The Rice belt journal. (Welsh, Calcasieu Parish, La.) 1900-19??, 1913-08-15

] marry Lorenzo"
Which is impossible"
Then the money goes into the fam
lily, Of course, as my dot. Or-or, II
| should die-in that case Stephen
inherits the money. And there Is no
doubt but that Stephen needs money"
Aleck pondered for several minutes.
while grave shadows threatened his
face. But presently his smiling. I'M
quenchable good temper came to the
surface, and he gleefully tucked Me-
lanie's hand under his arm.
las I said before, you need hus-
band very badly" %.
oh, don't know" she laughed.
The result OF Alexis moment OF
grave thought came few days later,
with the arrival of two quietly-dressed
men. He told Melanie that one man
was her chauffeur for the white ma
chine, and the other was an extra hand
he had engaged for the return trip
on the Sea Gull. The chauffeur, how
ever, for one reason or another, rare
ly took the wheel, and could have
| been seen walking at a distance be-
| hind MelaDie whenever she stirred
abroad. The extra hand for the Sea
Gull did just the same as the chauf-
feur.
From the day of the arrival OF the
manager, Mr.. Hands rather mysteri-
Gus but friendly temper underwent a
change for the worse. He not only
continued silent, which might easily
be counted virtue, but he became al,
most snlky, which could only be called
a crime. There was no bantering
with Sallie In the kitchen, scarcely q
friendly smile for Agatha herself. Mr..
Hand was markedly out Of sorts.
On the morning following Mr..
Straker's request that Hand should re-
pair. the car, the manager found him
tinkering in the carriage shed near
the church. The car was lacked up on
a horse block, while one wheel lay
near the road. Mr.. Hand was as grimy
and oily as the law allows, working
over the machinery with sort of
vicious earnestness. Mr.. Straker how
cred around for a few moments, then
addressed Hand in that tone OF
pseudo-geniality that marks certain
type of politician
Look here, colonel, | understand
you were in the employ of that French
anarchist"
1t was an unlucky moment for at
tack, though Mr. Straker did not at
once perceive it. Hand carefully wip
ed the oil from a neat ring Of metal
slid down on his back under the car
and screwed on a nut. AS Mr.. Strak
er, hands in pockets and feet wide
apart, watched the mechanician, there
came through the silence and the
sweet air the sound of thrushes call
ing from the wood beyond. Mr.. Strak
er craned his head to look out at the
church, then at the low stone wall
as If he expected to see the songsters
performing on stage before row OF
footlights. He turned back to Mr.
Hand.
That's right, is it? You worked fol
the slippery Mounseer?"
"Uh-m," Hand grumbled, with q
screw in his mouth. Something like
that"
"What'd you do?"
1--WE found where she was wrenched
in the turnover. Got to. have a new
pin for this off wheel before she goes
much farther"
"All right, III order one by telegraph
today. What'd you do, l asked
Hand wriggled himself out from un
der the car and got on his feet. He
thrust his grimy hands deep into his
pockets, stood for a moment con
4 templative and belligerent, as If un
decided whether to explode or not
and then silently walked away.
AS Mr.. Straker watched his figure
moving slowly toward the kitchen. be
started long low whistle, expressive
of suspicion and doubt. Midway, how
ever, he changed to lively tune
whose title was Eve got him on the
run"-a classic just then spreading w
and down Broadway. He took a few
turns about the car, looked at the gear
ing with knowing air, and then went
into the house.
If he had been a small boy, his
mother would have punished him TO,
stamping through the halls; being q
grown man and a visitor, he may be
described as walking with firm, bold
tread. Finally he was able to rur
down Agatha, who was comforting
with Sallie In the library.
Sallie shifted In scorn of Mr.. STak
err. whom she disliked far worse than
Mr.. Hand; nevertheless, as she left
the room she twisted up her ginghan
apron and tucked 1t into its. band in a
vague attempt at company manners
Mr.. Straker lost no time In attacking
Agatha.
What d'you know about that chauf
feur-nurse and general roustabout
that's taking care of your young gen