Ottumwa tri-weekly courier. [volume] (Ottumwa, Iowa) 1903-1916, 1914-04-09

ing her name, Mr.. Magee, | say go IN
and do it. 1t sure is time she settled
down and gave up -tbis-gave it
all up before something awful happens
to her. You won't forget-the very
next train, Mr.. Magee?"
"The very next" Magee agreed
In through the dining-room door
stamped Quimby, grave of face, dazed
at being reused from sleep, and with
him an important little man whose
duty it was to investigate at Upper
Asquewan Falls such things as had
happened that night at Baldpate. Even
from his slumber he rose with the air
of a judge and the manner Of a Sher-
lock Holmes. For an hour he asked
questions and in the end he prepared
to go in seemingly satisfied state OF
mind.
Quimby's face was very awed when
he came downstairs after visit to the
room above.
poor fellow" he said to Magee.
I'm sorry-he was so young" For
such as Quimby carry no feud beyond
the gates. He went over and took
Hendricks hand.
81 never had chance he said, "to
thank you for all you tried to do for
me and my invention"
''And it came to nothing in the end?"
Kendrick asked.
Nothing" Quimby answered. q
l had to creep back to Baldpate Noun
tain finally-broke and discouraged.
have been here ever since. All my
blue prints, all my models-they're
locked away forever in chest up in
the attic"
Not forever. Quimby,' Kendrick re-
piled. Il always did believe in your
invention-I believe in it still. When
l get back into the harness-Tm sure
l can do something for you
Quimby shook his head. He looked
to be half asleep.
ut don't seem possible" he said.
"No-it's all been buried so long-all
the hope-all the plans-it don't seem
possible it could ever come to life
again.
But it can, and it WILL cried Ken
drick. I'm going to lay stretch OF
track in. Reuton with your joints.
That's all you need-theyll have to
use EN- then. Well force the Civic
into it. We can do it, Quimby-we
surely can"
Quimby rubbed his hand across his
eyes.
you'll lay a stretch of track" he
repeated. That's great news to me,
Mr.. Kendrick. II can't thank you
now His voice was husky. "I'll
come back and take care of-him," he
said, jerking his head toward the room
upstairs. Il got to go now-this min
ute-I got to go and tell my wife I
got to tell her what you've said"
CHAPTER XIX
ExeuntO mnes, az Shakespeare Has It.
At four in the morning Baldpate Inn
wrapped in the arms of winter, had
all the rare gaiety and charm OF a
baseball bleechers On Christmas Eve.
Looking gloomily out the window, Mr..
Magee heard behind him the steps on
the stairs and the. low cautions of
Quimby, and two men he had brought
from the village, who were carrying
something down to the dark carriage
that waited outside. He did not look
round. 1t was picture he wished
to avoid.
So this was the end-the end Of his
two and half days of solitude-the
end of his light-hearted exile On Bald
pate Mountain. He thought OF Bland,
lean and white of face, gay of garb,
fleeing through the night, his Arabella
fiction disowned in the real tragedy
that had followed. He thought OF
Cargan and Max, also fleeing, wrath
full, sneering, by BANDS side. He
thought Of Hayden, jolting down the
mountain in that black wagon. So 1t
ended
So it ended-most preposterous end
with William Hallowell Magee mad
ly, desperately, in love- BY the gods
lin love! In love with a fair gay
hearted girl for whom he had fought,
and stolen, and snapped his fingers at
the law as it blinked at him in the
person of Professor Bolton Billy
Magee, the calm, the. unsusceptible,
who wrote of popular cupid but had
always steered clear of his shots. In
love with a girl whose name he did
not know; whose motives were mostly
in the fog. And he had come up here
to be alone.
For the first time in many hours he
thought Of New York, of the fellow at
the club, of what they would say when
the jocund news came that Billy Ma
gee had gone mad on a mountainside.
He thought of Helen Faulkner, naughty
unperturbed, bred to hold herself
above the swift catastrophies of the
world. He could see the arch of her
patrician eyebrows, the shrug of her
exquisite shoulders, when young Will
liams fastened up the avenue and
poured into her ear the merry story.
Well-so be it. He had never cared
for her. In her superiority he had
found challenge, in her icy indiffer-
ence trap, that lured him on to try
his hand at winning her. But he had
never for moment caught glimmer-
ing of what it was really to care-to
care as he cared now for the girl who
had gone from somewhere
down the mountain.
Quimby dragged into the room, the
strain of rather wild night in Upper
Asquewan Falls in his eyes.
'.Jake Peters asked me to tell you
he amt coming back" he said. mis-
Quimby is getting breakfast for you