The Fayette falcon. (Somerville, Tenn.) 190?-current, 1916-05-12

! suavely, "as to the nature of your oC
cupatlon. What commodities do yoI
turn QUIT What tools and material d,
you required"
Paper and ink" she laughed. "And
oh! also typewriter"
you are Maud Brewster" sale
slowly and with certainty, almost al
though were charging her with {
crime.
Her eyes lifted curiously to mine
How do you know?"
Aren't your" demanded.
She acknowledged her identity with
a nod. 1t was Wolf Larsen's turn to
be puzzled. The name and its magic
signifed nothing to him. | was proud
that 1t did mean something to me, and
for the first time in weary while
was convincingly conscious Of a gu.
periority over him.
Il remember writing a review of a
thin little volume" had begun
carelessly, when she interrupted me.
"You!" she cried you are"
She was now staring at me in wide
eyed wonder.
| nodded my identity, in turn.
Humphrey Van Weyden," she con.
cluded; then added with a sigh of re-
lief, and unaware that she had glanced
that relief at Wolf Larsen. Il am 80
glad"
Il remember the review" she went
on hastily, becoming aware of the
awkwardness of her remark; that too.
too fiattering review"
Not at all" denied valiantly. you
impeach my sober judgment and make
my canons of little worth. Besides,
all my brother critics were with me.
Didn't Lang include your Kiss En-.
dured' among the four supreme son.
nets by women in the English Ian.
guage?"
You are very kind, am sure" she
murmured; and the very convention.
ality of her tones and words, with the
host Of associations 1t aroused of the
old life on the other side of the world,
gave me a quick thrill-rich with re-
membrance but singing sharp with
inconsistencies.
And you are Humphrey Van Wey.
den," she said. gazing back at me with
equal solemnity and awe. How un-
usual! I don't understand. We sure
ly are not to expect some wildly ro-
mantle sea story from your sober
penn"
mo, am not gathering material, /
assure you," was my answer. Il have
neither aptitude nor inclination for
fiction"
Tell me, why have you always
buried yourself in Californian" she
next asked. 1T has not been kind of
you. We of the East have seen so
very little Of you-too little, indeed.
Of the Dean Of American Letters, the
Second"
bowed to, and disclaimed, the com.
pliment. Il nearly met you, once. In
Philadelphia, some Browning affair or
other-you were to lecture. you know.
My train was four hours late"
And then we quite forgot where we
were. leaving Wolf Larsen stranded
and silent in the midst of our food
Of gossip. The hunters left the table
and went on deck, and still we talked. |
Wolf Larsen alone remained. Sudden
" | became aware OF him, leaning
back from the table and listening Gu.
-iously to our alien speech Of q world |
10 did not know.
| broke short OF in the middle of a
sentence. The present. with all its
,erils and anxieties. rushed upon me
With stunning force. II smote Miss
Brewster likewise, vague and name
ess terror rushing into her eyes as
HE regarded Wolf Larsen.
He rose to his feet and laughed awk.
yardly. The sound Of 1t was metallic.
"oh. don't mind me-" he said. with
! self-depreciatory wave Of his hand.
I don't count Go on, go on. ! pray
'ou."
But the gates Of speech were closed,
nd we. too. rose from the table and
aughed awkwardly.