Freeland tribune. (Freeland, Pa.) 1888-1921, 1902-01-20
Woman VS.. Woman.

she was alone again. Bewildered, she
turned the note over in her hand.
There was no address upon it. She
rose hurriedly and hastened to the
door of the summer house. A mans
figure, evidently that of a gentleman,
was disappearing out of the garden
gate on to the high road 1t was too
late to recall him.
She opened his note mechanically.
In the dim light it was difficult to
trace the writing, but second glance
; left no room for doubt
:, THE Societies Office, Stellenbosch.
ITO Mrs. de la F.:
Have you procured the dispatch
case carried by the officer, j. B., yet?
If so, the bearer of this is to be trust
ed; give it to him. If you have not
yet secured it, tell him when to see
you again. -. X. de W."
Muriel drew her breath sharply. She
sat motionless, her brain busy. She
realized at once that she had been
mistaken for somebody in the pay of
the Beers; a plot was Matching, and
She
At that moment she heard foot
steps hurrying down the pathway. She
thrust the note in the bosom of her
dress. Suppose the messenger had
discovered his mistake, and was re-
turning? Her heart beat wildly. With
sudden resolve Muriel had made up
her mind. The summer house had an
inner room, to which small doorway
gave admittance. Opening the door she
plunged into the darkness. Holding
her breath, she peered through the
half-open door, not daring to close it
for fear of making noise. A man
entered the summer house. A quick
sigh of relief escaped Muriels lips. 1t
was not the messenger. She glanced
at the mans face; then started back
in horror. She recognized him as
man she had frequently seen in the
hotel; but his eyes were now blood
shot, his expression wild, his manner
distraughS
John Beresford (for it was he) drew
a revolver from his coat and raised
it against himself.
Muriel waited no longer. With
little cry she flung open the door and
threw herself upon the man. The re-
volver fell from his hand.
"Oh. stop, stop" she cried. "You
can't know what you are doing"
John Beresford stared at her as
though she were a ghost. He stood
motionless, his arms hanging Imply by
his side, his wild eyes searching her
own.
Cant | help you?' whispered Mu-
riel gently, all the sympathy of her
nature going out toward him. please
let me try"
Help! l am beyond help" echoed
the man. struggling with the words.
Leave me, for PHYS sake, Mrs. Molly
neux." There is only one way out of
this."
How do you know my name?"
asked Muriel, in surprise.
"MolyneuX was an old pal of mine,"
answered the other. "He would not
speak to me now"
A sudden inspiration flashed across
Muriers brain. What is your name?"
she asked.
John Beresford. For PHYS sake
Leave me-"
Your initials are ]. B., then? Have
y<S-are The dispatches"
"How do you know about that"
said John Beresford, raising his head
with CLEAN of hope in his eyes. Not
q soul but ,,vceif and tba thiaf l,pouc
that it was stolen from me within the
last "a hours"
Mrs. de la Fame glided down the
tootpath leading toward the summer
house she was dressed in white. AS
she drew near she caught the sound
of voices, and walked slowly past the
doorway.
She gave a little dry cough when
she recognized John Beresford and Mu-
riel Molyneux.
She seemed annoyed to find the sum-
mer house occupied at that moment.
She paced the footpath for few mo-
ments and then returned to the hotel.
She went to the pigeonhole where she
SeueTdlly lOuHu ueT leIIeTS anu Cele-
grams. 1t was empty Soon after
midnight she went to the pigeonhole
again. There was sealed packet
waiting for her. With a sigh of relief
she carried it hastily to her room and
read:
THE Societies Office, Stellenbach.
"ro Mrs. de la F.:
Have you procured the ]. B. docu
ments yet? If SO, the bearer of this is
to be trusted. Give them to him. If
you have not yet secured them, tell
him when to see you again.
-. X. de W."
A second note in another handwrit-
ing was lnclosed:
"Madam-Not finding you this even
ing at the appointed place, am leav-
ing this note for you at the hotel
shall be there tomorrow evening at
$50 to receive your answer.
-. X. deW.'s Messenger"
Mre. de la Fame slept the sleep of