The Detroit times., 1915-09-28
CHAPTER VIZ.
The Flash Flare


Neal Hardin OF the United States
life-saving service at Seaport, \. j.
swung down the narrow lane to-
ward the beach, Before he reached
the intervening railroad tracks
train pulled ina shore train from
New York. Its last two cars blocked
Meals progress toward the beach
and he was forced to wait until the
train pulled ont again Ieantime'
while the train was stationary.
single passenger alighted--a smart
~ dressed young woman.
She stopped. once she had aiight-
ed-and glanced about her In m
certainty. She caught sight OF Neal
and started toward him.
'Tf you don't nina said the
Young woman, in dulcet tones-and
with lust the trace of foreign &C
cent in her voice-'if you do not
mind. should like to find the post
ofice-if you have one here.
Neal nodded. II go past there.
answered Neal. "rll take you to
II. Come with me-
Neal liked her-but she didn't
ring true.
This is the postoffice." &c ex.
claimed at length.
Neal passed on toward the beach.
He had not gone far when he heard
a woman's scream. He looked back.
In front OF the postoffice crumpled
heap turned out to be the pretty
woman.
OF slipped-I stumbled-some-
thing" she exclaimed, "and oh-the
pain--the pain"
"Where?" queried the postmaster
MY foot, my ankle" returned the
Young lady; "it Is bad-bad.'
She fell back. half fainting. in
Meals arms. The postmaster nod
ded to Neal
"She was going to your mothers.
Neal" he said.
MY mothers" gasped Neal, does
does she know my mother
The postmaster shook his head.
she wanted a quiet place-not
boarding house, nor nothing OF the
kinda quiet place for her and her
old father. gave her your moth
er's name. / didn't know. ! thought
maybe your mother might take 'em
In"
Neal clutched her in his strong
arms and staggered to his feet
I'm take you TO my mothers" he
said aloud; that's where you were
bound-I'm Mrs. Hardin's son."
Meals mother, Mrs. Capt. Hardin,
had spent a good part OF the last
hour in the attic OF her cosy little
house. She was delving into the
depths of an old leather trunk
and that meant that she was deiv-
ing into the past
AT the very bottom OF the trunk
where she had placed them years
ago. was newspaper package,
carefully tied up. She opened 1t
and spread It's contents on the lid
of the trunk. They consisted Of the
clothing-all the clothing-of a lit
tie girl--the dress and the linen ar
ticles had turned slightly yellow
even the IL years had left their
mark upon them.
But this was not all-there was
bag OF gold--the bag OF gold that
the little girl had brought aboard
the Princess during that day OF ter
ror back at Martinique. And pinned
10 the tiny dress was still the note
hastily penciled by an unknown
hand:
IL am Annette Ilington. heiress OF
the lost Isle OF Cinnabar will be
very rich some day. Save my
clothes and the oiIslin packet until
| am Is. must look out for man
with a saber cut upon his face. For
Gods sake, keep me safe"
She was startled by Annette's cry
from below. Hastily she slowed
away the contents OF the newspaper
package and shut and locked the
trunk.
When she reached the living room.
she started back. \ young woman.
her skirt dusty with the dirt OF
the road, was lying full length up