The weekly Iberian. (New Iberia, La.) 1894-1946, 1920-09-04
Copyright By Randall Parrish


AS she heard him clatter down the
stairs Miss Stella Donovan Of the
New York Star knew that her visit
would not be in vain.
The miner waited, leaning against
the desk. Timmons came down the
stairs, eager to ask questions.
Lady friend o. yours, Jim" he
asked. IF I'd a knowed she wus
comm I'd saved better ROOM"
II have never seen her until tonight,
Pete. She got off the train and Car
son asked me to escort her uptown--it
was dark, you know"
What do you suppose she's come
we're for?"
mot the slightest idea; l take it
that's her business"
Sure; but a Teller can't help won
derin', can he7 Donovan" he unused,
peering at the name; "that's Irish, 1
take it-heyT'
"Suspiciously SO; you are some de-
tective, Pete. I'll give you another
clue-her eyes are Irish gray"
He sauntered across to the stove,
and stood looking idly at the card
players, blue wreaths of tobacco smoke
circling up from the bowl Of his pipe.
Some one opened the street door, let
ting in a babel Of noise, and walked
heavily across the Office floor. West
colt turned about to observe the new
conner. He was a burly, red-faced
man, who had evidently been drinking
heavily, yet was not greatly under the
influence Of liquor, dressed in a
checked suit of good cut and fashion,
but hardly in the best of taste. He
bore all the earmarks of CONNER
cial traveller Of certain sort-a domi-
neering personality, making up by
sheer nerve what he might lack in
brains. But for his words the miner
would have given the fellow no further
thought.
"Say, Timmons," he burst forth
nOisily, and striding over to the desk,
"the marshal tells me dame blew in
from New York tonight-is she regis
tered here"
The landlord showed the book for
ward, with one finger on the last sig
nature.
"Yep," he said shortly, "but she amt
the one you wuz lookin' for-I asked
her that, furst thing"
":Stella Donovan-huh That's no
name ever / heard; what's she look
like? Dark or light"
"Waal, sorter medium, I should say !;
brown hair with bit O. red in it, an
pair O. gray eyes full of fun-some
girl, to my notion"
The questioner struck his fist on the
wood sharply.
"Well, what the devil do you sup
pose such a woman has come to this
hole clear from New York for, Tim
mons? What's her game, anyhow"
BLESSED If l know" and the pro-
prietor seated himself on high stool
II didn't ask no questions like that !;
maybe the gent by the stove there
might give yer all the information yer
want. He brought her up from the de-
poo, an kin talk English. Say, Jim,
this yere is shorthorn frum New
York, named Beaton, an he seems ter
be powerfully interested in skirts
Beaton, Mr.. Jim Westcott."
The two men looked at each other,
the miner stepping slightly forward.
and knocking the ashes out Of his
pipe. Beaton laughed, assuming a
semblance Of good nature.
my questions were prompted sole
ly by curiosity" he explained, evil
IDENTIFY not wholly at ease. Il was ex-
pecting a young woman, and thought
this new arrival might prove to be my
friend"
Hardly" returned Westcott dryly.
"As the landlord informed you, Miss
Donovan is lady,"
If he expected this shot to take eff
feet he was disappointed, for the grin
never left Beaton's face.
"Ah, a good joke; very good joke,
indeed. But you misunderstood this
is altogether a business matter. This
young woman whom l expect is COM
ing here on a mining dealt is not
love affair at all, assure you.'
II thought possibly you might care
to question me regarding my acQuaint-
ance with the young womanw West
colt went on, his voice hardening
slightly. IF SO, have not the slight
est objection to telling you that it con.
sists entirely Of acting as her escor
from the station to the hotel. do not
know why she is here, how long she
intends staying, or what her purpose
may be. Indeed, there is only one fact
l do know which may be of interest to
YOU"
Beaton, surprised by the language
OF the other, remained silent, his face
turning purple, as a suspicion came to
him that he was being made fool of.
1T Is this, my friend-who she is,
what she is, and why she happens to
be here, is none Of your d-n busi-
ness, and If you so much as mention
her name again in my presence you
are going to regret it to your dying
day. That's all"
Beaton, glancing about at the uplift-
ed faces Of the card players. chose to
assume an air Of Indifference, which
scarcely accorded with the anger in
his eyes.
"Ah, come now" he blurted forth, Il