The Denison review. [volume] (Denison, Iowa) 1867-current, 1914-12-02
Copyright, 1914 b
CHAPTER XVII. i;#,
The Last Warning.

In the chill, violet-shadowed dusk
Of that clear evening. a chap-fallen
motor car crept sluggishly into the
little mountain town Of Mesquite at
the heels of two mutinous mules, driv'
en- by a chauffeur who steered with
one hand while the other flourished
cracking whip-lash over the backs
of its sole motive power.
Its one passenger, cripple as help
less as the car itself. huddled in a
corner of the rear seat, saluted Mes.
quite with snarl. Though he was In
sore need of such rude comforts as
the town stood prepared to afford him,
his demeanor toward it was that of
one who suffers an indignity rather
than begs accommodation.
And now, as the car crawled to a
pause before the Mountain house
Mosquitoes one caravanserai-and
Mesquite itself, to the last flea-bitten
hound, gathered round to view this
wonder, Mr. Trine's indignation and
chagrin distilled words Of poisonous
import
Far from resenting this, Mesquite.
pipe in mouth, hands in pockets, ad-
mired and applauded. and rather re-
sented the change that befell when
two other strangers (whose earlier ap-
pearance In town had helped make
that one day memorable beyond all
others in Mosquitoes history charged
out of the Mountain house and inter-
rupted the elder devil with cries of
greeting and jubilation.
The leader Of these answered to the
name of Marrophat; his companion
was person named Jimmy. Mes.
quite acquired this information
through paying close attention to the
substance of their communications
with the cripple. More than this, how.
ever, 1t learned little. Something
seemed to have been accomplished by
the two, something that was highly
gratifying to Seneca Trine: for he was
chuckling almost mirthfully when
lifted from the car and carried into
the hotel
What passed between the trio after
they disappeared behind that bed.
chamber door Mesquite could by no
means guess. But that a celebration
of some sort was in progress was evil
denced by the frequency with which
Marrophat and Jimmy called on the
bar for more liquid refreshment.
And toward midnight one belated
Mesquite paused in the street outside
the Mountain house for one last curl
GUS stare at the lighted windows Of
Mr.. Trine's quarters
He saw, clearly silhouetted against
the glowing oblong of the window, the
Mephistophelean profile of Seneca
Urine, distorted with grimace Of the
cruelest joy that ever heart Of man
conceived. He saw Marrophat ap-
proach his master with drunken
swagger and speech which. though
indistinguishable to the unseen au-
ditor, unquestionably afforded both Of
the other men ample excuse for &C..
static glee Toward its conclusion
Mr.. Marrophat apparently capped the:
peak of jubilatiOn by fumbling in his
coat pocket and bringing forth some
thing which strongly resembled SIM
gle playing card.
Now when he had contrived to.
master his mirth, the cripple made a
gesture which eloquently abolished
this card, gesture which said quite
plainly: "All that is finished. The
thing has served its purpose! To
hell with it,"
Whereupon. with a smart jerk of his
wrist, Mr.. Marrophat sent the card
spinning and sailing out through the
open window to lose itself in the night.
The watcher didn't see 1t fall, and
though he spent an unconscionable.
time searching for it in the deep dust