Western Kansas world. [volume] (WaKeeney, Kan.) 1885-current, 1909-12-04

relief of being free is too blessed to
throw away. I really slept through
the night can't tell you what a
boon that isl"
'Why, Sister Margaret had to call
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. I 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 Gill
lespie had not disturbed the slumber
of ST. Agatha's. My conscience
pricked me a trif1e at leaving them so
ignorantly contented; but Gillespie's
appearance was hardly a menace, and
though 1 had pledged myself to warn
Helen Holbrook at the first sign of
trouble, 1 determined to deal with him
on my own account. He was only an
infatuated fool, and I was capable, 1
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.
1 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. / lounged about until
lunch time, visited the golf course
that lay on bit of upland beyond the
cottages and watched the players un-
til satisfied that Gillespie was not
among them, then I went home for
luncheon.
clad in a dressing gown, cannot go
far without attracting attention; and
1 was not in the least discouraged by
my fruitless search 1 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 replenish
the launch's tank, 1 felt confident that
before night 1 should have an under
standing with Gillespie if he were still
in the neighborhood of Annandale.
The midday was warm, but 1 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 dead sycamore hammered
away for dear life. The bobbing of
his red head must have exercised
some hypnotic spell, for 1 slept a few
minutes, and dreamed that the wood
pecker had bored a hole in my fore
head. When / reused it was with a
start that sent my pipe Gathering to
the stone terrace floor. man who
has ever camped or hunted or been
hunted-and / have known all three
experiences-a1ways scrutinizes the
horizons when he wakes, and l found
myself staring into the wood. AS my
eyes sought remembered landmarks
here and there, 1 saw a man dressed
as a common sailor skulking toward
the boathouse several hundred yards
away. He was evidently following the
school wall to escape observation, and
I rose and stepped closer to the bal
ustrade to watch his movements. In
a moment he came out into a little
open space wherein stood a stone
tower where water was stored for the
house, and he paused here and gazed
about him curiously- / picked up a
field-glass from little table near by
and caught sight of swarthy foreign
face under a soft felt hat. He passed
the tower and walked on toward the
lake, and 1 dropped over the balus-
trade and followed him.
The japanese boy was still at work