The Bottineau courant. (Bottineau, Bottineau County, N.D.) 1895-1929, 1917-08-16

That would be 1t. Boroday eased III
aching arm. He did not dare q sling,
but the hand was thrust in the pocket
Of his coat. If only the hemorrhage,
did not start againl He braced him.
self and watched.
1T was q robbery, you know that"
said Ward, in the library. He picked
his words carefully. "As l got the
story, a taxicab on it's way to the bank
was held up neal the Record Office.
Your father had stepped to the curb
to hail the taxi, and-it happened
then, IA stray bullet from one Of
the bandits guns"
BOroday, eyes on the car, heard the
statement, and, with the chief coming
up the steps from the road to the gar
den, took the time to repudiate 1t. :
"Pardon!" he said. 1T was not q
weapon in the hands of the bandits. It
was the revolver of the bank messen-
ger"
Ward turned in surprise. Boroday'S
eyes were fixed on Elinor's, with reas-
surance in their depths. The assistant
rector was not subtle, but he had a
curious feeling Of something behind all
this. He was uncomfortable.
Il trust" he said earnestly, shat
these various outrages will be at an
end now. Surely the police"
Possibly" The anarchists gaze
wandered to the garden, where even
then the chief was making his way to-
ward the house. "Of course, these
bandits are trained men Of unusual
intelligence. If the police were of I'M
telligence to cope with them"
"Yes?"
"They would not be on the force, at
meager salaries and petty graft. They
would be"-he shrugged his shoulders
-"bandits themselves, very possibly"
Ward left after that-left with an
uncomfortable feeling of having got
nowhere. He was convinced of one
thing, death, which for him was an
open gateway, was for this girl a
closed and fastened door. And he
knew something else. No other woman
had ever S O profoundly impressed him
as this girl who without hope in her
grief met it with a high head and
courageous eyes.
He felt a certain comfort in one
thing. Elinor had made a concession,
and Hilary Kingston, lavish giver to
the parish poor, was to be buried from
Saint Jude's.
The chief met Mr.. Ward on the ter
race and took of his hat. Boroday.
In the dim hall, felt a certain sense OF
content. Nothing could have been more
suspicious, could have set his stage
better for his little drama, than the
presence Of the young clergyman. The
whole scene gained tone, decorum.
The chiefs visit was short. They
had followed the bandits car and lost
it, and finding himself ID the neighbour
hood
".Be assured" he said tt ElinOr, in
his best manner, that Wen not rest
until this thing is cleared up. The
communicable cleared his throat
"the community will pot lose n Of
It's best citizens without a violent pro-
test"
With the coroner he Went up the
stairs and ntO OLD HllaryS room. Inc
chief glanced about while the hasty
examination was being made.
mice room," he said. "But q jolly
lot Of good it Ices the old gentleman
now! Nice little girl downstairs, too.
I've seen that chap in the hall some
where"
The coroner drew the sheet over old
Hilary's peaceful face.
"The preacherY They all look alike.
| It's the vest and the collar"
"The other man, with the accent.
German, l take it, o~r-Russian."
Boroday was waiting for them at
the foot of the staircase. In the IL
brary was a tray, with drinks and
sandwiches. The shades had been
lowered.
The chief ate and drank. And as
often as he raised his glass he looked
at the Russian over it. At last: =,
Haven't we met somewhere, Mr..
"
"Boroday. I rather think not"
| "You remind me Of someOne-TD