The Tacoma times. [volume] (Tacoma, Wash.) 1903-1949, 1916-05-10
This is one of The Times
Novel-a- Week
series.
II will be finished in six
big installments.
CONTINUED from our last issue.)
CHAPTER w.
Mrs. Dysone

promise; a harder heart than
John Dollars would have ended
all by making 1t, and putting the
new case before all others when
the Saturday came.
| There was no question OF meet
! ing him at any station; the
wealthy mother of still recent
patient had insisted on present,
| ing Doctor Dollar with 50-horse-
power Talboys, which he had
eventually accepted. and even
chosen for himself with certain
expert assistance), as an incalcul-
able contribution to the cause.
Already the car had vastly en-
larged his theatre of work; and
on every errant his heart was
lightened and his faith fortified
by the wonderful case OF this
young chauffeur who sat so up
right at the wheel beside him
In the beginning he had slouched
there like the worst of his kind +;
1t was neither precept nor repri-
mand which had Strengthened his
back and his look and all about
him. He was what John Dollar
had always wanted-the uncon-
scious patient whose history none
knew who himself little
dreamed that 1t was all known to
the man who treated him almost
like a brother.
The boy had been In prison fol
dishonesty; he was being sedu-
lousy trusted, and so taught to
trust Himself. He had come in
March, a sulky and suspicious
clod; and now in June he could
talk cricket and sixpenny editions
from the Hounslow tramllnes to
the wide white gate opening into
drive through a Berkshire wood
with house lurking behind it in
mask of ivy, out OF the sun.
But in the drive Gen. Dysone
stepped back into the Doctors life
and, on being directed to the
stables, he who had filled 1t foI
the last hour drove out of it foI
the next "a.
Il wanted you to hear some.
thing at once from me-" his host
whispered under the whispering
trees, lest II should be mention.
cd and take you aback before the
others. We've had another little
tragedy-not a horror like the
last-yet in one way almost
worse. My wife shot her own dog
dead last night
Dollar put curb upon his
parting lips.
In the night?' he stood still
TO ask.
We'll, between II and 12."
In her own room, or where?'
"Out of doors. Don't ask me
how it happened; nobody seems
to know, and don't you know any
thing II she speaks of 1t herself"
His fine face was streaming
with perspiration; yet he seemed
to have been waiting quietly UNI
der the trees, he was not short OF
breath, and he big elderly man.
Dollar asked no questions at all /;
they dropped the subject there in
the drive. Though the sun was
up somewhere out of sight. it was
already late in the long June aft
ernoon, and the guest was taken
straight to his room.
1t was a corner room with one
ivy-darkened asement over
looking a shadowy lawn, the 9TH
er facing a forest of frs and
chestnuts.
Dollar found his things laid out
and his shirt studded, and a coy
on the brass hot-water can, with
as much satisfaction as though he
had never stayed in a country
house before. Could there be SO
very much amiss in a household
where they knew just what to do
for one, and just what to leave
undone?
And II was the same with all
the other creature comforts; they
mean good servants, however
short their service; and good SER
wants do not often mean the mis-
trees or the hostess whom Dol
lar had come prepared to meet.
He dressed in pleasurable doubt
and enhanced excitement - and
those were his happiest moments
at Valsugana.
Mrs. Dysone was a middle-aged
woman who looked almost old,
whereas the general was elderly
with all the appearance of early
middle age. The contrast was
very more complete in more in
vidious particulars; but Dollar
took little heed of the poor lady's
face, as a lady's face.
Her skin and eyes we're enough
for him; both were brown, with
that almost ultra-Indian tinge OF
SO many Anglo-Indians. He was
sensible at once of an Oriental
impenetrability.
With her conversation he could
not quarrel; what there was of IL
was crisp, unstudied, understand
ing. And the little dinner did
her the kind of credit for which
he was now prepared, but she
only once took charge of the talk
and that was rather sharply tt
change a subject into which she
had been the first to enter.
How 1t had cropped up, Dollal
could never think, especially a.
his former profession and ranl
duIv nhtai mad fhrnuUhouf bio y;c