The Bridgeport evening farmer., 1912-07-23
White Cat
Copyright. 1910. by Bobhs.
 Merrill Go.

until that gentleman left home. doubt if he will ever recover" | With Carter gone, his retreat cover ed by the police, supplied with funds from some problelnatical source, fur ther search for him was worse than useless. In fact. Davidson strongly in- timated that it might be dangerous and would be certainly unpleasant. ! yielded ungraoiously and ordered the cab to take me home. But on the way I cursed my folly for not having fol lowed this obvious clew earlier, and wondered what this thing could be that Garter knew, that was at least surmised by various headquarters men and yet was so carefully hidden from the world at large.
 The party newspapers had come out that day with signed statement from MT. Fleming's physician in Plattsburg that he had been in i'll health and in- clined to melancholia for some time. The air was thick with runors of diff 1 ferences with his party, The dust cloud covered everything, Pretty soon it would settle and hide the tracks of
 
 ] its protection.
 Davidson left me at a corner down town. He turned to give me a parting admonition.
 tThere's an old axiom in the mills around here. Never sit down on a piece of metal until you spit on it. If it sig zles, don't sit" He grinned, "Your | @ok iS standing, with your hands over your head Confldentially. there ain't any thing within expectorating distance just now that ain't pretty well het up.' ] He left me with that, and did not see him again until the night at the White Cat. wben he helped put me through the transorn. Recently, how ever, I have met him several times. 1 He invariably mentions the $8 and his intention of repaying it. Unfor- tunately the desire and the ability have not yet happened to coincide.
 I took the evening train to Bellwood and got there shortly after 8 in the midst of the Sunday evening calm, and the calm of place like Bellwood is the peace of death without the hope of resurrection.
 Promiscuous inquiry was not advis- able. So far Miss Jane's disappear ance was known to very few, and Hun ter had advised caution. I wandered up the street and turned at random to the right. 4 few doors ahead newish red brick building proclaimed itself the postofice. It occurred to me that here inside was the one Individual who, the- oretically at least, in small place all ways knows the idiosyncrasies of it's people.
 The postmaster proved to be one armed veteran of the civil war, and he was sorting rapidly the contents of a mail bag, emptied on the counter.
 "No delivery tonight" he said short | ly. Sunday delivery, to g."
 T suppose, then. couldn't get dol lars worth of stamps?''
 we don't sell stamps on Sunday nights" he explained. "But if you're in hurry for them'-
 ''I am," I lied And after he had got them out. counting them with a wrin- kled finger, and tearing them off the sheet with the denberation of age, I opened a general conversation.
 It was when I asked him about his empty sleeve, and he had told me that he lost his arm at Charlottesville. That we became really friendly. When he said he had been corporal in Gen. eral Maitland's command my path was one of ease.
 ''The Maitland ladiesl I should say I do," he said warmly. 'T've been fighting with Letitia Maitland as long as can remember. That woman will scrap with the angel Gabriel at the resurrection, if he wakes her up be- fore she's had her sleep out"
 Miss Jane is not that sort. is she7"
 stNfiss Jane? She's an angel-she Is that She could have been married a 1, dozen times when she was girl. but Letitla wouldn't have it. I was after her myself forty-five years ago"
 '''I suppose from that the Maitland ladies are wealthy" I said
 Wealthy! They don't know what they're worth-not that it matters a mite to Jane Maitland. It's shame ful thing that woman as old as Jane Ehpuld have to get her letters surrep t3tiously. For more than a year now she's been coming here. twice a week for her mail, and I've been keeping il for her. Rain or shine, Mondays and Thursdays, she's been coming, and 8 sight of letters she's been getting too T
 Did she come last Thursday?" asked overeagerly The postmaster all at once regarded me with suspicion.
 'T don't know whether she did ol not" he said coldly, and my further attempts to bef:uIip l-.-. -.u .,...- ton failed. I pocketed my stamps and by that time his resentment at my curiosity was fading. He followed me to the door and lowered his voice eau tiously.
 "Any news of the old lady?" he ask ed. "It ain't generally known around here, that she's missing, but Heppie the cook there, is a relation of m5 wife's."
 Gro Be Continued.)