The Miller press. [volume] (Miller, S.D.) 190?-current, 1920-08-12

any message you send"
II shall not doubt" She held out
her hand frankly. You believe In me
now, Mr.. Westcott?"
Absolutely; indeed l think I al
ways have"
Always think so, please, no mat
ter what happens. | was nearly wild
until ! got the note to you; | was so
afraid you would leave the hotel. We
must trust each other"
He stood before her, his hat in
hand, a strong, robust figure. his
bronzed face clearly revealed; the
sunlight making manifest the gray
hair about his temples. To Miss Dono-
var he seemed all man, instinct with
character and purpose. a virile type
of the out-of-doors.
'To the DEATH" and his lips and
eyes smiled. II believe in you ut
terly."
Thank YOU. Good-by."
He watched her climb the bank and
emerge upon the bridge. He still
stood there, bareheaded, when she
turned ana smiled back at him, wav-
ing her hand. Then the slender fig
ure vanished. and he was left alone.
A moment later, Westcott was strid-
ing up the trail, intent upon a plan
to entrap Lacy.
They would have felt less confident
In the future could they have over
heard a conversation being carried On
In a Dom Of the Timmons house. 1t
was Miss La Rue's apartment, pos
sessing two windows, but furnished in
a style so primitive as to that
fastidious young lady to burst into
laughter when she first entered and
gazed about. Both her companions
followed her. laden with luggage, and
Beaten, sensing instantly what had
thus affected her humor, dropped his
bag on the floor.
Its the best there is here" he pro-
tested. "Timmons has held it for you
three days. If you feel like kicking
about this room, you ought to see some
OF the others-mine. for instance. or
the one Timmons put that other wom-
an in"
'Oh, yes" she said, finding a sea-
and staring at him. "That reminds
me. Did you say there was a girl here
from New York? Sit down, Mr.. En-
right. and let's talk. HOw's the door,
Ned?"
He opened II and glanced out into
the hall. throwing the bolt as he came
back.
"All right, Celeste, but I wouldn't
talk quite so loud the partitions are
not very tight"
pose and she produced a case.
Thanks; now / feel better-certain-
ly, light up. Well, Ned, the first thing
I want to know Is, who Is this other
New York skirt. and how did she hap
pen to blow in here just at this timer"
Beaton completed the lighting Of his
cigar, finging the match carelessly out
OF the window.
"Oh, she's all right" he said easily.
"Just an innocent kid writer for
ScribbIer's who's trying to make good
writing about the beautiful scenery
around here. Her name Is Donovan.
Her fathers a big contractor and has
money to burn"
"Did you ever hear the beat Of that.
Enrighrf Neddy is about to feather
his nest. Wei, go on"
That's about all, ! guess. only she
amt nothiu' you need he afraid Of"
"Sure not. with a watchdog like you
on guard. But II you ask me. / don't
like the idea Of her happening In here
Just at this time. This Is no place
for an innocent child" and she looked
about. her Iip curling. Lord. I should
say not. Do you happen to remember
any New York contractor by that
NAME. Mr.. Enr.ghtY
The refund ls wyer. his feet elevated
on the window-sin. a cigar between
his lips. shock his head in emphatic
dissent.
mot latesy there was a Tim Dono-
van who had a Pull in the subway
excavatioH-he was a Tammany man
hut he died. and wa pever married.
What's the girl look like?"
Rather slender. with brown hair,
sorter eeppery in the ssun. and gray
eyes that grow dark when she's in
terested. About t~wenty-three or four.
I shovld say"
ibid you get her full name?"
Sure; it's or the rvgister-Stella
Donovan"
Enright lowered his feet to the floor.
a puzzled look on his face. his teeth
clinched on his cigar.
"Hold on a bit till I think" ne mut-
tered. THAT sounds mighty familiar
Stella Donovanl BY the Lord, I've
heard that name before somewhere:
an. I have fishes on the New York
Star. I've seen her name signed to
articles In the Sunday edition. TIL
bet she's the girl"
"A New York newspaperwoman ;
well. what do you suppose she Is do
Ing out heref After us?"
Elnright had a grip on himself again
and slowly relit his cigar. leaning
hack, and staring out the window. His
mind gripped the situation coldly.
"Well. we'd best be careful he said
slowly. sProhahly it's merely a colin