Wheeling Sunday register. [volume] (Wheeling, W. Va.) 1882-1934, 1899-11-26
THE STOLEN DAY.
%<<->>%>%>-<><-%->>>

the veranda, were being surveyed by
Mignon Delarue, her nose tip-tflted
frUra her retreat in the depths OF a
long-armed chair. She wore pique
riding habit and muslin-covered pith
hat, with strings tied under her chin
an s:nbecoming costume to anyone else,
but one which showed her mischievous
face and plump little figure to advant-
age. She was curled up in restful in
difference in the chairs embrace, but
her eyes were alert and wicked. The
two young men continued to stand be-
fore her.
Mother goes to Barukhabad by the
$50 tomorrow, breakfasts with the
Blakes, tiffins with the Champions,
doesn't come back till dinner.
want to make the most of my time,
too. Suggest plan, please"
Mr.. Archibald Cotter, joint Magis-
trate, looked his disapproval of the UNI
dutiful infection of her remarks. He
was sober-minded, conscientious
young man, as befitted person of his
responsible position, and he felt that
the fiippant tone OF his superior officers
daughter was disrespectful to the SUI
perior officers wife Nevertheless, hav-
ing been dragged at chariot wheels long
enough to have learned discretion, he
said nothing.
Bobby Lancaster, however, was not
SO scrupulous. Bobby was a. cousin,
which gave him an advantage; he was
81 to Cotter's 25, which made him
reckless; and a certain cousinly SINH
larity OF tastes, born in part of early
childhood together, made him join with
the whole heart of youth in Mignon's
flights of energy. He was policeman,
and as he had been pitchforked into
the department by his uncle without
undergoing the refining process of ex-
animation he still retained the genial
spirit of boyhood. He beamed now
and spoke responsive.
"a whole day off? Good! Let's go
huntin'. There's an old gray jackal
that lives"
mo CO." said Mignon emphatically.
'eBimi's lame from the last day. Mr..
Cotter. say something"
Doesn't your mother want you to do
anything for her?" said Cotter grave
~.
Mignon looked at him for moment
with silent scorn. Then she turned to
Bobby.
Suggest another plan-quick!
Rats
'sToo messy; and don't like killing
little things that squeak"
well, then-grand idea! Borrow
old Sher Afzul's boat, start early, sail
down the river as far as we can get,
shoot magyar" (crocodile,) "and take our
tif1in."
'That sounds good" Mignon bit her
riding whip approvingly. But how
are we to get back?"
"Oh, bother gettin' back" said Bobby.
81 hate thinking such long way
ahead. It's rippin' plan, 1 think"
cts nothing of the kind" said Cot
ter, aghast. Don't do it, Miss Delarue,
for heavens sake! The river is not
safe for boat further than the ferry,
and March is too hot to spend day
in the blazing sun. I know your father
and mother
They're away"
Cotter groaned.
Besides Look here, Lancaster,
you've got your works. / can't go, of
course, and l wouldn't if l could, be-
cause / think it is mad project alto
gether, and you-you mustn't. It's
leading Miss Delarue into danger, no
less"
''Danger?' said Mignon, with spark
ling eyes, my dear Mr.. Cotter, you
could not recommend the scheme
more strongly. 1t shall be done. l
will be ready at tomorrow morning,
Bob"
81 refuse to allow it"
'sOh." Mignon's mouth gripped at
the corners. She rose from the chair
with all the dignity she could muster,
and she looked squarely at Cotter.
I'm going, if l have to go alone. That
won't be, though, for Bobby can easily
get through his mornings work in half
an hour, and you will be destestable-
riggish-horrible- you interfere
with him after that Come along, Bob;
I'm going to feed the dogs"
She swept off, and Lancaster, after a
deprecating look at Cotter, who re-
turned it with an angry glare, clanked
his spurred heels after her. Their
voices, interspersed with feminine
laughter, died away across the COM
pound.
Cotter thrust his hands savage1y into
his pockets and stared with unseeing
eyes at the dazzling sunshine. His
heart was not in tune with the beauty
of the northern Indian winter, with the