Catoctin clarion. [volume] (Mechanicstown, Md.) 1871-1940, 1912-05-02

"All right. dear, III obey you." she
answered, meekly
"Obey mel" Ira laughed with boy
ish swagger. And you a mission
ary!"
well, I've converted one heather,
anyway" said Anne as she darted
down the corridor, followed by Ira,
who announced his intention to ''go
to the baggage car and dig up his old
Prince Albert"
In their flight forward they passed
the mysterious woman in the state
room. They were too full OF their
own mystery to give thought to hers.
Mrs. Fosdick went timidly prowling
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 cllbroom 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 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 you?"
"YaasGh. 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
saunteyel out. Ashton rerked up his
ears at the promise of tunnel and
kept his eye on his watch.
Fosdick entered the observation
room with hungry look in his
luscious eyes. His now-and-then wife
put up warning finger to indicate
Mrs. Whitcombs presence at the
writing desk.
Fosdick's smile froze into smirk
OF formality and he tried to chill his
tone as If he were speaking to total
stranger.
Good afternoon"
Mrs. Fosdick answered with equal
ice Good afternoon. Won't you sit
down."
Thanks. Very picturesque seen
cry, isn't IT."
Isn't it?" Fosdick seated himself
oh
Mrs. Whitcomb was apparently alb
sorbed in her letter, then lowered his
voice contidentially. His face kept up
strained pretense of Indifference,
but his whisper was passionate with
longing:
Has my poor little wifey missed
her poor old hNbby?'
"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
sef:."
"Oh, so miserable! / can't stand it
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 60 to the
bookshelves, and taking out a book
happened to glance near-sightedly her
way.
BE careful of that man, dearie,"
Mrs. Fosdick hissed out of one side
of her mouth. Hes very strange
character"
Her husband was infected with her
own terror. He asked, huskily: What
do you think he is?"
"A detective! I'm sure he's watch
ing us. He followed you right In
here"
Wen 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 tilmy
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
to her and offered her one of his own
cigars, smiling: Have another"
She took it, looked 1t over, and
parried his irony with a formula she
had heard men use when they hate
to refuse a gift-cigar: Thanks. I'll
smoke 1t after dinner, If you don't
mind"
"Oh, I don't mind" he laughed, then
bending closer he murmured: They
tell me we are coming to 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
Ashtons hint with q laughing chal-
lenge:
How nice of the conductor to ar