The Sauk Centre herald. (Sauk Centre, Stearns County, Minn.) 1886-current, 1912-10-10

/
| gambled at Monte Carlo and Ostend
till the end Of his days. For the first
time he saw long, black bars of iron
running up and down a window. And
all for bottle of wine!
Damn away, old sport!" Ryanne
reached for the bottle and filled 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
regard to refunding that hundred
pounds were strictly honorable. Now,
what's on the ticket?"
II suppose your luggage is outside
In the automobiles
"Right-O!"
"Well, I need not explain my rea-
sons; you will understand them; but
/ am going to give you all two hours
time. Then l shall notify the police.
You will have to take your chance
after that time"
The circling faces frightened per-
ceptibly. Two hours-that would car
ry 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. I shall see that the law
looks into your actions. This is fell
ony. l 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 reeIed 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 frst-man. Forward
march, front door. Go on!''
what about me?" asked Ryanne.
'fIn a moment" George could not
but admire the man, rascal though he
was. There was pang of regret in
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 stop, their heads
turned inquiringly. Here, Mr. Nor
timer; take one of these guns and
cover the Major. He's the one I
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
George Immediately returned to the
library.
Neither Fortune nor her mother had
stirred in all this time. A quality Of
hypnotism held them in bondage. The
mother could not lower her glance
and the daughter would not. If there
was a light of triumph in Fortunes
eyes, it was unconsciously there. And
no enc will know tie 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 without physical sign of the
tempest.
On her side, Fortune knew, that, had
there been a single gesture inviting
pity, she must have flown to her moth
er's side. But there was no sign.
Finally, Fortune stepped back, chilled.
1t was all too late.
Fortune" said George, terribly en-
barrassed, "do 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 a gasp
from the elder Wadsworth. An under
standing of this strange proceeding
began to filter through his mind. The
young girls mother!
Mrs. Chedsoye drew on her gloves
slowly. She offered them to the Ma
jor to button. He flung the hands
aside. He was not nice under the We.
neer. But Ryanne was instantly at
her service. And curiously she
watched his agile fingers at work over
the buttons; they were perfectly
steady. Then, followed by the Major
and Ryanne, she walked easily toward
the hall. Ryanne paused.
Good night, Arthur. I'm sure you
will not sleep we'll. That handsome
safe is irreparably damaged. / dare
say you will find a way to cover the
loss without any injury to your own
pocket. Old top, farewell! Who was
1t, Brutus or Caesar, who said: I go
but to return'?" The banter left his
face and voice swiftly. "You sneak
Ing BLACKBOARD, you cheater of wild
ows; yes, l shall come again; and
then look to your sleek, sanctimonious
neck! You chucked me down the road
to hell, and the pity of it is, some day
| must meet you there! Fortune,
child" his voice becoming sad, "you
might remember poor beggar In
your prayers tonight. Percival, a
farewell to you. We shall never meet
again. But when you stand upon
that bally old rug there. you'll always
| ,eo me- the fire the tents the camelH