Ottumwa tri-weekly courier. [volume] (Ottumwa, Iowa) 1903-1916, 1914-09-19

and he decided to act upon 1t, though
Molly, thinking for whom she intended
the sloop, had tried to put him off, He
had spent the morning with them, had
met Hancock and James and the con.
stable in the character OF Todd, had
been so introduced to them all, ex-
planning his little masquerade as Pat.
terson on the grounds of a joke.
you have known him as Joseph
Holmes?" asked the constable.
Yes" said the girl helplessly.
'He came to town about three weeks
ago. did he not?"
"Yes, I think that Is about right"
From New York;
He said So"
Algernon stepped forward. This Is
foolish" said he. II am Todd. Alger-
non Van Rensselaer, Todd. Jimmy. old
sport" turning to him. "you know me-
Tell them, old chap, that I'm Todd
Todd" said James Mortimer Worth,
coldly, gazing languidly across the
lawn, todd Is stranger to me, prac-
, tically. met gentleman by that
, name this morning, but really know
! nothing about him or his family
Todd has been around all the morn
ing sneered the constable. 1--WE WIS.,
tied with him spell before you came"
"Todd?" questioned Algernon, turn
J ing to Molly.
! The girl nodded her eyes full of
conlrassion. Patterson was really
Todd, Joe,' she explained "You never
guessed it, but have known since that
lawn party I gave. He was anxious to
| get on to Canada and asked me to say
nothing about his identity to any one.
That is why he hung around the place
so and couldn't send him away as you
told me to-"
Molly" He caught her hands again
ioyously. You thought that man was
Todd?"
"Why, yes, Joe. have known he
was for long time"
"rhen you couldn't have sent that
despatch?"
NO" said she simply, II didn't"
Sir" interrupted the constable, Il
have some papers here"
Algernon turned impatiently. But
tell you am not Holmes. That man
Patterson is Holmes. Jimmy, old boy,
don't go back on me- You know it is
as say. Tell them so, won't you?"
Really" said James, Il know moth
ing about it. You were introduced to
me as Holmes"
Algernon, thinking desperately. turn
ed and glanced across the old box
bordered garden. simmering in the
morning sunshine. The asters were all
in bloom and down by the old brick
wall under the mulberry tree, state
ly row of late hollyhocks nodded grace
fully to the onslaughts of the bees.
The honeysuckle still clambered over
the summer house in the corner and
nasturtiums rioted in profusion around
the old crumbling sun-dial. Beyond the
garden was sweep of lawn and be-
yond that the woods, and over all was
the brooding peace and quiet of the
country.
He realized with sickening convic
ton how helpless he was to free him.
self until his mother came or he could
telegraph again to his lawyers, If they
would let him. 1t was his word against
Molly's and James, He was stamped
already as a forger, Molly was Mrs:
Todd, the big person of the town. and
James Mortimer Worth was a gentle
man equally wealthy and above re-
proach. What object would either OF
them have to swear that he was
Holmes if he were not? None at all.
Here he was caught, trapped, absolute
ly helpless to be shut up for the time
until he could get help or be taken to
New York as criminal In the hands
of the law. The idea was infuriating,
intolerable. And yet how could he
prove his identity even to Molly, who
would gladly have helped him? All
the time they had been together, he
had consistently swindled himself.
He glanced in desperation from the
constable to Molly. The girl was lean.
ing against the stone post Of the balus-
trade, head thrown up, nervous fingers
clasped tightly before her. The at
titude recalled to Algernon night in
early summer, girl in white dress
leaning thus against high sundial,
head thrown back, hands clasped be.
fore her. and he himself beside her,
whispering foolish verses from behind
a storm cloud. He stepped forward
and bent low to whisper that none
might hear.
with hair as black as the devils
heart,
And eyes of blue, true blue,
In whose darkling depths lose my
soul
Whenever l come to. WOO;
with skin as white as virgins
thoughts,
And lips like scarlet bow,
For whose storehouse Of honeyed
sweetness
Mine own are longing So"
His voice was soft and gentle, fall.
ing with tender cadence, and the lis
tening girl recalled rose garden on
moonlit night in June. The air was
heavy with the scent of roses, and
above the tree-tops the arch of the
young. moon was sinking in sea of
silver light
"Algernon Todd?" she whispered
fearfully, with never a doubt now of
his identity. The tones in which he
spoke were the same as those of that
moonlit night in June, and the verses
we're Of his own composing, known on
ly to himself and her,
when I want to find a way, I do,