The Beaver herald. [volume] (Beaver, O.T. [Okla.]) 1895-1923, 1917-09-06
CHAPTER XIV.


True to her instinct for the dramatic
moment, when the telephone interrupt
ed Mrs. Beggarstaff answered with no
apparent emotion and nothing more
than q noncommittal "Yes?" followed
at a brief interval by Eyes, If you
please, at once" Then, hanging up the
receiver, she set herself a~rtfully to de
lay Mrs. Merrilees. 'This is all very
WELL" she announced with complacent
determination; "but l want to know
what real evidence you have got
against Craven"
Nothing" Quoin admitted. beyond
clrcumstantial evidence, which, how
ever well grounded, wouldn't hold to-
gether a minute under the analysis Of
any a~ble-bodled criminal lawyer"
mo actual prooff"
"Not a whit. You may be sure Cra-
ven never took an active hand in any
Of these affairs: merely engineered
them with his inside information and
superior intelligence. Be sure, too,
that whenever a job was pulled off he
was always conspicuously somewhere
else"
"Then what do you propose doing?"
"Why-Betty permitting-scare him
silly and run him out Of town. l don't
think we want more than that-aside
from the necklace"
"That will content me-" Mrs. Merri-
lees affirmed.
Here a knock fell on the door, and
the Dowager Dragon, for all her pro-
tested infirmity, rose with the spryness
Of youth.
mo, don't go yet. It's only some
thing I've been expecting. And / want
n word more with you-about the
girl Lydia. Whatever you do, under
stand, 1 won't have her run out of
town, or annoyed, or frightened, or
%ill-treated in any way"
With this she disappeared down the
hallway. Followed a sound of voices
murmuring.
Quoin and Mrs. Merrilees fingered in
doubt and silence, the gaze Of each
seeking the others; while, to one side,
by these two forgotten, Peter Trait
waited, watching, some little sadness
and envy in his heart.
Not that he grudged Quoin the guer-
don of a lifetime's unselfish devotion ;
but he felt quite justified in envying
them the happiness that was to be
theirs. If he could ever hope to see
Lydia Craven look up into his face as
Betty Merrilees was just then looking
up at Quoin-
Betty, in a melting humOr and a
gown representing the finest flower of
the Rue de la Paix, to Peters fancy
cut a figure that filed your eye. And
In such matters Peter esteemed him
self a distinguished amateur.
But once Lydia Craven had entered
the drawing o Peter no longer
cared to look at Betty. A fellows got
only a certain limited amount of eye
sight, after all, and it's no good vast
ing it on anything he isn't really crazy
about.
In the severi Of her street dress
the girls figure had q graciousness that
even Betty's couldn't shadow. And
Lydia's face, set against the darkness
Of n of those trim little hats which
in those days were just beginning to
GUST the art-nouveau-coal-hod enormi-
ties-Lydia's rudy hair, the transpar-
ent pallor of her brow, the fine glow
in cheeks fresh from the rainy night,
her dark and animated eyes brighten
ing with surprise and half-timid pleas
ure-taken altogether Peter thought
Lydia's fairness was to Betty's as sun
to candlellght.
But with delight apprehension was
mixed in his mind. There were still
some phases Of life Peter hadn't faith
Omed; for one, the ~antagonism within
the sexes-within the sex, rather; for
1t was the attitudes often adopted
toward n another by the most ami
able and delightful of that per-
picked his understanding.
Now, with real provocation on her
side, what would be Betty's attitude
toward this rival beauty?
His solicitude was wasted. Either
he underestimate the generosity of
Betty, or Lydia's righteousness dis
armed. Constraint was absent from
their meeting: they went at once to
each others arms.
its so good to find you here, Betty.
Oh, good evening, Mr.. Quoin--Mr.
Trait, good evening. The best part is,
I thought you were stopping here, and
was in despair when / found you
weren't"
"It's dear Of you but"
II was so anxious to give you-this ~
IS she spoke the puzzle box left Lyd-
las keeping finally and for all time.
Betty Merrilees uttered a low cry.
'This?" she questioned in a strange
voice. "What?"
"Must j say" Lydia laughed. 81