Orange County observer., 1909-06-10

Il
lery for s750. :,
"a week later I Joined my frie1d q
wilmington. village near Uckfie,d
IN Sussex. the centre of the chicke,
1attening district. Fellowes va,
stay1ng at sleepy little beerhouse
ana spent his days fishing the mil
stream. Over our pipes that evenins
we discussed the situation.
Our little conspiracy" said .ha,
SO rar succeeded beyond my highest
| hopes. Your story is plausibility it.
seH. On the night the picture was
sent to Down Street you suddenly do.
c1oed to take walking tour in the
country, and you wrote two postcards
announcing your decision-one te
| your landlady and one to me-n,1
tnem IN your pocket, and forgot to
| post them. You have them now
walking tours are not generally
started at midnight, but artists are
proverb1ally eccentric. You have not
looked at paper since, and the Eel
loves mystery has not been men
tloned In your hearing until TODAY.
"nen stranger, myself (now you
see why l instructed you to meet me
as a sranger), tells you sometime
aoout It, Tomorrow you take the
train back to town, and are amazed
to find you are famous, but supposed
to be dead"
But Fellowes shrank from this
course. The amazing success of our
plot. the fame he had acquired, rather
frightened him. He suggested post
pon1ng his reappearing for a week:
the modern world lives so fast II
would make less sensation then.
1 should have thought you'd have
mad enough of this place.
have" he replied, but I needn't
stop here; I'll walk on to Devonshire.
Won't you Gomez"
In the end he persuaded me. We
walked to Teignmouth, a leisurely
tramp, taking week or so on the
road. Outside the town we parted. /.
arranging Ito meet at the Imperial
Hotel. I had wired to town for a
bag to be sent there. After dinner
that evening I would stroll into the
bar, and presently my dead friend
would, to my mingled amazement
and horror, walk in. We rehearsed
the scene on the way, and were both
perfect in our respective parts, ONLY
unfortunately we were never called
upon to play them, for the Unex-
pected was to take a hand in the
game
Dinner was Just over, and I had
seated myself In lounge In the hall.
when familiar voice hailed me.
"Quinton it is; I thought it was
you saw in corner of the dining
room"
The recontre rather pleased me, as
the newcomer knew Fellowes slight
ly. I decided he should be partici-
pator of my discovery of him later on.
We lit cigarettes and chatted. I ex-
planning had been on a solitary
walking. tour to reduce my waist
measurement, and he telling me he
was straight from town. Then I be-
gan to lead up to the 'Fellowes mys-
terry; quarter Of an hour later I
made an excuse, and slipped quietly
out OF the hotel. I found my friend
loafing in the vicinity.
"Fellowes," said, heres a pretty
kettle of fish; you're not only dead,
but buried. Your body was f1shed
out of the Thames six days ago, iden-
titled as you at the inquest, and bur-
led at Kensal Green. You had a love-
ly funeral. Pity we've seen no Lon
don papers,
who identified it," he demanded.
warmly.
your wife, 1 replied.
Any hopes 1 had entertained that
the lady in question was an 1mposter
were dissipated by his reception of
the news. Fellowes uttered a groan,
turned pea green, and collapsed upon
a bench conveniently handy. cara
bella here." he gasped
"Yes; you kept her pretty dark"
said, bitterly. though you hadn't
forgotten her; she's the wife in the
Marriage of Convenience, very
slightly exaggerated Your story is
IN all the papers. You went to Amer
lea years ago, drifted to San Francis
CO, and then fell on hard times. You
were pretty we'll starving when she
picked you up and married you. She
was well-to-do widow. Three years
ago you deserted her; that was in
1906. Suspecting you'd return to
your native country, she came here
looking for you. Now, she's not only
found you, but buried you
Surely she got a divorce for de-
sertion?"
mo; she's always lived in hopes
of finding you again. But that's not
the worst, my dear chap. She's taken |
possession of your property
--e''What?''
"The documentary evidence she |
|