The Beaver herald. [volume] (Beaver, O.T. [Okla.]) 1895-1923, 1919-07-31
Scraps From the
Waste Basket
3, Lillian HALL CROWLEY

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John Armstrong sighed pleasanfly
as he dropped into the hammock
His eyes wandered over sthe lawn
and across the street 10 tho bay be-
/ yonc: the beautiful shimmerinz wa
ter. the blue sky above and the quaint
~ charming houses along the street
protected by towering elms.
At last be had come away from the
rush Of business; the noise Of the city
and the endless engagements to take
a much needed rest In the quiet little
village.
Here he coua rest to his hearts
content No one was In a hurry. No
one had lofty ambitions. Just to get
through each day. one Ike another.
and for recreation dance in the
town hall where every one was well
come.
He certainly did need the rest, he
thought Why, his nerves were calm
er already. Not a thing here to jar
them In little while be would don
Q bathing suit and go Into the de-
HcOus salt water. No big waves even
TO thrill him Just enough OF 0 swell
TO make him keenly enjoy the trouble
Of going IN Then a delicious nap
when be became as drowsy as IL he
were drugged And he would be
crugged, too, By the restful beauty OF
Il ALL.
Oh. yes. life was good again He
would 90 back to Wall street a new
naD-but now he wouldn't think Of
business He would put away all ex-
element and enjoy the present.
Just then a little. flirting breeze.
one more vigorous than any Of her
companions. waited a piece Of paper
right at his feet He looked at IL
carelessly-ihen was attracted by the
beauty Of the handwriting. He picked
IL up. 1t was evidently letter With
top and bottom torn of the page.
II certainly was beautiful writing
and he read few words. II was only
a scrap. and even II IL were some
ones letter IL could not be impor-
tant or IT would not be blowing about.
OF course. II was anybody's now.
Still admiring the writing he read on
And now. Eyangeline, have the kid
be at the house for some practical
purpose before he robs and murders
the old man; otherwise your idea is
q good one. Let me know daily how
you are getting on. Good-by.
OWEN"
Armstrong leaped TO a sitting posi-
tion- What foul plot was this, and
who was Evangeline! The paper was
new, 50 some one must be planning q
murder right Dow-ihis very minute.
He dropped back In the hammock.
He saw HIS duty plainly-he must foil
this she-devil ,Evangeline. Evange-
line! What a name for a murderess,
More suitable for pure and beauti-
ful woman. What could he dor
Nothing!
Stiil-he could be on the alert. He
looked about the lawn for more scraps
of paper. and was rewarded in his
search by another torn piece. same
writing. same paper. He read:
Yes, Evangeline, you have done
wisely to choose such a quiet place.
and am sure you will succeed in your
plans No one here suspects
Eyangeline again. The name was
all he had to go on. He would walk
about. talk to people and listen for the
name.
His landlady's little daughter came |
to sit with him In the hammock. They |
had become good friends In the past |
week.
Tell me-" he said to the child. do
you ever have robberies here. or any
thing Of the kindr
"Oh. no." she answered, I'VE never
lock our doors. Nobody steals any
That night he tossed about In bed:
The swish Of the waves did not soothe
him as II usually did. II was his duty
10 uncover this crime and he must
hurry or the murderer would sue.
reed.
He was awakened In the morning
BY . giriish voice calling from the
street:
"Evangelinel Get up. you idle
s-eature; here II is high tide and
we're ready for q swim. Come ont!
in a minute" answered q sweet
'oice from the window next to his.
de leaped from his bed. Evangeline
Vas he dreaming or did he hear that
lame?
Why. the creature must be living
n the same house with him. There
we're other lodgers, but be had been
90 taken up With hts own feelings
o notice them. Most OF them were
rtists and were on painting before |.
'e arose. He supposed they did AZ II
'e did In regard to meals-went 10 /.
lfferent places.
He heard door slam and then soft
altering down the stairs. He hurried
0 the window and saw q tall. slender
gure enveloped in n zane hnrrv