The Tupelo journal., 1912-02-16

underlying note OF narones6 IN MS
voice. You were at the Point while
I was there, weren't you? But it's
many years since I've seen you"
At that he crossed the deck to
where young Fanshaw was sitting, and
held out his hand. Tom Fanshaw's
hands remained clasped tightly on the
two arms Of his chair, and the stern
lines of his face never relaxed. though
he was looking straight into Cayley's
eyes. Il remember you at the Point
very WELL" he said, but, unfortunate
ly, there are some stories of your sub
seuuent career which / remember al
together too WE'LL
The girl did not need the sudden
look of incandescent anger she saw in
Philip Cayleys face to turn the sud
den tide of her sympathy toward him.
It was not for this old wrong OF his
that they had summoned him, as to
bar of Justice, to the Aurora's deck,
but to meet the accusation of the muir
der of Perry Hunter. Whether he
was guilty of that murder, OF not, this
raking up of an old. improved offense
was q piece of unnecessary brutality.
She could not understand how kind
hearted old Tom could have done such
a thing. Thinking it over afterward,
she was able to understand little
better.
From behind Toms chair she could
see how heavily this blow he dealt
had told. For one instant Philip Cay
ley's sensitive face had shown a look
of uuspeakable pain, Then it stiffen-
ed into q mere mask-icy; disdainful.
It was q moment before he spoke.
When he did, 1t was to her. II don't
know why this gentleman presumes to
keep his seat" he said 'If II Is as .
precaution against blow, perhaps, he
need not let his prudence interfere
with his courtesy"
HE has just met with an accident.
she said quickly. HE can't stand
No, Tom. Sit STILL" and her hands
upon his shoulders enforced the COM
mand.
Cayley bowed eser SO slightly. Il
suppose he continued, that since
last night you also have heard the
story which this gentleman protests
he remembers so much too well?"
YES" she said.
At that, he turned to old Mr.. Fan
shaw: viii you tell me, sir" he
asked, "for what purpose I was in
vited to como aboard this YACHT"
Tom spoke before his father could
answer-spoke with short, ugly
laugh, You weren't invited. You
were, as the police say, wanted"
BE quiet, Toni" his father COM
manded. That's not the way to talk
to anybody"
Cayley's lips framed q faint satir-
zeal smile; and again he bowed SLOW
ly. But he said nothing, and stood.
waiting for the old gentleman to
70 on.
This Mr.. Fanshaw seemed to find II
rather difficult to do. At last. how
ever, he appeared to find the words
he wanted when Miss Fielding gave
US an account, this morning, Of the
strange visitor she had received last
night, we were-I was, at least-in-
clined to think she had been dream
ing it without knowing it. To con-
vince me that you were real and not
q vision, she showed me material
and highly interesting souvenir OF
your call 1t was AN Eskimo throwing
stick, Mr. Cayley, such as the Alaskan
and Siberian Indians use to throw
darts and harpoons with. 1t happens
that I've had good deal Of exper-
fence among those people, and that
know how deadly an implement 1t is.
He made little pause there, and
then looked up suddenly into Cayley's
face. And l imagine" he continued
very slowly, that you know that as
we'll as l do"
Cayley made no answer at all, but
II Mr.. Fanshaw hoped to and with
those shrewd eyes of his, any look
of guilt or CONSERVATION in the pale
face that confronted him, he was dis
appointed.
Suddenly, he turned to his son:
Where is that thing that Donovan
brought aboard with him just now!"
he asked.
The blood stained dart lay on tho
deck beside Toms chair. He picked
it up and held it out toward his IA
Their, but the elder man, with a ges-
ture, indicated to Cayley that he was
to take it in his hand; then: Jeanne,
my DEAR" he asked, will you fetch
out from the cabin the stick which
dropped from Mr.. Cayley's belt last
night"
When she had departed on the err
rand, he spoke to Cayley: You will
observe that the butt Of this dart il
not notched, rs it would have to be II
1t were shot from bow
/ He did not look at Cayley's face IS
he spoke, but At his hands. Could It
be possihls, hs wondered, that those
hands could hold Che thing with that
sinister brown stain upon 1.-THE stain
OF Perry Hunters blood-without
trembling? Thsy were steady enough.
though, so far az he could see.
When Jeanne came out with the
rlo