The Pensacola journal. (Pensacola, Fla.) 1898-1985, 1921-04-03

dergrowth near ny, could see the rush
of color to his cheeks. and in other
| little ways showed his confusion pIain1
ly, the experienced woman of the world
masked hers cleverly.
Under one arm the boy carried a
| large, shakeless bundle done up in
! brown paper. AS he caught sight of
Mrs. Allis he made a quick. clumsy. in.
voluntary effort TO shift his burden be-
! hind his back. Then, evidently realiz-
ing the absurdity of his attempt hs
stood stock still with the bundle held
akwardIy in front of him and his face
the color OF a ripe beet.
We'll, which are you this morning.
Fred or Ned?" Mrs. Allis asked mis-,
chievously, knitting away at the sock
on which she had been ostensibly az
work since the man whom she had
come to the gigantic oak to meet had
left her.
With the remembrance fresh upon
me of the words I had just heard this
woman speak, words which had be-
trayed the plot against the valuable
! collection Of paintings in the Cosgrovd
parlor. IN which she and her accomt
plice were concerned. l marvelled az
her calmness.
I'm Fred" the boy answered truth
fully.
And Fred" the brilliant black eyes
played over the lad maliciousiy,
what's the mysterious bundle you're
so afraid I'm going to see2 Hand ID
over for inspection, sonny. I'm a cus-
toms inspector. No bundle goes BY
this tree unless know its contents"
Her tone and manner were as artiess
asthose of a little girl playing gamel
and 1 knew that she meant to give that
impression to the boy before her. But
could read real curiosity beneath tho
surface Of her teasing and realized
that she meant to ascertain the con-
tents of the package, either because Of
her love of malicious teasing or for
some more cogent reason.
At her words the boy started uneas-
lily, clasped his clumsy bundle closer,
and started back from her. But sha
was too quick foT~him. 1.-the as a cat
she sprang toward him and snatched
lat the bundle, laughing merrily tha
while as if it were the merriest Jest IN
the world.
The boy, plainly torn between thu
desire to keep a knowledge of the bun
dies cOnte from her and a wish rot
to offend her, held on to his burden
stoutly. But in the struggle the paper
IooseUed and its contents tumbled to
the ground.
A.. From where we crouched Dicky and
I could plainly see the contents of she
heavy brown paper wrapping. An art
lists carrying case, of good material,
but much worn with age and hard
usage. fell to the ground and opened,
its lock evidently not having been se-
curely fastened. From it spilled a small
roll of canvas, brushes, tubes of paint,
all the paraphernalia Of an artists
work. There was q similar outfit In
Dicky's room at home, although his il
Illustrating had long relegated It inta
the background.
For once l saw Mrs. Allis taken
aback. She gazed at the carrying casa
as if it were & venomous serpent. Her
face turned white. Then she famed
out fiercely at the boy:
Where did you get THAR"
The conviction came to me that shs
had seen the case before, was, in fact,
familiar with It. But even as sha
spoke. her usual poise came back I'd
her, her face cleared, and clasping tina
wondering boy lightly on the shouldes
she said Iaughingly:
Did I frighten you, Fred?. Well
then, I'm square with you for the many
times you've fooled me as to which
twin you are. 1 know where this case
came from, of course. Your mothee
has spoken so many times about her
brother who painted those pictures Id
the parIor. It is his case, I suppose
On, yes, here are his initials. r.. -
But who is the artist thistime, Frea?l
Her tone was careless, but saw sHs
waited eagerly, watchfully for the lads
reply.
ITO q Cork;n,,oIN