The Madisonian. (Richmond, Ky.) 1913-1914, 1913-06-03
CHAPTER x-fcontlnuedl.

"Jes and do not tire of our
friends" she rebuked. But beyond
that. how can any one tell what will
happen? We can just live our best
every day and wait to see further.
Sometimes things get twisted wrong"
What is the matter? What is twist
ed wrong, Miss Floyd?"
She shook her head, smiling across
her shoulders at him.
Nothing but me- Only
feel disgustingly gloomy tonight; as Ii
Jes and were very far apart. Never
mind, wish you all good luck and
victory for the race"
What was that song you were sing
ing on the first day came here?" he
asked irrelevantly.
She hesitated, then struck a few
chords upon the piano. That"
yes, Will you sing 1t to me,
now?"
With her charming trick of prompt
obedience, she at once seated herself
at the instrument.
1t was no ornate classic, no love-
song, that the veivet-and-gold contral-
to voice braided into Stanton's mem
CRY, to be IN the near future torture
more acute than physical pain and per
sonal grief.
oft. in the stfIly night
Ere sflrn1ber's chain hath bound me,
Ford memory brings the light
OF other days around me"
That was the quaint stiff melody oil
fifty years before. that Jessica Floyd
sung to Stanton before they parted.
On reaching home, an hour later
Stanton found letter awaiting him
from the assistant manager, Green. II
was dated from Long Island, and re-
minded him that the course would be
Upen for the last days practice next
morning during the early hours.
.'The car is at last ready, and IL
you see Jes Floyd, tell him that we,
can not get along without him any
longer" ran the concluding sentence.
Stanton put down the letter. frewn-
ing at it In irritated astonishment.
Had not Floyd gone to prepare for the
race, with Green and by his direct or,
der? How then could he, Stanton.
know anything about his mechaniciall
and why did not Green know every
thing? Possibly Floyd had been kept
at the Mercury factory; but in that
case Green would surely have sent
there for him, instead of trusting Il,
the faint chance of Stanton's encoun-
tering him. OF course Floyd must be
ready to go out for the delayed pracs
tice work next morning Stanton rose
inpatiently; OF course he would be
ready
A thought ike a needleprick lhalteti
hfrn when halfway across the room. d
wild fancy Could It be conceived
credible that Valerie Carlisle did wish
to prevent the Mercury car from rad
ing. and, failing to reach the driver,
might attempt to keep away the mectl-
anician she fnew to be so valuable?
He recalled his own strange illness ON
the eve of the Massachusetts race.
On an impnsse beyond restrain, he
turned to his telephone; there would
he some one to tell him of Floyd at
the factory. Tor it was MARKING night
and day to I'll its orders.
yves, ss7 Frenchwood. the thin
voice fnsLIay came along the wire.
eyes. Mercury. Mr.. Stanton.2 Wait. z
The instrument roared vflely; he
knew it was the din of the huge ell-
gdnes he heard across thirty niles 81
distance.
HeIlo." another voice took up.
through the drcne. Stanton? This
is Mr.. Bailey. What? Oh. why Flcgd's
gone on there was blank clicking
Ito Long Island toniglaf," was faint
" resumed. He'll be on his job when
you need him. Stanton; go a pit easy
on the poor kid. He isn't machineE Z
Stanton exclaimed something ugly
and hung up the receiver with snalt
Bailey was fool, he mentally speeresi,
and Green was another, and he hiIi-
self tire third As for Miss Carlisle,
he had aof sssn or heard Of Der siDee