The Chanute times. [volume] (Chanute, Kan.) 1897-1913, 1910-08-19

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Drawer things of you. The game that
counts, my girl" he preached it at her
with his long white hand, "the game
that Is going on out here is the big,
red game of life. That's the only one
that's worth guinea; and there's no
winning or losing, there's no right or
wrong to 1t, and it doesn't matter
what man is in it as long as he's a
good one."
Even If he is theft" The ques-
ton was out of Flora's lips before she
could catch it. 1t was a challenge.
She had meant to confound him; but
he caught it as if it delighted him.
We'll, what would you Think"
He threw it back at her.
What hadn't she thought! How per-
sistently her fancy had played with
the question of what sort of man that
one might be who had so wonderful
ly put his hand under glass case and
drawn out the Chatworth ring.
oh" she laughed obviously, 81 sup
pose he is good one as long as he
isn't caught
What" His face disowned her.
You think he's renegade, do you Z?
A chap in perpetual flight, taking
things because he has to, more or less
pursued by the law? Bah! It's a
guild as, old, and a deal more honor
able, than the beggars. Your good
thief is born to it. It's his caste. It's
in his blood. 1t isn't money that he
wants. If he had million he'd be
; the same. And it isn't mania eth
er. It's profession" The English
man leaned back and smiled at her
over the elegance of his long, joined
finger-tips.
She looked at him with a delighted
alarm, with an increasing elation but
whether these arose from his lawless
declarations and the singular way
they kept setting before her more
wildly moment by moment the pos
sible character of the present keeper
of the Chatworth ring, or whether it
was just the sight of Kerr himself as
he sat there that stirred her, she
didn't try to distinguish.
g"But suppose he was your own
thief" she urged; took your own
things, l mean," she hastily amended,
"and suppose he turned out to be
some one you knew and liked" She
hesitated She had come at last to what
she really wanted to say. She had
brought out question that had been
teasing her fancy at intervals all the
while he had been talking, and he had
not even heard it, He wasn't even look
ing at her. She had caught him off
his guard. He was looking across her
shoulder straight down the dim vista
of the room to the little blaze of bor-
| dering light. He was looking at Har-
ry. No, Harry was looking at him.
Harry was looking with steady, an
intent gaze, and Kerr meeting tit
might have been merely the blank
glare of his monocle-seemed to
Flora, to meet it a little insolently.
She fancied in the instant something
to pass between the two men, some
thing which, this time, she did not
mistake for jealousy-a shade too dim
for defiance or suspicion, deep
scrutiny that struggled to place some
thing some one.
Flora felt a sudden wish to break
that curious scrutiny. 1t had broken
her little moment. 1t had shattered
the personal, almost intimate note
that had been sounded between them.
The look Kerr turned back to her was
vague, and stirred in her a dim re-
sentiment that he could drop it all so
easily.
Shall we join the others?" 1t was
the voice with which she had begun
with him, but her eyes were hot
through their light mist of lashes, and
he threw her a comprehending glance
of amusement.
"Oh, no." he assured her, eve can't
help ourselves. They are going to
join us"
Ella Butler, in the van of her pro-
cession, was already descending upon
them. Her approach dissipated the
last remnant of their personal mo-
ment. Her presence always insisted
that there was nothing worth while
but instant participation in her gen.
iality, and whatever subject it might
at the moment be taken up with.
This conviction of Elias had been
wont to overawe Flora; and it still
overwhelmed her; so that now, as
she followed in the trail of Elias
marshaled force, she had a guilty feel
ing that there should be nothing in
her mind but a normal desire for sup
per.
Yet all the way down the great
stair, "the Corridors of Time" where
the white owl glared his CLASSY wis
dom on the passings and counter
passings, she was haunted with the
thought that Harry had seen the ex-
traordinary Kerr before; not shaken
hands with him, perhaps-perhaps not
even heard his name; but somewhere,
across some distance, once glimpsed
him, and had never quite shaken the
memory from his mind. For there
was something marked, notable, unfor-
eetable i'm that lean distinctiVeness