New Britain herald., 1918-01-11

 for me until I had the opportunity to/ come into the city to get them mysele.
 "Of course, she means my fath e1i I said, and the sound of my own voice startled me, so hoarse and unfa- miliar it was.
 sI am afraid so," Lillian said gently. There was no need for either her or me to identify the pronoun I had used. She" to Lillian and me, and to Kath- crime Sonnot also, meant but one per- son, beautiful, malignant Grace Ora per.
 Let me see the 4asfs two envelopes, the ones that Katherine just brought" I asked.
 Katherine looked at Lillian, who gave a silent sign of acquiescence, and my little friend extended the two en- vlopes she had brought from her lodgings.
 opened the one of the earlier date first. There was no newspaper story in it, but something far mor disquiet- ing, the announcement of an under taking firm advertising cheap funerals, in the center of which was the pho tographic reproduction of coffin.
 ~You Must Be Brave"
 With little shudder I passed both it and the unopened envelope over to Lillian.
 You open the other one," I said faintly. T haven't the courage"
 She tore it open, and I saw by the look she bent upon me that fears of her own had been confirmed.
 "Oh, what is it?'' I gasped.
 You must be brave, Madge," Lil- Iof able something in her voice that made me realize it was not thus she was wont to take the blows of fate Re member this whole series of letters is designed solely to frighten you. There is a possibility that there may be little foundation for them. But in any event you must nerve yourself to meet whatever is in store for you.'' I stretched out my hand for the let ter in reply. I could not utter a word, my throat was to constricted for speech. But I compelled my hand to steadiness, for I made myself remem Der that I was Lillian's trusted aid in her work She could have no use for l anything short of steady nerves and 1 stout hearts.
 The thing that met my eyes, how 1 ever was enough to unnerve any 1 daughters heart. A broad black bor- ] der like the frame of a picture, drawn l with pen and ink. surrounded words, l the letters of which had been cut 1 from a newspaper and pasted on the ] sheet of cheap note paper. There 1 were two lines of these words, the up
 per in capital letters of large type, l read:
 1 THE LATE ROBERT GORDON, | ALIAS CHARLES SPENCER" ] The lower in smaller type, and low 1 CT case letters, was still more terrify- I ing, for it bore the sinister legend: Better Not to Guess How He Died" And down in the lower right-hand ] corner of the sheet of paper, in the I smallest type of all, were these 1 words:
 l "Au Revoir for Two Weeks" I sat gazing at the thing before me, my hands clutching the table for sup 1 port I was determined that I would l not betray any weakness before Lil- l lian, so I kept my head down as If l studying the hideous captions upon [ the paper, pretense almost subcon- | scious on my part. For | didn't even [ see the words, that is with my physl- cal eyes, although they were burned 1 into any brain as if with a branding 1 iron, ready to come back to me at
 any moment when I should dare to | think of them The immediate effeect
 of the hideous threats, however, was 1 to numb and to blind me, while my 1 brain. as I have heard that of a l drowning person does, flashed back l ward over the tragic years of my fla l ther's life.
 Until after my little mothers death l and my own marriage I never had seen the father, whose probable pass 1 ing out of life had been heralded to l me in so sinister a manner A great 1 wrong to my mother and to me was l the reason for this. My father had 1 deserted my mother, had run away ! with her dearest friend when I was | but years old. How bitterly he had 1 repented and expiated that wrong l