The Washington times., 1919-04-19
CHAPTER XIV.
A Journey Begins.

1t was a five-hour trip. He dined
aboard the train with little desire
for food, the July evening being op-
pressiye. and thunderstorm
brewing over the Hudson. It burst
in the vicinity OF Fishkill with a
lively display OF lightning. delug
ing the Catskills with rain. And
when he changed to a train on the
Mohawk division the cooler air was
agreeably noticeable.
He changed trains again at
Orangeville. and here the night
breeze was delightful and the scent
OF rain-soaked meadows came
through the open car window.
II was nearly 10 o'clock and al
ready. ahead, he caught sight Of
the lights Of NeelaEd's Mills. Al
ways the Homecoming was a keen
delight to him; and now, as he
stepped off the train, the old IA
miliar odors were in his nostrils-
where the unique composite per-
fume of the native place which
never can be duplicated elsewhere.
All the sweet and aromatic and
homely smells Of earth and land
and water came to him with his
first deep drawn breath. The rank
growth of wild flowers and weeds
were part Of 1.-THE flat atmOs-
phere of the mill pond. always
redolent OF water weed and lily
pads, tinctured it: distant fields
OF buckwheat added heavier fer
fume
Neither in the quaint brick feed
mill nor in the lumber mill were
there any lights, but in his own
home, almost buried among tall
trees and vines. the light streamed
from the sitting-room windows
From the dark yard two or three
dogs barked at him., then barked
again in a different key, voicing an
excited welcome: and he opened the
picket gate and went up the path
surrounded by demonstrative set
ters and pointers, leaping and wag-
ging about him and making a vast
amount of noise on the Vine-cov-
cred veranda as he opened the
door. let himself into the mouse.
and shut them out
Il Cordially Greeted.
Hello. dad"' he said, crossing
swiftly TO where his father sat
Their powerful grip fingered.
Old Dick Neeland. ruddy, white
haired, straight as a pine, stood up
in his old slippers and quilted
smoking coat, his brier pipe poised
in his left hand.
splendid, Jim. I've been think
ing about you this evening" He
might have added that there were
II Nrh
not in his thoughts.
Are you all right, dad
Absolutely You are. too, I see"
They seated themselves.
Hungry. Jim"
NO: / dined aboard"
You didn't telegraph me-
NO; I came at short notice"
Cant you stay
Dad, I have a drawinE-rOOm re
served for the midnight tonight,
and l am sailing on the Volhynia
tomorrow at Q in the morning"
God bless me. Why, Jim?"
Dad. I'll tell you all l know
about it,"
His father sat with brier pipe
suspended and keen blue eyes fixed
on his son. while the son told
everything he knew about the rea-
son for his flying trip to Paris.
you see how it is. don't
YOU. dad he ended. The
Princess has been a good and loyal
friend to me She has used her in
fiuence; I have met, through her.
the people ought to know, and
they have given me work to do.
I'm in her debt: I'm under real
obligation to her. And I've got to
go that's all"
Old Dick Neeland's clear eyes OF
A sportsman continued to study his
sons face.
At Loss for Explanation.
yes. you've got to 60" he said.
He smoked for a few moments,
then: What the devil does it
mean. anyway? Have you any no
tion, JIM
NO. | haven't. There seems to
be some military papers in this
box that is mentioned. Evidently
they are OF value to somebody.
Evidently other people have got
wind Of that fact and desire to OBJ
tain them for themselves. 1t al
most seems as though something is
brewing over .there-trouble Of
some sort between Germany and
some other nation. But 1 haven't
heard OF anything
His father continued TO smoke
for a while. then:
There Is something brewing
over there, Jim
Il haven't heard" repeated the
young man.