Harrisburg telegraph. [volume] (Harrisburg, Pa.) 1879-1948, 1914-07-20

the spy's face when he looked again at him and
knew his thoughts had been read.
what have you done with Lucille Love?' he
cried.
Miss Love-" murmured Loubeque his voice
taking on signing note that fairly tortured the
bound for Washington, | believe"
You know man murdered in her
suite-that she was arrested hotel sneak
theif?" Not so much question an accusation
it.
Miss Love has been through many more
trying situations than that" answered Loubeque
slowly, "since she pitted herself against me-"
"Ptted herself against you'll" The light of a
great understanding CLEANED in Gibson's eyes,
mingled with the murderous hatred there. "Then
it was you who stole the papers,"
Quite So" Hugo Loubeque turned upon his
heel, but the iron grip of the officer upon his
shoulder, whirlng him about that their faces
met. Gibson's words came in a sibilant hiss.
"You-you coward. So I owe you my dis
grace-my enforced resignation from the army.
So General Love owes his trial and disgrace to
you So you have kept Lucille from us, knowing
nothing of her. thinking her dead" Words
came so fast they ehoked him Only his rolling
eyes testified to the full extent of his fury. Again
they lighted upon the broad swords. Like a
panther he leaped across the floor, seizing them
and slappng them away from the fastening
Loubeque gravely, quietly, without change of ex-
preston accepted the that hurled at his
feet, placing himself on guard, easily turning the
insane slashes of the officer, who hurled himself
upon him.
Easily, by wrist alone, Loubeoue PLAYED with
the man. His eye held no expression save that
OF one looking very far away sad mournful
distant. That look of indifference only served to
madden Gibson doubly He pressed the attack
but could force no recognition from his adver-
sary. He was painting, breathing, and the spy, de-
spite his years, showed never sign of fatigue.
Furiously he lunged when suddenly, the blade of
his adversary whirled, sending out scores of
scintilating lights it danced in the air above
his head He could hear it whistling about his
ears, singing sinister songs of Death. Yet he
unable to pierce that guard and make an i'm
preston Summoning every last ounce of
strength against his tormentor, he swept the
great blade high behind his back Then he
brought it forward in one swoop that would have
severed the spy.
He fell back as from a blow his wrist
numbed and deadened by the wrench that had
carried the handle of the heavy sword from his
grasp Hugo Loubeque had dropped his own blade
to the floor and studying him quietly. no
glimmer in his eyes. Gibson glared over his head
The sword still swaying from side to side
from the fury with which it had been driven into
the low hanging wooden beam overhead. Instinci
lively his hand reached to his weapon
when Loubeque laid hand of iron upon his
shoulder.
"That will do" he cried sternly "Be a man.
sir" Again that mellowed light drove the light
of anger from his eyes. His lips opened and the
voice of him was little more than sigh ''such
as Miss Lucille Love deserves
Gibson looked at him, startled, aghast Once
more Loubeque would have spoken when, from
below stairs the shrill screech of a po-
rush of feet upon the stairs.
The spy seemed in no wise perturbed, even
though the sounds were growing louder and
louder each fraction of second. His right hand
moved along the desk, picking up small ivory
box, exquistely carved, which he handed to the