Newark evening star and Newark advertiser. [volume] (Newark, N.J.) 1909-1916, 1910-09-01

ing shadow. He was not consciously
looking at what was before his eyes
certainly not catalog1ng the details
which went to make up the picture.
He seemed to be taking 1t In through
some extra sense, or, perhaps, through
all his senses at once. But he did not
need to explore the remoter recesses of
the cave to make sure hat Roscoe was
not there. The place cried aloud that
it was empty.
Cayley shuddered, not with fear, and
yet with a sensation stronger than dis
gust. It was as If a leopard a been
standing over the deserted lair of a
hyena. A wild beasts lair 1t was and
not a human habitation.
The floor was Uttered with feathers
and half-gnawed bones. The rocky
walls dripped with the oily SCOT of his
horrible cooking. The foul air of the
place was actually iridescent. But the
real horror of 1t lay in the fact that
Roscoe was not there.
Cayley's reasoning faculties attacked
that blind, irrational horror with all
their force. From the condition of the
fire 1t was evident that Roscoe had
been gone severa hours. 1t was al
most certain that he would return
soon. Cayley's arrival in his absence
really gave him an immense advantage.
A man always comes unwarily into the
place he calls home. If Roscoe came
back now he would have no chance at
all against Cayley's quick spring and
the flash of the long knife-blade.
Certainly it was reasonable to expect
that Roscoe would wait for another
naonnr4oa hafora oatffnn o1.t on INV
serious sort of expedition, and, If that
assumption were correct. he might be
returning to the cave at any moment.
Cayley tried hard to force himself to
accept this line of reasoning-to use
it to combat the shuddering horror
which Roscoe's mere absence caused
him.
He strobe a few PAGES forward into
the cave, then turned about and faced
the entrance, with the idea of selecting
q good strategica1 position in which to
wait for RoScoe's return.
He realized almost Immediately, how
ever. that quite without reference to
the inexplicable terror which Roscoe's
absence seemed to cause him, he would
be unable to wait for his return here
in the cave. The stencil of the place
was already turning him sick, and the
poisonous exhaustion of the air making
his eyes roll in his head.
He strobe abruptly back to the cave
mouth. AS he did SO, however, his eye
alighted on something that made him
pause-something so strangely out of
keeping with it's surroundings that it
caused him-or he thought that was the
reason-a sense of recognition, almost
OF familiarity.
The thing which 80 evidently did not
belong to Roscoe that 1t seemed almost
to belong to Philip himself, was a gold
locket. 1t lay IN a flat bit of rock,
which seemed to serve Roscoe's purpose
as a table. The objects which sur
rounded it-an irregular piece of raw
walrus hide, an overturned bottle of
whale oil, with a smudgy wick in it, a
sailmaker's needle and some rawlings
Of canvas, together with some scraps Of
food-all spoke so loud of Roscoe and
made such a contrast with this bit of
jewelry that Cayley's action in STOPPING
to pick it up was automatic.
He held itIn his hand a moment as
If he did not know quite what to do
with 1t, hen put 1t in his pocket and
went out of the cave. Only during the
moment when it had first caught his
eye had 1t really commanded his atten-
ton at all. By the time he got outside
OF the cave he had forgotten 1t.
Two or three breaths of the clean air
outside of the a were all he needed
to revive him. physically. But, to his
surprise, they did not suffice to rid him
Of the feeling which he regarded as SUI
perstitious. namely, the impulse to fly
back to Jeanne as fast as wing could
carry him.
He had every reason to believe that
she was safe. he told himself. She was
armed with a heavy revolver, was a
good shot and had plenty of nerve. She
was in a place, the only avenue of ac-
cess to which would give her a tremen-
dous advantage over any invader. So
that. even supposing the worst-suppos-