Fulton County tribune. (Wauseon, Ohio) 1883-1925, 1914-11-13

Florence,s companion
Gladly"
What is my fathers name?"
"Hargreave, Stanley Hargreave."
The girls eyes widened in terror.
Suddenly she burst into a wild frenzy
OF sobbing, her head against the shout
der of her erstwhile teacher.
Jones appeared visibly shocked.
What is it?'
I'VE read the story in the newspa-
per-" said the elder her own
ey7s filling with tears. THE poor
child! To have all her castles-in-air
tumble down like this! But what au-
thority have you to engage me?" SEN
sibly.
Jones produced a document, duly
signed by Hargreave. and witnessed
and sealed by a notary, in which il
was set forth that Henry Jones, but.
Ter and valet to Stanley Hargreave,
had full powers of attorney in the
event of his (Hargreave's) disappear
ance; in the event of his death, till
Florence became of legas age.
Said Jones as he put the document
back in his pocket: What is your
name?"
Susan Wane."
DO O love this child?"
with all my heart, the poor un.
happy babel"
Thank you,"
Inside the home he conducted them
through the various rooms, at the
same time telling them what had ia.
ken place during the preceding night.
They have not found his body?''
asked Florence. MY poor, poor faith.
err"
NO"
Then he may be alive!"
please God that he may" said the
butler, with genuine piety, for he had
loved the man who had gone forth in
to the night so bravely and SO strange
ly. This is your room. Your father
spent many happy hours here prepar-
ing it for you"
Tears came into the girls eyes
again, and discreetly Jones left the
two alone.
what shall l do. Susan? Whatever
shall / do?"
will never leave you till you find your
father"
Florence kissed her fervently.
What is your opinion of the butler?'
Il think we may both trust him alb
solutely.'
Then Florence began exploring the
house. Susan followed her closely
Florence peered behind the mirrors
the pictures, in the drawers of the
desk, in the bookcases.
What are you hunting for, child?'
"a photograph Of father But she
found none. More, there were no pho
tographs of any kind to be found in
Stanley Hargreave's home.
When Norton awoke, he naturally
went to the door for the morning pa
pers which were always placed in "a
neat pile before the sill. He yawned
gathered up the bundle, was about Il
climb back into bed. when a head
line caught his dull eyes. Twenty-on
minutes later, to be precise, he ran
up the steps of the Hargreave home
and rang the bell. He was admitted
by the. taciturn Jones, to whom the
reporter had never paid any particu
lar attention. Somehow Jones always
managed to stand in shadows.
Il can add nothing to what has al
ready appeared in the newspapers,
replied Jones, as Norton opened his
batteries of inquiries.
Mr.. Jones, l have known your mas
ter Several years, as you will recollect
There was a woman in thi:
house, not even among the servants
There are two in the other room
Who are they? And what are the,
doing here?"
Jones shook his head.
We'll, l Ear easily find out"
Jones barred his path, and for thu
first time Norton gazed into the eye
of the man servant They were al
hard as gun metal.
My dear Mr.. Jones, you ought t.
know that sooner or later we report
ers find out what we seek"
Jones appeared to reflect. Mr.. MOI
ton, you claim to be a friend of MI
Hargreave?"
Il do 0 claim. / am. More thai
that l do not believe he is dead. H
was deep. He had some relentless en-
emies-I don't know where from o
what kind-and he is pretending he
dead till this blows over and is fol
gotten Z
You are not going to say that il
your newspaper" Jones was visibl
agitated.
Not If | can prove It,"
IF l tell you who those young La
dies are, will you give me your wor
of honor not to write about them ii
l give my permission
: Norton, having in mind the bi
, story at the end Of this mystery tar
gle, agreed.
The elder is a teacher from q Or
vate school; the other is Stanley Hai
? greave's daughter"
Good Lord" gasped the astonishe
| reporter. HE never mentioned tn
. fact to me- and we've been togethe
! in some tight places"
He eve mentioned it to any on
but me-" Jones again seemed to r.
D feet. At last he raised his glance /
t the reporter. Are you willing to wa
(: for a great story, the real story?"
: she no longer sang softly at her wor
as once, and he reflected: "A fe,