Newark evening star and Newark advertiser. [volume] (Newark, N.J.) 1909-1916, 1910-09-03

ton literally and scrupulously, she did
il without the slightest sense of per-
soma danger, and. indeed, she would
hardly have had room for such an
emotion even II there had been a much
more reasonable ground for it.
An acute terror for Philip, who had
gone out to find their monstrous nemy
| and try to kill him, would In any case
have dominated both thought and feel
ing. And this terror was all the
sharper because of what had passed be-
tween them the hou before-the COM
ing Of the full, complete, wonderful I'M
derstanding and the sweeping away of
the last barrier there had been between
them.
Probably no human being, not even
the sanest and most commonplace. is
inaccessible to that e of Nemesis
the fear that merely being too happy.
finding life too completes sufficient to
suggest.
Only an hour ago the thing had hap
pened which made life perfect for her;
and now Philip was gone and she left
alone.
Fol a while after he left she had kept
the pilot-house door open, and, bundled
in her furs, had sat neal 1t, her ears
strained for the sound of a cry or the
report of a rifle.
But the torture of that situation was
too great. Philip might be gone for
hours; and at this rate she would be
fairly beside herself long before his re-
turn. So, ~resolutely, she made a light.
shut the pilot-house door p the
world, took up her fathers journal and
tried to read.
But even this fascinating narrative
lacked the power to command her at
tention tonight. She rose half a dozen
times from the rude bench on which she
sat, to make some trifing alteration in
the room.
One thing she did had reference to the
possibility of Roscoe's attempting an
attack on the pilot-house-this was to
remove the wooden cover from the
chimney-mouth. If Roscoe should sue
coed in eluding Philip. or in killing him,
she wanted ample warning. The rising
wind ratified the pilot-house door. and
walled in the chimney; but she knew
she would be able to detect the sound
of the monsters laborious ascent long
before he could reach the top.
She was sitting beside the oil stove.
III Tx VI ~ tAAS
room. The chimney hole was in the
corresponding corner. The revolver lay
on the table in the middle of the room,
a few PAGES behind her. The pilot
house door was directly In line with 1t,
and almost exactly behind her back.
The door was hinged to swing inward.
When it burst open she attributed the
fact to no other agency than the wind.
ST. f.sl dou,, tI,a ~aA hound hnOLy nnOn
the bench beside her and rose, rather
deliberately. before she turned round.
AS she did so Roscoe sprang forward
to the table and seized the revolver.
Her failure to turn Immediately had
given him the second he needed to take
in the strategical possibility of the
room.
His rife was a clumsy weapon in
close quarters. So, as he sprang for
ward, he dropped it and made for the
revolver instead. 1t only needed a
glance at the girl to convince him that
she was unarmed. Quite deliberately
he broke open the breech of the revolver
and satisfied himself that it was loaded.
Then he looked up again, blinking at
the girl.
She had not moved since she had
caught her first glimpse of him. In her
mind was the thought that Philip must
be dead, and the hope that Roscoe
would kill her quickly-before she
could realize that fact-before this
strange, blessed numbness which had
frozen her in the instant of her first
glimpse of him-should have lost it's
| anaesthetic power.
With thai in mind, she kept her eyes
upon the revolver, which those vast,
hairy hands of his were manipulating.
She had uttered no cry at all. She
turned dead-white and her eyes were
wide, but there was no terror in them.
| Roscoe on his part stood staring at her.
; 1t was no wonder that Carlson and