Camas Prairie chronicle. [volume] (Cottonwood, Idaho) 1901-1917, 1908-02-14
CHAPTER XVIII.

CHAPTER XVIII.
Farley and Dobroski had encountered
| more than once since the novelist's re-
turn to London. The novelist's general
creed being patience, and the anarchists
impatience, each formed a capital study
for the other. To Farley, Dobroski typi-
fed the capital error of human nature,
and the elder man knew 1t, and indeed
heard 1t sometimes, ard retaliated in
complete good faith and GOOD temper.
II am writing a book" said the novel
LIST, one day. 1.-THE story, though mainly
carrier on In England, takes me abroad
Ito Russia. l have been reading for
months to get what want, but do not
seem to breathe the Russian atmosphere.
l miss the feel of what want to do
And l have an idea Of which am not
quite certain. l should like to lay 1t be-
fore you, and to ask your opinion about
| it."
II am wholly at your service" said
Dobroski.
LET me begin with the incident" said
Farley, nervously. "You will see the
better chen on what points I stand in
need Of advice. The thing began In my
mind out Of some mock heroic nonsense
was talking to my wife on the night
on which you found my boy In the wood
at Janenne and brought him home to u.s."
"Yes," said Dobroski, with an atten-
tive smile.
II am conscious Of having used you az
figure to hang another mans S~o,e
on. You must understand that the CEN
trail figure Of my story is an elderly Rus
sian noble. When the story opens he Is
an exile from his native land. He has
identified himself with the popular as
pirations, has Joined himself with the
revolutionary party, the plots of his
friends have been detected and he has
escaped with his life"
Zone moment" said Dobroski, raising
his hand. "Who is there2 Come In"
The door opened and Wroblewskofr en-
tered. lie bowed to Farley and took
Dobroski's extended hand In his own with
deep reverence of manner.
''Sit down." said Dobroski to the new
conner. go on, Mr.. Farley"
1--WE will talk Of this another time"
returned Farley.
mo, no" cried Dobroski. "Let us
talk of 1t now. Go on"
Permit me to retire." said Wroblews-
koif, rising. II am evidently In the way.
see 1t and feel 1t. You have private
things to speak of, dear and respected
SIR"
mo, no." said Austin, mot at ALL"
"Wroblewskoff knows as much as l."
broke In Dobroski, smilingly. TELL your
tale to both Of us. His advice will be
of as much use as mine"
"Well," said Austin, ''the Russian no
BILE came to England. There he mag
ined himself to be safe, but he was the
repository Of many secrets and the Rus
sian government would have given much
to have him in their hands,"
"As they would you, sir" said Wro-
blewskof, "and even me-"
"a spy" continued Austin, "a SPY In
the Russian service, a Greek, a cunning.
INSCRIPTIONS and fearless rascal, deter
mines upon the mobiles arrest"
Mr.. Wroblewskoff changed the position
OF his chair and brought his face into
deep shadow.
"He racks his mind in vain for plan
by which the anarchist can be induced TO
return to his native country. At length
he hits upon a scheme He Is personally
unknown to his intended victim. He
comes to England, feigns a profound
sympathy with the revolutionary cause,
secures an introduction to the anarchist
and becomes intimate with him."
Farley was telling the story with his
eyes upon the carpet of the room, as If
he were reading something there. Dob
roski lay back idly In his chair, looking
toward the ceiling. Wroblewskoff sat
with his right hand thrust carelessly In
the breast of his coat. The right hand,
though neither of his companions guessed
as much, held the butt of a revolver
there.
when the Greek has once secured an
intimacy with the Russian he makes a
journey ~ Calais. There he hires two
rooms, whch he furnishes in precise imi-
tation of his rooms in London. He goes
to Vienna. and there hires two other
rooms, and again furnishes In precise
imitation of his rooms in London. He
then returns to London, and explainir- |
his absence by any pretense you may
choose to fancy, he renews his intimacy |
with his victim. He invites the victim |
to dinner and drugs him. One of his &C |
completes is a doctor. The unconscious |
man is driven to the railway station in |
we'll appointed carriage and is lifted |
into a sleeping wagon. The doctor at |
tends him. The poor gentleman is being |
carried to his native air as a last resort,
and the doctor is most sedulous in his |
watchfulness. He hovers about him as he |
is carried to the steamer. He watches
him across. A second well appointed car
riage meets the conspirators and their
victim at Calais. The drugged man