Baraboo weekly news. [volume] (Baraboo, Wis.) 1912-197?, 1912-09-19

had known that he was in Cairo;
| where her mother and uncle were this
secretive man was generally within
calling. There had been a time when
she had eagerly piled him with ques-
tions, but he had always erected bar
riers of evasion, and finally she ceased
her opportunities, for she concluded
that her questions were such. No mat
ter to whom she turned, there was no
one to answer her questions, questions
born Of doubt and fear.
"Ten pounds" repeated Ryanne, a
hand in his pocket.
The merchant laughed. Here were
a young man and his sweetheart. His
experience had taught him, and not
unwisely, that love is an easy victim,
too proud to haggle, too generous to
bargain sharply. "Twenty," he re-
iterated.
"Salaam!" said Ryanne. Good
day!" He drew the somewhat resist
| ing hand Of Fortune under his arm
and made for the door. "Sh!" he whis-
pered. Leave it to me-" They gained
the street.
The merchant was dazed. He had
misjudged what he now recognized as
an old hand. The two were turning
up another street when he ran out,
shouting to them and waving the
pendant Ryanne laughed.
"Ten pounds. I am poor man, ef-
fendi. and / need the money. Ten
pounds. am giving it away" The
merchants eyes filed with tears, a
trick left to him from out Of the ruins
of his youth, that ready service to
forestall the merited rod
Ryanne counted out ten sovereigns
and put the pendant in Fortunes
hand. And the pleasure in his heart
was such as he had not known in
many days. The merchant wisely hur.'
ried back to his shop.
"But :" she began protest
ingly.
"Tut, tut! have known you since
you wore short dresses and tam-o-
shanters."
81 really cannot accept it as gift.
let me borrow the ten pounds"
| "And why can't you accept a little
gift from me?"
! She had no ready answer. She
gazed steadily at the dull pearls and
the faky emera1ds. She could not ask
him where he had got those sover-
eigns. She could not possibly be so
cruel. She could not dissemble in
words like her mother. That gold she
knew to be a part of dishonest bar
gain whose forestep had been theft
more, sacrilege. Her honesty was
like pure gold, unalloyed, unmixed
with sophistic subterfuges. That the
young man who had purchased the rug
might be mildly peccable had not yet
occurred to her
'Why not, Fortune?" Ryanne was
very earnest, and there was a pinch at
his heart.
Because -"
Don't you like me just 1ittle?"
''Why, do like you, Horace. But
do not like any man we'll enough to
accept expensive gifts from him.
do not wish to hurt you,. but it is i'm
possible. The only concession Til
make is to borrow the money"
well, then, let it go at that" He
was too wise to press her.
"And can you afford to throw away
ten pounds?" with assumed lightness.
''My one permanent impression of you
is the young man who was always
| forced to borrow car-fare whenever he
returned from Monte Carlo"
ga fool and his money. But I'm a
rich man now" he volunteered. And
briefly he sketched the exploit Of the
Yhiordes rug.
'It was very brave of you. But has
it ever occurred to you that it wasn't
honest?"
"Honest?" frankly astonished that
she should question the ethics. ooh,
say, Fortune; you don't call it dishon-
est to get the best of a pagan! Aren't
they always getting the best of us?"
eff you had bargained with him and
beaten him down, it would have been
different. But, Horace, you stole it;
you admit that you did,"
81 took my life in my hands. I
think that evened up things"
"No. And you sold it to Mr.. Jones"
Eyes, and Mr.. Jones was only too
glad to buy it. told him the facts.
He wasn't particularly eager to bring
up the ethics of the case. Why, child,
what the deuce is Turk? l shouldn't
cry out if some one stole my Bible"
Good gracious! do you carry one?"
'FWell, there's always one on the
room-stand in the hotels / patronize.
II suppose it all depends upon how
we look at things"
That's it. A different pair of spec
tacles for every pair of eyes"
II only he weren't in love with her!
thought the girl. He would then be
an amusing comrade. But whenever
he met her he quietly pressed his suit
He had never spoken openly of love.
for which she was grateful. but his at
tentions, his little Hndnesses, his IN
obtrusive protection when those other
men were at the villa, made the read