Belington progressive. [volume] (Belington, W. Va.) 1912-1927, 1917-12-20
hinte.. And yet, surveying tn

had hinte1. And yet, surveying tne
residence, one began to doubt
An eminently respectable quarter,
Seventy-sixth street, between Madi-
son and Park avenues, block as Sc
date as any in town, dedicated to the
homes of solid. decent, law-abiding
bodies who, to be sure, wouldn't suf-
fer association with any establishment
Of the least questionable character.
Since the cab had stopped not a
sound had disturbed the quiet save the
semioccasional rumbling of surface
cars on the one hand or snoring of
motors on the other.
And number SO itself was resi-
dence of type and caste to allay dis
trust at glance-an elderly, we'll
TODD sort, with brownstone front, well
groomed nothing in this ensemble the
least ominous or threatening.
Inclining to question old Quoin's
ever-ready inference, Peter climbed
back into the cab, and for five min
utes Rugged himself in private ecstasy.
Everything was for all the best in
the best of all possible worlds. He
needed only to crowd things bit, rush
the wedding through before Lydia
realized that people were onto Craven,
keep her if possible ignorant forever
of old Tad's disgrace That could be
fixed, no doubt. Fortunately Betty
wasn't vindictive. Quoin's commission
from her had been merely to scare
Craven silly and run him out Of town.
| And that, of course, would keep things
| dark; for Craven would never dare re-
| turn.
| Of course, if he ever found out his
| daughter didn't know, and her hus-
! band didn't want her to know, he
would likely try on little blackmaii-
| ing, just to keep body and soul TO-
| gether. But Peter wouldn't mind that
not in moderation. Anyway, he'd al
ways liked old Tad; and to think OF
| him in want, who had been SO reful-
| gent a figure in the life of town, would
be keen discomfort for his prospective
| son-in-law. Peter dared say old Tad
could do with tidy bit Of blackmail
something adequate and regular.
And he, for one, would never begrudge
it.
| But when five minutes had elapsed
| Peter began to fidget. That's long
time to wait for a girl you're crazy
about, who has just owned up she's
crazy about you!
| He consulted his watch: ten minutes
past eleven. Lydia had come to the
Margrave about a quarter Of: they
couldn't have been more than a quar-
| ter of an hour coming up town. Peter
became convinced that he had waited
| ten minutes, not FIVE.
Things began to look dubious. He
hoped out and up the steps OF SO.
The outer door was fastened; but a
steady pressure on the push-button
brought shadow to skulk suspicious
ly behind lace-screened inner doors.
One edge of the curtains was pulled
aside a trife, he was inspected mar
rowly, and then the shadow material
lied into woman who came forth and
unattached the outer doors. Even to
Peters captious scrutiny she looked a
very nice sort, altogether an appari-
ton to abash suspicion.
"Yes?" she inquired in pleasant
voice.
Yes the discounted young man
replied intelligently. 'That is to say
lI-ah-"
| perhaps you've mistaken the
housew
| "No-T mean to say-Miss Craven
I brought her here-was to wait to see
her home, you know-waited so long
began to wonder"
81 see," said the woman quietly, a
flicker of amusement in the eyes that
Peter rather liked. eff you don't mind
waiting another minute, I'll ask her."
Singularly enough, Peter thought,
she didn't ask him to step in out of the
weather On the other hand, she was
considerable not to keep him waiting
long; though the message she finally
brought him proved distasteful enough.
miss Craven asked me to give you
this, Mr.. Trait"
"Thanks," said Peter, graciously ac-
cepting the proffered envelope.
1t wasn't sealed. UnceremOniOusly he
lifted the flap and withdrew the in
closure, square, white, heavy CORE
spondence card with the address
: stamped in black letters. Below stub
pen had been used with disastrous eff
feet:
"Dear Mr.. Traft-Please don't wait
for me. I can't tell how long may
ha datainod Sinoaral-
'LYDIA CRAVEN"
Dear Mr.. Trait, nonplussed, accepted
dismissal with what grace he could
muster. "Oh-ah-thanks," he said
blankly. "Awfly good of you"
"Good evening, Mr.. Trait"
"Good evening"
The door closed. Peter grunted dis