Evening public ledger. [volume] (Philadelphia [Pa.]) 1914-1942, 1919-01-11
CHAPTER VI-(Continued)

CdAf En-
TINE scent of heliotrope rose more
l. strongly in the closed room, and
from the handkerchief Philips eyes
turned to the face of Eileen Brokaw,
looking at him from out Of Gregson's
sketch.
1t was a curious coincidence. lie
reached over and placed the picture
face down. Then he loaded his pipe,
and sat smoking, his vision travelling
beyond the table, beyond the closed
IGOR to the lonely black rock where
he had come. upon Jeanne and Pierre.
Clouds Of smoke rose about him, and
he half closed his eyes. lie saw the
girl again, as she stood there; he saw
the moonlight shining in her hair, the
dark. startled beauty of her eyes as
she turned upon him; he heard again
the low sobbing note in her voice as
she cried out her hatred against
Churchill. He forgot Eileen Brokaw
now, forgot in these moments all that
he and Gregson had talked of that
day. His schemes, his fears, his
feverish eagerness to begin he fight
against his enemies died away in
thoughts Of the beautiful girl who had
come into his life this night. 1t
seemed to him now that he had known
her for a long time, that she had been
a part of hin always, and that it was
her spirit that he had been cropping
and searching for, and could never
find. For the space of those few
moments on the cliff she had driven
out the emptiness and the loneliness
from his heart. and there filed him a
wild desire to make her understand,
to talk with her. TO stand shoulder TO
shoulder with Pierre out there in the
night, a comrade.
Suddenly his fingers closed tightly
over the handkerchief. He turned and
looked steadily at Gregson. His friend
was sleeping, with his face to the
wall.
Would not Pierre return to the rock
in search of these articles which his
sister had left behind? The thought
set his blood tingling. He would go
back-and wait for Pierre. But if
Pierre did not return-until tomor-
row?
He laughed softly to himself as he
drew paper toward him and picked
up the pencil which Gregson had used.
For many minutes he wrote steadily.
When he had done, he folded h he
had written and tied it in the handker-
chief. The strip of LACE with which
Jeanne had bound her hair he folded
gently and placed in his breast pocket.
There was a guilty flush in his face
as he stole silently to the door. what
would Gregson say If he knew that
he-Phil Whittemore, the man whom
he had once idealized as The Fighter"
and whom he believed to be proof
against all love of woman-was doing
this thing? He opened and closed the
door softly.
At least he would send his message
to these range people of the wilder
ness. They would know that he was
not a part of that Churchill which
they hated, that in his heart he had
ceased to be a thing of its breed. lie
apologized again for his sudden ap-
pearance on the rock. but the apology
was only an excuse for other things
which he wrote, in which for a few
brief moments he barred himself to
those whom he knew would under
stand, and asked that their acquaint'
ance might be continued.
He felt that there was something
almost boyish in what he was doing
and vet, as he hurried over the ridge
and down into Churchill again, he was
thrilled as no other adventure mad
ever thrilled him before, AS he ap-
preached the cliff he began to fear
that the h~alf-breed would not return
for the things which Jeanne had left,
or that he had already revisited the
rock. The latter thought urged him
on until he was half running. The
crest of the cliff was bare when he
reached it. He looked at his watch
He had been gone an hour.
Where the moonlight seemed TO fall
brightest he dropped the handkerchief
and then slipped back into the rocky
trail that led to the edge of II bay.
He had scarcely reached the strip or
level beach hat lay between him and
Churchill when from far behind him
there came the long howl of a dog
II was the wolf-dog. He knew 1t by
the slow, dismal rising of the cry and
the infinite sadness with which II
az slowly died away until lost In the
whisperings of the forest and the
pentle wash of the sea. Pierre was
returning, He was coming back
Through the forest. Perhaps Jeanne
would be with him.
For the third time Philip climbed
hack to the great moonlit rock at the
top of the cliff. Eagerly he faced the
north. whence the wailing cry Of the
wolf-dog had come. Then he turned to
the spot where he had dropped the
handkerchief, and his heart gave
sudden Jump.
There was nothing on the rock. The
handkerchief was gone!
CHAPTER VII
nHILIP stood undecided, his ear