The Miller press. [volume] (Miller, S.D.) 190?-current, 1915-02-18

ali JOueS, tHe JULIET IL dli uepSluo
upon how the letter gets to her. Bred
In the country, she probably sleeps
with her window open. A pebble at.
tached to a note, tossed into the win.
dow. I'll trust this to no one; I'll
do 1t myself. With the girl in our
control the rest will be easy. IL she
really does not know where the money
Is Hargreave will tell US. Great head,
little woman, great head. She does
not know her fathers handwriting?'
"She has never seen a scrap of 1t.
All that Miss Farlow eve received
was money. The original note left on
the doorstep with Florence has been
lost. Trust me 20 make all these in.
quiries."
Tomorrow night, then, immedi.
ately after dinner, a taxicab will
await her just around the corner
Grange is the best man | can think
OF. He's ar artist when 1t comes to
playing the Oldham parts"
mot too old, remember. Har.
greave isn't over forty-ive."
Another good point. I'm going to
stretch out here on the divan and
snooze for a while. Had a devil of a
time last night"
when shall | wake your"
"At six. Wen have an early dinner
sent in. / want to keep III of every.
body's way. By-by!"
In less than three minutes he was
sound asleep. The woman gazed down
at him in wonder and envy. II only
she could drop to sleep like that. Very
softly she pressed her lips to his hair.
At eleven o'clock the following
night the hall light in the Hargreave
house was turned off and the whole
interior became dark. A shadow
crept through the lilac bushes with
out any more sound that a cat would
have made. Florence's window was
open, as the arch-conspirator had ex-
pected it would be. With a small
string and stone as a sling he sent
the letter whirling skillfully through
the air. 1t sailed into the girls room.
The man below heard no sound of the
stone hitting anything and concluded
that IL had struck the bed.
He waited patiently. Presently a
wavering light could be distinguished
over the sill OF the window. The girl
was awake and had lit the candle.
This knowledge was sufficient for his
need. The tragic letter would do the
rnGt that Ia IL tho oipl pop,n epD,,
the same pattern as her father and
mother-strong willed and adventu-
u
He tiptoed back to the lilacs, when
a noise sent him close to the ground.
Half a dozen feet away he saw a
shadow creeping along toward the
front door. Presently the shadow
stood up as II listening. He stopped
again and ran lightly to the steps, up
these to the door. which he Rugged.
Who was this? wondered Braine.
Patiently he waited. arranging his pos
ture so that he could keep a lookout
at the door. BY and by the door
opened cautiously. A man holding
a. CdHuio appChitu. Didiho dSuely
recognized Olga's description of the
butler. The man on the veranda sud
denly blew out the light.
Braine could hear the low murmur
of voices, but nothing more. The CON
versation lasted scarcely a minute.
The door closed and the man ran
down the steps, across the lawn, with
Braine close at his heels.
'Just a moment. Mr.. Hargreave,'
he called ironically; Just a moment
The man he addressed as Hargreave
turned with lightning rapidity and
struck. The blow caught Braine
above the ear. knocking him fiat.
When he regained his feet the rumble
story.
BY the dim light OF her bedroom
candle Florence read the note which
had found entrance SO strangely and
mysteriously into her room. Her ia
Their! He lived. he needed her! Alive
but in dread peril, and only she could
saw him! She longed to fly to him
at once. then and there. How could
she wait TIL tomorrow night at eight!
Immediately she began to plan how to
circumvent the watchful Jones and
the careful Susan. Her fatherl She
slept no more that night.
MY Darling Daughter: I must see
you. Come at eight o'clock tomorrow
night to IS Grove street. third floor.
Conide in NO one. or you seal my
death warrant.
"Your unhappy FATHER"
What child would refuse to obey q
summons like this?
A light tap on the door started her.
rs anything the matter?" asked
the mild voice of Jones.
mo. I got up to get q drink Of
water"
She heard his footsteps die away
down the corridor. She thrust the
letter into the pocket of her dress.
which lay neatly folded on the chair
at the foot Of the bed. then climbed
back into the bed itself. She must
not tell even Mr.. Norton.
vuy-- 49, Ana --a--s-- -----~