Bisbee daily review., 1913-12-02

Rosalie turned her first attention At che foot of the white counterpane. her eyes stopped--stopped and rested.
 Irs spOIted.~ sne salu almost unoer ner breath.
 Inspector MeGee looked also.
 That's easy" said he. They opened the window II was raining. wasn't it2 Well. the rain came in and stained H."
 '1 suppose so," said Rosalie. But she made a minute examination. Let us violate for a second the privacy of her mind Dear old dopel" it was saying, he hasn't thought to look into the weather that night He don't know it had cleared up and stopped rain. ing for good when came into the house; and saw them open the win dows myself"
 Well" she said aloud. that's all for the bed. Now let's see the furniture an his clothes an everything
 It was half an hour before Rosalie finished her search of the room. She went over 1t inch by inch, her lips pursed. her hands making quick fiut- ters of disgust over the dirt and dis order. She spoke little, and then as though to herself. Inspector McGee, finally, gave up following her swift movements, mental and physical, and rested himself in a Morris chair. His was life of grim hard things; these surroundings, depressing even to Rosa. lie, were to him part Of the days work. And so he fell 10 watching not the search for evidence but the figure of Rosalie Le Grange. There was something pleasing, and more than pleasing, about this woman here. He remembered how she had appeared to him ten years ago, when she began flashing in and out of his life. He had been sitting in another house of mur. der, and he had seen her cross the street. He had marked her then as "a peach'-a little too plump for his idea of beauty, but pretty nevertheless. She had brown hair then; and those big gray eyes. The eyes remained as they were, but there was a foam of white across her hair. The face had fallen into delicate ridge here and there, though massage had taken care of the wrinkles, which showed not as yet. Her figure had broadened a littIe-yet she still bore it wonderfully The skin of her long plump hands had begun to gather about the knuckles And still she appealed to him as she had nev- CT appealed in those first days He had no great amount of imagination; F. a approximation they were both young
 The flight stopped there: the bird of imagination futtered to earth, killed
 by an arrow of memory. This was had always been-a medium, a profes-
 sional faker. In their early acquaint- snce she had duped even him. She
 was next door to a crook; and he dwelt so close to crooks as to have his alterations, but also his prejudices. No, she wasn't the kind for a man. But it was pity. The broad, sturdy ! police bosom of Martin McGee heayed
 with a sigh.
 The sigh did not escape Rosalie Le | Grange; little in her surroundings ever ! escaped her. She appeared to come
 out of her thoughtful mood, and her | dimples flashed.
 Getting tired?" she asked. "No," he said. And then suddenly: | Rose, why did you ever start it?" Being a medium, you mean?" "Yes. The word was out of his lips
 before wonder entered his mind. ] z4F '
 was thinking of? You make me won | der if there ain't something in your mediumship."
 Well" said Rosaiie When you're ! left an orphan at twelve-there ain't
 much choice. Professor Vango adopt.
 ed me-my mother was in his circle. | Old fake! But he had mediumship, | too; an he thought, an I thought, he | brought somethin' out of me. Anyhow, l saw things. So l became a medium. | like you became a cop-because it hap | pened that way. Sometimes" added | Rosalie, drawing all sting from her | words by a flash of her dimples, "I | think you're awful stupid. Martin Mo Gee. an sometimes I think you're a ] NOHNc4s lAS bSASA any dSCOAuiHS tO
 whether or no you agree with me. As
 you mostly do, I generally call you a
 wonder. An you've got get-there be- sides. Slow, but you do get there"
 This bit of conversation fulfilled Ro- ! salie's purpose. It turned the sub 1 ject from herself to Inspector McGee's ! self; and she knew from a life of ex- 1 perience that no man lives who can re- siet that lure.
 How do you feel about me today?" ! he asked with heavy male coquetry. T haven't made up my mind today. !" she said, "but it's veerin' toward the stupid" She crossed the room and | fumbled with the catch Of the south
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