Evening public ledger. [volume] (Philadelphia [Pa.]) 1914-1942, 1916-07-31

TNHE mucker opened his eyes. Close
J. above him bent the radiant vision of
Barbara Harding's face. on his forehead
he felt the soothing strokes OF her cool
soft hand.
He closed his eyes again to battle with
the effeminate realization that he enjoyed
this strange, new sensation--the sensation
of being mlnistered to by n gentle woman
s---and, perish the thought, by, a gentle
womani
with an effort he raised himself to one
elbow, scowllng at her.
"Gwan," he said II amt no boob dude.
Cut out de mush. Lemme be. Beat itr'
Hurt more than she would have cared
to admit, Barbara, Harding turned away
from her ungrateful and ungraclous pa
tlent to repeat her ministratons to the
Frenchman. The mucker read in her ex-
preston something of the wound his words
had inflicted, and he lay thinking upon
the matter for some time, watching her
deft, white fingers as they worked over
the scarce-breathing Theriere.
He saw her wash the blood and dirt
from the CHASTITY wound in the mans chest,
and as he watched he realized what n world
ef courage It must require for n woman
~ her stamp to do gruesome work of this
sort.
Never before would such a thought have
occurred to him. Neither would he have
to the girl might have inflicted Instead,
he would have felt keen enjoyment of her
discontinue.
And now another strange, new emotion
took possession of him. It was none other
than desire to atone In some way for
his words4 What wonderful transforma-
ton was taking place in the heart of the
Kelly gangster.
'Sayp he brought out suddenly
Barbara Harding turned questioning
Aswxfa aaI .. 11lI
naughty aloofness again that had marked
her cognizance of him upon the Halfmoon
that look that made his hate of her burn
more hercely. II took the mucker's breath
away to witness 1t, and 1t made the speech
he had contemplated more difficult than
ever--nay, almost impossible.
He coughed nervously, and the old dark,
lowering scowl returned to his brow.
Did you speak2" asked Miss Harding
icily.
Billy Byrne cleared his throat and then
there blurted from his lips not the speech
he had intended, but a sudden, hateful rush
of words which seemed to emanate from
another personality, from one whom Billy
Byrne once had been.
"An't dat boob croaked YETI" he
Erowled.
The shock of that brutal question brought
Barbara Harding to her feet. In horror
she looked down at the man who had spoken
thus of brave and noble comrade in tho
face of death itself. Her eyes blazed
angrily, as hot, bitter words rushed to her
lips, and then of a sudden she thought of
Byrne's self-sacriflcing herosm In return
Ing to Theriere's side in the face of the
advancing Samurai of the cool courage
he had displayed as he carried the uncon-
scious man back to the Jungle; of the de-
votion, almost superhuman, that had sus-
tained him as he struggled, uncomplaining,
up the steep mountain path with the bur-
den of the Frenchman's body, the while
his own lifeblood left a crimson trail be-
hind him.
Such deeds and these words were incom-
patible with the same individual. There
could be but one explanation-Byrne must
be two men with as totally different char
acters as though they possessed separate
bodies.
And who may say that her hypothesis
was not correct? At least, 1t seemed that
Billy Byrne was undergoing metamorpho-
sis, and at the instant there was still
question as TO which personality should
eventually predominate.
Byrne turned away from the reproach
which replaced the horror in the girls
eyes. and with tired sigh let his head fall
upon his outstretched arm The girl