Abbeville progress. (Abbeville, Vermilion Parish, La.) 1913-1944, 1914-01-17

/ upon his model and was so placed
that while his face was not visible,
his hands were, and as Sweetwater
watched these hands and noticed the
delicacy Of their manipulation. he was
enough Of workman to realize that
work so fine called for an undivided
attention. He need not fear the gaze
shifting. while those hands moved as
warily as they did now.
Relieved for the moment, he left
his post and, sitting down on the edge
of his cot, gave himself up to thought
Suddenly he started upright He
would go meet his fate-be present
in the room itself when the discovery
was made which threatened to upset
all his plans. He was not ashamed
Of his calling, and Brotherson would
think twice before attacking him when
once convinced that he had the de-
partment back of him.
Excuse me. comrade," were the
words with which he endeavored to
account for his presence at Broth
eTson's door. My lamp smells So
and I've made such a mess of my
work today that I've just stepped in
for a chat. If I'm not wanted, say so.
I'd like a big room like this, and lot
of books, and-and pictures,
Look at them. then. | like to see
man interested in books Only. /
thought if you knew how to handle
wire. l would get you to hold this end
while | work with the other"
Il guess | know enough for that"
was Sweetwater's gay rejoinder. But
when he felt that communicating wire
in his hand and experienced for the
first time the full influence Of the
others eye. it took all his hardihood
to hide the hypnotic thrill it gave
him. He found himself gazing long
and earnestly at this mans hand. and
wondering if death lay under it. II
was a strong hand. def, clean-cut
member. formed to respond to the
slightest hint from the powerful brain
controlling it. But was this its whole
story. Had he said al when he had
said this?
Fascinated by the question. Sweet
water died a hundred deaths in his
awakened fancy. as he followed the
sharp, short instructions which fell
with cool precision from the others
lips. A hundred deaths, I say. but
with no betrayal of his folly. The
anxiety he showed was that of one
eager to please, which may explain
why on the conclusion of his task,
Mr.. Brotherson' gave him one of his
infrequent smiles and remarked. as
he buried the model under its COW
er, You're handy and you're quiet at
your job. Who knows but what ! shall
want you again. viii you come if
call your"
Won't -" was the gay retort, as
the detective. thus released, stopped
for the book still lying OH the floor.
"Paolo and Francesca" he read, from
the back, as he laid it on the table.
Poetry" he queried
Rot" scornfully returned the 9TH
er, as he moved to take down a bot
tie and some glasses from a cupboard
let into another portion of the wall
Sweetwater. taking advantage of the
moment. sidled towards the shelf
where that empty space still gaped
with the telltale hole at the back
He could easily have replaced the
missing book before Mr. Brotherson
turned. But the issue was too doubt
full He was dealing with no absent
minded fool. and it 5ehooved him to
avoid above all things calling atten-
tion to the book or to the place on the
shelf where it belonged.
But there was one thing he could
do and did. Reaching out a finger as
deft as Brotherson's own. he pushed a
second volume into the place of the
one that was gone. This yelled the
auger-hole completely; a fact which
so entirely relieved his mind that his
old smile came back like sunshine to
his lips. and it was only by a distinct
effort that he kept the dancing humor