The Hays free press. [volume] (Hays, Kan.) 1908-1924, 1920-08-12

pered in the roaring pits of the world.
Con had never been one to wait for
temptation. AS the reticence of child
hood had been rubbed away, and be
fore mans dignity had come TO him,
he had been famously ready. He had
scaled the walls around the garden of
Illusion, battered his way joyfully
along its paths, and plunged into every
alluring pool. He had found its
promises worthless, and had aged in
dozen years. His inner prompting
had taken false lead, but he had no
regrets With help he had at length
found his way out into the clean and
cooling winds Of humanity. He had
discovered again the treasures of
small-tOwn bOyhoOd. the satisfaction
of open fields, the sun in his eyes.
Morning air on the slopes was wine
to him. In the blue rush Of the sea
he tried his strength, and found it
sufficient. These were what he had
wanted all the while. But the guide
posts had all pointed the other way.
Cecil Wedger's invitation to dinner
was part, of a plan. The loquacious
Wedger sprout had no notion that he
was being used. Nor did Con feel
guilty in the deception, for he was
stepping into a work that claimed all
his best energies.
The Chinese servant entered like
living shadow bringing fresh coffee.
Cecil made his own cup into a gloria
by brfmming it with brandy. Loving
ton smiled and waved the bottle away.
This was not so easy as it appeared.
His nOstrils twitched at the fragrance
from his hosts cup. Perhaps the
Chinese understood, for he nodded
gravely. Now Cecil. to show his
democratic spirit, spoke to the servant,
very nearly as one man might address
another:
"Chee Ming. what do you think of
chap who turns deacon and won't
drink anything at the age of twenty
five"
The Chinese countenance unfolded
a few more small wrinkles near the
nose. and a light appeared in the mar
row eyes, as Chez Ming made reply,
Doubtless wise"
Deacon is hardly the word" de-
clared the young man of twenty-five.
''DeacOns are a thirsty brotherhood"
Cecil considered this remarkable
humor. He was glad he had asked
Lexington to come.
The servants face was the yellow
gray of sun ner dust, and when the
light of a moment vanished from his
eyes, they became smooth wet stones.
His body was spare, a kind of IN
naturally prolonged youth in 1t; and
Cecil, TO publish his own magnanimity
and good taste, had insisted that Chez
Ming continue to robe in native dress,
a loose blOusing smOck with white
sash and narrow straight trousers.
Chez Ming was secured and brushed
clean. He was not young, had never
been young, and possibly would never
grow old. A power that was wire
nerved and psychic radiated from his
motionless form. The essence of sober
cunning showed in his countenance;
ages Of calm iniquity had wrought in
the lore of his soul; his was a face
impossible to read, while a well-tamed
scorn Iurked In his hands. He
smoothly retired TO the pantry.
81 was telling you about my little
friend. wasn't II" resumed Cecil, liven-
ing to the task.
Eyes," replied his guest, ''you were
going to show me her picture"
"Pinkest little thing you ever saw"
asserted the pride Of the Wedgers.
Coffee won't be enough for you when
you see"
Cecil left tie table and FASTENED for
the photograph of his newest darling.
Con heard him whistling as he went
up through the deserted mansion.
Alone in the dining-room, Con also
arose from the table. The tension
about his eyes was more marked.
Half smile drew at his mouth, a
close-gathering Of faculties. He went
to the door Of the buffers pantry, and
passed on through.
In the low light beyond was Chez
Ming, taking care Of the silver. The
face was Swallowed, showing neither
surprise nor interest at the approach
of Lexington; yet one bony hand
moved along the shelf toward the
handle of the bread-knife. The
two men came together as swiftly as
struggling phantoms.
Chez Ming was built OF live tendons
The bread-knife came around in the
grip Of yellow fingers closer over Lev
ington's stomach, but could not go on.
Con pinioned his arms and, with
pang OF regret bent him backward
with a force that might have snapped
white mans spine, but the Chinese
would not be broken. Neither uttered
sound. An instant they locked.
Their feet seemed fast to the floor.
Then, under necessity, the white young
man forgot to be tender-hearted, q
quick gasp Of pain came from the
Oriental lips and Chez Mings weapon
ratified to the floor. The victim sighed
and crumpled in Levfngton's arms
On the floor he quivered, while the
victor plunged a hand into the blouse
and searched. Against the skin Con
touched a tiny packet OF leather, warm
and soft and precious He snapped
the throng, withdrew It, stood erect
and listened Cecil was humming as he
returned. Lexington released the vel
low hands that weakly held one ankle,
lifted himself out at the pantry
window. and (irODDed into fhe bushes