Five Mile Beach weekly journal., 1917-11-23

WIFI Suc1 an accompaniment VI lTOWuS
that Bixby accepted 1t without delay.
When they reached the family quarters
behind the store Mrs. Bixby turned
upon her spouse to rend him.
Heaven help you, Reuben Bixby. for
a first class idiot! For you to up and
tell a strange man, from the Lord only
knows where, exactly how he can help
himself to all he wants out at Pamela.
If they are every one of them murdered
in their beds tonight. poor creatures.
they will have you to thank for it."
Bixby's flesh turned rough with ter
ror. He blanched at the picture Of his
wife's drawing. She beamed her salts
faction at results.
$50 you begin to see it, do your" she
went on.
He began to see it. In great distress
of soul he took counsel with his book
keeper. What should he do to prevent
those five innocent ~aristocrats from be-
ing murdered in their beds or, to them
a much worse fate. being despoiled of
their ancestral belongings, the things
which were. more than meat or raiment
to them?
Bixby's bookkeeper was young. More
than that, he had long entertained a
hopeless alteration for the youngest of
the Misses Dalton. He was fired with
the chivalric resolve to protect the
whole batch Of Pamela ladies from the
possible consequences of Bixby's indis-
erection.
By the time his own supper was dis
posed of that night the bookkeeper's
plans were perfected. He would drop
in at Brent's, where the fellow had left
his sample trunks. and find out what
he was about. 1t was clearly his duty
not to lose sight of the villain. But at
Brent's. where a laughing story telling
group of knights of the road were fill
ing the air with smoke and chatter,
that particular drummer was not to be
found.
The inference was plain and blood
curdling! He had already started for
Pamela with heaven only knew what
diabelical schemes in his head. Inter
ception then must be his own role. 1t
was a good three miles tramp along a
udIA duu Auuuuy idAC, pub
glory awaited him at the other end.
1.-THE fellow" must have had a good
start of him. There were no signs of
the villain anywhere. Not even when
he reached the much~bepatched fence
about the Pamela house were there any
signs of travel In that direction save
the footprints he was himself leaving
In the heavy mud.
Under that lichen covered roof SUM
bered five timid, helpless females. all
of them lovely. one of them adorable.
They would never know it, for he.
their guardian angel, would steal away
with the first gray shaft of dawn, hav-
ing kept vigil over their slumbers
through all the hours of darkness.
Or, greater glory yet. he might fall a
victim to his chivalric duties. With o
shuddering sense of his w inferiority
he recalled the stalwart proportions of
the inquisitive villain. But to die In
defense Of such a creature-his soul
chung to the singular n~umber-would
be bliss provided he might only hear
her say before his last gasp, Jonas,
live for mel" which, of course, he
would politely decline doing.
AS a group the Pamela ladies were in
teresting. AS an individual Miss Maude
was absorbing. He had never yet ad-
dressed her as an individual. She
knew him only as a fletcher and car
rier of brown paper parcels from Blk
by's shelves to their buggy.
The world had doled out happiness
to Jonas with but a niggard's hand.
But tonight he would wipe out all old
scores. He CROPPED his way through
the wreck of a highly ornate front
gate. He advanced boldly up the bro
ken brick walk. As the villain had
not preceded him he was still to ar
rive. Fortune had given him the field.
Tonight he was only Bixby's clerk.
Tomorrow he would be-
Bangi
He D about, with his hand to his
pistol pocket. Where was the miscre-
ant?
Bang! Bang!
Heavens! Those shots came from be-
hind those faithless doors. The miscre-
ant had already effected his entrance.
Bang! Bang! Bangl
There must be twenty men there. He
promptly put a tree between himself
and humiliation.
AS the smoke Of this n sided bat
tie cleared away a gentle mistaken
voice 1oated across the intervening
space charged with inquiry:
k"Kindly let US know who that is
skulking behind that pecan tree. Speak
distinctly, please, so that no mistake
shall be made between foe or friend
before we fire again."
Bixby's bookkeeper preferred not to
speak at all. He was making a mental
map Of the premises he had ~traversed
with a view to strategic movements
toward the rear. Again that sweet I'M
shaken voice.