The Rice belt journal. (Welsh, Calcasieu Parish, La.) 1900-19??, 1909-11-26


throw away. l really slept through
the night cant tell you what {
boon that is"
"Why, Sister Margaret had to cal
us both at eight" exclaimed Helen
THAT is almost too wonderful for be
lief"
"Oh, the nights here are tranquility
Itself! Now, as to the drive"
Let us wait another day, Mr.. Dono
van. | feel that we must make assur
ance doubly sure" said Miss Pat; and
this, of course, was final.
1t was clear that the capture of Gil.
lespie had not disturbed the slumber
OF st. Agathas. My conscience
prlcked me a trifle at leaving them so
lgnorantly contented; but Gillespie's
appearance was hardly menace, and
though | had pledged myself to warn
Helen Holbrook at the first sign of
trouble, determined to deal with him
on my own account. He was only an
infatuated fool, and I was capable, |
hoped, of disposing of his case with.
out taking any one into my conf.
dence. But first it was my urgent
business to find him.
| got out the launch and crossed the
lake to the summer colony and began
my search by asking for Gillespie at
the casino, but found that his name
was unknown. l lounged about until
lunch time, visited the golf course
that lay on a bit of upland beyond the
cottages and watched the players I'm.
til satisfied that Gillespie was not
among them, then l went home for
luncheon.
A man with bandaged arms, and
clad in a dressing gown, cannot 20
far without attracting attention; and
was not in the least discouraged by
my fruitless search. I have spent
considerable part of my life in the
engaging occupation of looking for
men who were hard to find, and as
smoked my cigar on the shady ter.
race and waited for lima to replenisb
the launch's tank, felt confident that
before night l should have an under.
standing with Gillespie if he were still
IN the neighborhood of Annandale.
The midday was warm, but I cooled
my eyes on the deep shadows of the
wood, through which at intervals
saw white sails flash on the lake. All
bird-song was hushed but a wood
pecker on a dead sycamore hammered
away for dear life. The bobbing Of
his red head must have exercised
some hypnotic spell, for l slept a few !
and dreamed that the wood.
pecker had bored hole in nv fore.
mead. When l reused it was with a
start that sent my pipe Gathering to
the stone terrace floor. A man who
mas ever camped or hunted or been
| have known all three
experlences-always scrutinizes the
horizons when he wakes, and I found
myself staring into the wood AS nv
eyes sought remembered landmarks
lere and there, | saw a man dressed
Is a common sailor skulking toward
ne penthouse several hundred wards
away. He was evidently following the
'chool wall to escape observation and
rose and stepped closer to the hal.
lstrade to watch his movements In
moment he came out into a little
'pen space wherein stood q stone
over where water was stored for the
louise, and he paused here and gazed
bout him curiously. | picked IN a
leId-glass from little table near nv
nd caught sight of a swarthv foreign
ace under a soft felt hat. He passed
ne tower and walked on toward the
axe, and | dropped over the balus-
rade and followed him.
The japanese boy was still at work