The silver messenger., 1911-04-18
CHAPTER tii-Continued.

Miss Helen Holbrook.
CHAPTER lii.-Continued.
Gillespie lay on his back, wrapped
in my dressing gown. his knees raised,
his bandaged arms folded across his
chest. Since bringing him into the
house had studied him carefully and,
l must confess, with increasing mys-
tification. He was splendidly put up,
the bestmuscled man had ever seen
who was not professional athlete.
His forearms and clean shaven face
were brown from prolonged tanning
by the sun, but otherwise his skin was
the pink and white Of a healthy baby.
His short light hair was combed
smoothly away from broad fore
head; his blue eyes were perfectly
steady--they even invited and held |
scrutiny; when he was not speaking |
he closed his lips tightly.
1 half believed the fellow to be |
amusing himself at my expense; but
he met my eyes calmly. If l had not
caught lunatic l had certainly cap
tured an odd specimen of humanity.
He was the picture of wholesome liv-
Ing and sound health; but he talked
Ikea fool. The idea of a young woman
like Helen Holbrook giving two
thoughts to silly youngster like this
was preposterous, and my heart hard
ened against him.
You are flippant. Mr.. Gillespie, and
my errarfd with you is serious. There
are places in this house where l could
your button factory again. You seem
to have had some education"
1.-The word does me great honor,
Donovan They chucked me from
Yale in my junior year. Why, you
may ask? Well, it happened this way:
You know Rooney, the Bellefontaine
Cyclone? He struck New Haven
with a vaudeville outfit, giving exhi-
bitions, poking the bag and that sort
of fake At every town they invited
the local sports to dig up their bright
est amateur middle-weight and put
him against the Cyclone for five
rounds. l brushed my hair the wrong
way for a disguise and went against
him."
And got smashed for your trouble,
hope" l interrupted.
NO The boys in the gallery
cheered so that they fused him, and
he thought l was fruit. We shook
hands, and he turned his head to snarl
at the applause, and, seeing an open
ing, l smashed him a hot clip in the
chin, and he tumbled backward and
broke the ring rope. l vaulted the
orchestra and bolted, and when the
boys finally found me I was over near
Waterbury under barn. Eli wouldn't
stand for it, and back I went to the
button factory; and here l am. sir, by
the grace of God an ignorant man.
How did you find your way here
Gillespie?" demanded.
Il suppose l ought to explain that,
he replied l waited while he re
flected for a moment. He seemed tt
be quite serious, and his brows wrin
kled as he pondered.
81 guessed it about half and for th'
rest, / followed the heaven-kissins
stack of trunks"
He glanced at me quickly, al
though anxious to see how l received
his words.
Have you seen anything Of Henr.
Holbrook in your travels? Be careful
now; l want the truth"
II certainly have not. l hope yo
don't think" Gillespie hesitated.
"It's not a matter for thinking o
guessing; I've got to know
"On my honor l have not seen hin
and l have no idea where he is"
had thrown myself into chai
beside the couch and lighted my pip'
MY captive troubled me. 1t SCENE
odd that he had found the abiding
place of the two women; and II b
had succeeded so quickly, why migf
not Henry Holbrook have equal luck
"You probably know this trouble
some brother WE'LL" l ventured.
"Yes: as we'll as a man of my ae
can know an older man. My father
place at Stamford adjoined the He
brook estate. Henry and Arthur nc
brook married sisters; both wome
died long ago, l believe; but IL
brothers had a business row and wei
to smash. Arthur embezzled, forge
and so on, ana tOoA W lHo ai'i'uUi"o
timber, and Henry has been bus
ever since trying to pluck his siste
He's wild on the subject of his wron'
ruined by his own brother, deprive
of his inheritance by his sister al
abandoned by his only child. the
wasn't much to Arthur Holbroo
Henry was the genius, but after 7
bank went to the bad he sought T.
consultations of rum. He and Hen
married the Hartridge twins who we
the reigning Baltimore bellies in t
early sos 30 runneth the chronic
But | gossip. my dear, sir; Soss
which is against my principles. Ev
the humble button king of Strawoer
Hill must dI aw the line