The Republican. [volume] (Mountain Home, Idaho) 1903-1909, 1905-08-29

the custom In New York. Blake
looked forward to what had ever
been a pleasure, with an aversion not
unmixd with fear.
He rang a bell and his valet re-
sponded.
"Mr. Burton will dine with me at
four O'clock" he said Until he
leaves I'm not at home to anyone
Make no mistake about this, Roberts
| want a light breakfast"
Blake carelessly glanced over a
newspaper With yawn he was
about to lay the paper aside, when he
noticed a headline descriptive of the
Booth performance of the preceding
evening. It was long article, but
Blake was so engrossed in its reading
that he paid no attention to the
Wallets announcement that his bath
was ready.
To the abject establishment of that
trained and sedate servant, Blake
gave a cry of terror and sprang from
his couch, upsetting a small table as
he rushed towards the window
In the full flood of light he again
read paragraph which had frozen
the blood in his veins. 1t was as fol
lows
Among the box-holders at thiA
notable performance was James
Blake, the famous Wall street oper-
ator and fnancier, whose recent adj
vent in New York was signaliZed by
market movement not yet forgotten.
Mr.. Blake's guests were General Mar
shall Garden, Miss Jessie Garden and
Miss Edith Hancock. of Cohasset,
Massachusetts. Miss Garden returned
a week ago from two years sojourn
abroad where her musical and arts
tic talents attracted nearly as much
attention as her rare beauty"
My God, this is awful-awful-
awful" groaned Blake. Get out of
here!" he shouted to his man. What
the devil do you mean, standing there
gaping at me? Bring me glass of
brandy, and be quick about it,"
He hurled the paper from him and
sank back into chair
The door bell rang, and at the
sound every nerve tingled with ter
ror. Was it John Burt? James
Blake was not a coward-as he had
proved a score Of times when his
mettle was put to the test-but from
the moment he went down to defeat
beneath sturdy blows he had respect
ed his boyhood conqueror.
The valet opened the door and
Blake heard the piping voice of tel
egraph messenger. He drew long
breath and tore open the envelope.
The message was from John Haw-
llins, and stated that he would ar
rive in New York on the following
morning
The little clock spasmodically
jingled the hour of noon. In four
short hours he would face John Burt!
He drank the brandy at gulp, and
plunged into a cool bath. He glared
at the tempting breakfast, but could
not taste it.
Take that stuff away and bring me
more brandy" he ordered.
Again he read the dreaded para
graph 1t had fascination he could
not resist. He sent for all the Sun
day journals and eagerly scanned
them for mention of the theater par
ty, but to his great relief found that
it appeared only in the one paper
Again he helped himself to the
brandy.
Come to think of it, John don't
read that cursed paper!" he ex
claimed half aloud. tits only an ac-
cident that l happened to see it. If
hadn't been there last night l never
would have glanced below the head
line. What chance is there for John
to see it? Not one in a million!"
He paced up and down the room,
and paused to survey his reflection in
mirror. His face was drawn, and
dark circles showed under his eyes,
The decanter was his only friend.
The grave face of the valet did not
disclose the establishment he felt
over the conduct of his, employer
Blake was almost abstemious in his
habits, and his sideboard was more
of an ornament than utility. In
this he had wisely patterned himself
after John Burt.
Shall | serve breakfast now, sir?"
asked Roberts.
Blake answered with a sullen mega.
tive and tossed off his fourth brandy.
1t sounded new note in the scale of
stimulation.
Il don't see why | should go into
such beastly funk over this affair.""
he muttered. ITS no crime to be in
love with a woman. She doesn't be-
long to him. They're not even en-
gagged. Suppose he does love her?