The Bridgeport evening farmer., 1914-09-24
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 Lucille turned as though to run. There came a swift vision before her., one that made her step swiftly within the wall of mantled darkness, Eyes met her own eyes, eyes that seemed to force their way through the dark in terior and cause her to forget every thing that had interVened, eyes that noirrcred message of love and faith and hope to her as she looked down from the window of the mysterious house in San Francisco into the eyes of her lover, the man whose happiness could not be insured without those pa pers so short space before her.
 With the thought she sprang into the room. She bounded high, clearing the ] bodies of the two men and landing squareIy against the table. Cropping, groping, her hands encountered the cold rubies She thrust them swiftly into her bodice, her left hand eontin- uing the search. Papers rustled under her fingers. An iron hand was upon her shoulder, but she wrenched herself loose and leaped back.
 Along the wall she moved until her body encountered the swaying door Even as Loubeque sprang at her she slapped the door shut. There came cry of pain and rage, the stumble of feet backward
 Lucille fed through the night. fled toward where she had seen the motor car from which Thompson had come to this place. It was chance, no odds what orders the man had been given
 What commands had he been given She stopped a second. She had been warned to wait for three hoots of the owl, and but two had been given. I'm pulse directing her. she lifted her hands to her mouth. First no sound came second time she made the at tempt. Feeble 1t was at best. but the startled silence took it up and hurled back this offender against restfulness.
 To her right came the pur of the motor From behind sounded shot She lunged toward the first sound and entered the tonneau. A dark figure leaned from the seat and drew her be : side him. Lucille clung to the man. sobbing from nervous reaction even as the car shot through the night
 The whine of a bullet sounded over head, another and yet again another She dared not look back. The papers warmed through the flesh against which they pressed, warmed through her body and to her very heart itself. But Hugo Loubeque knew the method of her departure, knew what she cdr Eied with her. And already she knew Hugo Loubeque was working to over take her.
 Low in the seat beside the driver crouehed Lucille with the precious pa pers ana rubfes in the waiting auto mobile. the butler had arranged for himself
 Suddenly she leaned forward, beat ing her little fists together, urging the Mexican chauffeur to accelerate hle speed. The man smiled down at her shaking his head to signify he did moi understand the words, even as he stepped on The clutch and shot the caI forward like a huge arrow newly re leased from the bow, and behind some where upon the same road there was another machine with determined man in it, a man who had never ye1 allowed machine or man or even the elements to thwart him.
 Then came the dull crunching sound from before her. The car swerved viciously, swung in such an abrupi circle she chung to the side of her seat | to avoid being hurled out. The driver lighted his umachine swiftly, dexter ously, and she started to heave huge sigh of relief.
 But only started to, for the front wheels suddenly slipped, seemed smoothly to be gliding upon a surface of nothingness, clawing for foothold | The chauffeur reversed heavily, fought l with his wheel, but vainIy. # Then the heavy car lost balance, tilt ed heavily and rolled down. down down.
 Lucille felt no fear. It was all too l deadly. for that. She was only con scious, even as her tiny hands clutched the edge of her seat, of a dronine l sound from behind that was growing I into the rhythmic hum of motorcar-
 Came a long period of delicious Ian guor, of sinking, much as though she doated upon ether; a harsh, crunch ing jolt and blackness-merciful uncon sciousness that closed. black shutters across the mental vision of her and brought a sweet smile to the lips that had been frightened so long. Sleep 
 Lucille pieced together happenings vaguely after that; then dismissed them as of no account. Notling ap peared to matter. She was comfort able and partially content. She recol lected for a fractional space of time being lifted and carried away by strong, friendly, plying arms. The memory passed Immediately with the coming of an impression of swift trav el in a motorcar, which, in turn, gave way to the more sharply etched i'm