Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1907-02-13
BY ARTHUR STRINCER

as he stood with her in the cool and free
night air.
But once down on the sidewalk he caught
her shaking hand in his. and ran with her.
ran desperately and madly until the rattle
and CHATTER of hoofs broke on his 1t
was patrol-wagon rumbling round from
the avenue on the east. He would have
turned back, but at the curb in front of the
van Schaick mansion already a patrolman
Stood rappfng for assistance.
In his dilemma Durkin dropped breath
lessly down an area stairs. feeling the limp
weight of the woman on his body as he fell.
To Frances herself it seemed like the eff
fortress fall in nightmare; she could re-
member neither how nor when it ended only
she mad the sensation of being pulled sharp
ly across cold f1ag-stones. Durkin had drag
ged her in under the shadow of the heavy
brownstone steps, behind galvanized iron
carnage can, hoping against hope that he
had not been noticed, and silently praying
that If indeed the end was to come 1t might
not come In setting so sordd and mean
and small.
A street cat. lean and gaunt and hungry
looking, skunk like a shadow down the
area steps. The eyes of the two fugitives
watched 1t intently. AS it skunk and crept
from shadow to shadow it suddenly became
to the worn and depressed Durkin, a SYM
Dol or his own career, homeless and mi
gratory Hunger outlawed, pursued unrest
ing, ravenous and unappeased purloiner
of great city's scraps and tatters.
The SOFT pressure of Franks arm his
own drove the passing thought from his
mind. And they sat together on the stone
slabs. silently. hand in hand, till the hoofs
clattered and ratified past once more and
the street noises died down, and hastily
opened windows were closed and footsteps
no longer passed along the street above
them.
Then they ventured cautiously out and
waiting their chance, saunteTed decorously
toward the corner. There they boarded a
passing car, bound southwark and crowded
to the doors with the members of musical
club: who sang drunkeny and bois.erously
as they went.
1t seemed the most celestial of music
to Durkn, as he hung on a strap in their
midst with Franks warm body hemmed
In close to him, and the precious weight
OF it cfinging and swaying there from
his arm
Suddenly he looked down at her.
Where are you going tonight" he asked
Their eyes met. The tide of abandonment
that had threatened to engulf him slowly
subsidized. as he read the quiet pain in her
gaze.
II am going back to the Ralston,' she
said, with resoute simplicity.
But. Sood heavens, think of the riskv'
he sill half-heartedly pleaded. It's dan
gerOus now!''
My beloved own" she said with her
habitual slow little head shake. and with
a quietness of tone that carried a tacit
re2roof with it. life has far worse dam
gers than the RalstOn!"
She had felt Internationally, completely
drawn toward him a moment before while
still warm with her unuttered gratitude.
AS she thought of the indignity and danger
from which he had carried her she had
almost burned with the passion for some
fit compensation, without any consideration
Of self. Now. in her WEAKNESS of body and
nerve, he had unconsciousy unmasked her
own potential weakness to herself, and she
felt repealed from him, besieged and men,
aced by him. the kindest and yet the most
cruel of all her enemies.
TO be Continued TomorroW.l