Evening public ledger. [volume] (Philadelphia [Pa.]) 1914-1942, 1915-06-18

A GREAT MYSTERY STORY


The nurse put her hand. which was
large and iil-shaped but very light and
tender on his head. And 80 he went to
/ sleep.
! When he was quite settled the nurse
| went out Into the hall where Elinor was
sitting on straight chair. She had sat
there almost all Of the time since Ward
was carried up the night before.
: He Is sound asleep" she said smiling
/ W He thinks / am some one named
| Elinor,' md he calls me that AZ my
! own name ls Sarah, it's rather pleasant" !"
| Ward had been shot on Sunday night
BY the following Wednesday he was out
! OF danger.
On that same Wednesday the rector OF
| Saint Jude's brought himself and his
| rheumatism back to his parish, and saved
hts daughters reason.
! For three days Elinor had hardly slept
| or eaten. Never once had she been in
| Wards room. but always, day and night,
she was Just outside. When on that
Wednesday evening the doctor said Ward
| would live, she went down once more into
| her garden.
Many times during those three days
had Ellnor tried to pray to Wards God
and found herself voiceless and inarticu-
late. But now, out Of the depth of her
great relief, came yelling the first prayer
her phlox and larkspur.
II thank Thee" she said. II thank
Thee"
Nothing had been heard Of HUFF The
assault on the assistant rector Of Saint
Jude's had been of a line with the other
mysterious happenings around the village.
The little town was haE-rldden with fear.
Extra constabes had been sworn In and
from the Hall, during her long night
vigils, Blinor had seen many lighted win
dows where before there had been but the
one.
The problem of her future began to
obsess her. 1t was plainly impossible to
stay on here-not that she feared ex-
nosure; she was quite past fear--but the
thought Of going on with her life was
intolerable. To meet Ward, to see again
the scorn and loathlng In his eyes, more
than all, to continue to deserve them
those were the things that to Eiinor
seemed worse than death ltsei!
All the philosophy that old Hilary had
taught her failed her now. The revolt
OF the individual against laws made for
the masses-what had 1t brought her but
isolation and grief7 OF what use was
revolt7 All must go through the mills
OF the gods. She knew that now. There
were no exceptions. And something else
she had learned: that II one Is to live
through great crises one must have
had felt 1t vaguely at the time OF her
fathers death. Sitting outside Wards
| door she had known It. Every breath had
been prayer to something, she knew
not what, to save him.
II thank Thee" she said again.
Tho phlox and larkspur quivered about
her as If under the touch of a gentle
| hand.
Boroday had been free for three days
but beyond telephone message announc-
ing his release she had heard nothing Of
him, Over the wire nc had advised ex-
treme caution. She Judged from that
| that things were not going we'll
She knew that Huff's reckless crime
would demand a scapegoat. There were
bound to be arrests. All this Elinor
knew quite we'll 1t was In such an at
mosphere that she had drawn her earliest
bTeaths-the play of cunning against cum
ming, wit against wit.
She did not send for Boroday She
dared not, But because the intimacy be-
tween her and the middle-aged Russian
had always been very close, he seemed to
feel her need. And so, on that Wednes-
| he came.
Old Henrlette came down and tapped
| softly at Ellnor's door.
"Boroday," she whispered. HE has
rung from the arbor."
That was one of old Hllary's devices:
a hidden wire from the arbor to the
house. IT prevented collisions. Unless
otherwise summoned. no member of his
band ever came directly to the house
Elinor went out and found him there.