The Irish standard. [volume] (Minneapolis, Minn. ;) 1886-1920, 1909-05-08

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Arthur thrust his hands into the
side pockets Of his flannel jacket and
nodded his head once or twice.
why don't you shoot, Henry"
II want those notes." said rIenry
, Holbrook. you lied to me about
them. They were to have been de-
stroyed. want them now. tonight"
IT you shoot me you will undoubt-
sdly get them much easier" said Ar
thur; and he lounged away toward the
wall, half turning his back, while the
point of the pistol followed him. "But
the fact is, never had them; Giles
pie kept them"
Threats cool quickly, and l really
had not much fear that Henry Hol-
brook meant to kill his brother; and
Arthur's Indifference to his danger
was having it's disconcerting effect on
Henry. The pistol barrel wavered;
but Henry steadied himself and his
clutch frightened on the butt. l again
turned toward the door, but the girls
hand held me back.
wait" she whispered again. THAT
man is coward. He will not shoot"
The canoe-maker had been calmly
talking, discussing the disagreeable
consequences of murder in a tone Of
half-banter, and he now stood directly
under the foils. Then in a flash he
snatched one Of them, flung it up with
an accustomed hand, and snapped it
across his brothers. knuckles. At the
window we heard the slim steel hiss
through the air, followed by the rattle
of the revolver as it struck the ground.
The canoe-maker's foot was on it in
stantly; he still held the foil.
Henry" he said in the tone of one
rebuking child, you are bad enough,
but l do not intend that you shall be
murderer. And now I want you to
go; I will not treat with you; want
nothing more to do with you! l re-
peat that l haven't got the notes."
He pointed to the door with the
| foil. The blood surged angrily in his
face; but his voice was in complete
control as he went on.
"Your visit has awakened me to a
sense of neglected duty, Henry. l
have allowed you to prosecute our sis
ter without raising hand! have no
other business now but to protect her.
Go back to your stupid sailor and tell
him that If l catch him in any mis-.
chief on the lake or here shall Ger.
tainly kill him."
l lost any further words that passed
between them, as Henry, crafty
| threatening, walked out upon the deck
to his boat; then from the creek came
the threshing of oars that died away
in moment. When gazed into the
room again Arthur Holbrook was
blowing out the lights.
Il am grateful; am so grateful"
faltered the girls voice; but you
must not be seen here. Please go
| now!" l had taken her hands, feeling
that I was about to lose her; but she
freed them and stood away from me in
the shadow.
I'VE are going away-we must leave
here! l can never see you again." she
whispered.
In the starlight she was Helen, by
every test my senses could make; but
by something deeper knew that she
was not the girl had seen in the
window at st. Agatha's. She was
more dependent, less confident and
poised; she stifed a sob and came
close. Through the window saw Ar
thur Holbrook climbing up to blow out
the last light
II could have watched myself, but
was afraid that sailor might come;
and 1T was he that fired at you in the
road. He had gone to Glenarm to
watch you and keep you away from
here. Uncle Henry came back to-day
and sent word that he wanted to see
my father, and l asked you to come to
help U.S."
II thank you for that"
And there was another man.
stranger, back there near the road; I
could not make him out, but you will
be careful-please! You must think
very i'll Of me for bringing you into all
this danger and trouble"
Il am grateful to you. Please turn
all your trouble over to me-"
You did what l asked you to do
she said, when had no right to ask,
but 1 was afraid Of what might happen
here. 1t is all right now and we are
going away; we must leave this place"
But shall see you again"
mo! You have-you have-Helen.
You don't know me at all! You will
flnd your mistake tomorrow
She was urging me toward the
steps that led up to the house. The
sob was still in her throat, but she was
laughing a little Historically, in her
relief that her father had come of un-
scathed.
Then you must let me find 1t out
tomorrow; will come tomorrow be-
fore you CO."
mo! No! This is good.by," she
said. You would not be so unkind as
to stay, when l am SO troubled, and
there Is so much to do"
We we're at the foot of the stairway,
and heard the shop door snap shut