The log cabin Democrat., 1916-04-28
FOOL AND ANGEL
By lZOLA FORESTER.

piano playing of the girl downstairs in the back parlor, perhaps it was only curiosity. Eaton never analysed the motive that made him bite at Bill lie Tanguay's April-fool bait. The main point was that he swallowed it, hook and line
 Eaton, have you seen it?" Billie called at his door about nine
 Seen what? He raised his head from the engineering plans on the table under the leaky student lamp
 'Airship. Seems to be making for the Long Island shore crossing from Jersey If you hurry you can get a 1 look"
 Eaton hurried. He was in the sec ond floor back room. It took about a minute and half for him to reach the roof, and then as he stood alone, gag 1 ing hopefully up at the star-dotted 1 heavens, he heard the sliding of the roof door over it's ladder, the locking and Billie's cheerful challenge: Happy dreams. April fool!" l Even then there was nothing tragic about the situation. It was merely ri diculous, and no one cares to be made ridiculous even in ones own eyes Ea- 1 ton walked about the roof rather phil osophically before the novelty of roofs began to interest him Their house was one of a long row of tall brown stone dwellings in the West Fffties. near Sixth avenue, New York city. They were old-fashioned enough Hence the ladder and trapdoor en- trance. They all appeared to be about the same. Eaton noticed he stood on the third from the end of the row, after which came a space, he could not tell how wide, and a higher roof on the corner building. And even as he watched h. " a man emerge from the small Dinlike exit, run to the edge of the roof and take the jump to the next one.
 Almost immediately there followed a shot, and Eaton stepped, with natural caution, behind a group of tall cnim- ney-pots. The man had hidden behind a neighboring group, and as a police man came in sight on the first roof he shot at him, turned and ran directly toward Eaton's shelter AS he dropped behind it, he said huskily over his shoulder:
 Beat it kid, can hold him. Here 9
 He handed over something wrapped clumsily in a handkerchief, black silk one. And even as he did so, there came another shot, and he rolled over on the graveled roof and lay quite still. The policeman was calling out something to him, Eaton knew. He seemed to want him to come nearer Hatless, young, thoroughly confident he stepped over the brick dividing sec tions and came to the space between It was too wide to leap unless one were running for life like the man who lay behind the red chimney-pots
 'I live in 160," said Eaton. They've locked me out for joke"
 And then the most peculiar thing happened. Out of the trapdoor from No 164 there exuded men, another DO liceman and aome plain clothes men.
 
 without any warning or apology, took the untidy handkerchief bundle out of his grasp and hustled him downstairs past shrinking, shadowy forms and down into the street. He heard one of them say disgustedly that his pal had been faking When they went af- ter his body it had gone from behind the red chimneypots. Vaguely sens ing a growing personal indignation, Eaton was glad he had made a get away. He kept repeating firmly:
 T am Thomas w. Eaton of 160. You can ask anyone living there who am--'
 You're Slimsy Louis all right" the man who held his arm retorted so positively that Eaton felt that until he had corroboration, it was usless to argue the point Then he found him. self being pushed up the steps at the corner house, up the elevator to the fourth floor and then into a splendidly furnished apartment, facing the po- liceman who had fired the two shots and the loveliest girl Eaton had ever laid eyes on All ill pink negligee she was. with her long, dark hair un- bound, and her eyes wide with horror at her experience, With her hands pressed to her face she looked at Eaton, but shook her head:
 He wasn't here. It was a short, dark man with a mustache."
 This one had the jewels in his hand when we got him." they told her. Eaton saw the handkerchief opened and inside was a gittering handful of diamonds and other gems, set in rings and trinkets. One necklace, he no ticed, was of pearls. The girl glanced at them and nodded her head
 They're all there, but this is not the other man"
 Then there were three of them" began a policeman
 T am Thomas w. Eaton" began the prisoner again, with a certain quiet