather racy old boy, he referred to the necklace there- after as Chain Lightning’s collar. It got to be pretty well known in Eng- land by that name. I believe it is con- sidered a rather neat piece of jewelry among the English nobility, whose sparklers aren't what they were be- fore the steel business in Pittsburgh turned out a good thing.” “Chain Lightning's collar?” mused Minot, “I presume Lady Evelyn was the mother of the present Lord Har- rowby?”’ “So ’tis rumored,” smiled Paddock, “though I take it his lordship favors hig father in looks.” 1 They walked along for a moment in silence. The story of this necklace of diamonds could bring but one thing to i i i Minot'’s thoughts—Martin ‘Wall droop- ing on the, of the Manhattan club while old Stacy roared with joy- . He considered. Paddock? No. he would The whir of a motor caused the Then Muy. +} star stej Should he tell Mr. wait, hehin® $#hom two ‘youl ad tot . Minot saw her comiagz up 1g up that 1 fair Chain Lightning won, and the earl: Rich in B Wholesem Not x Pack Churned f rich, sweet Shas te us proo! ac pound v § aad guaran F | About h of the wor relation te male, 498.7 sult of tb among cor number tt ing: Fema per cent. of which verse is tr in British tary state the Unite: there wer the divisi being as f tive paren native wh males, 100 males, 10( 100 femal females.— Ad “Figure tical expe “Wait a Sorghum. you are ( it you are the troubl lation just going to p
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers