Evening public ledger. [volume] (Philadelphia [Pa.]) 1914-1942, 1921-12-24

| ucEt WINS III UWhWHTu silence.
The girl stood by the table, her eyes
downcast, the sunset glow from the
wide-open window all about her, her
fingers nervously twisting the loose
sash at her waist.
The Fortune Hunter looked at her
helplessly; he had never felt at such u
loss In his life. Twice he cleared his
throat before, with q desperate effort,
he said rather hoarsely:
I'VE shall have a great deal TO say
to one another-you and /.
Yes" She looked up swiftly, her
eyes radiant through the tears that
misted them. Then suddenly she took
a little run toward him, laying both
her hands on his shoulders. her pretty
face strained In sudden anxiety.
"'Oh, are you really-really glad to
be here with meT'
The Fortune Hunter looked past her
and swiftly round the room glad to be
for short while, after the months Of
discomfort and hardship.
His eyes wandered to the open win
dow; to the sloping garden beyond and
the silvery river, and he drew a deep
breath.
Glad! That's a poor word" he
said fervently.
He looked down at her flushing face,
read the thought in her eyes, and for
a moment he hesitated. Then with a
little half shamed laugh, he bent and
kissed her lips.
She returned the kiss with soft eager
ness. whispering brokenly as they
drew apart again, "And no man has
ever kissed me-since you went away"
The Fortune Hunter flushed scarlet;
an intolerable sense Of shame seemed to
choke him. He walked away from her
and stood looking out over the river
with hot eyes.
He had done many questionable
things in his life. and felt little COM
Function. Many times in his wander
ings he had walked boldly into res
taurant, eaten hearty meal, and got
out Of the place without paying cent
for It. More than once he had thrown
the bag containing all his worldly be-
longings out Of his lodging window,
and followed 1t down q water-pipe into
the street In order to avoid the impossi-
bility Of meeting his bill, and It had
all seemed more or less sport.
But this--somehow this thing, which
gave promise to be the greatest adven-
ture of all, went sorely against the
grain.
1T will have to end" he told him
self grimly, as he stood and stared At
the river.
He had taken many kiss in his life
was different. She loved him, or at
least she loved the man whom she be-
lieved him to be.
And little breath of coolncss swept
through the heart of the Fortune Hun
ter rs he thought Of the man lying dead
in the woods with the bracken bending
above him.
The whole thing was madness. Dis
covcry was bound to come.
For an hour or two perhaps he might
carry the situation with a high hand
long enough to get good meal and
fresh courage with which to face, his
wanderings-but there 1t would have to
end.
He had meant no harm he had been
carried off his feet, and the girl herself
was responsible for the mistake In the
first place. She ought to have had
more sense women were 80 sentimental.
Even supposing there was n faint
resemblance between himself and the
dead man! After all, theirs was an
ordinary type. But he was conscious
of keen curiosity to know what story
lay behind 1t all and from what ten
years Of exile the dead man had been on
his way home.
The girl touched his arm gently,
John, is it-all this-anything like
you pictured it? tried to describe 1t
to you, but 1t wasn't easy. Is 1t ut all
like you thought it was?" she asked.
The Fortune Hunter pulled himself
together with an effort.
ITS all much more beautiful" he
said stumblingly. II can't" He
turned and looked down at her. But
l can't stay here" he went on with a
sort of rush. your uncle
"Why uncle will just love to have
you," she said. Poor dear! He's
been so worried. He never thought you
would really come at all he always said
that | was wasting my time. He was
ever so angry when would not look
at any-any Of the other men who
WHO" She laughed.
"Well, l did tell you that there
were other men, didn't II" she ap-
pealed. He echoed her words slowly.
"Ycs-oh, yes. You did tell me-"
But he hardly heard. He was Won
dcring how on earth he could explain
to her, what excuse he could make to
get out of the house and AWAY before
the 1rHuQ was ulsCONcTeu.
She seemed quite unconscious Of his
agitation. She went on eagerly: "And
is Tommy like what you thought he
was? Poor Tommy, he's been longing
for you to come. I've always read him
you had a bearskin for him he's talked
about it every day. You have brought
it, haven't you?'
The Fortune Hunter opened his
mouth to speak, and shut 1t again with
a little snap. There was q grim amuse-
ment in his blue eyes.
ooh! he shall have his bearskin all
right" he said after moment, and
wondered how it was that If John Smith
had known this girl 80 well and inti-
mytely he had never before met either
her uncle or the boy Tommy.
It was obviously a situation from
which to escape as soon as possible. The
only wonder was that he had not al
ready given himself hopelessly away.
Why, he did not even know the girls
surname, or the place from which he
himself was supposed to have cope.
He ran a nervous finger round the
inside of his collar. He felt as II he |
could not breathe.
Cant we 60 out in the gardenT
he asked abruptly.
"This rooms so hot"
He knew it was not; the room was
deliciously cool and filled with the soft
river breeze, but it felt like prison |
from which he longed to escape.
She led the way on to the lawn, and
the Fortune Hunter followed; he
glanced down at his ill-itting suit and
laughed.
"Will the neighbors be shocked?" he |
asked. Anne turned and laughed.
mo one can see us; this house Ia |
,n,,, .acludad Sac hou lnUalu tho traau