The Elbert County tribune., 1916-08-11

voiced foreman of the shaft room. She
turned to stare belligerently towards
Anson Applewalthe, the immaculate
son of the factory owner himself, as
he ushered into the room of whirring
shafts and flying belts a small group
of visitors.
Yet the Ishmael-like young face soft
ened a little as she looked at one mem
ber of that approaching group. For
one fair-haired girl of about twenty.
dressed in black, whom young Apple
waithe piloted about amid the roaring
and Gathering machinery and repeat
edly addressed as Miss Golden" was
beautiful enough to bring a wayward
pang of envy to the breast Of Peggy
O'Mara. AS she watched her eyes sud
denly widened in alarm. For Margery
Golden, in staring about the room, had
unconsciously moved closer to one of
the ponderous machines. There the
loose end of her motor-cape was
snapped at by a spinning cog wheel, as
hound snaps at bone. The next
moment the whirling teeth had fas-
tened themselves IN the fabric of the
garment edge, carrying 1t back be-
tween the jaws of the twin cogs that
quickly closed on the cloth and
seemed to reach out for more.
At the same moment that Margery
Golden turned about to determine the
meaning of this sudden tug at her
clothing, the alert-eyed Peggy O'Mara
made an apparently maniacal spring
for that astounded young womaD's
throat.
With quick jerk of her thin young
fingers Peggy tore the cape free where
1t was already straining against the
white column of its wearer's throat.
1t was not until Margery Golden
saw the iron teeth of the cog wheels
swallowing up the last of her vanish
ing cape that any inkling of her dan
ger came home to her.
Margery Golden stepped back and
leaned against guard rail Then. aft
er looking studiously at the slattern
and slightly abashed figure of her de-
liverer she opened her pocketbook
and from 1t took out two or three neat
ly folded bank notes. These she held
smilingly out to the girl with the
broken-toed shoes.
But quick fash spread over the
usually colorless cheeks OF Miss Peggy
O'Mara as she backed determinedly
away from the bills.
Don't you care to take them?"
asked the somewhat astonished young
woman in black.
mo ma'am!" was the girls almost
sullen retort. 81 amt earned 'em!"
But I rather think you have" per-
sisted the other, still smiling.
you see, you saved my life. And
surely you won't embarrass me by
arguing that it's not worth that
much!"
Il don't want your money" an
nounced the sullen-eyed girl. putting
her hands behind her. But already
young Applewaithe was discreetly do
ing his best to pilot his visitors away
from the scene.
Peggy OMara stared after the de-
parting group. So intently did she
stare after them that she was oblivi-
Gus of the movements of the one-armed
man who had been STOPPING low over
his machine. in pretense of filling its
oil cups. He crept out to where
small gold locket had dropped from
Margery Golden's neck during the en-
counter. He caught 1t up from the oil
stained floor, looked at 1t for one short
moment, and then slipped it triumph
antly into his pocket. After that he
stood behind his machine, well out of
sight. watching the fair-haired girl in
black as she stepped out through the
factory door. His eyes, as he watched
her. were both calculating and sinis-
ter. But the pallid-faced girl standing
so close beside him had no means of
knowing that this preoccupied and
stoop-shouldered workman who had
lost his right hand was Jules Legar,
long known to his enemies as the
Iron Claw.
That mysterious one-armed man,
however. was destined to become bet
ter acquainted with Peggy O'Mara
than she imagined. For that night,
when the uneasy-minded girl knew her
father to be once more shut up in his
cellar workroom, she was further
disturbed by the sound of stealthy
steps across the bare wooden floor of
her home. She tiptoed out through
the door, crossed to the cellar steps,
and crept silently down into the dark
ness.
There, vaguely outlined against the
door cracks in the wall shielding her
father. she could make out a stealthily
inquisitive figure. And she knew that
figure could mean no good to the house
of O'Mara.
She crert as silently up the broken
steps again, went to her fathers time
worn tool chest and from It took out
somewhat rusty but ominous-looking
revolver.
The thin-armed girl with the thick