Gunnison news-champion., 1915-03-12
CHAPTER a.
Thr sian Of the Three.


Oat-of-doors. kiEh brazen noon, a
day IN snring the clamorous life OF
New York running a. fluent as quick
silver through its brilliant streets.
N1thin-doors. neither sound nor sun
beam disturbed a perennial quiet that
was yet not peace
The room was like a wide. deep
well OF night. the haunt Of teemiRg
shadows and sinister silences.
Little. indeed. was visible beyond
the lonely shape that brOoded over
A. the fgure Of an old man notion
less IN great. leather bound chair.
His hair was as white as his heart
was black. The rack of his bones.
clothed in a thick black dressing
gown with waist-cord of crimson silk,
from the thighs down was covered by
black woollen rug He stared un-
blinkingly at nothing: a man seven
eighths dead. completely psralyzed
but for his head and his left arm.
Presently q faint clicking signal die
turbed the stiffness. Seneca Trine put
forth his left hand and touched one
Of q row of crimson buttons embedded
in the desk. Something else clicked
this time a latch. There was the
faintest possible noise Of Q closing
door. and a smallish man stole noise
lessly into the light. paused beside the
desk and waited respectfully for leave
to speak.
"Well9"
"A telegram, sir-from England"
Give It mel"
The old man seized the sheet Of vel
low paper. scsnned n hungrily, and
crushed II In his tremulous CLAW with
. gesture u uncomfortable emotion.
Send my daughter judith here,"
Two minutes later . young woman
b street dress was admitted 10 tAe
chamber Of shadows.
You sent for ne, fathsrr
Sit Aovn."
0hs found and placed Q chair ct the
desk. and obediently settled hsrsslf
IN II.
"Judith-tell me-what cay is thisf
my birthday. an twenty-ons"
And your sisters birthday: Rose.
too. is twenty-one"
Yes"
you could have forgotten that" /" the
old man pursued almost mockingly.
DO you really dislike your tx'in Sister
% intenselys"
The girls voice trembled. You
know" she said. I'VE have nothing in
common-beyond parentage and this
abominable resemblance. Our natures
differ as light from darkness"
And which would you say was
lightr
Hardly my own: I'm no hypocrite
Rose is everything that they tell me
my mother was, while THE girl
smiled strangely-'1 think am more
your daughter than my mothers"
A nod Of the white head confirmed
the suggestion. TT IL true. have
watched you closely, Judith, perhaps
more closely than even you knew.
Before l was brought to this"-the
wasted hand made . significant ees-
ture-'I was q man OF strong pas
u.
rather feared me. And Rose is the
mirror of her mothers nature, gentle,
unselflsh, sympathetic. But you, Ju-
dith. you are like a second self to
me-"
An accent OF profound satisfaction
Informed his voice The girl waited
in a silence that was tensely expect
ant
Then, If on this your birthday I
were TO ask a service Of you that
might iniuriouslv affect the happiness
OF your sister,"
The girl laughed briehyi "only
ask it,"
And how far would you 20 to do
my wIll?"
Where would you stop in the serv.
ice Of one you lovpdp"
Seneca Urine nodded graveIv. And
after a brief pause. Rose is in love %
he announced.
oh I know knowt" the father
sGrmcd with a faint ring Of satisFsc.
ton. 7 am old. a cripple. prisoner OF
this living tomb; but all things
should know-somehow-1 come "a
know in course OF time!"
It's true-that Englishman she
scraped an acquaintance with on thu
Riviera last year-whst's his nane7-
Law. Alan Law"
In the main" the father correct.d
mildly, you are right. Only. he. not
English His father was Wellington
La~, OF Law & Son
She knew better than to Interrupt
but her seeming patience vas beli.d
BY the whitening knuckle. Of q hama
that lay within the little pool o. blood
red light
And presently the deep voice roIIs<
sn: Law and l sere oocs cris,ls;