The Press., 1898-03-03
GREATEST OF THREE.

time of great danger and stood herself or the brink of another and greater peril. Eyey Lancaster was one of those wC- 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 Nereker, her hus- bands friend, since he found her so, and he himself as goodly a mau as you would meet on any summers day. Her husband, David Lancaster, was good ly man, too, and worthy of her and of Edward VerelIer, his friend.
 But there were three of them, anu three is an evil number concerning men and women.
 It was during the summer of 1895 that Edward Vereker and Evey, his friend wife, began to be more than friends. He was staying with the Lan- casters down in Surrey i'll their pretty little red house on the edge of the pret- ty little blue river, and David was go- ing up and down to London every day, because it was yet early, and the vari- ous 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 one s hands remained in one 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 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. l mean she was naturally good and had not become so by trying very hard. She had been well brought up; she read decent books, aud, therefore, only few, and she meant every word of her share ill the mar riage service.
 But, alas and alas, she was a woman, and a pretty one, and Edward Nereker was good looking and a man, though somewhat unusually moral and possess ed of a sense of honor. Moreover, they both loved David. But David was away all day, and-I mistrust June and the devil in a green garden!
 1 don't know that anything would have come of it if tragedy had not step ped in; Adelphi tragedy, battle, murder and sudden death ill one of its most ap- palling forms in the shape of hydropho- bia.
 Evey and Edward had Eeen 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 Smith & Wesson of he1 husbands, and they set up a mark in the meadow outside the garden, and, having prudently removed. the cows, practiced shooting ill 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 il at last, and she sat down under one oi the great oak trees flanking the garden with the revolver ill her lap, while ht sauntered across the grass to rearrangt the somewhat shaky target.
 She was near the gate leading to tht road, and it was open, for the cows haC gone that way to the farmyard, and il June, 1893, gates that it was not al imperative necessity to shut remained open for coolness' sake.
 And here the Adelphi melodram; came in, and through the open gate too, heralded by "shouts outside"-i strange heart sickening clamor coming up from the hush of evening distance hoarse, scared yells. and the tramp O running feet and confused directions ap parently issued in many voices. AnC through the open gate a horror rushed a creature with dripping jaws and star ing eyes, a big, black retriever, bearini in its strange, altered state but littl resemblance to the friendly, kindly dol of few days back, and at its heels F concourse of men armed with sticks ant farm implements and any weapon tha could be hastily snatched up, but none alas, with a gun.
 Evey Lancaster, revolver in hand with shells still remaining in coupl of chambers, saw the mad dog enter tn meadow and make straight across it ou over the sunburned grass to where Ed ward Vereker was walking toward tn target She was under the shadows 0 the hedge, broadside on, as it were, ant the dog never noticed her.
 Edward Vereker turned on his heel a the sound of the noise at the gate, and like Evey, took in the situation at glance. But he was absolutely unarm ed-he had not even a stick, and b was alone in the midst of wide fiel with death in its foulest form not 8 yards from him.
 Then Evey Lancaster, from where sh knelt on the grass under the hedge took aim and fired. She was his frien and knew that his life was at stake and that quickened tue presence 0 mind and the courage within her. Sh was made of British stuff, and tha steadied the shaking hand and kept tn revolver straight, and though the frs bullet went wide the second carrie, true; and the mad dog. with hideou yell, dropped disabled with a shattere shoulder not t5 paces from him. The the crowd closed in and put an end t everything.
 Five minutes later Edwar:i Ncreke and the woman who had saved him : leaving the excited villagers still clus tered round the horror on the grass went back into the garden.
 It was as much as she could do t twalk now that the strain was past, be ing only woman after all, and tn green garden was going round an round in a dim mist that smelled c gunpowder and grew blacker at ever step -..s.,.s'-, < He saw her falter and stop and wa only in time to catch her in his arms t prevent her collapsing on the lawn a his feet. The earth and sky migh wheel and melt into blackening mis