News and citizen. [volume] (Morrisville, Vt. ;) 1881-current, 1916-09-20

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and then sank like a stone; for not
only must he die, but he must give
up the girl he loved, and had planned
to marry. The first thing he meant to
| do was to write to her and explain and
release her from her promise. The
next thing.
He refused to let the idea of the next
step form in his mind. But he knew
very well what it would be- In the
backwards of his understanding it
lurked-a gray, grisly, shameful
shadow.
The elevator kept him waiting a
moment or two, just round the corner
from the grill-room door, whence came
a sound of voices talking and laughing.
Whitaker heard what was being said
without, at first, comprehending-
heard and afterwards remembered in
vivid detail.
| "Seems to be the open season for
runaways," Hamilton was saying. Its
only a few days since Thurlow Lads
las daughter-what's her name?-
Mary-took the bit between her teeth
and bolted with the old mans chauf-
feur."
Somebody asked: GLOW far did
they get before old Ladislas caught
upw
"He didn't give chase. He's not that
kind. If he was put to it, old Thur
low could play the unforgiving parent
in melodrama without any makeup
whatever"
Hes just like that" said Hamil-
ton. Remember his other daughter,
Grace, clipping with young Petit a few
years ago? Old Ladislas had down
on Pettit-who's decent enough kid.
notwithstanding-s Grace was
promptly disowned and they've no
hope of ever touching penny of the
Ladslas coin"
"But what became of them-Mary
and the stoker-person?'
Nobody knows, except possibly
themselves"
whats she like, this Marquette
contrary?" inquired George Brenton's
Toice.
"Oh, nothing but a kid" said little
I1ske.
"Not over eighteen"
The elevator was waiting by this
time, but Whitaker paused an instant
before taking it, chiefly because the
sound of his own name, uttered by
Hamilton, had reused him out of the
abstraction in which he had overheard
the preceding conversation.
anyhow, I'm sorry for Hugh Whit
aker. He's going to take this hard,
mighty hard"
George Brenton asked, as if sur
prised: "What? I didn't know he
was interested in that quarter"
"You must be blind. Alice Carstairs
has had him going for year. Every
body thought she was only waiting for
him to make some big money-he as
much as anybody, fancy"
Brenton added the last straw.
''That's tough" he said soberly. "Whit-
aker's a white man, and Alice Car
stairs didn't deserve him. But I
wouldn't blame any man for feeling
cut-up to be thrown over for an out
and-out rotter like Percy Grim
shaw. :"
Whitaker heard no more. At the
first mention of the name of Alice Car
stairs he had snatched her letter from
his pocket and was reading. Nobody
will ever know just what Alice Car
stairs saw fit to write to Hugh Whit
aker. The blood ebbed from his face
torn the paper to shreds and let them |
flutter about. his feet, he swayed per-
ceptibly-so much so that one of the |
pages took alarm and jumped to his :
side.
'Beg pardon, Mr.. Whitaker-did you
call me?"
Whitaker steadied himself and |
stared until he recognized the boy.
mo-" he said thickly, "but want you.
Give me bar order"
The boy produced the printed form
and Whitaker hastily scrubbed his or
der on it. "Bring that up to the IL
brary," he said, "and be quick about |
it."
He stumbled into the elevator, and |
presently found himself in the library.
There was no one else about, and |
Whitaker was as glad of that as it was
in him to be glad of anything just
then. He dropped heavily into a big
and waited, his brain whirl-
ing and seething, his nerves on edge
and screeching. In this state Peter
Stark found him.
Peter sauntered into the room with
a manner deliberately careless. Be
meath that mask he was anything but
Indifferent, just as his appearance was
anything but fortuitous. Moreover,
Peter had already heard about Alice
Carstairs and Percy Grimshaw.
Hello" he said, contriving by mere
accident to catch sight of Whitaker,
who was almost invisible in the big
chair with it's back to the body of the