Macon beacon. [volume] (Macon, Miss.) 1859-1995, 1909-11-06
CHAPTER HI.-continued.

water" l said; and / watched the
prowling boatman while Lima crept
back to the boat house. The canoe
was launched silently and the boy
drove it out to me with a few light
strokes. 1 took the paddle, and we
crept close along the shore toward
the ST. Agatha light, my eyes intent
Oh the boat, which was now drawing
in to the school pier. The prowler
was feeling his way carefully, as
though the region vas unfamiliar; but
III now landed at the pier and tied his
boat. l hung back in the shadows
until he had disappeared up the bank,
then padded to the pier, told lima to
wait, and set off through the wood
path toward ST. Agatha's.
Where the wood gave way to the
broad lawn hat stretched up to the
school buildings / caught sight of my
quarry. He was a young fellow, not
above average height, but compactly
built, and stood with his hands thrust
boyishly in his pockets, gazing about
with frank interest in his surround
ings. He was bareheaded and coat
less, and his shirt-sleeves were rolled
10 the elbow. He walked slowly
along the edge of the wood, looking
off toward the school buildings, n
while his manner was furtive there
was, too, an air of about
him and | heard him whistling softly
to himself.
He now withdrew into the wood
and started off with the apparent in
tentiOn of gaining a view of st. Aga
tha's from the front, and l followed.
He seemed harmless enough; he
might be a curious pilgrim from the
summer resort; but l was just now
the guardian Of st. Agatha's and l in
tended to learn the strangers bust
ness before l had done with him. He
reached the driveway leading in from
the AnnandaIe road without having
disclosed any purpose other h that
of viewing the vine-clad walls with a
tourists idle interest. The situation
had begun to bore me, when h
school gardener came running out of
the shrubbery, and instantly the
young man took to his heels.
Stop! Stop" yelled the gardener.
The mysterious young man plunged
into the wood and was off like the
wind.
After him, Andy! After him!" l
yelled to the Scotchman.
l shouted my own name to reassure
him and we both went humping
through the beeches. Whoever the
young gentleman was, ne had no in
tention of being caught; he darted in
and put among the trees with astound-
tho IiOhfnncC ond cay in a moment
that he was slowly turning away to
the right.
"Run for the gate!" I called to the
gardener, who was about 20 feet away
from me, blowing hard. l prepared to
gain on the turn if the young fellow
dashed for the lake; and he now led
me a pretty chase through h flower
garden. He ran with head up and ell
bows close at his sides, and his light
BOAT shoes made scarcely any sound.
He turned one and looked back and,
finding that 1 was alone, began
amusing himself with feints and
lodges, for no other purpose, l
fancied, than to perpleX or wind me.
Ry this time l had grown pretty
angry, for a foot race in a school gar
den struck me with disgust as a child
ish enterprise, and l bent with new
spirit and drove him away from his
giddy circling about the summer
house and beyond the only gate by
which he could regain the wood and
meadow that lay between the garden
and his boat. He turned his head
from side to side uneasily, s~lackening
his pace to study the pounds of the
garden, and 1 felt myself gaining.
Ahead of us lay a white picket fence
that set off the vegetable garden and
marked the lawful bounds of the
school. There was no gate and 1 felt
hat here the chase must end, and l
rejoiced to find myself SO nea the
runner that l heard the quick, soft
patter of his shoes on the walk. In
a moment 1 was quite sure hat 1
should have him by the collar, and l
had every intention of dealing severe
ly with him for the hard chase he had
given me.
But he kept on, the white line of
fence clearly outlined beyond him;
and then when my hand was almost
upon him he rose at the fence, as
though sprung from the earth itself,
and hung a moment sheer above the
sharp line of the fence pickets, his
whole figure held almost horizontal, in
the fashion of trained high-jumpers,
for what seemed an infinite time, as
though by some witchery of the noon
light.
I plunged into the fence with a
force that knocked the wind out of
me. n as l chung painting to the
pickets h runner dropped with a
crash into the midst of a glass vege-
table frame on the farther side. He