The L'Anse sentinel. (L'Anse, L.S., Mich.) 18??-current, 1920-09-03


AS they sat toying with their food.
their eyes commanding the entire
room. they saw woman swing into
the cafe entrance and enter the booth
directly ahead of them.
LA Ruei" whispered Willis to Miss
Donovan. =.
Ten minutes later a young man
entered the cafe. swept II quickly with
his eyes. then made directly for the
enclosure occupied by his inamorata.
The man was Cavendish.
In the booth behind. Miss Donovan
and Willis were all attention. their
ears strained to catch the wisps Of
conversation that eddied over the low
partition.
"Wel. Tn here" It was Johns
voice; an ill-humored voice. too. "But
this is the last time, Celeste. These
meetirgg gre dangerous"
"Yes-when you talk 50 loud" Her
soft voice scarcely reached the listen
ers. "But this time there was good
reason" She laughed. "You didn't
think 1t was love, did you. deary|
"Oh, cut that out! disgustedly.
"You want more money, suppose"
"Wen. of course" her voice harden
ing. Naturally feel that / should
share In your good fortune. But the
amount want now, and must have
to-night-to-night, John Cavendish--is
not altogether for myself. I've heard
from the West"
"My GodI Has he been locatedT
"Yes, and is safe for the present.
! Here. read this telegram. It's not very
clear, but Beaton wants money and
asks me to bring It."
"You? why does he need your"
'Lack of nerve, guess; he's out Of
his element IN that country. If It was
the Bowery he'd do this sort Of job
better. Anyhow, I'm going, and
| want a roll. We can't either Of us
afford to lie down now"
Cavendish half smothered an oath.
GLOW much do you want?"
| "Ten thousand. I'm willing enough
| to split fifty-fifty. This Colorado job
is getting to be expensive. deary.
wouldn't dare draw on you through
the banks"
In the back booth Willis muttered:
"Gad. things are going great" Then
he bent his ear to sedulous attention
and again he could hear the voice of
| Cavendish.
you've got to tell me what you're
going to do with the money" It said.
| The La Rue woman's answer could
not be heard; evidently It was whis-
pered one, and therefore OF utmost
Importance. Came pause. a clink Of
| glasses. and then q few struggling
words filtered over the partition.
| "But IL the man should talk !"
| Forget 1t! Ned Beaton Is an oys-
ter. Besides, I've got the screws on
him. Come on, Johnnie boy. don't be
fool. We are in this game and must
| play 1t out. 1t has been safe enough
so far, and know what / am doing
now. You've got too much at stake to
haggle over few thousand, when the
money has come to you as easily as
this has. Do get the money!
4 hit huNO uNCCutu, Ills NOtCt
no longer rose to a high pitch. Pres
emily, when the orchestra began play
Ing again, Miss Donovan and Willis
judged the pair were giving their atten-
ton to the dinner. Finally, after an
hour had passed. Cavendish emerged
from the booth, went to the check
| room, and hurriedly left the cafe.
Waiting only long enough to satisfy
herself that Cavendish was gone,
Celeste La Rue herself emerged from
the booth and paused for a moment
beside its bamboo curtains. Then
turning suddenly. she made her way.
not toward the exit Of the cafe, but to
another small booth near the check
room, and into this she disappeared.
But before she had started this short
| journey, a yellow piece of paper, closely
folded, slipped from her belt where
II had been tucked.
'It's the telegram! The one of
which they were speaking" Miss
Donovan's voice whispered dramati-
cally as her eyes swept the tiny clue
within their ambit.
| At her words Willis was out of the
booth. AS Miss Donovan watched. she
saw him pass by the folded evidence.
What was wrongs? But, no-suddenly
she saw his handkerchief drop. saw
him an instant later turn and pick II
up, and with It the telegram. Disap-
pearing In the direction Of the mems
room. he returned a moment later.
paid the check. and with Miss Donovan
on his arm left the cafe.
Outside, and three blocks away from
Steinway's. they paused under an arc
light, and with shaking hands willis
showed her the message. There, In the
fickering rays, the girl read its torn
and yet enlightening message:
dorado, May 10, 1915,
him safe. Report and collect.
come with roll Monday sure
We seen papers. Remember Haskell.
"NED."
TITS terribly cryptic. Jerry" she said
to the other. but two things we know
from II ~