The Bridgeport evening farmer. [volume] (Bridgeport, Conn.) 1866-1917, 1913-10-03

a simple matter
for him to stop the car. But her sim
gle hearted devotion was not to be so
easily thwarted. 1t had not occurred
to him that he might drive to War
trace Hall and return in time to set
the legal machinery in motion to stop
the frauds. So when he leaned for
ward it was not to throw the electric
switch, as she feared; it was merely
to adjust the wind shield SO that the
blast of the speed rush would not blow
them both breathleSS.
For fifteen miles north OF the capt.
tai the Quaretaro road is a straight
away race track, and Miss Anners
proved herself fearless driver. Al
most before B1ount realized it the
red car was among the hills and climb
ing to the mesa levels. At Shonoho
canyon they passed a horseman ccm-
ing down the canyon road The mans
horse SHE'D at sight Of the car and
threatened to bolt, but Patricia was
looking straight ahead and made no
movement to s1acken speed. In the
passing glimpse Blount thought he
recognized the rider. It was the man
Barto or his double.
By the time the little car@as flying
up the cottonwood sentineled avenue
at Wartrace Hall Patricia had bro
ken a record. The thirty miles from
the capital had been covered in forty
two minutes.
When she brought the car to stand
at the carriage entrance the young wo-
man spoke for the first time since
she had given David Blount's son her
ultdmatum.
"Find your father quickly and say
what it is right to say. When you are
ready to go back I'll keep my promise
and drive you"
1t was old Barnabas who admitted
the bearer of evil tidings. 'fYas, sab;
Marstah Majah's in de library" was
the answer to Blount's question. And,
throwing coat and hat aside, the bear
er OF burdens not his own walked
quickly across the hall and let himself
into the room of trial
''Well, son, you made out to get
here, didn't your said the father
quietly, pushing book aside. DRAW
up chair. Where is the little grip"
B1ount saw instantly that he must
be brief and pitiIess.
FFMiss Anners is at the carriage en-
trance in the car, waiting to take me
back to town." he said, constraining
himself to speak calmly. 81 have an
appointment with Judge Hemingway
which must be kept, and he leaves his
chambers at o'clock. Do you know
why have made that appointment?
The senator shook his head slowly.
"How should know, sonT'
Its not a pleasant thing to have to
tell you,' the younger man went on,
ignoring the chair to which the long
stemmed pipe was pointing. But Pa
tricta says I must. A little over an
hour ago evidence-legal evidence-of
corruption and false registration in
four of the city wards was put into
my hands. You know what I've got
to do with it, father
The older man nodded. Eyes, I
know what you think you've got to do
with it. But wouldn't do it If were
you, son. Haven't you learned that
one of the first rules in the book of
politics is not to hang the dirty clothes
out where everybody can see them?"
Evans heart sank within him. 1t
was evident that his father was still
unsuspecting, still unconscious of the
impending blow. Only utter frankness
could avail now.
ST can't discuss expediency with
you,'' he said hastily. "This evidence
speak of involves you personally.
There is trouble ahead, serious trou-
bic. and you don't seem to realize it.
0TSo ha