The Tabor independent. [volume] (Tabor, S.D.) 1913-19??, 1915-07-08

UNI Il M

have TO cram. You're Just plain dis
agreeable, that's all. She has been SO
nice to me about Miss Sinnox's-and
about everything else, too. Why are
you no mean to herr"
II must go up to say goodbye to
denly.
And what's worse, / don't under
stand you. We used to go u on stone
Wall every day or two. They were
jolly times for me. But now-why, now
you won't go near the lee old place
with me. You get any farther
than Uncle Jabe's, and I'm tired Of
feeding the squirrels, IL you must know
II. We must get over being children
some time, Eric. We can't always feed
squirrels and listen to ghost stories.
Now, you're going away next week, and
I shan't see you till Christmas time.
Won't you Just try to be nice and
agreeable for awhile? Be nice to Joan,
for my sake" \
To her establishment, he turned
abruptly and almost ran away from
through his drawn lips after his back
was turned, and she saw the convul-
sive movement Of his shoulders. Then
she cried out in wonder and dismay,
her dear little heart instantly filled
with love and pity. but he did not turn
back. Her warm, adorable face went
very pale and the tears sprang to the
lovely yes
The long expected letter from Adam
Carr came that same afternoon. Great
~ agttated, Eric r~efrained from open
ing 1t at the house, or in the presence
OF others. but hurried off to the seclu-
sion Of the woods above the town.
Here he had spent many hours during
the past few weeks, alone with his med
itations. The broad green meadows
stretched out below the borders of the
forest, sinking gently toward the rock
girt coast to the north Of Todville on
h Point. Here at the edge Of the
woodland the shade was most inviting
on the hot summer days, cooled by the
breezes from the sea-, and moist with
h breath of ferns and the MOSES.
The blazing sun Of midday never pen
etrated this sheltered area, nor were
its rays intense enough to shrivel the
bright green grass that carpeted the
sunken meadows.
his strange adviser and accomplice.
Adam wrote from New Orleans, where
he had gone, he said, In connection
with a matter quite foreign to the Blag-
den affair. He was writing, however,
to the president OF the bank to inform
him that the defaulter had sailed for
O port at present unknown e him, but
49, 80 NNNAN NCAAs AO "o6 -
grim, relentless humor in his reference
to Chetwynd's whereabouts. OF course
(he went on), Eric had kept himself
informed as to the earlier features Of
h investigation and the chase. He
must have seen in the newspapers that
Bunnie De Winnie quite readily salts
fled the authorities, as well as himself,
that she knew absolutely nothing OF
young Blagden. She was particularly
eager to have It known that she had
not been keen abou him" at any
time. Indeed, she averred, In a Ian
guage Of her own, Chetwynd made her
tired n she had chucked him weeks
before the smashup. She admitted that
he had spent q neat bit of money on
her, but hat II wasn't a marker to
what other girls were getting. In fact,
II really wasn't much more than pin
money, as the wind was blowing In 9TH
er quarters. Miss De Winnie, with an
asperity that did not go very well with
her scornful attitude, gave 1t as her
belief that Chetwynd had taken up
with a girl named Blanche Something
or other, she couldn't recall her last
name, which wasn't her own anyway.
Adam went on to say that he had
made II q point to ferret out Miss
Blanche Something or other. He found
show, making Philadelphia and Boston
as side steps from Broadway. Her cor
tract, II seems, stipulated that she was
to 60 10 farther away from New York
than these two cities. and she was to
play in no one-night stands. She had
money. 1t was not difficult for her
to prove hat she knew nothing of
young Blagden's whereabouts. He Ger
tanly was not trailing her." -,
In the concluding paragraph OF this
unsatisfying letter, Adam very briefly
expressed the hope that Eric's first
year In Harvard would be a splendid
one. Rather 'grimly he suggested that
the first year Is always the hardest to
get through. no matter what you're
undertaking. After that, it's easy"
Proceeding, he urged him to allow no
outside influences to worry him, but to
devote all his time and energies to the
work ahead. Then he signed himself,
your staunch friend until death. Ad-
am Carr" undermining the words 'un-
til death"
1t was Adams way of convincing his
friend that his secret was safe.
Eric reread the letter several times,
conscious of q primal disappointment
that gradually gave way before a sense
of security In view OF the really subtle
wording OF the epistle. Adam told him
everything, and yet to the casual OBJ
server there was nothing to be seen
between the lines. OF one thing Eric
could be sure-the man meant TO keep
up the travesty Of bounding Horace
Blagden's son until he tired of the
sport, after which 1t would be a simple
matter to end 1t all by producing evil
dence Of his Quarry's death in some OBJ
scure corner OF the world.
The young man folded the sheets and
was restoring them to the envelope
when his attention was attracted by q
sound near at hand-a sound Of some
one stealthily moving in h fern banks
beyond the tree against which he leaned
his back. He whirled and partially rose
to his feet, q asst sense Of alarm as
sailing him.
Not 20 feet away stood Joan Bright,
her gaze full upon him. Something In
her eyes told him that she had been
standing there for some time, shy n
uncertain as to whether she should &C
cost him or flee the place in confusion.
He came to his feet In an instant, pal
ing and flushing by turns. Her serious
dark eyes wavered and the lids were
lowered for a second; then h met
his gaze resolutely.
II saw you from the road, Eric" h
said simply. He was struck by the
hurt. appealing look in her eyes. 1t
shamed him. What have / done, Eric?
What has happened Toto" She
flushed ~piteously and could not 60 on.
He sprang forward, clasping the