Oxford Democrat. [volume] (Paris, Me.) 1833-1933, 1909-11-09

He took her hand and bowed above
II, but when his head was lifted b.
still retained her fingers In q lingering
clasp
"Good night" he said reluctantly
In sudden flush Of daring he turned
and nodded eoolly to Calendar. with
your permission" he said negligsntly
and drew the girl aside to the angle
Of the stairway.
miss Calendar he began. but was
interrupted
'Here-I sayr'
Calendar had started toward him an
grily
Kirkwood calmly waved him back
II want word In private with your
daughter. Mr.. Calendar" he an.
nounced, with quiet dignity. 81 don't
think you'll deny me. I've saved you
some slight trouble tonight"
Disgruntled. the adventurer paused
"Oh. all right" he grumbled. He re.
turned to the boat.
Forgive me. Miss Calendar" con.
tinued Kirkwood nervously. II know
I've no right to interfere. butt
"Yes. Mr. KirkwoodT
But hasn't this gone far enoughY"
ne floundered unhappily. 81 can't like
the look Of things. Are you sure
sure that It's all right-with you.
mean"
She did not answer at once, but her
eyes were kind and sympathetic. He
plucked heart of their tolerance.
1T isn't too late yet" he argued
Let me take you to your friends-you
must have friends in the city. But
this-this midnight fight down the
Thames, this atmosphere Of stealth
and suspicion. this
But my place is with my father,
Mr.. Kirkwood," she interposed. II
daren't doubt him, dare II"
Il suppose not"
$50 must go with him. I'm glad
thank you for caring, dear Mr.. Kirk
wood. And again good night"
Good luck attend you," he NUT.
tered, following her to the boat.
Calendar helped her in and turned
back to Kirkwood with look Of arch
triumph. Kirkwood wondered II he
had overheard. Whether or no, he
could afford to be magnanimous. Seiz-
ing Kirkwood's hand, he pumped 1t
vigorously.
my dear boy, you've been an angel
In disguise. And I guess you think
me the devil in masquerade" he
ehuckled, In high conceit with himself
over the turn Of affairs. Good night
midland fare thee wellr he dropped
Into the boat, seating himself to face
the recalcitrant Mulready. Cast of,
there"
The boat dropped away, the oars
lifting and falling. With a weariful
sense Of loneliness and disappointment
Kirkwood hung over the rail to watch
them out Of sight.
Somewhat wearily the young man
released the railing and ascended the
stairs. "And that is the end!" he told
himself, struggling with an acute sense
Of personal injury. He had been hard
ly used. For few hours his life had
been lightened by the ineffable glamour
Of romance. Mystery and adventure
had engaged him. He had served fair
woman and been associated with men
whose ways, however questionable,
were the ways Of courage, hedged
thickly about with perils.
Disconsolate and aggrieved, he gain
ed the street. He was miles from St
Pancras, foot weary, to all intents and
purposes lost.
In this extremity chance smiled upon
him. The cabby who at his initial in
stance had Travelled this weary way
from Quadrant news, after the man.
ner Of his kind, ere turning back had
sought surcease Of fatigue at the near
est public. From afar Kirkwood saw
the four wheeler at the curb and made
all haste toward 1t.
Entering the gin mill, he found the
cabby, soothed him with bitter and, in
structing him for st. Pancras with all
speed, dropped. limp and listless with
fatigue, into the conveyance.