The Kinsley graphic. [volume] (Kinsley, Kan.) 1890-1940, 1896-11-20

key on his watch chain he was struck
with a faint perfume that seemed to
come from tia perfume that he re-
membered. Was it the smell of the
flower that Miss Faulkner carried-or
the scent of the handkerchief with
which she had wiped his checker
minglng of both! Or was he under
some diabolical spell of that wretched
girl-and her witch-like flower? He
leaned on the box and suddenly started.
Upon the outer covering of a dispatch
was singular blood-red streak! He
examined it closely-it was the pow
derry stain of the lily pollen-cxactly
as he had seen it on her handkerchief.
There could be no mistake. He
passed his hand over the stain-he
could still feel the slippery. impalpable
powder of the pollen. 1t was not there
when he had closed the box that morn
ing, it was impossible that it should be
there unless the box had been opened
dnring his absence. He reeXamined the
contents of the box, the papers were all
there. More than that-they were pa
pers of no importance except to him
to any military secret; he had been far
too wise to intrust any to the accidents
of this alien house. The prying in
truder, whoever it was, had gained
nothing! But there was unmistaka-
bly, the attempt! And the existence of
would-be spy within the purlieus of
the house was equally clear.
He called an officer from the next
room. HAS anyone been here since my
absence?"
mo, general"
HAS anyone passed through the
hall?"
He had fully anticipated the answer,
os the subaltern replied: "Only the
women servants"
He reentered his room. Closing the
door, he again carefully examined the
box, his table, the papers upon it, the
chair before it, and even the Chinese
mating on the floor, for any further
Indication of the pollen. 1t hardly
seemed possible that anyone could have
entered the room with the flower in
their hand without scattering some of
the tell-tale dust elsewhere; it was too
large flower to be worn on the breast
or in the hair. Again, no one would
have dared to linger there long enough
to have made an examination of the
box-with an officer in the next room,
and servants passing. The box had been
removed and the examination made
elsewhere.
An idea seized him. Miss Faulkner
was still absent-the mulatto had ap-
parently gone home. He quickly mount
ed the staircase, but, instead of entering
his room, turned suddenly aside into
the wing which had been reserved.
The first door yielded, as he turned the
knob gently, and he entered room
which he at once recognized as the
"young lady's boudoir." But the dusty
and draped furniture had been arranged
and uncovered, and the apartment had
every sign of present use. Yet, al
though there was very evidence of its
being used by person of taste and re-
finement, he was surprised to see that
the garments, hanging in the open
press, were such as were used by negro
servants, and that gaudy handker-
chief, such as housemaids use for tur-
bans. was lying on the pretty silken
coverlet. He did not linger over these
details, but cast rapid glance round
the room. Then his eyes became fixed
on fanciful writing desk which stood
by the window. For in a handsome
vase placed on it's level top and droop-
ing on portfolio below hung a cluster
of the strange flowers that Miss Faulll'
Ter had carried