Abilene weekly reflector. [volume] (Abilene, Kan.) 1888-1935, 1898-12-01

ONE OF LIES RoaAs0Es'

"Amd tomorrow you leave me and
20 back to that horrid London"
"Only for three months" dearest.
Then shall come back to Rocksea
and claim YOU
Jessie Poole laid her pretty head
contentedly on the rough tweed
shoulder of the Norfolk jacket.
Will Preston was clever young ar
list Looking around for a suitable
place at which ITO stay the summer,
he had stumbled across lhe little
creeper-clad cottage where Jessie
Poole lived and nursed her lbed-rid-
den father. and had induced them to
let him make their home his abode
during his stay. A thorough woman
was Jessie, and as such she appealed
to the artists temperament. Beautl"
full she could hardly be called, but
her clear gray eyes and the curve OF
her SMALL firm mouth went straight
to Will Preston's heart, and before he
was aware of it the inevitable had
happened.
Presently the shapely head was
raised from the collar of the Norfolk
Jacket and a low voice inquired:
"What are you going to do with
yourself this afternoon, WHIP
"0h. I'm going to row out to that
picturesque old wreck, and take a few
sketches of it,"
I "But you're not going alone, Will.
are YOU? You know it's off a very
dangerous part of the coast, and
there are a lot of cross currents and
sunken rocks"
! ooh, that's all right, little one.
Your old admirer, Jem Barclay, is
bossing the show He knows every
inch of the coast, and I've every con-
fidence in him: so You need have no
qualms, dear. that | shall not be back
safe before dark"
As he mentioned the name OF his
guide Jessie looked up suddenly and
seemed about to speak. then appeared
to alter her mind, and was silent.
80 ta-ta, dearest he went ON,
bending down and fondly kissing the
sweet lips uptuned to his. 81 must
be off. The tide will soon be on the
turn and its a good two miles row"
The wreck toward which the little
boat was rapidly cutting fts way was
all that remained of the schooner
Bonnie Belle. A year ago she had
been driven by a storm onto sunken
rock. At high tide only few feet OIL
her sole remaining stump of mast
was visible. but at low water she wa.
only partially submerged,
As Will Preston lay back in the
stern of the boat lingering the tillei
ropes, he could NOT burt admire The
stalwart figure in front OF him. Jen
Barclay was young fisherman liv
ing down in the village about mil,
from Jessie Poole's lonely cottage
Over six feet in height. and proper
tionately broad. his muscles stood on
like bands of steel as he pulled untir
ing at the oars.
Soon they reached the wreck, and
as it was now low tide, the boat wa
pulled alongside, and they clambere'
up onto the slippery deck. Tn,
schooner was but mere shell afte
all, and as Win peered down througl
what had once been the hatchway
nothing was TO be seen but the ink,
blackness OF the water in the hold
He was startled from his reverie by
a laugh from his companion.
"a man wouldna do much good
Mr.. Preston, once he got down there
eh?"
There was something in the man
tone that Jared unpleasantly upo
the artists ear, and he answere
shortly:
mo; ! think he could say good-by
TO life"
Then you can say goodbye I
yours, for that's where you are goinl
my fine gentleman"
Will Preston turned quickly roun
In amazemep at the words, whel
with an oath, Barclay flung himse
upon him, and bore him backward
The back OF his head struck the dec
with a crash, and he lost conscious
ness.
When his senses came slowly bac
to him, he found himself popped wit
hte boad JsacL anatuof tho ,naet a.