The Spokane press. [volume] (Spokane, Wash.) 1902-1939, 1909-09-06
CHAPTER VII (Continued) .

seeR ignorant of the primeval ele-
ments of justice. After all, 1t is not
wonderful. AS yet you have only
looked in upon life. You look in,
but you do not understand. You
have called me a coward. 1t Is only
year or so since his majesty
pinned little cross upon my coat
for valor. won that for saving a
mans life. Mind you, he was a
man. He was man and a cOmrade.
To save him / rode through a hell
of bullets. It ought to have meant
| death. AS a matter of fact 1t didn't.
That was my luck But you mustn't
call me coward, Ducaine. 1t Is an
insult to my decoration"
ooh, l know that you are brave
enough" l answered. But this
man was poor, weak creature, a
baby in your hands"
$50 are the snakes we stamp be-
meath our feet" he answered
coolly. yet we kill them. In Egypt
/ have been in more than one hot
corner, where we fought hand to
hand. l have killed men more than
once. have watched them gallop-
ing up with waving swords, and
their fine faces ablaze with the JOY
of battle, and all the time ones re-
volver went spit. and the saddles
were empty. Yet never once have
sent a brave man to his last &C.
count without regret, enemy and
fanatic though he was. am not a
bloodthirsty man. When l kill 1t Is
because necessity demands it. AS
for that creature whom you found
In the marshes, we'll, If there were
a dozen such in this room now, l
would do my best to rid the earth
Of them. Take my advice. Dismiss
the whole subject from your mind.
y Go back to Braster and wait. Some
thing may happen within the next
"a hours which will be very much
to your N,nefit. Get, back to Bras
ter and wait"
But he came to Rowchester to
see me. want to know why"
GO back to Rowchester and
wait" Ray said. 81 shall tell you
nothing. Depend upon 1t that his
business with you, II he had any,
was evil business. He and his
whole brood left their mark for evil
wherever they crawled."
So l left him. l had wasted the
money could i'll afford on this
Quincy to London.
From the station l had walked
traight to Rays house. and from
Rays house / returned direct to
he great terminus. l caught a slow
rain, and after four hours of third
lass fmiseries, alighted at Row.
hester Junction. had started on
he three mile tramp home, my
oat collar turned up as some slight
r4kection against the drizzling
ain, when two wheeled trap over
ook me, and Mr.. Moyat shouted
ut gruff greeting. He raised the
waterproof apron and l clambered
by his side.
"I've been to Sunbridge." he told
le. Went over with his grace. My
irl was talking about you the
ther night. Mr.. Ducaine."
"Indeed?" l answered.
Seemed to think" he continued,
that things had been growing a
It rough for you, losing those pu-
Is after you'd been at the expense
taking the Grange, and all that.
pu know"
ut was rather bad luck" I ad-
tilted quietly.
I've been. wondering" he con-
nued, with some diffidence, "whe-
Ter you'd care for bit of work In
y office. just to, carry you along
ll things looked up. Blanche. she
as set upon 1t that l should ask
bu anyway. OF course, you being
college young gentleman might
pit care about 1t, but there's times
hen any sort Of job is better
AN none, eh?"
1T Is very kind of you, Mr.. Moy-
!" answered. land very kind of
ISIS Blanche to have thought of 1t.
week ago l shouldn't have hest
ted. But within the last few days
have had q sort of offer-I don't
how whether 1t will come to any
ing, but 1t may. Might l leave
open for the PRESENT."
think Mr.. Moyat was little
sappointed.
Just as you say" he declared. 81
MT particular In want OF anyone,
t I'm getting to find my own
bookkeeping bit hard. especially
Nv that my eyes amt what they
pre-"
We drove on In silence till we
me to a dark pile of buildings
hnding little way back from the
ad. He moved his head toward 1t.
'Braster Grange Is took" he re-
Arked. "Mr. Hulshaw told me
is morning"
DO you know who Is coming
ere?" I asked.
An American lady. ! believe;
me of Leasing"
glanced involuntarily over my
builder. Braster Grange was a
be- grim pile Of buildings, which
d been unoccupied for many
ars. Between It and the sea was
thing but empty marshland. 1t
s one of the bleakest spots along
coast--to the casual observer
thing but an arid waste of sands
the SKINNER, a wilderness of des-
ltion In the winter.
We drove to Mr.. Moyat's stable
I'd and clambered down.