The Bridgeport evening farmer., 1912-08-07


 "Barnminster says the fellow ran when he saw him today" his lordship was saying. But that doesn't help matters. He has been on my land again and again, Tompkins says, and Tompkins ought to know" "And James, too," said the duke with branded roar.
 Cant Tompkins and his men keep that man off my 1and?' demanded Lady Bazlehurst. Every one took note or the pronoun. Her ladyshtp's temples seemed to narrow with hatre1. Bazel- hurst had told the men privately thGE she was passing sleepless nights in or der to 'thate that fellow Shaw" to her full capacity.
 My dear, I have given positive or ders to Tompldns, and he swears he'll carry them out" said he hastily.
 'T suppose Tompkins is to throw him into the river again"
 ''He is to shoot that fellow Shaw if he doesn't keep off our land. I've had enough of it. They say he rode his confounded blow horse all over the west end the other day" Penelope smiled refectively. 'Trampled the new fern beds out of existence and all that. Hang him, Tompkins will get him if he persists. He has told the men to take shot at the rascal on sight. Tompkins doesn't love him, you know"
 Penelope went her way, laughing, and forgot the danger that threatened Randolph Shaw.
 The next morning, quite early, she was off for canter Somesmagnetic force drew. her toward that obfiterated line in the roadway. Almost as she came up to it and stopped Randolph Shaw rode down the hillside through the trees and drew rein directly oppo- site, the noses of their horses almost touching. With smile he gave the military salute even as she gasped in self conscious dismayA
 "On duty, Miss Drake; no trespass- ing," he said. There was glad ring in his voice "Please don't run away. You're on the safe side"
 "f,m not going to run" she said, her cheek flashing. How do you know where the line ie? 1t has been de- stroyed by the ravages of time"
 "Yes. It has seemed year. This thing of acting sentinel so religiously is bit wearing" His great friendly dog came across the line, however, and looked bravely up into the enemy's face, wagging his tail. Traitor! Come back. Bonaparte!'. cried his master.
 What beautiful dogr' she cried, sincere admiration in her eyes. 'I love big dog. He is your best friend, FH wager."s
 Love me, love my dog is my mot to-"
 The conversation was not prolonged Penelope began to hnd herself on rath- CT ffiendly, terfns with the enemy. Confusion csfne oyer, her when she re- menbeYsd that she was behaving in most unmaidsnlyv manner. Doubtless that was why she brought the meet ing Do . close by galleping away.
 The ways of fortune are strange, look at them from any point of view. Surprising as it may seem, a like en- counter happened on the following day and--aye, on the day after and every day for week or more. Occasions ! there were when Penelope was com pelled to equivocate shamefully in or der to escape the companionship of the duke, the count or others of their ilk. Once when the guardian of the road was fate at his post she rode far into the enemy'g country, actually thrilled by tho joy Of adventure. When he ap-, peared far down the road she turned and fed with all the sensations of culprit, and he thundered after her with vfndictiveness that deserved bet ter results. Across the line she drew rein and faced him defantly, her hair blown awry, her cheeks red, her eyes sparkling.
 "No trespass!' she cried, holding up her gioved hand. He stopped short, for that was one of the terms of truce.
 The next day he again was missing, but she was not to be caught by his stratagem. Instead of venturing into the trap he had prepared for her, she remained on her side of the line, smil 1. ing at the thought of him in hiding far up the road. If any one had suggested to her that she was developing too great an interest in this stalwart gen. tleman she would have laughed him to scorn. 1t had not entered her mind to question herself as to the pleasure she found in being near him. She was founding her actions on the basis that he was & real man and that the little comedy of adventure was quite worth while.
 At length an impatient line appeared on her fair brow, a resentful gleam in her eyes. His remissness was an impertinence! It was the last time she would come but sudden thought struck her like a blow. She turned white and red by turns. Had he tired of the sport? Had the novelty worn of? Was he laughing at her for silly coQuette? The riding crop came down sharply upon her horses flank, and very deeply agitated young wo- man galloped off toward Bazelhurst Villa, hurrying as though afraid he might catch sight of her in flight.
 A quarter of mile brought change in her emotions. British stubbornness arose to combat an utter rout. After all, why should she run away from him? With whimsical bravado she turned of suddenly into the trail that led to the river, her color deepening with the consciousness that, after all, she was vaguely hoping she might see