Grant County herald. [volume] (Lancaster, Wis.) 1850-1968, 1913-04-23

the window with his fingers. That
he did not instantly topple over with
a great noise was due to the fact
that he was temporarily paralyzed.
Here was the end of the puzzle. The
riddle of the United Romance and Ad-
venture Company was solved. At last
he understood why Mrs Chedsoye
had sought him, why Ryanne had kid
mapped him. But for his continuing
his journey upon the German-Lloyd
boat, he would have come home
week too late; he would have missed
being spectator (already an inno-
cent contributor) to one of the most
daring and ingenious bank-robberies
known in the pages of metropolitan
crime. There was Mrs. Chedsoye, in
trusively handsome as ever; there
was her rascally card-sharper brother,
that migrate who called himself Ry-
anne, and three unknown men. The
impudence Of it; the damnable inso-
lence of it! And there they were,
toasting their success in a brace Of
his own ntage-champagne! But the
wine was, after all, inconsequential. It
was what he saw upon the floor that
| caught him by the throat. His knees
weakened, but he held on grimly to
his perch.
White bags of gold, soiled bags of
gold, and neat packs of green and yell
low notes: riches! Twenty bags and
| as many packets of currency; a mil
lion, not penny under that! George
was seized with a horrible desire to
yell with laughter. He felt the each
innations bubble in his throat. He
swallowed violently and gnawed his
lips. They had got into his house IN
der false pretenses and had tunneled
back into the Northumberland
Bank, of which Horace's brother was
president and in which he, George P.
A. Jones, always carried a large pri-
vate balance! It was the joke Of
the century.
AS quietly as he possibly could, he
stepped down from his uncertain
perch. In the fine fury that followed
| his amazement, his one thought was
| to summon the police at once, to con-
| front the wretches in their villainy;
| but once outside in the street, he
cooled. Instantly he saw the trial in
court. Fortune as witness against her
own mother. That was horrible and
not to be thought Of But what could
he do? He was shaken to his soul.
The stupendous audacity of such a
! plan! To have worked out every de-
tail, down to the altering of the key
| hole to prevent surprise! He saw
the automobiles. They were leaving
that night. If he acted at ALL it must
be within an hour; in less than that
time they would be loading the cars.
His mind began to rid itself of it's
confusion. Without the aid of the
police; and presently he saw the way
| to do it.
He was off at dog-trot, upon the
balls of his feet, silently. Within five
minutes he was mounting the steps
to the Mortimer home, and in another
minute was inside: The others saw di-
rectly that something serious had hap
pened.
whats the trouble, George? House
vanished?" asked Mortimer.
Have you got brace of revolv-
rs?" said George quietly.
1.-TWO automatics. But %
"Give them to me-" less evenly in
tone. "Will you call up Arthur Wads-
worth, president of the Merchant Me-
chanic Bank?"
''The bank?"
eyes, the bank. You know, it is
! just in the rear of my house."
Here Fortune came forward. All
the bright color was gone from her
cheeks; the old mask Of despair had
reformed. She needed no further en-
lightenment.
"Are you going back there?" she
asked.
eyes, dear; I must. Mr.. Mortimer
will go with me-"
"And To-
mo, heart o. mine; you've got to
stay here
eff you do not take me with you,
you will not find me here when you re-
turn"
my child" began Mortimer sooth-
| 1ngly, you must not talk like that.
There will be danger"
"Then notify the police, and let the
danger rest upon their shoulders" she
said, her jaws set squarely.
81 can't call in the police" replied
| George, miserable.
shall | tell you why?"
Dearest, can't you understand that
it is you am thinking of"
II am determined. If I do not go
with you, you shall never see me
again. My mother is there!"
Tragedy. Mrs. Mortimer stretched
out hand, r the girl did not see
| 1t. Her mott her own flesh and
blood! Oh, the poor child!
"Come, them" said George, in de-
spair. "But you are hurting me, For
| tune"
Forgive me, but I must go with
you l must!"
Get me the revolvers, Mr.. Morti-