The St. Louis Republic. [volume] (St. Louis, Mo.) 1888-1919, 1903-02-01
CHAPTER XyIr-CoNTTNUED.

I mean to take It easy" Macwilliams
turned on his back and stretched out his
legs on the seat opposite.
Where do you suppose those men sprang
from? Were they following us all the
timer"
Perhaps: or else that message got over
the wire before we cut 1t, and they've been
lying in wait for as. hey were probably
watching King and his sailors for the last
q BIZ or so, but they didn't want him. They
Wanted her and the money. 1t was pretty
exciting, wasn't it? How's your shoulder!
Its a little stiff, thank you." said Lang
ham. He stood up and by peering over the
hood could Just see the top of Clay's SOM
trero rising above 1t where he sat on the
back seat. -,
YOU and Hope all right up there. Clay?'
he asked.
The top of the sombrero moved slightly,
and Langham took 1t as a sign that all was
we'll. He dropped back into his seat be-
side MacWilliams, and they both oreathed
a long sigh of relief and content. Lang
hams wounded arm was the one nearest
Williams, and the latter parted the torn
sleeve and examined the furrow across the
shoulder with u~nconcealed envy.
Il am afraid it won't leave a scar" he
said, sympathetically.
Won't it?' asked Langham, in some con-
Germ.
The horses had dropped into a walk, and
tbC ptdukS u bhS bSAhA hhShl p'S - spa
upon the two boys, and the rustling of the
great leaves above their heads stilled and
6pieted them so that they unconsciously
spoke in whispers.
Clay had not moved since the horses
turned OF their own accord into the valley
of the palms. He no longer feared pursuit
nor any interruption to their further prog
ress. His only sensation was one of utter
thankfulness that they were well out Of it.
and that Hope had been the one who had
helped them in their trouble; and his dear
est thought was that, whether she wished or
not, he owed his safety. and. possibly, his
life, to her.
She still crouched between his knees upon
the broad footboard, with her hands clasped
in front of her. and looking ahead into the
vista of soft, mysterious lights and dark
shadows that the moon cast upon the road.
Neither OF them spoke, and as the silence
continued unbroken. it took a weightier sig
nifcance. and at each added second of time
became more full of meaning.
The horses had dropped into a tired walk,
and drew them smoothly over the white
road. From behind the hood came broken
snatches of the boys talk, and above their
beads the heavy leaves of the palms bent
I'D bowed as though in benediction. A
y erm breeze from the land filled the air
with the odor of ripening fruit and pun
gent smells. and the silence seemed to en-
velop them and mark them as the only
van SiCdtuitS dWdhe III tHe brilliant tTOp-
ics Anight.
Hope sank slowly back, and as she did SO
her shoulder touched for an instant against
Clay's knee. She Strengthened herself and
made a movement as though to rise. Her
nearness to him and something in her at.i-
tude at his feet held Clay in a spell. ne
bent forward and laid his hand fearfully
upon her shoulder. and the touch seemed to
stop the blood in his veins and hushed the
words upon his lips. Hope raised her head
slowly, as though with great effort.
and looked into his eyes. 1t seemed to him
that he had been looking into those same
eyes for centuries, as though he had AWAY
known them, and the soul that looked ont
OF them into his. He bent his head lower
and stretching out his arms drew her to
1in, and the eyes did not waver. He
f&lsed her and held her close against his
breast. Her eyes faltered and closed.
Hope" he whispered, Hope" He
stopped lower and kissed her, and his Inns
told her what they could not speakand
they were quite alone.
CHAPTER ".
An hour later Langham rose with a nro-
testing sigh and shook the hood violently
II sayT' he called. Are YOU asleen nm
there? Wen never get home at this rate
Doesn't Hope want to come back here and
go to sleepg"
Tho carriage stopned and +ba -