Evening times-Republican. [volume] (Marshalltown, Iowa) 1890-1923, 1907-03-08
By KATHERINE CECIL
Copyright. 1909. by Harper & Brother.
CHAPTER III.
Author Of 1.-THE Circle" E

SIIhI Il GAb III.
r. leaving his house. Chilcote
Hill walked forward quickly and
aimlessly. With the sting of
~ the outer air the recollection Of
last nights adventure came back upon
him. Since the hour Of his waking 1t
had hung about with vague per-
sistence, but now In the clear light OF
day it seemed to stand out with full
er popularity.
The thing was preposterous, never
theless 1t was genuine. He was wear
ing the overcoat he had worn the night
before, and, acting on impulse he thrust
his hand into the pocket and drew out
the strangers card.
"Mr. John Loder" He read the name
over as he walked along, and 1t me-
chanically repeated itself in his brain.
falling into measure with his steps.
Who was John Loder? What was he?
The questions tantalized him till his
pace unconsciously Increased. The
thought that two men so absurdly
alike could inhabit the same city and
remain unknown to each other faced
him as a problem. 1t tangled with his
personal worries and aggravated them.
There seemed to be almost a danger in
such an extraordinary likeness. He be-
gan to regret his lmpetuosity in thrust
ing his care upon the man. Then,
again, how he had let himself 60 on
the subject Of lexington! How mar
rowly he had escaped compromise!
He turned hot and cold at the recollec-
ton Of what he had said and what he
might have said. Then for the frst
time he paused in his walk and looked
about him.
On leaving Grosvenor square he had
turned westward, moving rapidly till
the Marble arch was reached There,
still oblivious to his surroundings, he
had crossed the roadway to the Edg-
ware road, passing along it to the
labyrinth Of shabby streets that lie be-
hind Paddington. Now, as he glanced
about him, he saw with some surprise
how far he had come.
The damp remnants Of the fog still
hung about the housetops in a flmy
veil. There were no glimpses Of green
to break the monotony of tone. All
was quiet. dingy, neglected. But to
Chilcote the shabbiness was restful,
the subdued atmosphere satisfaction.
Among these sad houses, these passers-
BY. each filed with his own concerns,
he experienced sense Of respite and
relief. In the fashionable streets that
bounded his own horizon II man
paused in his walk to work out an idea
he instantly drew a crowd of inquist-
tive or contemptuous eyes. Here II a
man halted for half an hour it was no
body's business but his own.
Enjoying this thought. he wandered
on for close upon an hour, moving
from one street to another with steps
that were listless or rapid, as inclina-
ton prompted, Then, still acting with
vagrant aimlessness. he stopped In his
wanderings and entered a small eating
house.
The place was low ceiled and dirty,
the air hot and steaming with the
smell Of food, but Chilcote passed
through the door and moved to one OF
the tables with no expression of dis
gust and with far less furtive watch
fulness than he used In his own house.
BY a curious. mental twist he felt
greater freedom, larger opportunities
in drab surroundings such as these
than in the broad issues and weighty
responsibilities Of his own life. Choos-
ing corner seat, he called for coffee;
and there, protected by shadow and
wrapped in cigarette smoke. he set
about imagining himself some vagrant
unit who had slipped his moorings and
was blissfully adrift. 8 35 5s
The Imagination was pleasant while
it lasted, but with him nothing was
permanent. OF late the greater part
Of his sufferings had been comprised
In the irritable fickleness Of all his
aims-the distaste f6T and impossibili-
ty Of sustained effort In any direction.
He had barely lighted a second cigar
cite when the old restlessness fell
upon him. He stirred nervously In his
seat, and the cigarette was scarcely
burned out when he rose, paid his
small bill and left the shop.
Outside on the pavement he halted
pulled out his watch and saw that two
hours stretched in front before any
appointment claimed his attention. He
wondered vaguely where he might 60
to, what he might do, in those two
hours. In the last few minutes dis
taste for solitude had risen in his
mind, giving the close street loneli'
ness that had escaped him before.
AS he stood wavering cab passed
slowly down the street. The sight OF
a we'll dressed man reused the cab.
man. Flicking his whip, he passed
Chilcote close, feigning to pull up.
The cab suggested civilization. Chill
cote's mind veered suddenly, and he
raised his hand. The vehicle stopped,
and he climbed in.
"Where, sir?" The cabman peered
down through the roof door.
Chilcote raised his head. "Oh, any.
where near Pail Mall" he said. Then,
as the horse started forward, he put
up his hand and shook the trapdoor.
"Waitr' he called. I've changed my
mind. Drive to Cadogan gardens, No
49,"
The distance to Cadogan Gardens
was covered quickly. Chilcote had
hardly realized that his destination
h n,,1lod