Ottumwa tri-weekly courier. [volume] (Ottumwa, Iowa) 1903-1916, 1906-06-30
THE
MAN ON THE BOX
By HAROLD MacGRATH
Author Of The Grey Cloak 1.-THE puppet Crown"
Copyright, 1894. Tho B0bbs.Merr.n Company.

political nor diplomatic" The count
drew his gloves thoughtfully through
his fingers. ri shall OF course pay
my respects to my ambassador. Do
recollect your saying that you be-
1onged to the United States army?"
ri recently resigned. My post was
in wild country, with little or moth
ing to do; monotony and routine
"You limp slightly?"
"a trifiing mishap, "-modestly.
"Eh, you do wrong. You may soon
be at war with England. and having
resigned your commission, you would
lose all you had waited these years
for"
Warburton smiled 1--WE shall not
go to war with England"
"This army Of yours is small"
well, yes; but made Of pretty good
material-aghting machines with
brains"
"Ha!" The count laughed softly.
bah! how detest all these cars and
ships! Will you believe me. had
rather my little chateau, my vineyard,
and my wheat fields. than all the or
ders. Eh, we'll, my country:
there must be some magic In that
phrase OF all loves, that Of country
is the most lasting. Is that Balzac?
do not recall Only once in CEN
fury do we find man who is willing
to betray his country, and even then
he may have for his purpose Meth
er hate, revenge, nor love Of power"
A peculiar gravity sat on his mobile
face, caused perhaps, by some disagree
able inward thought.
Glow long shall you be in Washing
ton?" asked Warburton.
The count shrugged. t'who can
say?"
ri go to Washington myself within
few days."
"Till we meet again, then, Mon
sieur."
The count lifted his hat, courtesy
which was gracefully acknowledged by
the American; while the clerks at the
desk eyed with tolerant amusement
these polite but rather unfamiliar GER
emonies Of departu- J.. These foreign
ers were odd buffers.
"a very decent chap" unused War
burton, "and mighty shrewd hand
at poker-for foreigner. He is going
to Washington: we shall meet again.
wonder if she's in the restaurant
now"
Mi. Roberts appetite, for . healthy
young man. was strangely injurious.
He searched the menu from top to
bottom, and then from bottom to top;
nothing excited his palate. Whenever
persons entered, he would glance up
eagerly, only to feel his heart sink
lower and lower. don't know how
many times he was disappointed. The
waiter ahemmed politely. Warburton,
IN order to have an excuse to remain,
at length hit upon partridge and q
pint Of Chablis.
Nine o'clock. Was It possible that
the colonel and his daughter were din
Ing In their rooms? Perish the posi-
bility! And he looked In vain for the
count. A quarter-past nine. Mr. Rob-
ert's anxiety was becoming almost I'M
endurable. Nine-thirty. He was about
to surrender in despair. His partridge
lay smoking on his plate, and he was
on the point of demolishing it, when,
behold! they came. The colonel en-
tered first. then his daughter, her
hand on-the-arm -of-the-count
Warburton never fully described to
me his feelings at that moment, but,
knowing him as 1 do, can put to-
gether very respectable picture of the
chagrin and CONSERVATION that sat on
his countenance.
To think of being nearly six days
aboard Mr.. Robert once bawled at
me, wrathfully, "and not to know that
that Russian chap knew her!" 1t was
almost incredible that such thing
should happen.
The three sat down at table seven
times removed from, Warburton's. He
could see only an adorable profile and
the colonels handsome but care-worn
face. The count sat with his back
turned. In that black evening gown
she was simply beyond the power Of
adjectiyes. What shoulders, what an
Incompatible throat! Mr.. Roberts
bird grew cold; the bouquet from his
glass tainted and died away. How her
face lighted when she laughed, and
she laughed frequently What deli
cious curve ran from her lips to her
young bosom! But never once did she
look in his direction.
At ten o'clock Miss Annesley rose,
and the count escorted her to the
elevator, returning almost Immediate
ly. He and the colonel drew their
heads together. From time to time
the count shrugged, or the colonel
shook his head. Again and again the
Russian dipped the end Of his cigar In
to his coffee-cup, which he frequently
replenished.
But for Mr.. Robert the gold had
turned to gilt. the gorgeous to tho
gaudy. She was gone. The magma