Eagle River review. [volume] (Eagle River, Wis.) 1890-1927, 1892-05-05

black veil of hers drawn down, like
some specter. To-day, though, she
mailed letter at the postoffice that l
saw"
Did she?"
For fact; and say, Prescott, who
do you think it was directed to-"
Well, who?"
"Guess?"
"Oh, don't bother ne What do I care
about it?
You will when I tell you that the let
ter was directed to your esteemed friend,
Paul Dalton.
Prescott looked up, a startled, evil,
lurid glow in his wicked eyes.
What" he CALCULATED.
yes, Paul Dalton.
Ralph Prescott sat looking into moth
ingness, but his breath came fast, and
his ewes emitted scintilations of hatred
and revenge.
What was the address," he asked.
Il only saw the name. was going to
fish out the letter later, but forgot it, .
The information set every crafty in
stinct in Prescott's nature agOg.
It suggested much. Why was this
mysterious, unknown Mrs. Easton cor
responding with man whose address
even the lawyer did not know.
Was she the head and center of some
plot that had induced old Godfrey For
sythe in his dying moments to change
his will in favor OF the outcast of Maple
Leaf Farm?
i've struck clue, muttered Pres
colt convincedly, as he left the tavern
alone. I've wanted to find out where
Ruth has gone to, where Walton is.
That woman knows. She knows, too,
every detail OF the will business, I'll
venture. She is the one to watch.
What dolt 1 have been! I'll find out
something about all this entangling
mystery now, or know the reason why.
Straight to the vicinity of the former
home of old Godfrey Forsythe the
schemer betook himself.
He was too familiar with it's gloomy
surroundings not to be able readily to
gain a point Of vantage to inspect the
house unseen.
The grim looking, closely suffered
domicile promised little to reward his
quest, until he came around to some
bushes upon which faced a wing of the
old structure.
Two rooms here were used as a Sit
ting-room and kind of library, and the
window shades OF the latter apartment
were not yet lowered, and a tablelamp
Illuminated it's somber Punishment.
At little stand sat the nurse, Mrs.
Easton. She Was writing, and several
closely written sheets Of a letter lay be-
side her
AS though tired of her task Or uncer-
tain how to proceed with the epistle,
however, as Prescott peered, she arose,
and with a gesture Of WEAKNESS, pro-
ceeded to the adjoining apartment, clos
ing the door after her.
To the suffered window of this room
Prescott HE'D himself briskly.
A chink through the rotted wooden
Stats offered full view of the apart
ment.
He saw the woman approach mirror.
She removed her glasses, manipulated
her hair and close-ttting cap, and then,
turning, she lay down on a lounge as if
to rest.
Her face was turned now so that Ralph
Prescott saw it plainly.
AS he did so, a cry of utter incredulity,
comprehension and bewilderment es-
capped his lips.
For startling transition had taken
place.
Mrs. Easton, the nurse, was Mrs. Eas-
ton no longer!
All that pertained to that mysterious
parsonage had disappeared with the re-
moval of the spectacles, the coil of
white hair and closely fitting widows
cap.
Instead, a fresh young face, a little
careworn, little anxious, but clear as
a rosebud, and bewitching as that of an
houri, looked forth from a mass of
golden ringlets.
Marvel of marvels!" gasped the as
founded schemer, a great light shining
in upon his mind with the force of cleo
trio radiance-"it is she !"
no BE CONTINUED