The Parma herald. (Parma, Idaho) 1903-1917, 1914-07-09
CHATTER Iv-contInu.d.


CHAPTER iv-ContInucd.
There's the dusky princess peek
ing out again. The truth is, Abby, u
could hide myself for three or foul
years. long enough for people to for
get me, might reconsider. But Il
should be under another name. They
envy us millionaires. Why, we are
the lonesomest buffers going We dis
trust every one; we fly when WON
an approaches; we become mono
maniacs; one thing obsesses US, every
body is after our money. We want
friends, we want wives, but we wan;
them to be attracted to us and not to
our money-bags. Oh. pshawl What
plans have you made in regard to the
search?"
Gloom settled upon the artists face.
I've got to find out what's happened
to her. Ted This isn't any play. Why,
she loves the part of Marguerite as
she loves nothing else. She's been
kidnapped, and only God knows for
what reason. 1t has knocked me silly.
just came up from Como, where she
spends the summers aow. / was going
to take her and Fournier out to din.
ner."
Who's Fournier?"
"Mademoiselle Fourier, the com
poser She goes with Nora on the
yearly concert tours"
"Pretty?"
Charming"
Il see." thoughtfully. What part
of the lake; the villa d'Este. Cadenab-
bia?"
"Bellaggio. oh, 1t was ripping last
summer. She's always singing when
she's happy. When she sings out on
the terrace. suddenly, without giving
anyone warning. her voice is wonder
full. No audience ever heard anything
like it,"
i heard her Friday night. dropped
In at the opera without knowing what
they were singing. l admit all you
say in regard to her voice and looks;
but stick to the whim."
But you can't fake that chap with
the blond mustache," retorted Abbott
grimly. Lord. wish | had run into
you any day but today I'm all in.
can telephone to the Opera from the
studio, and then we shall know for a
certainty whether or not she will re-
turn for the performance tonight. II
not. then I'm going in for little de-
tective work"
ABBY. 1t will turn out to be the
sheep OF Little Bo-Peep."
Have your own way about it."
When they arrived at the studio Alb
bott telephoned promptly. Nothing
had been heard. They were substi-
tuting another singer.
Call up the Herald" suggested
Courtlandt.
Abbott did so. And he had to an
swer innumerable questions, questions
which worked him into fine rage;
who was he. where did he live. what
did he know. how long had he been in
Paris, and could he prove that he had
arrived that morning? Abbott wanted
to fling the receiver into the mouth of
the transmitter but his patience was
presently rewarded. The singer had
not yet been found. but the chauffeur
of the mysterious car had turned up
in hospital, and perhaps by
night they would know everything.
The chauffeur had had a bad accident;
the car itself was a total wreck, In
ditch, not far from Versailles.
"Therel" cried Abbott. slamming
the receiver on the hook. what do
you say to that?"
The chauffeur may have left her
somewhere, got drunk afterward, and
into the ditch. Things have
happened like that. Abby, don't make
camels hair shirt out OF your paint
brushes. What pother about a sing
er' II it had been a great inventor. a
poet. an artist. there would have been
nothing more than a two-line para
graph. But an opera singer. one who
us during our idle eve
nlngs-ha' that's different matter.
Set instantly that great municipal ma
chinery called the police In action:
sell extra editions on the streets
What adoI"
What the devil makes you SO bit.
teri"
Was bitter? thought I was
philosophizing." Courtlandt consulted
his watch Half after four. Come
over to the Maurice and dine with me
tomorrow night. that is. II you do not
md your prima donna I've an en-
sagement at five-thirty. and must be
on "
i was about to ask you to dine with
me tonight" dlsappointedIy.
Cant; swfully sorry. Abby. II was
only luck that met you in the Luz.
emoourg- BE over about seven. /
was very glad to see you again"
Abbott kicked broken easel into
corner. All right. II anything
he Grand7"
Yes Bv-bv