The Birmingham age-herald., 1907-12-15

mask of black velvet, like the cloth
 which photographers use for their
 stand cameras, It could only have been
 there a few minutes for the whole
 body was still a-tremble with the purr
 and throb of the prisoned forces. Yet
 there was no one to be seen anywh ere
 about, But Vic Morris had no diffi- 'culty in assuring himself that the car
 was one. of those belinging to Mir.
 Kahn, No one else thereabeuts had
 anything of the kind.
 What was 1t doing there at this
 time of night?" heNwondered. Had he
 anything te do with the gift of the
 piano made to Vida by means of Billy
 Bryanf Was 1t likely or possible that
 lighthouseman, even one of long
 service, could have been able, with all
 the good will in the world, to spend
 such sum on a present to a daugh ter
 who was not his daughter7"
 This appeared so suspicious to Vie
 Morris that, though it certainly was
 no business of his, he considered that
 the circumstances Justified a tour of
 inspection round the cottage. In the
 gable window light still burned in Vida's window. But all else was dark. He discovered nothing till he fell over
 the empty plano case, with which he
 entangled himself. producing between tHoiu SuCil u nOise or TOlilnE thunder as 1t tumbled down the steps that he brought the angry face of Billy Bryan to an upper window.
 "Get away out of that, ye snealSin' houndF' he cried, trying to steal tho piano case that have to return car riage paid or pay for meself--sure, ye are that. I'll be afther putin good
 navy bullet through ye. ye snealkin' villain. I have got the range of that i. At. it with the toe of his number 16 shoe,
 goes a good bit farther than purga- thory doorl" The patience and circumspection with which Vic retired were such as he would have used in an old and dan gerous working of which he did not know the landmarks. But he reach ed the outer gate in safety, perhaps a lit- tie ashamed of himself. It was, of course, possible that the "Confidential"
 might have gone up to visit his mas
 tef, Jacob Romer. secretly, and that he had merely left his car there, drawn up out of reach of the casual passer- by while he transacted his business. Yes, of course that was 1t. What a jealous fool he was, after all! Would any have believed it of him, Ludovic Morris, hitherto as insensible as the average lamp post to the frou-frou of Iemlnlne SklftS.
 The car was still there, bedded in niche of shrubbery, and sending out
 upon the night an unfamiliar odor of oil and hot iron which strove, all too successfully, with the hale pine scents and the keen night breath of dew wet laurels Vic listened. From the cot! tage there came no sound of pursuit. One of Jacob Romer's pheasants down in some dell not far away sent up a
 curious half-human cry, a mere signal to it's mate doubtless, but in the dank darkness expressive as the book of
 Ecclesiastes of the painful and transi- tory nature of all things" Perhaps it 1 foresaw the day when Jacob Romer's l clients and friends would come forth arrayed for carnage. and when all the 1 pheasant kind hitherto mere domestic poultry would suddenly be slaugh- tered with arms of precision and count ed by the hundred head" like so many dead Boers on a South African battle field. .s5 sa A double glimmer on the steel levers, ! uncertain dull reflections of the padded leather, something which reduced the red of the side-lamps by the incursion of a more lurid light, caught Vic Nor ris' attention.
 He glanced behind him. He had been absorbed in the examination of the deserted car. Indeed his fingers had already been itching to get hold of the steering gear. Each culver of l the chassis took, him in the flores of his being.
 | But now there was something vaster | in force and bearing behind him. From the dark mass of the buildings which were in the general offices of Incu- 1 bus, Romer & Co.,, a clear, straw-col- ored flame mounted. Vic could see very little smoke, but he knew to a moment that the fire must be a se- rious one. He sprang into the drivers 1 place without a thought But before | he had drawn the lever or started the
 machine a figure sprang over the wall. | What are you doing with my car? ' Get outV
 1 It was James Kahn. But Vic, rec 1 ognizing his man, simply pointed with | his finger.
 "It's time we were both yonder." he
 said. Up with you, Mr. Kahnp' | And neither even thought of asking what the other had been doing there. They kept their eyes on the road, which l in the nearing light of the burning buildings became as day.
 Let her out! Let her rip!" said | Kahn, excitedly, reaching over to grasp
 the speed-lever.
 l "One at time, if you please" said VIC, nOldlnB nm at a ulSIdnce WlIH | a determined elbow. ."I am running | this car at present. Hands off. MT. 1 Kahn!"
 They raced down the long hill. and | Vic had just time to slow before they | struck a crowd of watching miners which filled all the wide square in front | of the burning Incubus offices. There was an ominous growl at the sight of | the yellow car. That was for its mas- | ter. Then cheer as Vic Morris was | discerned in the drivers sea-. A way
 was made for him. and Vic stopped the motor in bricked courtyard. the buildings about which were not con
 nected with the burning pile.
 Where Is the fire-engine?" he de- | manded, furiously
 1 Tt Is useless-the piping all cut to | ribbons" said one of the two men | whose position compelled them to be | faithful to the company, Hector Mc- l Kill and Walter Grinding.
 And the engine of No. 3 pit?'' "The men to man it could not be foundr cried Hector McKill. They had taken French -leave-thats your teaching, MT. Engineer Morrisp' Vic clenched his fist and was on the point of felling McKill to the ground when he recognized that it was hardly the time for encounters of that nature. He understood, however, that this was the beginning of strife. The first gun in a long fight had been fired. There were. however, a few of whose loyalty he was sure. For instance. Phil Calmont, revolver in hand, stood guard over the pile of books he had