The San Francisco call., 1904-03-20

Trumpet, Essex attended the funeral
OF his chief. He and Mrs. WiIlers
and Edna. in company with the young
woman who did the Fashions and
Foibles" column. were in one OF the
carriages that Mariposn had seen from
the hilltop. Mrs. Willers was silent on
the long, slow drive. She had hon
ored her chief who had been just to
her. Miss PEBBLES, the FASHIONS and
FOibles" young woman, was so en-
crossed by her fears that a change Of
ownership I'm The Trumpet would rob
her OF her employment that she could
talk of nothing else. To Edna. the
sensation of being IN a carriage was so
novel It occupied her TO the exclusion
Of oil other matters and she looked
cut OF the window with n face of
sparkling interest.
That evening, after the funeral, Es-
sex was preparing to work late. He
had quilted" the pile of books, and
with their contents we'll assimilated
was ready to write his three columns.
There was no carline on the street,
and traffic at that hour on that quiet
thoroughfare was over for the day.
For an hour he wrote easily and flu-
entity, The sheets, Rlistening with
damp ink, were pushed In front of
him IN a careless pile. Now and then
he paused to consult his books, which
were arranged round him on the table,
open at the place he needed for refer
ence. The smoke wreaths were thick
round his head and the room was hot.
It was nearly ten o'clock when he
heard the noisy entrance of his fellow
lodger, Harney was evidently suffi-
ciently we'll to go to work again and to
come home drunk. Essex listened
with suspended pen and a half smile
on his dark face, which turned to a
frown as he realized that the STUN
bling feet had turned his way, The
knock on the door came next and
simultaneously Il opened and Harney's
head was thrust In.
What the devil do you want?" said
the scribe. sitting erect. his pipe in his
hand, the other waving the smoke
strata that hung before his face,
Let me come and get warm a min
ute. I'm wheeling again, and my
rooms cold as a tomb. Don't mind
me--all want is to set before the fire
for a spell"
ne Sl04GQ IN before l1e pcrnlSSlOu
was granted and sank down in the
armchair, hitching 1t nearer to the
CRATE. He was a man to whom intox-
ication lent a curiously amiable and
humorous quality. The ugliness and
evil that were so evidently part of his
nature were not so apparent, and he
became cheerful, almost genial
Sitting close to the fire, he held out
his hands to the blaze, then. stealing a
look at Essex over his shoulder. saw
that he was rehlling his pipe.
Been to the funeral?" he said.
Essex grunted an assent.
The family there"
None of the ladies'; only Win
Shackleton."
Harney was silent; then, with the
greatest care, he took up a piece OF
coal and set It on the fire. The action
required all the ingenuity of which he
was master. His body responded to
his intoxication, while, save for an un-
usual fuency Of speech, his mind ap-
peared to remain unaffected. After he
had set the coal in place he looked at
Essex, who was staring vacantly at
him, thinking Of the second part of his
article.
Did you notice a tall, f1ne-looking
young lady there with dark red hair %
said Harney without removing his
CLASSY gaze from the man at the table.
Essex did not move his eyes, but
their absent hxity suddenly seemed
to snap into a change of focus betok-
ening attention. Gazing at Harney, he
answered coldly:
No; I saw no one like that To
whom are you referring?"
"Oh, / dunno, l dunno" responded
the other with clumsy shrug of his
shoulder, and turning back to the fire
over which he covered.
But you know her anyhow" he
added. half to himself
Whom do I know? Turn around" ="
The man turned, looking little de-
fant.
Now, what are you trying to say?"
II amt trying to say nuthin'. All I
done is to ask yer if yer saw a lady
tall, with red hair-at the funeral.
You know her, cause I've seen you
with her."
who is she?"
We'll" slowly and uneasily. she's
called Moreau."
the daughter of a mining man, who
died last spring in Santa Barbara?"
Yes; that's her all right. She's
called Moreau, but it amt her name.'
''Moreau isn't her name? What is
her name. then?"
II dunno" he spoke stubbornly and
turned back to the fire.
Turn back here" said Essex In s.
suddenly authoritative tone; explain
to me what you mean by that"
II don't mean nuthin'," said the
other, looking sullenly defiant, "and I
don't know nuthin' only that that amt
her true name"
What is her name? Answer me at
once, and no fooling."
'I dunno
Essex rose. Harvey, looking fright
ened, staggered to his feet, clutching
the mantelpiece. He half-raised his
arm as If expecting to be struck and
said loudly:
IF you want to know ask ShackIe-
tons widow. She knows"