The county record. [volume] (Kingstree, S.C.) 1885-1975, 1915-09-09
At theOctagon
House
1t Wasn't Burglar the Intruder
Encountered.
By CL-ARlSSA MACklE

down the rose bordercd path to the
tall stone wall that inclosed the de-
serted house next door. The own
ers were abroad, and there was no
prospect of their immediate return
to inhabit the Octagon House, as il
was called.
Rosamond had made many excur-
sions about the neglected grounds
and dreamed many dreams beneath
the noble trees that rose from the
ulkept turf. She had taken toll Of
the blooming flowers and shrubs in
their seasons, and now she fed the
gray squirrels that raced up and
down the green branches.
Her family laughed at her fond
ness for the Octagon House and
predicted a speedy abandonment
when Mrs. Phillips came home
again, for Mrs. Phillips was old and
irascible and much feared by Rosa
mond since she was little child.
But on this glorious September
day, when the late monthly roses
were bordering the path with deli
cate sweetness, Rosamond, fair,
sweet rose herself, thought little of
Mrs. Phillips in distant Berlin. The
day was made for her-for her
alone-and the Octagon House.
She followed the stone wall to an
intersecting fence which served as
a stepping stone. In trice she had
jumped lightly to the soft turf of
the other side and sped swiftly
across the dappled green toward
the house.
The crooked piazza, which fol-
lowed the outline of the old house,
was covered with Virginia creeper,
even now turning to brilliant scar
let and gold. In one corner where
the vines hung low and formed a
curtain were a long wicker chair
and pile of Rosamond's favorite
books.
She had tired of reading and was
sitting half drowsy with sleep when
a step on the piazza reused her.
Never before had any one trespass-
ed on her chosen retreat.
She parted the vines and peeped
through to discover mans tall
form bent to peer into the half
drawn shades of the long windows.
He Strengthened up again, and she
saw that his clothes were gray and
dusty and that white dust powdered
his dark hair. He was mopping his
forehead vigorously with hand
kerchief, and she noticed that his
hands were bronzed by exposure to
the sun.
That the man was a burglar
Rosamond had not doubt. Her
heart almost stopped beating when
he glanced carelessly toward her
vine covered retreat before he sat
down on the top step to light pipe.
"He's wondering how to get in"
murmured Rosamond to herself.
'1f only 1 were brave enough l
would 60 out and frighten him
away, but I am fearfully afraid of
burglars. And yet if he should
break in and steal some of Mrs.
Phillips pictures I would feel
dreadful, because I have enjoyed
her hospitality unasked." She
smiled thoughtfully and then sat
very quietly.
Presently she dropped a book on
the floor and rustled out of her re-
treat with naughty expression on
her sweet face. The stranger jump
ed to his feet and pulled off his
gray cap.
81 beg your pardon" he stam-
mered. 81 didn't know any one
was around"
Rosamond fixed him with cold
stare while she mentally decided
that he was too good looking to be
engaged in such nefarious pastime
as burglarizing unoccupied country
houses.
She lifted her pretty brows in
quiringly. @fYou wished to see some
one~
"Why-er-no. I didn't expect
to see any one here. I thought the
place was vacant" he stammered,
knocking his pipe against the rail
ing and stufing it into his pocket.
''It is not vacant. / am here" i"
said Rosamond bravely.
$50 I-er-see," with an air Of
-chagrin.
"The house is well protected"
II am glad of that" he said
heartily.
Rosamond imagined his tone was
sarcss{ic "Perhaps Won wished to