The Ely miner. [volume] (Ely, Minn.) 1895-1986, 1916-04-07


fort.
She hesitated, white-faced, as he re-
peated the command.
YES" she gasped, as a fair-haired
child of six ran lightly from the manor
house steps to meet her mother.
Palidori, lighting cigarette, turned
carelessly away and sauntered to-
ward the shrubbery of the eastern
point. Margory, the fair-haired child.
chartered and fiuttered birdlike about
her silent mother as she approached
the house and passed inside. But on
the wide loggia Enoch Golden, stern
eyed and grim-lipped, paced back and
forth, scared by the fires of jealous
suspicious. He wheeled about and
strobe into the house.
He passed through the quiet room
until he came to his study. There, as
he sat staring moodily at the top OF
his mahogany desk, his gaze fell on
the picture of his wife in it's heavy
frame of chased silver. He gazed
down at it abstractedly, then rose and
crossed to the wall safe, where he
rummaged through morocco cased
jewels and precious stones gathered
together when he was a wanderer in
all parts Of the world. In this wealth,
however, he found small interest,
since his search was for the locket in
VIII ich was set his favorite picture of
his wife, taken the day of their mar
riage. This locket, finally unearthed
from the bottom of jewel case, he
stared at hungrily, with his lips franz
ing the torturing question:: Can 1t be
true?" He moved about, repeating
that question. Then he came to sud-
den stop, set the heavy muscles of his
jaw, and rang for a servant.
ASK Mrs. Golden to come here" he
commanded.
The old negro showed hesitation.
AT once, sah?"
"At once" repeated Golden. Looking
up, he perceived the perturbation on
the old negro's face. why don't you
go? Where is Mrs. Golden"
"She's down in the shrubbery at
the East point with Doctor Palidori,"
nervously acknowledged the old re-
tainer.
Golden leaped to his feet. He strobe,
white-faced, through the silent house,
hurried on along the narrow garden
paths, and suddenly slackened his
pace as he approached the thick shrub
berry beyond. The sound of voices
came to his ear. Creeping forward he
cautiously parted the branches. There,
screened from the world about them,
Palidori stood gazing down into his
wife's eyes.
81 cannot give you the key" he
heard her say my husband still has
it."
Then what can we do?" asked the
Italian.
81 will give it to you tonight. 1t
will be safer them" was the quaver-
ing answer. .... ~.
Then you must give me more than
the key" murmured Palidori.
Golden, dropping back, staggered
away like a stricken animal and heard
no more. His last hope had withered
out The worst was known. He re-
entered his home, like a man in a
dream. He sat gray-faced at his desk,
a sweat of agony beading his great
body. Then, after an hour of silent
wrestling with his soul, the natural
beiligerency of the fighting man awak-
ened in him. Seeing only one course
before him, he sent CURLY for three
of his retainers, three huge negroes
whom he knew he could trust. To
each of these he handed out belt and
holster containing a revolver. Then
he briefly and coldly gave his orders.
This island" he grimly announced,
makes it's own laws!"
He was still pacing the room when
his wife came in. AS she approached
him she caught sight of the open lock-
ct on the desk and took it up. Tears
started to her eyes. Then she crept to
her husbands side, with her hands
clinging hungrily to his shoulders. But
Golden could neither meet her gaze
nor speak to her. Be-, .+ .7a4
And late that night, when the hour
for his Intervention drew nearer, he
was almost able to exult in finding
something against which to centralize
all his earlier vague suspicious. He
moved with both calmness and pre-
cision. He showed the quick instinct
of the trained hunter in seeking cover
behind the heavy portieres, for the
French window beside him command
ed view of both the library within
and the moonlit garden without. And
along the shrubbery of this garden he
soon detected Palidori stealing, car
rying traveling-bag in his hand and
coat over his arm. Through the soft
ly lighted library, a minute later, the
figure of Golden's wife slowly ad-
vanced. She crept out through the
French windows, which stood open,
stepped down into the garden, and
passed on through the shrubbery to
where Palidori stood waiting in the
shadows.
The watching husband could see the
two come together, he could hear the
murmur of whispering voices, he could
see Palidori's hand go out and clasp
the woman's.
Il will not go alone. love you,
and l want you to be happy!"
The woman's answer could not be
heard. But Palidori, stepping sudden
ly forward, clasped her in his arms,
and forced back her head until his
lips smothered the cry that rose to
her own.
1t was then that the planter stamped
on the wooden floor, not with mere
rage, but as a signal to his waiting