Five Mile Beach weekly journal., 1910-04-29

somewhat dimmed by a drapery Of
cobwebs. stepped .auslv ont Me-.
he glanced IL the direction OF the
house.
Above the shrubbery be could see
only the roof and the dormer windows
of the upper story, but apparently be
was satisfied Then he turned and
looked toward the stables. No one was
In sight there. but the man In the silk
hat shook his fist at the sunset redden=
ed windows.
Had he cast n glance directly behind
him he would have seen Timmins and
the calf just coming into view owe the
crest of a little rise in the rolling drive
way. But he cast no such glance. Ev-
identity he knew of only one exit from
Hewington Acres, the right gateway.
by which he had entered, and he at
nee struck a businesslike gait in maxi.
ing for 1t.
The discreet Timnins was both star.
tied and puzzled. He did not wish to
shout and alarm the folks in the
house, for that would reveal the Sc
cret of the prisoner. Neither did be
wish to release the calf. Yet he could
not stand there and watch the man
escape. That would never do. What
would Cherub Deyine say? Timmins'
sharp little eyes narrowed ~menacingly.
With the free end of the rope he gave
the Jersey calf a smart whack o. the
ribs. rudely rousing it from its peace
full promenade. The calf jumped
ahead. So did Timmins. Yanking and
whacking, running and leaping. the
pair of them careered im~petuously
across the velvety lawn. crashing
through shrubbery. lodging between
trees and making a straight course for
the right hand driveway.
We have all We can manage to pic
ture the CONSERVATION of the escaping
prisoner when he saw himself headed
off by this incongruous tandem. No
doubt he instantly recognized Timmins
as his jailer, for after a moments as
tonished hesitation he doubled on his
tracks.
In spite of his lack of knowledge of
the geography of the grounds. the flee
ing prisoner was not to be caught cas-
lily. He dashed down n of the gar
den paths. So the placid meditations
of Mr.. Hewington. who was in the
garden, were interrupted by the noise
of rapidly approaching footsteps. The
next moment he had a glimpse OF an
individual in a frock coat who was
sprinting toward him at top speed.
Involuntarily Mr.. Hewington raised
his arms and stepped directly into the
middle of the path. That was quite
sufficient. The runner dug his heels
into the gravel. checked his flight long
enough for one dazed look and prompt
ly dashed into a clump of golden glow,
reappearing to the view of Timmins a
second later headed toward the house.
Evidently the man was bewildered or
else he would not nave failed to OBJ
serve the by no means inconspicuous
figure of Mrs. Timmins looming large
in the kitchen door.
"Stop i'm. Maggiei Stop 'im!
shouted Timmins. abandoning all =
crecy now.
Mrs. Timmins was not one to wait
for explanations at such a time. Tim
Minis wanted somebody stopped, and
stopped he should be. With surpris-
ing agility she got her huge bulk in
motion and moved ~imposingly and at
right angles upon the refugee. As
she did this Timmins, dragging the
calf and followed by Mr.. Hewington,
closed in on the other side. But the
bessie was tired of the game or else he
was winded. He no longer bounded
ahead, now just behind Timmins. He
stuck his ~forefeet straight out and
sawed balkily at the lead rope.
This left a gap of some ten yards in
the line of o~ffense, and through it the
hunted man bolted bravely, the tails
of his frock coat iuttering a haunting
salute as he spurted toward freedom.
The sedate Eppings was just in time
to view the escape with open mouth
and staring eyes.
"Tyke after i'm. you blooming
chump!" screamed the Disguised Tim
Minis. "W'y don't you tyke after
imp
Thus exhorted, the butler did break
into a stiff trot. which was so patiently
ineffective that Timmins might have
laughed had the occasion been less
serious. AS it was. he only gasped out
an exclamation of disapproval. threw
the calf's lead rope to Mr.. Hewington,
with the suggestion, Here, you odd
i'm, governor" and darted after his
prisoner.
Do you wonder, then. at the amaze
ment of the Countess Vecchi when
into the calm of the sunset hour burst
this animated procession-frst. a man
swinging a silk hat in his right hand
and painting as he ran; next, Tim
Minis, his elbows close to his sides
and his jaw thrust out in approved
Marathon style; third. Mrs. Timmins.
very red of face and her ample chest