The interior journal. [volume] (Stanford, Ky.) 1912-1984, 1916-05-19
TWELFTH EPISODE
The Haunted Canvas.

The daughter of Dan O'Mara was a
very happy girl. So happy, in fact,
was the freckled-nosed Peggy that
there were times when the sheer nov
city of her good fortune somewhat
frightened her For the tide had
turned The O'Mara family, as Peggy
put it, was at last in clover. That mys-
FERROUS Fighter of wrongs known as
the Laughing Mask had interested
himself in getting honest work for
Dan O'Mara. And that gracious-eyed
lady known as Margery Golden, once
she had realized the true position of
the family, had become equally inter
ested in doing what she could for the
spindle-legged Peggy.
1t is true, none the less, that this
aforementioned young lady's benefac-
tress had been momentarily nonplused
by Peggy's choice of vocation, when
this choice was placed before her.
'What would you like to do most?"
Margery had asked at the end of her
second trip to the O'Mara cottage
with a bundle of clothes for the all
but breathless Peggy.
''Be a artists model" promptly an
nounced the rapt-eyed factory girl.
"But why a mcdel?" asked the
amazed Miss Golden.
''To doll up in glad rags and get
meself painted" explained the dream
err of the dye watts And odd as that
choice seemed to her, Margery Golden
did not depart from her promise. She
sought out her artist friend, Frank
Aimick, and inveigled him to expert
ment with a new and somewhat I'M
tried model.
Frank Aimick, however, soon found
the ardent-eyed young Peggy more of
a help to him than he had anticipated.
Some of her unctuous yet uncouth at
titudinizing, in fact, brought smile
to the face of the busy artist.
But that smile was never broader
than when he noticed her standing
wide-eyed before the large canvas
above the fireplace at the end of his
studio. For this painting, which bore
the title of "The Vigilante," was a re-
markable piece Of work, in more ways
than one. 1t showed the life-siZe fig
ure of a frontiersman staring out into
the room, with leveled carbine at
his buckskinned shoulder. But the ar
resting feature of the painting lay
in the fact that both the eyes of the
figure and the barrel of the leveled
rife seemed always to be directed at
the spectator, no matter what position
the spectator might take.
"That guy gives me the willies!"
Peggy protested as she made her way
back to the model throne.
"Why?" asked the smiling man at
the easel.
"He keeps such bead on you, no
matter where you get in this room!"
was the girls reply.
But destiny, in the form of one Jules
Legar, had secretly ordained that
Peggy's happiness should not be last
ing one. For Peggy O'Mara was no
longer trivial factor in the activities
of the Iron Claw. This slip of a girl
had brought defeat to his plans when
success seemed we'll within his hand.
And for these humiliations Legar de-
cided that the girl should pay, and pay
to the full.
The modest home of the O'Maras,
however, had no inkling of this deci-
sion until Dan O'Mara himself, wan
dering about his combined kitchen and
living room in search of his pipe, was
somewhat startled to see square of
paper pinned to the faded door panel.
Peggy herself, Joining her father, was
equally mystified by this slip of paper,
for its surface showed nothing but a
round blot or two Of black ink on a
square of white. Neither Dan O'Mara
nor his daughter had any reason to
know the meaning of the spotted
warning, any more than they knew
that one Mauki, the stealthy emissary
of the Iron Claw, stood hidden behind
the walls of one of the three cottages
I commanding q clear view of the
k O'Mara home.
They had no way of knowing that
this same Mauki lurked there behind a
shattered window, patiently watching,
hour after hour, the house across the
way. Close beside him as he watched