The Muskogee cimeter. [volume] (Muskogee, Indian Territory, Okla.) 1901-19??, 1904-09-01

turned the key on the outer eide,
banged the hall door, and was zone
Gone!
Minutes may have passed before |
realized the meaning Of the childish,
grotesque impulse. I was locked in
end the key lay in Jeans pocket.
It was barely half.past when the
hall door opened. heard Miss Ron.
aid rustic through. listened. She
seemed to be moving quickly. Yes;
she had sung her song. and come
straight home-the expression on that
madman's face had frightened her
Ten minutes later, when that key
turned again, and jean Lorrimer
strobe Ito the smoke haze, I was
reading magazine myself, and laugh.
ing as only man laughs who sees
deepest humor where other men see
nothing.
But the end was not yet.
When | rubbed my eyes next morn.
ing Jeans bed was eloquently empty.
He had gone out, heard. At midday
Jean was still out. All, sulky, of
course! I strolled out at length, in.
different as to the remainder Of his
movements. As ] turned down the
square telegraph messenger scurried
past. But l was thinking hard of an
oval face. with dancing, pansy soft
brown eyes. Jean had had his chance;
how to find mine-or make It!
Half-past s, when desolate, glum, I
turned back for home. Even that
golden, glorious afternoon had palled,
and as for life ahead, without Miss
May Ronald's laugh ard glance
But Mrs. Corbould was lowering
mysteriously in the hall.
"Gone!" ratified. II seemed that
all had flown.
heard Mrs. Corbould go out. The
door Of her rOom--our own room again
now-stood mournfully ajar; a cage
from which our precious songster had
hown. Something made me tiptoe
in, to look. to realize in full.
The awful, the indescribable silence
Of it-that tried to speak to me! just
that faint scent Of violets clung there;
nothing more-our dream voice was
gone. The piano was mutely, appeal.
ingly open. Quite unthinkingly ran
my finger along the white keys, to
hear their sound again-but how diff.
ferent the sound! And then / shot
back from 1t and stood perfectly still,
because Of sudden there had come a
timid tapping at the folding doors
from our side of them. Jean! The
sly, desperate Jean! He was tapping
to her. 1t had come to that.
What next? Why, as I held my
breath. drinking in the exquisite irony
Of it. beneath those doors the edge
of something white was pushed and
fiuttered. A note, just visible in the
dusk. Heavens, he had written!
l never hesitated. Softly ] closed
the door, lit the gas. and. as with
slow Indifference, drew away his note.
Dear. dear Miss Ronald: Speak
once more I must. at any cost. It
spells death or life now! Tell me-
tell mo that you were not offended be.
yond hope at my bitter words last
night; that you did not leave me In
that way from sheer aversion! It
would kill me, but must know to.
night. Dare l hope afresh? await
your dear finality ON this cold side of
the folding doors. Yours ever. Jean
Lorrimer, artist"
That was It. do not think
raused an instant, because my glance
happened to focus pen and ink on the
sideboard. Revenge-revenge for all!
sat down In q corner and wrote up.
on the reverse side of his own note
raper; wrote In stir, feminine hand,
and purposely misspelled his name.
o. II the folding doors had crashed In
al that moment!
"Mr. Lorrimer: As you insist, I
must answer what soma woman ,nioht