The Washington herald., 1916-11-29

saved his journey thither. For pres
entity at 8 o'clock the girl was stand
ing on the veranda Of the Montrose
house looking down the street in
search Of Harold Stanley.
She was in riding clothes. A groom
held the two saddle horses at the
porte cochere. But Stanley was no.
where to be seen. Nor had he sent
word to explain his delay.
Hes forgotten all about mel" she
told herself petulantly, adding, ANY
how. I'm not going to be cheated out
of my ride"
She ran upstairs and knocked at
the laboratory door. DR.. Montrose
put away the diary in which he was
writing and went to meet her.
Daddy" she said with pretty i'm
periousness, Harold promised to ride
in Van Cortlandt Park with me. I'm
all dressed and the horses are wait
ing. and Harold seems to have for
gotten the whole thing. I'm horribly
disappointed! Won't you please put
on your riding togs and come along
with me?"
Twenty minutes later she and the
doctor were cantering, side by side,
along the highway toward Van Cort-
landt Park-at just about the time
Bob Clayton was starting for River
dale.
After a while they turned into a
winding and leafy by-road, off of the
parks main thoroughfares. and usu-
ally deserted at this time Of day.
Florence and Montrose, hearing the
automobile dashing along at reckless
speed behind them, drew aside to let
it pass.
The car sped by them, so close to
Florence that the running board
grazed the flank Of her frightened
horse. As the car passed two arms
shot out from the newly opened door
and seized the girl.
Before Florence could guess at what
was happening-before her father
could turn to look-the girl was
snatched bodily from the saddle and
dragged into the car.
Even as she screamed aloud In ter
ror DR.. Montrose turned his head and
saw what had happened. In that one
feeting glimpse he could see Tanner
and Morrison and a disreputable-
looking cripple in the tonneau.
WIN d cry VI pGilIlS-NCllOlB ~
Montrose drove the spurs into his
horse and gave chase. Calamity the
thoroughbred steed responded to his
masters call. Down the lane he
thundered at racing speed and around
the curve ahead.
But no living horse can overtake a
motor car that is going at fifty miles
an hour.
At last. giving up the useless chase.
DR.. Montrose turned his winded horse
homeward. He reached his own
house just as Robert Clayton came
up the front walk.
Turning his horse over to the groom,
the heartbroken Montrose in a dozen
words told Clayton what had hap
pened.
II stopped to telephone police head
quarters on the way here" he An
ished his miserable recital. But
am afraid 1t Is hopeless. L"
Let me call up every town for a
twenty-mile radius then" interrupt
ed Clayton, hurrying into the house,
land give a general alarm"
AS :. spoke at was striding toward
the telephone. But as he raised his
hand to the receiver, the telephone
bell began to ring. Clayton put the
receiver to his ear. impatient at the
call that delayed his own purpose Of
sending out an alarm to the suburban
police stations.
"Hello!" he said brusquely, get off
the wire please! L"
He said no more: but stood, mouth
agape. listening to the voice that
hailed him by name at the far end
of the wire.
At the rivers edge, three miles
above, the automobile that Montrose
had so vainly pursued, drew up along
side disused and tumble-down boat
house. Tanner and Morrison lifted
the struggling girl from the car and
half led, half carried her into the
house. The cripple followed, more
slowly, hobbling painfully along. The
car was driven away.
Now, then" ordered Tanner, from
the doorway, step lively and get that
motor-boat. You'll find 1t moored
where I told you, just beyond the
point over yonder. Jump!"
The cripple did not Jump" But he
hobbled away on his errand at a
very creditable pace, and when a
jutting hillock hid him from the
boathouse he put on a burst Of speed
that would have amazed his new as
sociates.
He raced at 100-yard-dash gait
for a solitary water side provision
shop a quarter mile below-a shop
from whose front he had seen the
jutting sign of a dark-blue bell on a
white ground.
Into the shops telephone booth he
slipped and called up DR.. Montrose's
house. At once Bob Clayton replied,
ordering him to leave the wire clear.
Florence Montrose," broke in the
cripple, painting from his record
breaking run, Florence Montrose is
in the old Harding boathouse at the
foot of Spuyten lane She's to be
taken up the Harlem in motor boat
and dropped overheard with a stone
at her feet. Quick!"
He hung up the receiver, darted
out of the booth and sprinted to the
tiny cove where Tanners motor boat
was moored. Boarding the boat, he
cast loose and set the engine going.
Croucbing at the wheel in the bow,
he deftly steered the craft around the
point Of land and toward the boat
house. As he neared the boathouse
he seemed to lose his athletic energy
and to slump back once more into
bia PorTnar awkward ond Faah1a nv,