Manchester Democrat. [volume] (Manchester, Iowa) 1875-1930, 1916-01-26

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1.-THE Lone WoIf7 Who Is That?"
wretched child, Marcel But now /
appeared he had procrastinated IA
tally-time and change had left littl,
other than the shell of the Troyon'.
he remembered. Papa Troyon wal
gone; madame no longer occupied thu
desk of the caisse; inquiries, so dis
creetly worded as to be uncompro
missing, ELECTED from the maitre d'ho
tel the information that the house had
been under new management these
eighteen months; the old proprietor
was dead, and his widow had sold out
lock, stock and barrel, and retired tc
the country, it was not known OK
actly where. And with the new adj
ministration had come fresh decora
tions and furnishings and complete
change of personnel-not even one OF
the old walters remained.
"All are gone, the old, familiar
faces" Lanyard quoted in vindict1ve
melancholy-"damn 'em!"
Happily it was demonstrated that
|. the cuisine was being maintained on
it's erstwhile plane of excellence-one
still had that comfort!
Other Impressions, less intimate,
proved puzzling, disconcerting and
paradoxically reassuring.
Lanyard commanded a fair view of
Roddy across the waist of the ROOM
The detective had ordered a meal that
matched his aspect we'll, both of true
British simplicity. He was square,
set man with a square jaw, cold blue
eyes, fat nose, q thin-lipped trap Of
a mouth, face as red as rare beef
steak.
His dinner comprised a cut from
the joint, boiled potatoes, brussels
sprouts, bit of cheese, a bottle Of
Bass. He ate slowly, chewing with
the doggedness Of strong character
hampered by weak digestion, and
all the while kept his eyes fixed to an
issue of the Paris edition of the Lon
don Daily Mail with an effect of con-
centration quite too convincing.
Now one doesn't read the Paris edi-
ton of the London Daily Mail with in
tense excitement. Humanity speaking,
it can't be done.
Where, then, was the object of this
so sedulously dissembled interest?
Lanyard wasn't slow to solve this
riddle to his satisfaction-ln so far,
that is, as it was satisfactory to fee:
yet more certain that Roddy's quarry
was another than himself.
Despite the lateness of the hour,
which had by now turned ten o'clock,
the restaurant had still dozen tables
or so in the service Of guests pleas
antly engaged in frightening out an
agreeable evening with dessert, coffee,
liqueurs and cigarettes. The majority
Of these were in couples, but at table
one removed from Roddy's sat party
of three; and Lanyard noticed. or
fancied, that the man from Scotland
Yard turned his newspaper only dur
ing lulls in the conversation in this
quarter.
OF the three. one would pass for an
American of position and wealth-a
man Of something more than sixty
years, with an execrable accent. a
racking cough. and thin, patrician
cast of countenance c1ouded darkly by
the expression of a soul in torment,
furrowed, scanned, twisted-a mask of
mortal anguish. And once, when he
looked UP and casually encountered
Lanyard's gaze, the adventurer was
shocked to find himself staring into
eyes that were as the eyes of a dead
nan-eyes of a gray so light that at
1 little distance the color of the iris
blended indistinguishably with their
whites. leaving visible only the round.
black points of pupils abnormally dis
ended and staring. blank, fixed, pas
beneath lashless lids
For the instant they seemed to ex-
'lore Lanyard's very soul with a look
# remote and impersonal curiosity;
hen they fell away, and when next
he adventurer looked the man had
urned to attend to some obs ervation
II one Of his companions with a
mile that fairly TRANSPORTED his face,
he smile of a charming child.
On his right sat girl who might
,e his daughter, for not only was she,
90, obviously American, but she was
ar too young to be the others wife.
demure, old-fashioned type, we'll
.oised but unassuming, -fetchingly