Waterbury evening Democrat., 1894-05-24
BY AMERICAN PRESS Asso
CHAPTER XI.
MISS MAXEY TRIES.


MISS MAXEY TRIES
Miss Maxey went cut of the house In
Ballavoine place with no definite pur-
pose in view. She was disappointed,
vexed, even offended by what she consid-
cred Annette's misplaced sentiment and
Maxey's want of firmness, but she was
| entirely unable to see what she could do
to remedy the mischief. She had waited
for Mr.. Dyes coming from the day she
knew of Maxey's visit to Flood street
with despairing Impotence, and she
had heard from the lips of Annette of his
arrival in the house with an excitement
! which rendered her own absence from
the interview with him AN almost un
bearable hardship. Now at last she felt
| the long delayed time had come when
something of the mystery of the cruel
| affair ON the sea road was to be cleared
away.
Miss Maxey longed to see the light of
day poured i'll upon this dark deed. 1t
was n longing not born of curiosity
alone. All the sympathies of her broad
and generous nature had been enlisted
in the cause of the poor girl whom she
had rescued from a nameless grave. Her
outraged sense of justice made her aglow
with desire to know that the guilty
had suffered for the wrong inflicted on
a helpless girl. The thought that the
perpetrator of this dastardly crime was
left free to go about, unchallenged and
unmasked, among his fellow creatures
was at times almost maddening to her.
And to think that after all that had
happened, ON the very verge, 1T seemed
to her, of the most important discov-
cries, the man who undoubtedly held the
key of the whole matter; the man, in
all probability, who was himself the
criminal for whom they sought, was, in
order to satisfy the scruples of a too SEN
sitive girl to be allowed to put himself
out of their reach forever. This dis
tressed her almost beyond endurance.
And in spite of all this she had come
without word of remOnstrance or re-
proach. Impulsive Miss Maxey undoubt-
eddy was, but she was quite capable of
putting bride upon her tongue in
moment of anger, for the very reason
that she distrusted her own power of
self control Not for the world would
she have uttered syllable that could by
any possibility wound the sensitive spirit
of Annette, and she did not dare trust
herself to enter into an argument with
her brother i'll her presence. So she had
come out into the freer atmosphere of
the street.
1t was a cold, gloomy afternoon in
January. The sky was dark and threat
ened SNOW. Miss Maxey was well wrap
ped up and rather enjoyed the crisp at
mosphere. 1t was certainly an antidote
for the fever within her.
She walked down the few PAGES which
were necessary to take her to the high
picketed fence that Separated the street
from the river. For a moment she
looked out over the waste of whitened
ice and i'll that moment an idea came
to her-out of so little do great things
sometimes arise. If Miss Maxey had
gone her customary way up the street
into the main avenue, she would doubt
less have wandered about the neigh
borhood till she had got the better of
her emotions and have returned home,
resigned TO the inevitable, and so the
part that she was to play i'll the unravel-
ing of the sea road mystery would never
have been. But at the moment when she
looked out between the pickets the idea
came TO her that she might, by remain
ing where she was, get a better view of
the somber Mr.. Dye than she had been
able TO obtain in the house through a
half opened door. 1t was only this and
no more All that followed came grad |
ually and step by step.
Her brother had expressed his inten
ton of dismissing Mr.. Dye at once. The
mysterious visitor ought by this time to |
be coming down the stairs and out into |
the street. She drew her veil over her |
face and turned toward the door. Al |
most at the same instant the woebegone |
hat, the shiny coat and all that apper- |
tanned thereto emerged into the open air. |
Mr.. Dye did not look about him. His !
head did not seem to be capable of hold |
ing itself erect. His eyes were fixed on
the ground. He plunged his hands deep |
into his coat pockets and set out with a
slow and not exactly steady step toward |
the avenue. Almost involuntarily, GER
tainly without rejecting upon what she |
did, Miss Maxey followed him at the |
same slow pace. When he reached the |
C rner, he stopped and looked up and |
down the street. as if undecided which |
way he had better take. Miss Maxey |
slackened her pace lest she should over
take him.
After a momentary hesitation he |
made his decision. He took the way to |
the right Was he going back to Flood |
street? His last movement would indi- |
cate that he was not, though the crooked |
ness of the city streets might leave even |
this matter of doubt. He went on in |
the same slow, unsteady, detected man
ner. Presently he crossed the street, and
turning into a branch thoroughfare went !
up toward the heart of the city. Miss
Maxey followed, though she kept upon |
the other side of the way.
Then it was that the idea of ''shad- |
owing him to the end and spying upon |
him so far as she could first came into |
the mind of the artists sister. With q |
glow of excitement at her heart and a |
quickening breath, the deliberate prof. |
ect of playing the detective took form |
within her. 1t was novel, it was entic- !
H9'h |