Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1918-03-03
By MCDONNELL BODKIN

Beck found he had SIN more ehaa ~
hours left TN good time" he mnt-
tered. and siackened speed . little, for
the head wind all day was stin aid
At last, He could just Distinguish
ly and leaped over the railway. He
dropped on at the foot, lifted the BIZ
clcle over the wooden ratings, ana
stood it c,refnliy in the shadow Of the
handlebars and walked with 1t down
to the rails. A faint metallic CLEAN
came from the rails. that stretched
like two threads Of light away into the
darkness.
Mr.. Beck took one OF the sink hGnA~
kerchiefs from the bag and shook out
the folds. He drew the cork OF one
of the oil cans with his teeth. SOAKED
the silk as full as it could hold: then.
bending down over the near rail- he
began smearing the smooth metal
lily and swiftly for more than a hun
dred yards down the steep gradient,
until one can of oil Was exhausted
He crossed the line and came up. mop
ping and daubing the other raf1 from
the other can in the same plentffuI
fashion. Then he took his stand rf9nt
between the rails at the head Of the
gradient, under the bridge. with .
cool night wind sweeping past him.
ST hope I am safe here" he mue~
tered, fright IN the track OF tho mail
train"
Almost NJ he spoke there appe.rsd
q steady white star. distant and lcw.
The wind was blowing almost straight
down the line. Under fun head Of
steam. the engine of the Lightning ex-
press. with a long trailing train behind
in the darkness, came laundering UP
the incline. Then suddenly the wheels
struck the oil There was an instant
change in the roar OF the train; the
rough jar and rattle died out of IT
But the acquired momentum still
forced the huge weight forward. the
wheels sliding like horses hoofs ON
an icy pavement, and taking no grip
on the creased metal The engine came
on slowly and more slowly, until n
was within twenty yards OF where M:
Beck stood at the end OF the CREASED
slope It wavered, stood still for one
long second, and then began. silently
and slowly at nrst. to slip becx
went, The wheels slid helpfessly on the
oiled steel. The engine, like q wounded
monster, shrieked horribly through the
still night. Far away, down NJ the
foot Of the long gradient. the train At
last came to a dead halt. The sound
Of the opening and shutting Of many
doors and the babble of excited voices
struggled family up against the WIND
to the listening Mr.. Beck. He knew
the train was safe for the night 80
he drew his bicycle from its shelter
with an easy mind. and with the wind
at his back went sailing away swiftly
and smoothly along the road he came.
which stretched like a faint gray
streak into the night.
Next day, at $3.50 o'clock, while IT.
Snow. with the deed in his black crI-
skin bag, was still a long fve miles
from Rathcool and was vigorously ours
ing the go-as-you-p1ease light railway.
a very. curious performance was In
progress in the house of lords
The little lord chancellor. with .
cooked hat perched on his huge beehive
wig, was seated on the broad scarlet
woolsack. Two other lords. resp!endent
in scarlet and ermine, were beside MIN.
This Combination company repre-
senated the absent majesty of England.
There were a number of other perform.
ers in a variety of costumes But most
remarkable of all was very tail man.
wearing a wig Of particularly white
horsehair, a long black gown and face
of preternaturaI solemnity. A shorter
man was reading list Of bills which had
passed through the storms of lords and
commons. and were now sailing peace.
fully into port As each title was read
the tall man jerked himself half around.
like an automaton on springs, bowed
to the empty throne. and with the me-
tallic twang of a photograph uttered
the magic formula that converted the
bill into an act of parliament
THE voluntary conveyances bill" read
the short man.
lie Roi lie veut." jerked out the tall
man.
In that second the bill was an act, an
integral part of the law Of the land,
and the rights of little Miss Florence
Burton were secure.
All that afternoon at Mount Eagle
Miss Trixie Mordant and Mr.. Jerome
BloOdSmith waited, eagerly eYpect2ut
of kilograms. 1t was well on in the
evening when two pink envelopes ar
rived together, at last. There was but
one word in each message.
Her word was 'Lost"-and his, "woa-s
(Copyrght, 1918, by Mcclure syndirate.l