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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