The Vermont watchman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1883-1911, 1897-09-08

OF possessions in Ireland, among them
rich father and an ancient and honor
able ancestry, he could not afford tC
do so.
He was thinking of her as she had
looked the night before, when suddenly
che appeared, with her servant, coming
up from street dark and deep, like q
well, for it was getting dusk.
On the strength of being at college
with her brother, he began with true
manly irascibility to take her to task fol-
her imprudence. But Miss Constance
frightened up her soft, naughty mouth,
and giving him the rear curve of o
tweed shoulder to study, led him q
chase home.
cupied had been Senior Lopez's, but
was presented to Dick, together with a
mine worth millions, several black.eyed
girls, and what other trifling property
Don Felipe owned. However, Dick
continued to pay the rent regularly and
gazed on the girls from afar. The
hapging-lamp was lighted in the zaguan,
and when the mozo unclaimed the
great double doors, flood of melody
and fragrance rushed out to greet them
from the birds and flowers in the dim
patio. Dick, in smoking-jacke
lounged out from the sala to insist that
Tony, old boy, should take tea with
them. Which he did.
What was the first difference between
the brother and sister. Dick adored
Tony, and every night they pumped
out the mine or rode to hounds over
the sala floor. But Constance detested
him, and, contrary to her usual reti-
cence, said 80. She tramped around
the disreputable and filthy streets twice
as much as before, for she knew it an
noyed him. Sometimes she would see
him following, and she resented his es-
pionage.
Why don't you like Tony?" Dick
would ask. "You know my theory,
Connie, that sporty man like Dysart
makes the best husband"
ooh, Dickl who is talking about hus-
bands? l think that man who is ut
terly doggy and horsey and takes
Browning to be an authority on pink
eye or CHAMBERS is very poor compan-
ion. To quote your dear Tony We
don't trot in the same classl'"
This was one day at luncheon, and
Constance, instead of the good cry she
longed for, took walk. She had not
seen Rosita for some time, and she
turned her steps toward what Mr..
Dysart called "those cut-throat dens."
She had never seen the street 80 de-
serted. All were taking siesta, even
the dogs. AS she reached the sharp
corner she heard thin little shrek full
of appeal. She recognized Rosita's
voice, and ran with her criada at her
side into the low, open doorway she
had before SO shudderingly avoided.
There, swapping his teeth, and roll
ing his blood-shot eyes, was Rosita's
little brother" tied with strong ropes
to an iron pin in the wall-but his arms
were free, and he stood naked to the
waist, giant in size. He had secured
the key and almost pulled the staple
from the wall, but Rosita was clinging
to his arm and calling for help. To
and fro he swang her as a wolf might a
rabbit.
He had the key in his black, cruel
hands, and he brought it down on her
up-turned face. Then again, as Con-
stance rushed forward with scream,
the key fell with crunch on the little,
old, gray head.
AT that moment the pin gave way,
for adobe walls are not strong. Con-
stance turned with her hands thrown
out wildly. Over Rosita's body the
mailman tripped with crash to the
earth floor; just as he fell, he caught
Constance's gown in his grasp. She
fell with him, and, falling, knew the
room had filed with Gathering crowd,
and that Tony Dysart, smooth-shaven
and blond, doomed above all.
Constance, with the help of her crida,
got out in the street, where she
listened, with beating heart, to the
cries, curses and scuflling going on in
side.
There was one dominating, awful
groan-then sinister silence.
A moment of sickening uncertainty
for that Unconditional young English
woman, and Tony Dysart, painting, his
clothes torn and blood-stains on his face
and hands.
He walked firmly enough to give
Constance helping arm up the stairs.
He said Rosita was dead, and he
thought the "little brother" would die
also, for, white he was struggling with
him, policeman had crept up and
struck him over the head with heavy
iron bar.
"Here we are at the Casa Stanley
she said, as they stopped before the
carved doors. "Come in, Dick will
want to see YOU. He can thank you
better than l."
"No one can thank me better than
you," Tony replied. Sand must &C
to the hotel. This arm of mine pains a
little. No, not broken" he answered,
trying to smile, "but little brother
wrenched it trif1e."
Constance, however, would not &C.
cept his easy assurance that it was
right. "You must come in, Dick will
want you"
"Do you want me, thought" She
did not answer that; but, as she let the
knocker fall, turned with tears in hel
eyes.
"Will you come, Tony?"
81 will come," he insisted, "if you
want me-"
The big door swung open.