The Irish standard. [volume] (Minneapolis, Minn. ;) 1886-1920, 1909-01-23

had given her cold which her shock
and grief left her no strength to re-
sist-she was always frail little crea-
ture, poor butterfy!-and she followed
her baby inside Of month. Had she
lived, her husband might have found
it hard to forgive her, for already a
sore heart was turning to the child for
comfort; but she was dead, and he did
not let his thoughts misuse her men,
ory. Nowhere was another, SO diff
ferent, but just as false. Then, he
brought himself up with jerk: he
would be fair; he would look at things
as they were; many a man had been
fooled by the dummy. He would not
jump at conclusions because they were
cruel, any more than he would because
they we're kind. There was such
thing, he knew we'll, as credulous sus-
picion; it did more harm than credu-
lous trust. Meanwhile, he had his de-
tail. He was to find Archie; therefore,
he waited. They were in the house;
it were only folly to give up their ad-
vantage under the stress of any of
MERGERS plausible lurings to the out
SIDE
Moreover, by degrees, he became
convinced that Mercer, certainly to
some extent, was sincere in his pro-
fession of belief in Arches absence
and safety This, in spite Of hearing
several times that Archie was not re-
turned. Mercer did all the speaking,
but he allowed Birdsall to hold the re-
ceiver and take the message from Mrs.
Winter.
The telephone was in an adjoining
room, but by shifting his position a
number of times the colonel was able
to catch a murmur of the converse
tidon. He heard MERGERS voice dis
tinctly. He had turned away and was
following the detective out Of the
room. II don't understand it any
more than you do, Mr.. Birdsall,' he
said; "you won't believe me, sub, but
am right worried"
"Of course 1 believe you," purred
the detective, SO softly that the colo.
mel knew he did not believe any more
than Mercer suspected. "Of course,
believe you; but don't know what to
do. 1t amt on the map. I guess It's
up to you to throw little light. I've
called the boys off twice already and
told 'em to wait an hour or half
hour longer. got to see the colonel"
II can trust my intuitions, or l can
trust the circumstantial evidence"
thought the colonel. He jumped up
and began to pace the court.
Seems to be like game of bridge
before one can see the dummy" he
complained; and, as so often happens
in the crises of life, a trivial illustra-
ton struck wavering mind with the
force of an argument. His thoughts
reverted whimsically to the card
table; how many times had he hesi-
tated over the first lead between even
ly balanced suits of four; and how
often had he regretted or won, depend
ing solely upon whether his card in
stinct had been denied or obeyed! 1t
| might be instinct. this much-discussed
| card instinct" or it might be sum-
ming up of logical deductions so swift
that the obscure steps were lost. and
the reasoner was unconscious of his
own logical processes. "Now,
groaned Rupert Winter, II am up
against it. She looks like a good
woman; she seems like good wom-
an; but I have only my impressions
and Aunt Rebeccas against the ap.
parent facts in the case. Well, Aunt
Rebecca is a shrewd one!" He sat
down and thought harder. Finally he
rose, smiling. He had threshed out
| his problem; and his conclusion, in
audibly but very distinctly uttered to
himself, was: "Me for my own i'm
pressions! If that girl is in with this
gang, either what they are after isn't
so bad-or they have made her believe
1t isn't bad"
He looked idly about him at the
arched doorway of the outer court. 1t
was carved with favorite mission
design of eight-pointed flowers with
vase-like fluting below. There was a
tiny crack in one of the flowers, the
tiniest crack in the world. He looked
at 1t without seeing it, or seeing it