The Washington herald., 1915-08-26
DAILY SHORT STORY.
HIDDEN HOUSE.
By cLARIsSA MACKIE.

Chronicle had given him. he would STAY
| with the bunch of regular reporters wht
| covered the great cases. instead ol
hanging around police headquarters pick
ing up stray items ana sordid city court
news.
Remember, Jack. the man has been IL
| prison for twenty years-once he was 9
great politician, a rich man, respected BY
all-but he was found out In a big steal
He's done time and now he Is out Wha,
Is he going to do with the rest of his
life? Bring me the story-and you'll gel
yours, seer" The chief smiled significant.
iy and Jack. with his meagre data con
cerning the present whereabouts Of Law.
son Roberts, hustled away to catch the
first train for q remote Long Island vii.
lage, where II was said Roberts was In
hiding.
At Sandyways Jack suardedly ques.
toned the host of the solitary hotel. He
reasoned that Lawson Roberts would
seek sanctuary under an assumed name.
Many strangers In town." repeated
tho hotel man. thoughtfully nibbling q
toothpick. Cant say as there are. Its
the end Of the summer season and all
the boarders have gone. ! reckon you re
an agent Of some kind-maybe selling
books?'
Jack smiled evasively.
III bet there's one old party you
couldn't sell a book to-not IL you was
to take of 30 per cent Of the price," wen,
on the man.
who Is he?''
Names Robinson-taken the old Hid
den House-used to be Judge Hidden $
place. Celia Hidden married Lawson
Roberts. the Politician; he's in prison
po1, for cronked dealing kJts u,ffa die6
ten years ago and the place belongs to
the daughter. It's never been rented un-
til recently, when Mrs. Hester Bird
rented II. No one ever heard Of her be-
fore; and now her brother, old man
Robinson. and his daughter have arrived
And ther're all as close-mouthed and up
pish as can be; as II Sandyways folks
weren't good enough for them. And
stingy-whew!'
"well. you're not very encouraging
responded Jack with a bored cir as he
moved away. But when he was out of
sight his pace auickened The first
House on the outskirts Of the village.
There's a miser lives there" informed
the boy, land an old witch woman and a
crazy girl You better look out!''
Good heavens!' muttered Jack, as he
went on his way. 1T certainly takes
the unsophisticated rustic to make a
lurid story out OF simple happening:
Here Is Lawson Roberts returning to his
only refuge-the home that his daughter
inherited from her grandfather. and no
one has recognized in Robinson the
criminal Roberts,
Hidden House set back 200 feet from the
highway. half concealed under an over
growth of honeysuckle and wistaria
xinaq There Of dnf-
ted with fine old oaks and chestnuts and
towering locust trees a century old. but
the uncared-for turf was a wilderness of
weeds ana the trees were untrimmed. A
high hedge Of arbor vitae surrounded
the place.
Jack tried the front gate. but the iron
portal was securely fastened A wide
carriage entrance was similarly barred
against intrusion. and he finally entered
a narrow. grassy lane that bordered one
side Of the grounds. Here he found q
inward at his touch.
He approached the side entrance to the
gloomy old house, passing a small. rus
tic summer house smothered In wood
bine.
Halt" said a determined voice.
Jack halted to confront a wicked look
ing shotgun leveled by a sweet-faced.
wide-eyed girl boyishly attired in a short
khaki skirt and blouse. with high-laced
tan boots on her pretty feet.
His hat came on and his look of in
quiry was mingled with sincere admira-
ton.
Perhaps you didn't observe the No
Tresspassing' signs" she remarked cool
ly.
II didn't" he honestly confessed.
They are plainly to be seem she said
significantly. You can read them as
you pass out"
Thank you-but want to see some
one"
who are you looking for?" she asked
sharply.
''Mr.-Roberts," he hazarded.
Her face paled and a desperate look
came into the sweet eyes that should
never have been troubled by sorrow.
You mean Mr.. Robinson she asked.
Il mean Lawson Roberts," he said.
feeling like q brute.
The gun dropped suddenly as II her
had failed her. "You-know"
she whispered.
II guessed"
You are Q reporter7'
Yes"
Il might have known II! You want to
him, / suppose? Show the
world what twenty years of prison life
can do to q man? He has paid the prize
Of his sin-let him alone." she cried pas
sionately.
"My-my paper" he stammered.
a shed at her emotion.
your paper!" she mimicked. What
Is II to your paper what my father does
now that justice has been satisfied? No
one would listen to him when he pro-
tested his innocence in those old days
I was only q child. but I remember. the
shadow that clouded our home. | sup
pose you will lose your position IL you
don't get a good story about my poor
father!' How scornfully she looked al
him!
Hardly that" he said brusquely. He
looked sharply down the path. The bent
form Of q man was hobbling painfully
down the walk, pausing now and then to
smell q late rose nodding on its stem or
shrub and press them against his hollow
cheeks.
HE Is like a child" she said tremu.
lously He has been shut away from
the world so long. and now everything
Is strange to him. 1 will not have him
bounded by curiosity seekers! will kill
the first man who tries to interview
him. She ended In q fierce outburst that !
was strangely unlike her gentle person |
ali:y.
II will 70, Miss Roberts," he said slow |
Iy. Some day I'm coming back again. |
not as a reporter to interview your faith |
er, but as a friend to help prove his In. !
nocence."
"Ah. thank you-bIt stay now and
hear his story of the guilty man. she