The Washington herald., 1921-08-09
THE
FORTUNE
HUNTER
ANeW, Gripping
Romance Serial
BY RUBY AYRES

TOP of a dve-barred gate, his hat
at the back Of his head, idly tap
ping his rather shabby brown boots
with q rough stick which he had
pulled from . hedge.
1t was his eighth-and-twentieth
birthday, and he had exactly eight
snd-twenty shillings In the world.
Perhaps 1t was this fact that was
responsible for the preoccupied look
on his face and his total oblivion
TO the fact that the top Of the gate
was bordered with barbed wire to
the exceeding danger Of his already
well-worn suit. .....
II was . warm evening in early
September. The trees all around
were beginning to be family tinsed
with autumn coloring, and q faint
grey mist was rising from the bed
Of the river which flowed by on the
other side Of the field at his back.
Eight-anr-twenty shillings. The
Fortune Hunter took the coins from
his pocket. looked at them. laughed.
and jingled them back again.
He had been IN many tight cor
nsrs during the past ten years of
his rowing life, and had always
managed to struggle out Of them.
but today somehow his usual opti-
mism seemed to have failed him.
Perhaps IL was the silence all
around that depressed him, for at
any rate he sighed-a most unusual
thing for the Fortune Hunter to do
and passed a hand wearily across
his eyes.
For a fortnight now he had
tramped England, waiting for some
thing to turn up, for he was q
firm believer in his luck. and this
was the first time he had allowed
himself even to consider the pos
sibility that IL might be going to
fail him after all these years.
To begin with, he was hungry,
and hunger makes a man a pessi-
mist more quickly than anything on
earth; but there was a sort of un-
willingness in his heart to break
into that last eight-and-twenty shil-
lings until he was absolutely forced
10 do so.
when things were at their worst,
something always turned up-or
such, at least, had always been the
case with him, and with the sort of
feeling that he must get away from
his thoughts and shake OF his
growing depression, the Fortune
Hunter jumped down from the gate,
and started walking up the road
again.
NJ an .- an5 -. 1ook A
like a gentleman in spite Of the
and his boots wanted heeling. Yet
there was an undeniable air OF
breeding about him, and he walked
with a fine. athletic swing. despite
his weariness.
showed touches of grey here and
there, and his face was burnt by
exposure to sun and weather.
For a fortnight he had slept in
woods or barns, or out in the hedges;
anything served him for a bed; he
had roughed It in all four corners
of the world. and never quarreled
with the pillow provided by cir
cumstance.
A little further on the road forked.
one way leading straight along was
evidently the main road. and the
other, turning into . narrower path.
ultimately ending in q shady wood.
The Fortune Hunter hesitated
then turned into the wood, where
neither heat nor dust had penetrat-
ed and everything was cool and
fresh.
He took of his hat and let the
soft air beat on his forehead. walk
ing mechanically along until sud
denly he tripped and almost fell
over an obstacle half hidden in the
thick bracksn overhanging the mar
row footpath-
The Fortune Hunter recovered
himself and swore good-naturedlyi
glancing down to see what had
tripped him: then his face changed
and he caught his breath on a mutt
tered ejaculation as he saw the
huddled form of a man lying face
downward amongst the green un-
dergrowth. ~
"Drunk!" was his first thought,
and he half moved aside to pass
on Then some Inexplfcable fn-
stfnct restrained him, and, stoopine
down, he pulled the tall bracken
aside, peering more closely at the
PROSTATE figure.
Another second and he was on
his knees beside II. his deft brown
hands feeling under the coat. for
q heartbeat, his tanned face pale
with horror. For the man was dead.
The Fortune Hunter had seen
death too many times TO be mis-
taken. but It gave him an unusual
shock to have come across 1t here
In the heart of . shady English
wood
Turning the dead man gently over
on his back, he looked into his
face. Quite a young face II was
and not unlike his own, he thought
vaguely, with its clean-shayen lips
and smooth skin, from which even
death had not been able to oblit-
crate the tan.
Ito Be Continued.)