Ottumwa tri-weekly courier. [volume] (Ottumwa, Iowa) 1903-1916, 1912-02-10
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The brother was struggling. ''The
telephone. The telephone! I demand
to call the police. This is accessory to
the fact! L tell you. let me go!'
"Mr. Wadsworth," replied George,
IF you do not be still and let me run
this affair, I'll throw the pistols to the
floor, and your brother and his friends
may do as they bally please. Now
step back and be quiet. Stop!" to
Ryanne, whose hand was reaching out
toward the table.
Don't shoot, Percival; want only
a final glass Of wine." Ryanne calm.
ly took the slender stem Of the glass
between his fingers lifted it and drank.
He set it down empty. From his out.
side pocket he drew a handkerchief
and delicately dried his lips. He alone
Of his confederates had life. 1t was
because he alone understood. Prison
wasn't staring them in the face just
yet. well, Arthur, old top. how goes
it? Nearly got your money-bags didn't
we? And we surely would have but
for this delicious vintage"
Damn you and your wine!" roared
the major, shaking with rage. This
adventure had been no joke to him, no
craving for excitement. He wanted
the gold, the gold. With what would
have been his share he could have
gambled at Monte Carlo and Ostend
till the end Of his days. For the first
time he saw long, thick bars Of iron
I running up and down window. And
all for bottle of wine!
Damn away, old SPORT" Ryanne
reached for the bottle and filed his
glass again. "Percival, I'm blamed
sorry about that olive-tree of yours"
He waved his hand toward the bags.
"You can see that my intentions in re-
gard to refunding that hundred pounds
were strictly honorable Now, what's
on the ticket?"
81 suppose your luggage is outside
in the automobiles"
"Right-O!'
well, | need not explain my rea-
sons; you will understand them; but
| am going to give you all two hours
time. Then I shall notify the police.
You will have to take your chance
after that time"
The circling faces frightened per-
ceptibly. Two hours-that would carry
them far into Jersey.
accepted with thanks" said Ry-
anne.
81 refuse to, permit it," yelled the
brother. "Mr. Jones, you will rue this
nights work. / shall see that the law
looks into your actions. This Is fel.
ony. I demand to be allowed to tele'
phone"
"Percival, for heavens sake, let
HIM" cried Ryanne YEARLY. LET him
shout; it will soften his voice. He will
hurt nobody. The wires were cut
hours ago"
| Mortimer felt the tense muscles in
his grasp relax. Arthur Wadsworth
grew limp and reeled against the jamb
of the door.
| "You had better start at once"
George advised. "You three first
with nod toward Wallace (his bull
bous nose now lavender in hue), the
butler and the first-man. FORWARD
march, front door. Go on"
| What about me?" asked Ryanne.
| "In a moment" George could not
but admire the man, rascal though he
his heart as the thought came and
went swiftly; what comrade this
man would have made under different
circumstances! Too late! Halt" he
cried. The trio marching toward the
door came to a stop, their heads
turned inquiringly. Here, Mr.. Morti-
mer; take one Of these guns and cover
the major. He's the one l doubt"
Then George followed the others into
the hall and ironically babe them God.
speed as he opened the door for them.
They went out stupidity; the wine had
dulled them. George Immediately re.
turned to the library.
Neither Fortune nor her mother had
stirred in all this time. A quality of
hypotism held them in bondage. The
mother could not lower her glance and
the daughter would not. If there was
light of triumph in Fortunes eyes, 1t
was unconsciously there. And no one
will know the full bitterness that shone
from the mothers. She could have
screamed with fury: she could have
rent her clothes, torn her skin, pulled
her hair; and yet she sat there with
out physical sign Of the tempest. This
offers serio-comic suggestion; but it
was tragedy enough for the woman
who was in the clutch of these emo
tional storms. It was not her predica-
ment: it was not that she was guilty OF
crime against society: it was not that
she had failed. No. It was because
she, in leaving this house for ever, was
leaving her daughter behind, mistress
of it.
On her side, Fortune knew, that, had
there been a single gesture inviting
pity, she must have flown to her
mothers side. But there was no sign.
Finally, Fortune stepped back, chilled.
1t was all too late.
Fortune" said George, terribly en-
barrassed, edo you wish to speak to
your mother, alone?"
mo" 1t was little word, spoken
in little hushed tone.
Mrs. Chedsoye rose and proceeded to
put on her furs. which she had flung
across the back of her chair.
"Mother!" This came in gasp from
the elder Wadsworth. An understand