Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1912-06-15
GEORGE c. SFIEDD

Pilon will remember.
Esper shrugged his shoulders. Thou
wouldst have a long memory. then. II
thou remembered all the dollars thou thy
self hast spent and not divided
How further their dispute ran l do not
know. A figure had appeared at the
lower end of the street. a man carrying
a handbag. who stopped and looked one
seemed doubtful. Something familiar
about him made me lick my lips with ex-
pectation. Let him turn up the street and
I was saved. whoever he might be.
He remained between two minds, and
while he decided l ceased to breathe.
Then suddenly he faced toward the vii
lage and came on. Now let my three
murderers talk and idle and enjoy the
air. I looked down upon them gFimiy.
as I verify believed a Higher Eye than
ing. Descarte was listening: but Esper.
hands in trousers pockets. was casting
bored and random glance over the pave
ment. He moved step and bent over.
"Hola, who has been flinging windows
about" he exclaimed
A horrible fear and dreadful rage
swelled in my heart. Esper-Esper, TO
whom I had given three dollars-was to
rob me Of my last hope OF rescue and
life. The unknown man was too tar
steadily. I recognized him. Billy Har-
rington. coming like q champion to the
lists. though he knew it not.
Glass comes from q window, a win
dow from a house." said Esper. sagely.
He examined the first story, likewise
did Pilon and Descarte: he examined the
windows OF the second: their eyes were
lifted with his. Death seemed already to
be stretching out its hand and touching
me. for my body was numbed with
sort II ante-rigor mortis; only my eyes
were capable Of sensible movement. and
they gazed down in a horrible ecstasy OF
expectation. And then three other pairs
Of eyes rose and met mine. What sort
disheveled, skin begrimed, cheek be-
smeared with blood from a glass cut on
my temple; I can only imagine 1t must
have been something grotesque. as are
those of gargoyles on cathedrals OF
French town. For the three men stared
upward in blank Amusement.
Then Pilon exploded with a curse. He
sprang to the door and vanished within;
Descarte hung for moment in bew1lder-
ment. but followed: l knew they were
alone remained. He set his hands on his
hips, head back and surveyed me with
his twitching smile.
rs it you, then. NJ. Granger" he said.
"Come, this Is drell''
Droll 1t might have been to him: to me
It was desperate. l burst into q shout:
"Billy-Billy Harrington
He stopped like q shot at hearing his
name. Fifty feet away, 1t seemed to him
to come from anywhere-my disembodied
voice, as he afterward related. falling
from anywhere. Behind me the door was
thrown open. the room filled with the
sound Of pounding feet. l uttered q final
yell to Billy. q yell for help. a cry full OF
demand OF compelling urgency. of fierce
despair Then hands seized me. my head
was wrenched back into the room. my
body jerked of the stool. and amid
curses and savage imprecations I was
hauled to the opposite end Of the attic.
where my captors thrust me down In my
seat against the wall. Pilon. breathing
hard from his race up two flights OF
stairs. lowered over me like bull.
.Imbecile, you wo0ld rob us of the
money we strive to e&rn?" he shouted at
me. angrily
had flung dice and lost; had done my
best, but Fate WAS too strong for me.
Billy, too, had done the best he could on
such short notice He had looked about
in every direction save the right one;
how could he be expected in q strange
village to turn on the instant to q remote
and disreputable head sticking out OF a
third story attic window? 1t was destiny
that held me here. not Pilon. My bitter
disappointment ceased and fatalism sue
ceeded. A sardonic merriment filled my
heart.
Cant hungry man call for his sup
per-" ] asked.
Ito be continued tomorrow