Cut Bank pioneer press. [volume] (Cut Bank, Mont.) 1909-current, 1914-09-11

Ihere was nOtnlnS unuSual In tnlS,
messengers came at all hours, and sell
dom the same one twice; so the con-
cierge's suspicious had not been
aroused. Another item. A tall hand
some Italian had called at eleven
o'clock Saturday morning, but the sig
norma had sen down word that she
could not see him. The maid recalled
that her mistress had intended to dine
that night with the Italian gentleman.
His name she did not know, having
been with the signorina but two weeks.
Celeste Fournier, the celebrated
young pianist and composer, who
shared the apartment with the miss
ing prima donna, stated that she
hadn't the slightest idea where her
friend was. She was certain that mis-
fortune had overtaken her in some In
applicable manner To implicate the
Italian was out of the question. He
was wellknown to them both. He had
arrived again at seven, Saturday, and
was very much surprised that the sig
norma had not yet returned. He had
waited till nine, when he left, greatly
disappointed. He was the Barone di
Monte-Verdi in Calabria, formerly
military attache at the Italian embassy
in Berlin. Sunday noon Mademoiselle
Fourier had notified the authorities.
She did not know, but she felt sure
that the blond stranger knew more
than anyone else. And here was the
end of things. The police found them
selves at a %standstill. They searched
the hotels but without success; the
blond stranger could not be found.
Abbott's eyes were not happy and
pleasant just now. They were dull
and blank with the reaction Of the
stunning blow. He, too, was certain
of the Barone, Much as he secretly
hated the Italian, he knew him to be a
fearless and an honorable man. But
who could this blond stranger be who
appeared so s~inisterly in the two
scenes? From where had he come?
Why had Nora refused to explain
about the pistol-shot? ANY woman
had a perfect right to shoot a man
who forced his way into her apart
ment. Was he one of those mad fools
who had fallen in love with her, and
had become desperate? Or was it
some one she knew and against whom
she did not wish to bring any charges?
Abducted! And she might be, at this
very moment, suffering all sorts Of in
dignities. 1t was horrible to be so
helpless.
The sparkle of the sunlight upon the
ferrule of a cane, extending over his
shoulder, broke in on his agonizing
thoughts. He turned, an angry word
on the tip of his tongue. He expected
to see some tourist who wanted to be
informed.
Tied Courtlandt!" He jumped up,
overturning the stool. "And where the
dickens did you come from? l thought
you were in the Orient?"
"Just got back, Abby"
The two shook hands and eyed each
other with the a%ppraising scrutiny Of
friends of long standing.
"You don't change any" said Alb
bolt.
Nor do you. I've been standing
behind you fully two minutes. Whar
were you glooming about? Old Silenus
offend you?"
Have you read the Herald this
morning?"
81 never read it nowadays. The,
are always giving me a roast of som,
kind. Whatever I do they are bount
to misconstrue it." C%ourtlandt stoopet
and righted the stool, but sat down O
the grass, his feet in the path. What
the trouble? Have they been afte
you?"
Abbott rescued the offending pape
and shaking it under his friends nose
said: Read that"
: Courtlandt's eyes widened consider
ably as they absorbed the signifcanc
, of the heading-"Eleonora da Toscan
missing"
! BAH" he exclaimed.
, "You say bah?"
, "It looks like one of their adverti
2 ing lodges. l know something abor
singers" Courtlandt added. "T Ell
gineered a musical comedy once"
d you do not know anything abol
9 her." cried Abbott holly.
t That's true enough" Courtlan,
finished the article, folded the pap,
n and returned it, and began digging
q the path with his cane.
a But what l want to know is, wi
II the devil Is this mysterious bloI
stranger?" Abbott f1ourished the 2
per again. 81 tell you, it's no adve
Using dodge. She's been abducte
The blond!"
h Courtlandt ceased boring into Il
lg earth. "The story says that she
;. fused to explain this blond chat
presence in her room. What do y
he make of that?"
he Perhaps you think the fellow W
IT, her press agent?" was the retort.
IS Lord, no! But it proves that s
ely knew him, that she did moi want t
re police to find him. At least, not
is that moment. Who's the Italian ?" s,
nut denly.
in 81 can vouch for him. He is a &,
Hannah honorable DC tho dor, G., II,