Cresco plain dealer. (Cresco, Howard County, Iowa) 1913-1945, 1919-07-18

again went to the hammock to rest
and think. He heard the landlady In
the distance scolding the new maid
for her untidiness. you let papers
blow all over when you empty the
waste baskets. Please be more care
full in the future"
The little girl came to sit with him
again. In her narrow life her moth
er's dodgers meant the world. She
spoke Of several Of the artists and
their work, then: "Have you seen
Evangeline Morton? She's awful
pretty, think"
rs she an artist, too?" asked Arm
strong, beginning TO hate himself for
tracking down the glorious creature.
mo, she doesn't paint. She just
stays in her room all day and goes
out nights. She swims on moonlight
nights and goes out In boat"
That's when she meets her con-
federates," thought Armstrong.
The more he realized it was his
duty to uncover the plot and save a
defenseless old man from death, the
more he realized that he hated to
spy on the girl.
That night he waited in his room
with the door open until he heard her
start down the stairs.
"One moment, Miss Morton. please;
l think these letters belong to you"
He handed her the scraps Of paper he
had found on the lawn.
She flushed scarlet when she took
them from him and, with q curt
"Thank you," hurried down the stairs.
"She will realize now that I know,
and will, Of course, leave at once"
Several days passed with Evange-
line Morton living her life as usual
all day in her room and going out at
night.
His plan had failed, SO he decided
to tell her.
He passed restless day in the
hammock, hating himself for what he
was forced to do. Then he would
dream Of a beautiful face and Of how
it might have been If the girl was
what she seemed instead Of a GRIM
inal.
In all his thirty years he had not
thought seriously Of women, and now
he had found his ideal only to have
fate laugh In his face.
He dined early and hurried back to
his hammock, which gave view OF
the front door. When 1t was quite
dark he saw the graceful. slender fig
ure he had unconsciously learned to
admire emerge from the door and
walk rapidly up the street.
1T may be tonight" he thought as
he followed her. He had purposely
put on a dark suit, while she, much
to his surprise, was in white. She
went along for few blocks and then
struck out for an old pier. Going to
the end of it, she sat down.
Armstrong could see her distinctly,
while he himself was in the shadow
Of an old sail loft.
"This is where she meets her con-
federates," he thought, peering across
the water to see If they were coming
by boat. She sat silent and still for
nearly an hour, then began walking
up and down the pier. She looked out
at sea more as If she were admiring
the beauty Of the night than planning
q miserable murder.
Desperately. he decided to tell her.
He had done all he could to Jet her
slip quietly away, and she still stayed.
He walked toward her. She turned
startled gaze when he came near.
"Good evening, Miss Morton" he
said.
Good evening"" she replied.
II have something important to say
to you"
"Yes?"
"You remember the parts Of letters
I returned to you?"
yves"
II read them"
"WellT'
"Now 1 know why you are here.
You came secretly, but I found you
out"
"And now l don't care" She
reached her arms out to the stars. II
have succeeded in my plan and l am
going home"
"Succeeded!" gasped John.
Eyes, l sent my mystery story to an
editor last week and he accepted by
return mail. I am too, too happy! l
know 1 could never get time to write
at home. I have so many Interrupt
lions, and this place Is so quiet l can
write all day long. I came with two
of my friends who are painting. Now
that I am a real author the family |
won't dare interrupt me when !
write"
ALLOW me to congratulate YOU"
said John.
you're New Yorker, aren't your"
she asked with seeming irrelevance.
Il am" He was still dazed.
Maybe you know my cousin, Owen
Welpton2'
Il do! do! You mean the famous
author?"