Waterbury evening Democrat., 1906-10-29

uS tuOuSHt. IUu nave ulcue IT your own good opinion"
 Again Loder was silent; then he smiled. You have m oddly correct perception at times." he said. T sup pose have had lame sort of pride
 in keeping my name clean, but pride
 like that is out of fashion, and I've got
 to float with the tide" He laughed
 q short laugh that Chllcote had heard
 once or twice before. and, crossing
 the room. he stood beside his wis.
 itor. After all" he said, what busi-
 ness have I with pride, straight or
 lame2 Have my identity, if you want
 1t. When all defenses have been
 broken down one barrier won't save
 the town" Laughing again, he laid
 his hand on the others arm. Come"
 he said, "give your orders. I capitu-
 late"
 1 An hour later the two men passed
 from Loders bedroom, where the final
 arrangements had been completed,
 back into the sitting room. Loder came first in faultless evening dress.
 His hair was carefully brushed, the clothes he wore fitted him perfectly. To any glance. critical or casual, he was the man who had mounted the stairs and entered the rooms earlier in the evening. Chilcote's manner of walking and poise of the head seemed to have descended upon him with Chil- cote's clothes. He came into the room hastily and passed to the desk. T have no private papers," he said, ''so have nothing to lock up. Every thing can stand as it is. A woman named Robins comes in the mornings to clean up and light the fire; other wise you must shift for yourself. No body will disturb you. Quiet, dead quiet, is about the one thing you can count on."
 Chilcote, half halting in the door way, made an attempt to laugh. Of the two he was noticeably the more embarrassed. In Loder's we'll worn, well brushed tweed suit he felt strand ed on his own personality, bereft for the moment of the familiar accessories that helped to cloak deficiencies and keep the wheel of conventionality com. fortably rolling. He stood unpleasant. ly conscious of himself, unable tc shape his sensations even in thought. He glanced at the fire, at the table, finally at the chair on which he had thrown his overcoat before entering the bedroom. At the sight of the coat his gaze frightened, the aimlessness forsook him, and he gave an exclama- tion of relief.
 By Jovew he said. 'T clean for got" --
 "What?" Loder looked round.
 "The rings" He crossed to the coat and thrust his hand into the pocket. "The duplicates arrived only this after. noon-the nick of time, ehT' He spoke fast, his fingers searching buslly. Oc. cupation of any kind came as boon.
 Loder slowly followed him, and as the box was brought to light he leaned forward interestedly.
 "As I told you, one is the copy of an old signet ring, the other plain band -a plain gold band like wedding ring" Chilcote laughed as he placed the four rings side by side on his palm. -'T could think of nothing else that would be wide and not ostenta. tious. You know how I detest dis play"
 Loder touched the rings. You have good taste" he said. Let's see if | they serve their purpose" He picked them up and carried them to the lamp.
 Chilcote followed him. ''That was an ugly wound" he said, his curiosity as Loder extended his finger. How did you come by lti'
 The other smiled. "It's a memento," he said.
 "Of braveryT
 "No; quite the reverse" He looked again at his hand, then glanced back at Chilcote. "No," he repeated. with an unusual impulse of confidence. Tt serves to remind me that am not ex. I have been fooled like other men," -..
 That implies womanw ar | 'Yes." Again Loder looked at the scar on his finger. 'T seldom recall the thing, it's so absolutely past. But I rather like to remember it tonight. I rather want you to know that I've been through the fire. It's sort of guaran- .ee."
 Chilcote made a hasty gesture, but he other interrupted it. | "0h, know you trust me. But you're giving me risky post. I want you to tee that women are out of my line luite out of it."
 But. my dear chap'-
 Loder went on without needing. This thing happened eight years ago fl Santasalare," he said, a little place ,etween Luna and Pistoria-a mere handful of houses wedged between two ills; regular relic of old Italy crum- 'ling away under flowers and sunshine. with nothing to suggest the present entury except the occasional passing f train round the base of one of the ills. hnd literally stumbled upon the 'lace on a long tramp south from switzerland and had been tempted into stay at the little inn. The night after ny arrival something unusual occur ed There was an accident to the rain at the point where it skirted the 'illage.
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