Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1911-04-21
guided his car slowly toward the

| LOoh dl lHlS, anu dl lldt. lie
gardener pointed Indignantly to one or
two broken flower stems, footprints on
| the edge of the soft earthly beds. Il
| raked over here yesterday just before
sundown and those must ha' been
made during the night. Who by?'
Hmm Sir Archibald made
slight sound; eyed sidewise the girl.
A delicate crimson came slowly to
Miss Woods face. How ridiculous!"
broke from her. Your burglar the
| ory, l mean"
Perhaps, Miss, perhaps!" said the
man: but his countenance showed he
retained his own opinion.
Let us see!" Sir Archibald's tone
became livelier; he bent low. "A
shapely. aristocratic foot" he laughed.
TOO shapely for your vulgar house.
breakers! Unless" he added, but he
did not utter that which he had been
on the point of saying. Instead, he in
dulged once more in that enigmatic
murmur: Hmm"
It's making a great deal out Of
nothing" exclaimed the girl. The ex-
planation Is, no doubt, very simple"
impetuously.
YES" Sir Archibald observed
quietly, looking up at her.
She did not answer; why? Did
something covert, in his gaze hold her
silent? Last night!-the sound!-they
had heard abovei-Sir Archibald-he
had. then?-She pressed a crimson lip
with her teeth and held herself more
erect; annoyed; irritated. She could
not have defined exactly her feeling.
She was about to speak, more plainly,
she knew not just what words; but to
do away with any further misunder-
standing about footprints, or paltry
broken rose-stem or two, when Bam-
ford abruptly Strengthened.
Your father"-he observed, look
ing toward the house. Mr.. Wood, Or
the front steps, was speaking now to
the chauffeur.
She turned quickly; perhaps, at the
instant, was glad of the pretext to do
low tone she moved away. Sir Arch
ibald followed with slow footsteps. Mr..
Wood had heard the story by the time
they drew near, and having listened
to the meager details. proposed at once
that they set out Immediately for the
Goldberg mansion to learn what had
taken place. Sir Archibald hesitated;
the chauffeur removed the suitcase
from the car.
The Englishmans eyes rested on 1t
absently. Suddenly his manner be-
came decisive, and, signifying his in
tention of being ready in moment to
accompany them, he turned and en-
tered the house.
Chatfield Bruce, from one of his
windows in the second story Of the
wing, had seen the car turn into the
grounds of the Wood estate, and now,
not long after, he observed 1t go out
once more and noted the occupants. AS
the sound of the motor receded down
the road, he rang the bell sharply.
S;mlton answered.
MY suitcase, that was brought
from the inn-send it up here"
Very well, sir. I'll see to 1t my
sef, sir"
But time passed: the young man
pressed the bell again, impatiently.
When, at length, Simpson did re-
turn, his countenance was troubled,
his manner, gravely apologetic. He
regretted the circumstance; some mis-
take must have been made, for the
suitcase could not, at the moment, be
found Presumably, it had been for
gotten and left in the motor.
"Nonsense!" said Bruce, regarding
him keenly.
Il beg your pardon, sir" somewhat
taken aback.
And I yours" laughed the young
man. There was no mistaking this old
servants recitude. You are positive
YOU have made a thorough search?
Yes? Then, you may go, and-thank
you. Simpson"
You are quite welcome, sir; but
I'll have another look around, and if
He started to open the door; through
the crack Bruce became suddenly
aware of a lurking figure which moved
quickly away. Sir Archibald's valet!
Had he, too, then, been pressed into
new service, that of watching, spying
upon him?
Bruce laughed. Don't bother any
more about the suitcase. It'll only be
waste of time. hardly think you'll
find it until the car returns" And as
Simpson again moved away, the latest
guest laughed once more.
At the tragic comic conclusion! Or,
predicament? The loss of a suitcase!
Sir Archibald was showing himself
rather fine and subtle. Possibly, even,
the big Englishman understood joke,
and was smiling to himself now, as he
sped down the road. But for Bruce,
il was no smiling matter; he remain
ed here a prisoner, at the moment
when he wished most for his freedom.
He looked again out Of his window.
At a corner of the veranda, SHADOW,
which might have been mans, attn
wart the boards moved slightly. Be
low, the flowers nodded at him, but he
remained oblivious to the dancing con-
sociation of gay cOlors. A nearly
breakfast had given him new strength.
His pulses throbbed protestingly FOR
action. But what should he do? What
could he do?
His restless glance, roaming ann
lessly, fell upon the discarded even
ing clothes: continued to linger on the
garments. An expression, oddly whlm-
sical. played about his lips. When
between Scylla and Charybdis"-his
eyes shone with abrupt decision-"one
must steer course, somewhat pre-
cipitous." To conclude, with Chatnelu
Bruce. was to act: he did so, quickly.
ITO be Continued)
c.s,.xL;n, lie unos,-A gigantic