The Seattle post-intelligencer. [volume] (Seattle, Wash. Terr. [Wash.]) 1888-1914, 1892-11-13

oen her TO tell MIN tOey must part IOr .
time-at least until something more could
Eugene gathered . kind Of desperate
calmness as she proceeded desperate
calmness such a. that which comes to
men, perhaps, when they stand and de-
liberateiy argue with themselves which IL
the surest Of many ways OF self-destruc-
ton.
But" said Emily at last, "I am sure
God will not long let US suffer SO. Oh,
Eugene. will pray and you must work.
God will help US to bring this wicket rob
Der to justice-I arm sure He viii"
They shook hands and parted, Eugene
walking to his cab with determination
he never before had known. and Emily
where he saw her pleading eyes turned
ND to heaven, and where she remained
long after he was out of sight.
In q cheap back room IN jingy quarter
of London q haggard young man, whom
Eugene Logan's nearest friend would
hardly recognize. sat studying scrap of
paper-half note sheet. He had done so
much thinking with this note before his
eyes during the last four months that now
he seemed to miss something when he
tried to think without it.
Eugene had taken this miserable room
that he might save the few hundred dol
lars he had in the bank for an emergency.
Day after day he had gone on foot from
one end of London to the other searching
for q certain shopkeeper with q south
counter and a stock Of handbags. He had
found the man in an out of the way court,
and the man had remembered the note
and the bag with the blue cross on the bot
tom, but he could not tell how the cross
came to be there and did not know what
the boy looked like who had brought the
note and taken the bag without waiting
among the boys Of London-all kinds of
boys-until they came to know HIM as the
man who would give f5 to see the lad
who bought that bag. Finally he found
the boy and made a friend of him
and hired him to help canvass Lon
don-aIl London and all England, and
all the world if need be- so that he might
set ewes on the short, wiry man with
heavy waxed black mustachios and inn
perial and foreign accent. may be French,
may be Italian, like enough Spanish.
One day as Eugene was passing q small
hotel in quiet neighborhood he caught a
glimpse of face at an upper window. and
it startled him. He saw but a flash of it,
but it was Mrs. Whitfield's. or he was
much mistaken. He had learned this the
family had closed their house and gone to
Lake Schwerin. in Germany. for Emily's
health. Had they come back and taken
rooms here until their home was made
ready? Was Emily in that room up
there? If he concealed himself and
watched, might he not see her sweet face
1t never rains but it pours. A short,
wiry man with waxed black mustachios
and imperial crossed Eugene's vision.
Where had he come from? Never mind!
The important question was. where was
he going? Eugene followed him, overlook
him. and asked what time it was.
"Zere is a clock" was the curt reply. and
sure enough there was clock, a big one.
just in front OF him. But there was for
eign accent ringing in Eugene's ears
ringing sweetly. too-and time was no OBJ
ject.
Eugene did not lose this man. In two
hours he had memorandum in his pocket:
"Col. and Nine. Gervais, Paris. room 80.
Came Came today. Madam petite blonde,
This was all the porter knew. Somebody
else would know more in the morning.
Eugene and Danny were there early next
morning. Danny " as sure he woulk know
the man who sent him for the black bag if
he should see him. But he did not see
him. Col. and Mime. had left the hotel late
the night before. Eugene inquired if the
No; nobody of the name of Whitfield. So,
of course, he must have been mistaken. It
was only glance, anyhow. He half be-
lieved it was an apparition sent to hold
him there until Col. Gervais came In sight.
Eugene was nervous and weak from loss
of sleep and appetite. 1t might even have
been his own Imagination. Whatever it
was, he was sure it was in answer to his
own dear Emily's prayer by that other
window.
During the months that Eugene was
learning the little he now knew-much
less than he thought he knew-Emily was
at q quiet retreat near Wismar. Her
father had feared she would die in Lon