The Abilene reflector. [volume] (Abilene, Kan.) 1883-1888, 1888-03-22


souvenirs, placed in my hands in trust
for his sister. 1t seemed a sacrilege to
produce them in such an atmosphere.
My annoyance was extreme when Aunt
Carriston begged to be allowed the
custody of these valuables until even
ing, as she particularly desired to show
them to friend l refused at first
but her voluble pleading at last made
me weakly give in.
a few hours later, as / was particu-
larly distinguishing myself over game
of billiards, fellow brought me a note
summoning me to the Hotel DIES Palm
iers. where my aunt lived, with all pos
sible speed.
Here 1 found a pretty state of COM
motion. Mrs. Carriston, my aunt, had
been attacked in the avenue, and
robbed, the thief escaping with his
plunder As soon as / had ascertained
that my respected relative had come
off without bodily hurt, could not re-
press an unworthy feeling of inward
triumph at my astute prediction being
so promptly and forcibly verified, but
/, of course, maintained discreet ST.
lence upon this point while listening to
the victims account of her misfortune.
81 was returning to luncheon leis-
urely enough" she began, "when, on
turning into that quiet bit of ilex-walk,
l was startled by a man jumping over
the hedge and saying something to me
which l did not understand. Then.
all in dash, he pushed me back
against a tree. clapped one hand over
my mouth-oh, such dirty hand =
and with the other tore off my bag, the
chatelaine, and all the rest of it. He
got some of my bracelets. too, though
don't quite know how many. Then
he bolted, and how did yell but it
was of no use. A cloud of walters went
scudding down the road after the ras-
cal, but he was too quick for them.
I'm very sorry, Larry, but those
medals and things of poor young Mon
Grief were in the bag. They were fort
unately not of much value, and l
don't suppose"
GOOD heavens you don't mean to
say the thief has got Jacks last gifts
to his sister p l cried, in Mortified dis
may.
Eyes, they are gone; but what are
those bits of things compared with my
black pearls, the real Indian filigree,
and"
I interrupted with some exclamation
more forcible than polite, 1 fear, for l
was vaguely conscious of my aunt's
gazing at me in high dudgeon.
What a fool 1 had been to allow
Jacks trust to leave my hands for a
moment! l was no more fitted to be
given such a mission than any rascally
blackleg. Could 1 ever hold up my
head again at the bare thought of
Mora Moncrieff, whom had so wronged
with my dastardly carelessness and
as for looking in her face. how could l
dare do that, unless these stolen goods
could be recovered ??
They must be recovered if it took
my last penny, l would win back poor
Jacks legacy, or never know light
conscience again.
"What was the fellow like, aunt,
who made the attack ?" 1 asked, with
iattering eagerness, provided my de-
sire had been to search for her stolen
treasures.
ga shortish, stumpy man, with a
broad nose. and small, dark eyes. One
of his hands had the letters IS. M
branded on the back"
This was useful and important
clew which the police officers noted
with avidity, and l shortly had the as
surance that the best measures possible
for tracing the criminal would be
taken at once.
My state of mind bordered on des-
peration, and l could not see no clear
way out of my difficulty. 1 shrank
from presenting myself before Miss
Moncrieff minus her brothers gifts,
and yet she must wonder at nay nom
appearance, having been told of my
mission by Dysart. On the other hand,
l loathed the idea of tarrying at Men,
tone, where the mishap had occurred.
In the midst of my perplexities 1
heard the day after the robbery that
suspicious characters had been traced
to Marseilles, one of whom might turn
out to be the man we desired to entrap.
Marseilles being step towards Mora,
l decided to betake myself thither, to
find out if there was any satisfactory
truth in this statement.
My only companion in the railway
carriage was sharp-featured lady of
uncertain age. with multitudinous par
GELS and bags. Not wishing to annoy
her with attempts at conversation
which might be unwelcome, 1 retired
behind my newspaper, and forgot the
lady's existence.
Though stared fixedly at the print
ed page, my mind was miles away with
Mora, whom Twas fated perhaps never
to see.
My bitter-sweet reverie was dis
turbed unexpectedly by my travelling
companion twitching nervously at the
corner of my paper. 1 looked at her
in ;astonishment, and saw that she was
much agitated; she drew the paper from
my hand. pressing her finger to her lips
to enjoin silence.
I'm in for some sort of romantic
set-to with a crazy woman. 1 thought
to myself, as 1 involuntarily glanced at
the alarm-signal on the wall opposite.
The lady wrote hastily some words
upon the margin of my paper, which