Harrisburg telegraph. [volume] (Harrisburg, Pa.) 1879-1948, 1915-06-24

tige he had won in the street was
waning, that he seemed unable to
concentrate, to put the old time fire
in his work. The old Felix Lynn was
gone. lost, for this recluse was not
the brilliant, powerful young Felix
Lynn.
Wearily he closed down his desk
and rose to leave his office. There
was a stoop to his shoulders as
though some heavy burden rested
there; laggardliness to his gait that,
somehow. would have reminded one
of the appearance OF old John Hal
stead when he closed his own desk
for the last time.
He glanced warily UP and down the
narrow, hiving street as he moved
swiftly toward his motor car. 1t was
as though he had tried to identify
his terror in the crowd and, not
finding it, sought temporary refuge
in the machine. Always he was
with the quick, darting movements Of
a frightened bird. And finally with
a weary sigh of relief, he sank back
against the cushions of the car, relief
Tightening his face. His hand groped
for the speaking tube and after a
moments hesitation he directed the
chauffeur to the Halstead residence.
At the curb he leaped out lightly.
His lips moved in an exclamation OF
relief and then the haunted express
sion suddenly hurled across his face,
transfiguring It. For a limousine
slowly moved toward him, the face
at the glass causing him to shrink
away afraid. ..........
Alica looked at the man then slow
ly descended from the car and stood
before him. He opened his mouth az
though to speak but the cold, express
sionless face of this girl halted him.
Motionless she stood. Fi2edly she
stared. Stared as though at an inan-
Innate object instead of the man she
was slowly driving insane with her
torture.
He turned quickly away and, with
shrug of the shoulders moved up
to the steps, pressing the bell rap
idly, his very back indicating his
FEAR OF that silent woman on the
walk below. The butter deferentially
opened the door, his face expressing
the perfect mixture Of complacency
and Difference always to be found
upon the ideal servants countenance.
Something very like surprise crossed
MS race as he saw who waited then
ne quickly closed the door. almost
slammed 1t in the mans face.
Felix Lynn's shoulders slumped
again as he half turned. He dreaded
crossing the dead icy light In the
eyes of the woman who waited below.
For months now she had tortured
him in this fashion. For months she
had appeared always beside him,
staring. staring at him from those
accusing eyes. and never a word
never a word from those lips that
had last hissed at him the epithet-
thief" Like a haunted, hunted
beast he looked toward the gardens,
then. in some swift impulse, as his
eyes caught a glimpse of Esther
seated on a bench there, he moved
hurriedly in her direction.
She shrank away as she saw who
had caused the quick crunch of
gravel, but something on the face of
the man made her stop. He held
out his arms to her, not arms that
would embrace but arms that pleaded
for help, little comfort. and, yes.
little protection. Something huttered
within her, something she had
thought long since dead She would
have run but there was that upon
Felix Lynn's face which deferred her,
glued her feet where she stood.