Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1910-07-03

reckoning!
His eyes shifted for instant to the face of the
girl and strange, subtle message passed be-
tween them. She had not spoken; yet she too
seemed to understand, and the pleading, wstful
eyes commanded him to do the right thing-which
happened to be at the moment submission to arrest!
oh very well, Cap, Mr. Smith remarked at last,
don't suppose it will do any good to deny it. You
fly cops in Paris wonders, aren't YOU?
CHAPTER VII.
MYTH one of his wasted hands clasped in the
" cool, caressng fingers of his daughter and
with her plump, cheek pressed tenderly against
his own, withered and yelowed by long, dragging
siege of typhoid. w. Vaudeville Clarke slept. 1t
a sleep of utter exhaustion exhaustion fol-
lowing closely upon the maelstrom of speculation
and apprehension aroused by that unexpected en-
counter with Mr. ohm Smith in the Cafe de la Paix.
Smith of all men! What he doing in Paris. SO
far away from his wcketed window? Why had he
been arrested? And why had he submitted to arrest
under the name of Clarke with hardly protest?
There only answer, of course, and that
answered only part of the question: The disappear
of the United States bonds from the bank vault
had been discovered An order had been issued for
his Clarkes, arrest a charge of having made
way with those bonds That order had been
turned over to the police of Paris for execution and
they had bundered. But how had they blundered? ?
How it possible to mistake Smith for Clarke?
And why had Smith not delivered to the arrest
ing officer the real w. Vaudeville Clarke who was
there under his very hands, 1t couldn't have been
that Smith hadn't recognized him; the blazing
straight staring eyes left room for doubt that
Then why-why?
Pondering these things, aghast at the hideous pos
sbtes that paraded before his distorted vision in
gariSh disorder certain of nothing and fearful of all
Clarke had been lulled into uneasy slumber by the
softly musical voice of his daughter, who talked of
all things in the world the strange meeting in
the Cafe de la PaiX.
Mr.. Smith had been led away submissive pris-
oner and Immediately he had gone Edna had hur-
red her father into taxlCab and they had been
driven here-here this shabby little apartment in
the Rue ST. Honore where she had found him, where
he had been quartered for weeks, and where by
force of indomitable will and splendid physique he
had conquered his illness.
FOR an hour or more after he had dropped asleep
the girl sat beside him, motiOnless, vigilant
stlve to his least movement. her clear blue eyes
clOuded by terror OF some 1ncomprehens1ble danger
which threatened to Overwhem them. She had
asked no questions; but thousand were hammerlng
insistently for answer. Why was her father, W.
Vaudeville Clarke president of a bank and finan-
Cial power at home. skulkng here in pitiful little
apartment under the name of Charles ROeblng
Had there been crime? She shuddered at the
thought If there had been no crime, why the neces
sty of this COncealment? And who this huge
hulking American, this SO called John Smith, who,
knowing Clarke, had submitted to arrest with
scarcely word of defense,
Her father-perhaps he thief! He had left
home suddenly with the bare, bald statement that
he going to Paris, and once there he had utterly
disappeared. Weeks and weeks had passed; then,
torrnented by unnamed fear of CHASTITY
thing like this, she had come to find him. She had
found him through clue furnished by friend of the
family, found him just recovering from typhoid
fever. If her father thief then Ohm Smith
John Smith-he probably detective! That
the only inference she had been able to draw
from his answers to her questions that day In the
Champs Eysees. But on the other hand if he was
detective why had he permitted himself to be
rested as w. Vaudeville Clarke.
After awhile she detached her slim fingers from
her fathers feeble grip and noiselessly. For
minute more she stood staring down the
ciated frame of this man who was much to her,
who was so dependent upon her now in his help
IeSSneSS