The Breckenridge news. (Cloverport, Ky.) 1876-1955, 1912-07-03

In their flight forward they passed
the mysterious woman in the state
room. They we're too full of their
own mystery TO give thought to hers.
Mrs. Fosdick went timidly proving
toward the observation car, suspect
ing everybody to be spy, as Mallory
suspected everybody to be a clergy
man In disguise.
AS she stole along the corridor
past the mems clubroom she saw her
husband-her here-and-there husband
--wearily counting the telegraph
posts and summing them up into
miles. She tapped on the glass and
signalled to him, then passed on.
He answered with a look, then pre-
tended not to have noticed. and wait
ed few moments before he rose with
an elaborate air of carelessness. He
beckoned the porter and said:
Let me know the moment we en-
ter Utah, will your"
"Yassah. Well be comm along
right soon now We got to pass
through the big Aspen tunnel, after
that. befo' long, we splounce into old
Utah"
Don't forget" said Fosdick, as he
sauntered out. Ashton perked up his
ears at the promise of a tunnel and
kept his eye on his watch.
Fosdick entered the observation
room with a hungry look in his
luscious eyes. His now-and-then wife
put up a warning finger to indicate
Mrs. Whitcomb's presence at the
writing desk.
Fosdicks smile froze into a smirk
of formality and he tried to chill his
tone as if he we're speaking to total
stranger.
GOOD afternoon"
Mrs. Fosdick answered with equal
ice: Good afternoon. Won't you sit
DOWN."
Thanks. Very picturesque seem
cry, isn't it?'
isn't it?" Fosdick seated himself,
looked about cautiously. noted that
Mrs. Whitcomb was apparently alb
sorbed in her letter, then lowered his
voice confidentially. His face kept up
a strained pretense OF Indifference,
but his whisper was passionate with
longing:
HAS my poor little wiley missed
her poor old hubby?"
"Oh, so much!" she whispered.
HAS poor little hubby missed his
poor old wife?"
Horribly. Was she lonesome in
that dismal stateroom all by her.
self"
"Oh, SO miserable! | can't stand 1t
much longer"
Fosdick's face blazed with good
news: "In just little while we come
to the Utah line-then we're safe"
God bless Utah."
The rapture died from her face as
she caught sight OF DR.. Temple, who
happened to stroll in and go to the
bookshelves, and taking out book
happened to glance near-sightedly her
way
BE careful of that man, dearie,"
Mrs. Fosdick Kissed out of one side
of her mouth. He's a very strange
character"
Her husband was infected with her
own terror. He asked, huskily: What
do you think he is?"
"a detectivel I'm sure he's watch
ing US. He followed you right in
here"
We'll be very cautious-till we get
to Utah."
The old clergyman, little fuzzy in
brain from his debut in beer, contin-
ued innocently to confirm the appear
ance of a detective by drifting aim
lessly about. He was looking for his
wife, but he kept glancing at the un-
easy Fosdicks. He went to the door,
opened it, saw Mrs. Wellington finish
ing cigar, and retreated precipitate-
ly. Seeing Mrs. Temple wandering in
the corridor, he motioned her to a
chair near the Fosdicks and she sat
by his side, wondering at his filmy
eyes.
The Fosdicks, glancing uncomfort-
ably at Dr. Temple, rose and selected
other chairs further away. Then
Roger Ashton sauntered in, his eyes
searching for a proper companion
through the tunnel.
He saw Mrs. Wellington returning
| from the platform, just tossing away
her cigar and blowing out the last Of
its grateful vapor.
With an effort at sarcasm, he went
| 70 her and offered her one of his own
cigars, smiling: Have another"
She took it, looked it over. and
parted his irony with formula she
had heard men use when they hate
to refuse a gift-cigar: Thanks. I'll
smoke it after dinner, If you don't
mind"
"Oh, don't mind" he laughed, then
bending closer he murmured: They
tell me We are coming to a tunnel. a
nice, long, dark, dismal tunnel"
Mrs. Wellington would not take a
dare. She felt herself already eman
cipated from Jimmie. So she answered