Charlevoix county herald., 1919-05-30
Had I given the pursuers a clue by

Had l given the pursuers a clue BY
my reappearancef
watched for few moments longer.
but the vehicle did not return and I
dismissed the idea as folly. After all,
New York was civilized city, and
could be sure of the girls safety, be-
hind the street door lock and that OF
my apartment door. So / refused to
yield to the impulse to 60 back and
assure myself, that she was all right.
l must find a hotel and get good
nights sleep.
AS / went on new thoughts began
to press on my imagination. The tale
about the father. the assumed igno.
rance of the conventions-how much
could be believed?
Had she not probably left her hus-
band In some Canadian city and come
to New York to enjoy her holiday In
her own fashion? Could she inno-
Gently have adventured to Daly's door
and actually have succeeded In gain
Ing admission?
Perhaps she was worse than was
even now imaginingi
Perhaps, II 1 had not left her--per.
hape, If / turned back / clenched
my fists and hurried on. would not
give rein to the thoughts that were
away horse.
/ had turned up Fifth avenue and
had reached Twelfth or Thirteenth
street when thought heard the pat
ter of the Eskimo dogs feet behind
me. / spun around, startled. but there
was only the long stretch of pavement.
/ had resumed my course when / was
sure heard the pattering again. And
again l saw nothing.
A moment later was hurrying back
toward the apartment house. Ny
nerves had suddenly become unstrung.
/ felt sure now that some imminent
danger was threatening Jacqueline. 1
could not bear the suspense OF wait
Ing till morning.
And as / ran thought / heard the
patter of the dogs feet, pacing mine.
/ was rounding the corner Of Tenth
street now, and again the folly Of my
behavior struck home to me. stopped
and tried to think. Was it some in
stinct that was taking me back, or was
It the remembrance of Jacqueline's
beauty? Was 1t not the desire to see
her, to ask her about the ring?
/ had actually swung around when
/ heard the ghOstly patter Of the feet
again close at my side. I made my
decision In that instant and hurried
swiftly on my course back toward the
apartment house.
When at last 1 found my door my
hands were trembling so that could
hardly fit the key into the lock.
bounded up the stairs. But on the
top story l had to pause to get my
breath, and then 1 dared not enter.
listened outside. There was no sound
from within.
The two rooms that occupied were
separated only by curtain, which fell
short a foot from the floor and was
slung on a wooden pole, disclosing two
feet between the top Of 1t and the
ceiling. The rooms were thus actually
one, and even that might have been
called small, for the bed In the rear
room was not dozen PAGES from the
door.
1 listened for the breathing Of the
sleeping girl. If I could hear her
breathe, 1 thought would 60 quietly
away and find a hotel In which to
sleep. L listened minute after minute,
but 1 could not hear a sound.
At last 1 put my mouth to the key
hole and spoke to her. "Jacqueline,"
I called There was no answer.
Then a little louder: "Jacqueline
And then quite loudly: "JacQue-
line !"
Then, out Of the silence, hammering
on my eardrums. burst the loud tick
ing of the little alarm clock that I
had left on the mantel Of the bedroom.
/ heard that, and 1t must have been
ticking minutes before the sound
reached me; perhaps II 1 waited q
little longer l should hear her breath
ing.
1 took the key Of the apartment
from my pocket at last and fitted II
noiselessly into the lock. 1 stood
there, trembling and irresolute. I
dared not turn the key.
Once more / ventured:
"Jacquelinel JacQueline,"