Evening star., 1921-10-12
FROM NOW ON
Continued from Yesterdays starr
BY FRANK L. PACKARD.
Copyright, 1871. BY Public Ledger Cs.
Copyright, 1891, BY 4. r. Davis oosY.

Ezzz5gEEzzzzsz |.
CONTINUED from Yesterdays Starr
But it was not so easy to throw
! the police definitely of the trail. as
Nicolo Capriano himself had said He,
Dave Henderson, was ready to agree
! in that with the crafty old Italian;
and, even after these few hours,
| cooped up In here, he was even more
| the mere hiding of himself away from
; the police was utterly abortive as Tar
| as the accomplishment of any con-
, elusive end was concerned.
1t was far from easy; though, act
| impatience, the old italian had in
| spired him with faith as being more
than match for the police, and
| yet
He gnawed at his lips. He. too.
| he, too, had tried to find some way,
some loophole that would enable him,
! once he went out into the, open
| again. to throw Barjan, and all that
! Barjan stood for, conclusively and
forever of his track. And the more
he had thought Of it. the more in
| surmountable the difficulty and SEEM
ing impossibility of doing SO had
| become. 1t had even shaken his faith
| a little in Nicolo Capriano's foxlike
!
sion. He couldn't, for instance, live
/ all his life In disguise. That did very
| Wen perhaps as piece OF hction.
| but practically it offered very little
| attraction!
! He frowned-and laughed a little
harshly at himself. He was illogical
| again. He had asked only for three
! or four days, for fighting chance,
! just time enough to get on Mtllmans s
trail, hadn't he? And now he was
| ORC fFrY q kayof nd
ing safe-conduct from the police. and
| his brain mulled and toiled with that
! objective clone in view. and he stood
| here now employed in gnawing his
or see how Nicolo Capriano could
find 1t. either. He shrugged his
shoulders. AS we'll dismiss that! If
I he could but reach Millman-and, aft
! er Millman. Rookie Skarvan--just to
pay the debts he owed, them
His hand that had curled into a
clenched fist. with knuckles showing
; like white knobs under the tight
! stretched skin, relaxed, as, following
A low, quick knock at the door, En-
| manuel stepped into the room.
{ Il gotta da message for you from
| Eicolo," Emmanuel announced; AN /
| gotta da letter for you from Nicolo,
i too. You get-a damn sick staying IN
! here. eh: Well. Eicolo say you go
| to his place see him tonight. We
take-a da car by-an-by, an 60"
| That's the talk, Emmanuel said
/ Dave Henderson. with terse hearth
ness You're all right. Emmanuel.
| and SO is-your room and your grub.
F., but a little fresh air is what / am
! looking for, and the sooner the bet
: teri"
! He took the envelope that En-
manuel extended, crossd over to the
| lamp and turned his back on the
| other. as he ripped the envelope open.
Nicolo Capriano's injunction had been
, to say nothing to Emmanuel. and
| He was staring blankly at the front
| page of the evening newspaper, all
that the envelope contained; and
| him. And then he caught his breath
| sharply. He was either crazy or his
eyes were playing him tricks. A
thrill that he suppressed by an al
thrill that tore and fought at the re-
straint he put upon it, because he
was afraid that the mad, insane up
lift that 1t promised was but some
fantastic hallucination. swept over
drawn around the captions of one
of the columns; and three written
words, connected to the circle by
another pencil stroke, leaped UP at
him from the margin Of the paper:
He felt the blood surginE upward
! in his veins to beat like the blows
| of a trip hammer at his temples. The
words were not blurred and running
| together any more, the captions, IN
f; stead, inside that circle, seemed to
! stand out in such huge, startling type
that they dominated the entire page:
| Man Blown to Pieces
| BY Bomb Identified
Mystery Is Explained
! Dave Henderson, Ex-Convict,
/ Victim, Of His Own
i Murderous Intentions
! shoulder Behind him, Emmanuel
was clatteringly piling up the supper
| dishes on the tray. He turned
/, again to the newspaper and read
Nicolo caprianos story; all OF ~ 1t
man Ignace Ferroni and his bomb:
Nicolo Capriano, for all his age and
'infrmity. was still without his peer
in craft and cunning! The ingenious
stamped the utterly false as beyond
the shadow of q suspicion that 1t, too.
was not as genuine as the connecting
links that held the fabric together.
He warmed to the old italian. an al
most hysterical admiration upon him him
jtranscending all other emotions was
! the sense Of freedom. It surged upon
him, possessing him; It brought ex-
ihjlaration, and it brought a grim. un-
holy vista of things to come-a goal
within possibility Of reach now-Mili-
man first, and then Bookie Skarvan.
He was free-free as tho air. He was
dead. Dave Henderson had passed
out Of the jurisdiction of the police.
TO the police he was now but a
imemory-he was dead.
"You are dead" A queer tight
smile thinned his lips, as his eyes fell
again upon tho penciled words at
the margin Of, the paper.
| "Its no wonder they never got