New-York tribune., 1921-01-23

chioness of Ireton. DOES this sug-
gest anything TO your mind?"
Nothing whatever" said blankly
"Nor to mine," murmured Harley.
The telephone bell rang.
"Hullo!" called Harley. eyes.
That you, Wessex? Have you got
the address? Good. No, i shall re-
member it. Many thanks. Goodby.n
He turned to me. II suggest
knox," he said, "that we make our
call and then proceed to dinner as
arranged"
SINCE 1 was always glad of an op-
portunity of studying my friends
methods, I Immediately agreed, and
before long, leaving the lights OF
the two big hotels behind, our cab
WAS gliding down the long slope
which leads to Waterloo Station.
Thence through crowded, slummish
highroads we made our way via
Lambeth to that dismal thorough
fare, Westminster Bridge Road,
with it's forbidding, often window
Rless houses and its peculiar air of
desolation.
The house for which we were
bound was situated at no great dis
tance from Remington Park, and,
telling the cabman to wait, Harley
and l walked up q narrow, paved
path, mounted fight of steps and
rang the bell beside a somewhat
time-worn door, above which was
an old-fashioned fanlight dimly H.
Illuminated within.
A considerable interval elapsed
before the door was opened by a
marvelously untidy servant girl, who
had apparently been interrupted in
the act of blackleading her face.
Partly opening the door, she stared
at us agape, pushing back wisps of
her hair from her eyes, and with
every Vovement daubing more Of
some mysterious black substance
upon her countenance.
els Mr.. hampton in?" asked Har-
ley.
''Yus, just come in. I'm cookin'
his supper"
"Tell him that two friends of his
have called on rather important
business"
"All right.p said the black-faced
one. "What name is it?"
"No name. Just say two friends
Of his"
Treating US to a long, vacant
stare and leaving US standing on the
step, the maid {in whose hand ! per-
ceived a greasy fork) shuffled along
the passage and began to mount the
stairs. An unmistakable odor of
frying sausages now reached my
nostrils. Harley glanced at me quiz
zically, but said nothing until the
Cinderella came stumbling down.
stairs again.
GO up" she directed. "Second
floor, front. Shut the door, one of
yer"
! She disappeared into gloomy
depths below as Harley and I, clos
ing the door behind us, proceeded to
avail ourselves of the invitation.
There was very little light upon the
staircase, but we managed to find
our way to a poorly furnished bed
room where small table was spread
for meal. Beside the table, in a
chintz covered armchair, a thick-set
young man was seated smoking q
cigarette, a copy of The Daily Tele-
graph upon his knee.
he was a very typical lower mid
die class, nothing in particular
young man, but there was a certain
turbulence indicated by his square
jaw, and that sort of possession
which sometimes accompanies 1~',ys
ical strength, was evidenced il. his
manner as, tossing the paper aside,
he stood up
Good evening, Mr.. hampton"
said Harley genially. II take it,
pointing to the newspaper that
you are looking for a new job?"
hampton stared, with a suspicion
of anger in his eyes, then. meeting
the E u cd glance of my friend, he
Dr e iato a smile very pleasing and
humorous. He was a fresh colored
young fellow, with hair inclined 20
redness, and smiling he looked very
toyish indeed.
Il have no idea who you are" he
said, speaking with a faint North
Country accent, "but you evidently
know who / am and what has han
pened to me-"
Got the boot?" asked Harley con-
tidentially.
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