The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1897-07-15

able agitation.
what the dickens are you doing
here?" he exclaimed.
Just what we'd like to know" was
Walters equivocal answer. ''Have you
any explanation to offer before you are
marched off to iail?"
The fat man rubbed his eyes. Then
he gazed about the room, and his jaw
fell.
"I-hold on" he gasped.
81 intend to-" assented Walter.
81 wish you'd put that internal re-
velver up" gasped out the fat man, agi-
tatedly. ''Do l look like a thief, sir?
The explanation is simple enough.
got into the wrong room"
Don't believe him. cried Lucille.
Its what they always say"
Fact, | assure you, declared the fat
man. at comes of haUing the same key
fit all these apartments. | live above
here, and | stopped floor to soon"
do you commonly go to sleep in an
apartment without giving glance
around it?' asked Walter. ironically.
Not commonly; don't know wheth-
er you ride or not, but if you do you'll
understand; I've just been on a century
run; first of the season.
'Ah," murmured Walter, and dropped
his revolver. 81 begin to see"
Tired me all out. l didn't have the
strength of rat when | climbed up
those stairs; and just went to sleep in
the first chair l could find. You must
know me, sir. I've met you often com
ing in and out"
Exactly. | didn't recognize you for
moment" assented Walter, with great
cordially, slipping his revolver into his
pocket, and extending his hand. Glad
to make your acquaintance, sir
The pleasure is mine" said the stout
gentleman. He shook hands with them
both. by the way" he added, my
name is Clark, firm of Clark & Hopkins.
grOcers, around the corner Like to feel
| have the support of your trade, sir
Bring your wife around some day and
look over our store"
''Delighted," said Walter, with deep
gravity.
Nilt'l iilVbs uSStIiltI IltIlt. buD
I" she stopped. After all, what was
the use of explanations?
Look for you soon, then" declared
the fat man, and he numbered out of the
room.
Lucille looked after him desoairinglv
her first and.only burglar to turn out
a commonplace individual like this.
Then she turned about to Walter. Il
am sorry I troubled you" she said,
coldly.
NO trouble at all. answered Walter
81 was thinking of running up to say
good-by. [ start for Greece tomorrow"
Greece" Lucille sat down in the big
armchair rather suddenly. She felt a
little faint. "They're-they're fighting
there. It's dangerous isn't it?" she
asked.
"A correspondent has to take chances
you know. It's good thing-as far as
money is concerned, and | dare say I'll
get through all right; if not" he
laughed.
Lucille was not looking at him. She
stared down the street at forlorn little
Italian girl who was dancing to the
music of a hand organ. "Does Grace
Merton know you are going?" she asked
"No-yes-I don't know whether she
does or not. presume Whitley will tell
her tonight, What difference does that
make?"
81 thought you were engaged to her"
"Well I'm not" said Hammond,
bluntly. He hesitated a moment. III
tell you a secret. You can keep it. l
guess, and it's coming out next month,
anyhow. She's been engaged to Burt
Whitley for two years. but they wanted
to keep it quiet until she was 21.''
Lucille sat silent, twisting her hands
together. He looked down at her
flushed and changing face. "Of course.
if there was anyone that | cared for that
cared enough for me to ask me to stay,
it would be different" he said. "Atter
all, money isn't everything; and I can
earn enough now so it wouldn't be nee
essary-that is, if anyone cared"
He stood quiet for a moment Lucile's
eyes were still staring down the dusty
street, at the hand organ and the dane
ing girl Hammond held out his hand.
"Good-by, Lucille" he said.
"Good-by," she answered, Just touch
ing his warm hand with the tips of her
cold little fingers.
Hammond went downstairs and fin
ished packing. He looked over his let
ters and burned them, and sorted out his
photographs. After all, he might never
come back again-and after all, what
did it matter? He was going home to
say good-by to his father and mother
that night, but it still lacked an hour
of train time. Our special correspon-
dent sat down and stared gloomily out
of the window. The notes of a piano
came from the upstairs room.
An old tune, with a quaint refrain.
He hardly noticed it at first, but by de-
grees the melody penetrated his senses,
She was singing, too. He smiled bitter
ly to himself as he listened
Gould you come back to me, Douglas
In the old likeness that | knew,
l would be faithful, so faithful,
Douglas, Douglas, tender and true"
Three times Lucille repeated the rc-
frain, with strange persistency. Her
voice trembled and grew husky at last;
the notes on the printed sheet before