The Mount Holly news. [volume] (Mount Holly, Burlington Co., N.J.) 1891-1942, 1897-12-14
GREATEST OF THREE.

ne was urSO VI all n6I uUSDduU 3
friend and then her own, and this is
the story Of how she saved him in a
time of great danger and stood herself
ON the brink of another and greater
peril.
Evey Lancaster was one of those wo-
men who marry men they averagely
love and are faithful wives and devoted
mothers SO long as passion, going down
the country lane Of their peaceful lives,
passes them by on the other side. She,
perhaps, loved her husband more than
these women usually do, but then she
was made Of sterner stuff, and where
there is more to conquer there is more
to suffer. Small blame to her, since
heaven had made her charming. Small
blame to Edward Vereker, her hus-
bands friend, since he found her so, and
he himself as goodly a man as you
would meet ON any summers day. Her
husband, David Lancaster, was good
ly man, too, and worthy of her and Of
Edward Vereker, his friend.
But there were three of them, and
three is an evil number concerning men
and women.
1t was during the summer of 1898
that Edward Vereker and Evey, his
friends wife, began to be more than
friends. He was staying with the Lam
casters down in Surrey in their pretty
little red house on the edge of the pref
ty little blue river. and David was 60
ing up and down to London every day,
because it was yet early, and the vari-
GUS vacations and holidays had not be-
gun. So he and she were left good
deal ON one another's hands. Satan
found mischief, not for those idle
hands, but idle eyes, for that summer
ones hands remained in ones lap and
it was too hot even to talk, but it is as
easy to look at ones neighbor as to stare
blankly into space, and eyes can do a
great deal by themselves, take it alto
gether.
So these two sat in the shady garden
under the big cedars and looked at one
another for want of something better to
do and found the occupation suffice for
all their needs
Evey Lancaster was good woman
by nature, not by art. I mean she was
naturally good and had not become so
by trying very hard. She had been we'll
brought up; she read decent books, aud,
therefore, only few, and she meant
every word of her share in the mar
rage service.
But, alas and alas, she was a woman,
and a pretty one, and Edward Vereker
was good looking and a man, though
somewhat unusually moral and possess
ed of sense of honor. Moreover, they
both loved David. But David was away
all day, and-I mistrust June and the
devil in green gardenl
don't know that anything would
have come of it if tragedy had not step
ped in; Adelphi tragedy, battle, murder
and sudden death in one of its most ap-
palling forms in the shape of hydropho-
bia.
Evey and Edward had been unneces-
sarily energetic that day. Perhaps they
both uncomfortably realized that sit
ting under the trees saying nothing was
becoming little exciting. At any
rate Evey went to the gunroom and
brought out a Smith g. Wesson of her
husbands, and they set up a mark in
the meadow outside the garden, and,
having prudently removed the COWS,
practiced shooting in the cool Of the
day. They shot very badly, but they
had to look at the target, and that was
comparative safety. They got tired of it
at last, and she sat down under one Of
the great oak trees hanking the garden
with the revolver in her lap, while he
sauntered across the grass to rearrange
the somewhat shaky target.
She was near the gate leading to the
road, and it was open, for the COWS had
gone that way to the farmyard, and in
June, 1898, gates that it was not an
imperative necessity to shut remained
open for GOODNESS sake.
And here the Adelphi melodrama
came in, and through the open gate,
too, heralded by "shouts outside
strange heart sickening clamor coming
up from the hush of evening distance
hoarse, scared yells, and the tramp Of
running feet and confused directions ap-
parently issued in many voices. And
through the open gate horror rushed,
a creature with dripping jaws and star
ing eyes, a big, black retriever, bearing
in it's strange, altered state but little
resemblance to the friendly, kindly dog
of few days back, and at its heels a
ooncourse of men armed with sticks and
farm implements and any weapon that
could be hastily snatched up, but none,
alas, with gun.
Evey Lancaster, revolver in hand,
with shells still remaining in couple
of chambers, saw the mad dog enter the
meadow and make straight across it out
over the sunburned grass to where Ed
ward Vereker was walking toward the
target. She was under the shadows of
the hedge, broadside on, as it were, and
the dog never noticed her.
Edward Vereker turned on his heel at
the sound of the noise at the gate, and,
like Evey, took in the situation at a
glance. But he was absolutely unarm-
ed-he had not even a stick, and he
was alone in the midst of wide field
with death in its foulest form not 80
yards from him.