The Kennewick courier-reporter. [volume] (Kennewick, Wash.) 1914-1938, 1915-01-21
(Copyrtght, 1914, by harold Macorathl

Harold NacGrathl
..vn. n..e Tor at Ieast three Gays, out
always call me up by telephone some
time during the day. Never under any
circumstance, unless send for you,
come here at night. Only one man
now watches the house during the
day, but five are prowling around at
ter dark. They might have instruc-
lions to shoot you on sight. ! can't
spare you just at present, Mr.. Nor
ton. You've been a godsend; and II
it seems that sometimes l did not
trust you fully it was because ! did
not care to drag you in too deep"
Deep? Norton thought of Florence
and smiled inwardly. Could anybody
be in deeper than he was? Once It
was on the tip of his tongue to con-
fess his love for Florence, but the,
gravity of Jones' countenance was an;
obstacle to such move; it did not in,
vite 1t.
To be sure, Jones had no real au-
thority to say what Florence should or:
should not do with her heart. Still,
from all points of view, 1t was better
to keep the affair under the rose till
there came more propitious hour in
which to make the disclosure.
Love, in the midst of all these,
alarms! Sharp, desperate rogues on,
one side, millions on the other, and
yet love could enter the scene Sc
renely, like an actor who had missed.
his cue and came on too soon.
Oddly enough, there was no real
love-making such as you often read
about. A pressure of the hand, a
glance from the eye, there was seldom
anything more. Only once-that mem.
orable day on the river road-had he
kissed her. No word of love had been
spoken on either side. In that wild
moment all conventionalities had dis
appeared like smoke in the wind.
There had been neither past nor fu-
ture, only the present in which they
knew that they loved. With her he
was happy, for he had no time to plan
over the future. Away from her he
saw the inevitable barriers providing
against the marriage between a poor
young man and very rich young
woman. A man who has any respect
for himself wants always to be on
equal terms with his wife. It's the
way this peculiar organization called
society has written down its rules.
Doubtless q relic of the stone age,
when Alb went out with his club to
seek wife and drag her by the hair
to his den, there to care for her and
to guard her with his life's blood 1t
is one of the few primitive sensations
that remain to US, this wanting the fe-
male dependent upon the male. Per-
haps this accounts for mans lack of
interest on the suffragette question.
Only Susan suspected the true state
Of affairs. being woman. Having
had no real romance herself, she de-
lighted in having secondhand one.
as you might say. She intercepted
many q glance and pretended not to
see the stolen hand pressures. The
wedding was already full drawn in her
minds eye. These two young people
should be married at Susan Farlow's
when the roses were climbing up the
sides of the house and the young rob-
ms were boldly trying their fuzzy
wings. 1t struck her as rather strange,
but she could not conjure up Eat this
wedding) more than two men besides
the minister, the bridegroom, and the
butler.
BY forsaking his accustomed haunts,
under the advice of Jones, the hidden
warfare ceased temporarily. You can't
very well kill man when you don't
know where to find him. He ate his
breakfasts haphazardly, now here,
now there. He received most of his
assignments by telephone and wrote
his stories and articles in his club, in
the writing rooms of hotels, and in.
variably dispatched them to the Office
by messenger. The managing editor
wanted to know what all this meant;
but Norton declined to tell him.
It irked him to be forced to rear
range his daily life-his habits. It
was revolution against his ease, for
he loved ease when he was not at
work. He had the sensation Of having
been suddenly robbed of his home, of
having been cast out into the streets.
And on top Of all this he had to go
and fall In love!
There was no longer q shadow op-
,posite the apartments Of the Princess
!Perigoff. Braine came and went night
ly without discovering any one. This
rather worried him. It gave him the
impression that the shadow had found
out what he had been seeking and no
longer needed to watch the coming
and going Of either himself or the
Countess Perigoff.
"Olga, 1t looks as IL we were at the
end Of our rope" he said discoui edly.
1--WE have failed in all attempts so far.
The devil watches over that girl"
"Or Cod" replied the countess
gloomily. I'm nearly every instance
their success has been due to chance.
Somehow I'm convinced that we be.