The Redwood gazette. [volume] (Redwood Falls, Minn.) 1873-1940, 1915-02-17
1914. by Louis JOSEPH Vance
Continued from last weekly topped on the De

mon sense by making round break
fast in Grand Central station before
looking up the residence of Digby In
the telephone directory.
The information he gathered from
the voice that answered the name OF
Mr.. Digby over the telephone shook
only momentarily Barcus' innate con-
yiction that intimate acquaintance
with battle, murder and sudden death
was the inevitable reward of associa-
ton with this friend of his heart.
"Alan being married to Rose Urine
in Jersey City at this very minute!"
he breathed skeptically as he emerged
from the booth memorizing the ad-
dress of the alleged officiating clergy
man. Il don't believe it; it's too sud-
dem
Forthwith he engaged a taxicab to
| convey him to Jersey City, at top
speed, for an eXorbitant reward.
And when, from the forward deck Of
a ferryboat, he beheld dense volume
of smoke advertising a confiagration
On the Jersey shore, not far from the
AC SACCh q AdSOoiiy So-
gacious head.
IF Alan isn't mixed up in that,
| somehow" he declared hes missing
! bet for once-and I'm sorry failure
as prophet of woe and disaster!"
| There was as much intuitive appre-
| hension as humor responsible for this
remark; witness the fact that, on land
! ing, he risked the delay required to
turn aside and have look at the fire.
1t rrcved to be situated in the heart
Of squalid slum-a wretched tene-
ment of the poorest class, whose roof
had already fallen in and whose walls
were momentarily threatening to go
| by the time Barcus arrived on the
scene
At a considerable distance from him
small disturbance had broken out
clamor of protesting voices lifting
about the rumor of the mob-as a
number of men, case-hardened rOughs
one and all, began to force their way
In a V-shaped wedge through the
throng, making toward it's very heart,
| the point on the fir5-lines nearest the
burning building.
What this meant, Mr.. BarcuS had
not the slightest idea. But his atten-
| ton was first distracted by the maneu-
yer, then fixed by the face of man
who was following in the hollow of
the Van evil white face that seemed
| somewhat vaguely familiar, somehow
( reminiscent of something strange that
had happened in the history of Mr.
| Barcus.
At the same time, at the point where
the V had paused, wild uproar lifted
up and, coincidentally, wilder confu-
sion became noticeable. A cry was
audible-"Firebug! Lynch him! Lynch
him. Lynch the frebug! gland at
this the mob turned as one man and
streamed away in pursuit of an in
visible quarry, who chose to attempt
his escape by a route directly oppo-
site to that which would have led him
within view of Mr. Barcus.
| Startled, and of sudden persuaded
that there might have been more in
his bunch" than was sanely to be
credited, Barcus started up and was
on the point of stepping out of his
cab, if with rather aimless purpose,
when he was stayed by sight of that
evil white face returning the way it
had come-still in the hollow of the
flying V, which now made faster prog
ress, thanks to the disorganization of
the mob by the chase of the alleged in
cendiary.
And now, Barcus saw the man of
the white face was not alone There
was someone with him-someone
whose head was bent and face con-
cealed. but who seemed to be femi-
nine.
And SO, Barcus argued, why might
1t not be Rose Urine, suffering new
persecution at the hands of her unnat-
ural fathers creatures?
He was too far away to make sure
and attempt any interference; but he
pointed White Face out to his chauf-
feur as the v reached a touring car
on the edge of the mob and the woman
was lifted in (unresisting and appar-
emily in dead faint, and when the
touring car swung round and picked
lup it's heels, the taxicab of Mr.. Barcus
trailed it as unostentatiously as if it.
was pertinacious shadow.
Ten minutes later, from the rear
deck of ferryboat in midstream-a
boat bearing back to New York not
only the touring car of White Face,
but the cab of Mr.. Barcus-the latter
gentleman formed one of small but
interested audience witnessing an in
cident of uncommon character.
He saw a young man, hatless, coat
less, almost shirtless, tear down to
the edge of one of the Jersey wharves,
his heels snapped at by a ravening
rabble, jump aboard square-rigged
vessel which lay moored there, and
execute a maneuver of despair by
climbing up the rigging in a hopeless
attempt to escape his prosecutors.
They were too many for him, and what
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