The Bossier banner. [volume] (Bellevue, Bossier Parish, La.) 1859-1952, 1900-06-07

hand in welding huge knife over
small bunch of parsley. Harry had
torn his handkerchief into strips. and
tied up the injured member. He had
kissed the palm and said: "You have
such pretty hands, Norine!"
She had smiled back at him, saving:
"Ihey are not afraid of work.. And
he had answered, with the pride of
personal possession: 'They are not
afraid of anything
All, well! She reused herself with a
sigh.
That was all SO long ago,
And time works changes as we know"
The milk on the range was at boiling
point. She added teaspoonful of vim
egar to the foaming mass in the sauce
pan, and, quickly removing the same,
poured the strange-scented mixture
through fine wire sieve. Her remedy
and refreshment were in readiness
the potent "whey" dear to the heart of
transatlantic physicians.
Hark! Again!
She set down the bowl hurriedlv.
Nearer that tread-and nearer! It was
on the back porch now. He-whoeyer
he. was-had laid one hand upon the
window frame-was trying twas
shaking it softly.
Involuntarily Nurse Norine stepped
back. She was not one of your heroic
women. She could feel her heart
pounding, until it seemed to strain its
cords as hound strains its leash.
Ought she turn out the light? Should
she try to leave the spot?
Thank God!" she painted, Bessie
will never learn nursing
Although the association of bur
glary with nursing was decidedly IL
logical.
There was grating sound at the
window.
Should she-how could she-arouse
the servants? And if there was to be
a sudden summons-confus it
| might mean death for her frail pa
| tient. Had not the doctors declared
that shock would cause cardiac col
| lapse? No. She must confront what
danger there might be-alone.
The window was lifted by strong,
stea1thy hand. A blurred, wriggling
shadow fell across the floor.
'Now! breathed Nurse Norine.
| ssNowi"
| Her professional habit of self-con-
tro1-the sense of responsibility to her
| patient-these sustained her. just as
the clump of shoes struck the floor,
she advanced. A lofty, ill-clad figure
confronted her. A face, indistinguish-
able between slouch hat and chin
bandage, was near her own. A grimy
hand gripped her throat.
Keep still" commanded the voice
back Of the swathing handkerchief.
keep still"
The command was superfuous, with
the herculean grip of those strong fin
gers at her throat.
81 won't hurt you," went on the au-
tocratic voice. "Not If you don't make
a racket. He isn't home-the master.
/ saw that in the papers. want her
jewels-she's dying. She won't miss
them. Where are they7 Are they in
the secret closet on the dressing-room
at the head of the private staircase? /?
That is where my wife kept He
broke off abruptly. where are they?''
The grip on her throat relaxed.
II know where you mean," she
cried. in her surprise-her bewilder-
Iment. Il know"
Why should she not know-she to
whom this house had been wedding
gift! She, who had once placed her
own jewels in that same receptacle.
/ She who had come back as q paid
servitor to the scene Of her only full,
real, transcendent happiness!
/ "Quick, then! Quick!"
An encouraging oath from outside
the window reached them. Again the
mans fingers closed around the
smooth throat. "You know. Bring
them, then-or, wait-I'll go with you.
But no noise, you understand. Not q
sound, or" His right hand slid
backward. He shook before her eyes
the little toy Of metal and wood he
drew forth. II can find the place
Alone" he said. And then. to him
without: Bring the cord, Marty!"
In that instant Of diverted attention
/ she wrested herself free.
'Listen!" she gasped. 'sThe woman
is dying. Any commoticn will kill her
at once. And / cannot-O!"
Once more the fingers, fierce in q
convolution born Of rage, were at her
throat, and the masked face bent
lower.
''You must! You shall-or, by"
The fingers tangled in chains
mere thread of gold. Something fell,
with mellow clatter to the floor. The
man stopped hastily. He picked up
i the fallen bauble.
don't take that!" entreated the
nurse. She had fallen back once more.
1T is Of no value. That is of no in.
trinsic value. It is mine-only mine
Give it to mel"
She was white as death, and shiver-
ing, when she held out piteous, en-