Ottumwa tri-weekly courier. [volume] (Ottumwa, Iowa) 1903-1916, 1914-03-14
Earl Derr. biq8er3

accompanied Mr.. Bland to suite ten,
across the hall. He explained the mat.
ter of stale air." and assisted In the
opening of windows. The converse
ton was mostly facetious, and Mr..
BANDS last remark concerned the
fiickless Of woman. With brisk good
night, Mr.. Magee returned to number
seven.
But he made no move toward the
chilly brass bed in the inner room.
Instead he sat long time by the fire.
He reflected on the events Of his first
few hours in that supposedly unin-
habited solitude where he was to be
alone with his thoughts. He pondered
the way and manner Of the hippant
young man who posed as a lOvelorn
haberdasher, and under whose flip
pancy there was certainly an air of
hostility. Who was Andy Rutter, down
in Reuton? What did the young man
mean when he asked If he should
"close up shop" Who was the che"
from whom came the orders? and
most important Of all, what was in the
package now resting in the great safe?
Mr.. Magee smiled. Was this the
stuff of which solitude was made? He
recalled the ludicrous literary tale he
had invented to balance the moving
fiction of Arabellr, and his smile grew
broader. His imagination, at least,
was in healthy state. He looked at
his watch A quarter of twelve.
Probably they were having supper at
the Plaza now, and Helen Faulkner
was listening to. the banalities of young
To- hfo
think of Miss Faulkner. He thought
of her for ten seconds; then stepped to
the window.
The moon had risen, and the snowy
roofs of Upper Asquewan Falls spark
led in the lime-light Of the heavens.
Under one of those roofs was the girl
of the station-weeping no more, he
hoped Certainly she had eyes that
held even the least susceptibility
which class Mr. Magee prided himself
he belonged He wished he might see
her again; might talk to her without
Interruption from that impossible
mamma"
Mr.. Magee turned back into the
room. His fire was but red glowing
ashes He threw off his dressing
gown, and began to unlace his shoes.
There has been too much crude
melodrama in my novels he reflected.
Its so easy to write. But Pm going
to get away from all that up here.
I'm going" M. rs.s,., ~, t,. r.,
Mr., Magee paused, with one shoe
poised in his hand. For from below
came the sharp crack of pistol, fol-
lowed by the crash of breaking glass.
CHAPTER III.
Blondes and Suffragettes.
Mr.. Magee selipped into his dress
ing-gown. seized candle, and like the
boy in the nursery rhyme with one
shoe off and one shoe on, ran into the
hall. All was silent and dark below.
He descended to the landing, and
stood there, holding the candle high
above his head It threw dim light
as far as the bottom of the stairs, but
quickly lost the battle with the shad'
ows that lay beyond.
Hello" the voice Of Bland, the
haberdasher, came out of the black
ness 1.-THE Goddess Of Liberty, as l
live! What's your next imitation
There seems to be something do
ing" said Mr.. Magee.
Mr.. Bland came into the light, par
TALLY disrobed, his revolver in his
hand
Somebody trying to get in by the
front door," he explained. 81 shot at
him to scare him away. Probably one
of your novelists." @
cor Arabella," remarked Mr.. Magee,
coming down. eL.n
"No,' answered Bland 81 distinctly
saw derby hat"
With Mr.. Magee descending the yell
low candle-light, and brushing aside
the shadows Of the hotel Office. 1t
revealed mattress lying on the floor
close to the clerks desk, behind which
stood the safe. On the mattress was
the bedding Magee had presented to
the haberdasher, hastily thrown back
by the love1orn one on rising.
"You prefer to sleep down here,
Mr.. Magee commented.
"Near the letters Of Arabella--yes."
replied Bland. His keen eyes met Ma
gees. There was a challenge in them.
Mr.. Magee turned and the yellow
light of the candle flickered wanly
over the great front door. Even as he
looked at it, the door was pushed
omen and queer figure Of man
stood trdrneu against d DdCh6i ouhu VI
glittering snow Mr.. BANDS arm
flew up.
Don't shoot cried Magee.
"No. please don't" urged the man in
the doorway. A beard, pair OF round
owlish spectacles. and two ridiculous
ear-muffs. left only suggestion OF
face here and there. He closed the
door and stepped into the room. Il
have every right here, I assure you.
even though my arrival. Is somewhat
unconventional. See-I have the key
He held up large brass key that was
the counterpart of the one Hal Bent
lev had bestowed upon Mr.. Magee in
that club on far-off Forty-fourth street.
"Keys to burn muttered Mr.. Bland
sourly.
81 bear no i'll will with regard to
the shooting" went on the newcomer.
He took off his derby hat and ruefully
regarded a hole through the crown.
His bald head seemed singularly frank
and naked above face of so many
DISCUSSES. ut is only natural that men
alone on a mountain should defend
themselves from invaders at two in the