The Washington herald., 1921-08-10
THE
FORTUNE
HUNTER
ANew, Gripping
Romance Serial
BY RUBY AYRES

He wore rough tweed suit that
looked rather Colonial In cut. and
a soft grey hat lay a little distance
OF In the bracken.
The Fortune Hunter rose to his
feet and stood looking around him
with a feeling Of heipiessness.
What ought he to do? Inform the
police, he supposed. He turned his
eyes again to the still form At mis-
feet. -,
had come peacefully enough. for the
face was quite calm and unlined BY
pain and the lips little parted as
il in sleep
II only someone would come
along! The Fortune Hunter had no
idea how far he was from the near
est village, but he was turning to
retrace his steps to, the main road,
when he caught sight Of . bulky
package lying almost at his feet
He stopped and picked II up. 1t
was a shabby leather pocketbook,
held together by an elastic band
and bulging with papers or letters.
The Fortune Hunter turned IL
Over . IhChs win AAANAC
shrug Of the shoulders, he pulled on
the band and glanced through the
contents.
There were a lot of pencil notes
that seemed to relate to nothing in
particular, and jottings Of various
sums of money; a few letters, all in
the same writing; an old photo
graph of a girl with hair tumbling
about her shoulders; and on the fly
leaf of the pocketbook a name, evil
IDENTIFY the name of the dead man,
written in a sprawly hand:
John Smith"
The Fortune Hunter smiled grim
ly. He had known many John
Smiths" in his wanderings. but sell
dom had il been the rightful name
Of the man who claimed it; and IL
was with the idea Of finding some
further means. of Identification that
he unfolded one of the letters and
glanced casually through II.
II was obviously written BY a
woman and bore a date four months
previous:-
NY Dear John
Il know you will think that I
Rave been a long time answering
your last letter, but now you will
SO soon be home again I am be-
ginning to be afraid.
Ten years is a long time-and
was only IS when you went away.
Supposing you don't like me any
more? Supposing I don't like you?
Oh, know there has been nobody
else for either of us since, but am
afraid all the same. was a child
when you went away. and now
am a woman, though I don't feel so
very much older. except when look
back on the days with you and
realize how far away they really
are.
You must be patient with me.
won't your Don't expect too great
things from me at first, although in
spite Of the fear. I am longing to
see you, and somehow in my heart
think-I feel sure-it will be all
right. shan't write
again-you will be home before you
could get another letter. So it's
just au revoir. dear.-Anne"
The Fortune Hunter shrugged his
shoulders and glanced again at the
heading on the paper:
Cherry Lodge. Somerton-on-
Thames"
Not so far away then, He had
vague idea that he had seen a
signpost to Somerton as he had
tramped the last weary mile. He
thrust the letters and shabby case
into his pocket and turned on to
the main road.
Somehow. in my heart I feel
sure 1t will be all right" The
words echoed through his mind
rather piteously.
We'll, whoever Anne" was, the
dreaded meeting with John smith
would never take place now, for
John Smith lay dead in the silent
wood, with the tall bracken bend
ing above him.
Odd how deserted the road was.
Tt stretched before the Fortune
Hunter dusty and empty as he
duickened his tired steps. anxious
now to be rid Of the responsibility
Of his discovery. But in half a
mile he had failed to meet one
pedestrian. though the road had
curled about until it had brought
him parallel with the river, flowing
silently by. bathed in the. late
evening light.
Some distance ahead the figure of
a girl in punt was clearly
siihouetted against the sky, and the
Fortune Hunter gave a little growl
Of satisfaction as he realized that
he could not now be far from a
village.
He watched the girl with a curf-
ous sense Of satisfaction: she ana
the quiet river scene were so tyni-
eaily English, and he felt ali AZ
once how good IL was to be home
aEain-if one could call a country
home wherein a man had neftber
friends nor money.
The girl wore a white frock with
short sleeves, and the rays OF the
sinking sun glittered on her hair
turning 1t to gold, as her slim bod
roved with slow grace, propelline
tAe little punt upstream.
There was someone with her-a
man or boy. The Fortune Hunter
could not be sure which for the
agure was STOPPING over the side
OF the punt, watching something in
the water; and across the SILENTLY :
hewtng river the man on the road
way could hear their voices dis
tinotly through the still evening.
If you'd only sit still, Tommy.
You can't reach them-do, please. I"
And then came a shrill scream and
a stihed cry. as the punt seemed to
lLrch violently.
The girl swayed dangerously.
only recovering herself with a tre-
mendous effort, but the other figure
-trmbled headlong into the water.
without apparently making the
least attempt to save itself.
Serves him rightr' thought the