The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1922-06-16

down the stairs (the orninous paren-
 theses still around her mouth), and
 made her way with rapid footsteps to-
 ward the path through the forest
 which led toward Peters cabin.
 Beth was primitive, highly honora- ble by instinct if not-by precept but
 a creature of impulse, very much in
 love, who read by intuition the in trusion of what seemed a very real
 danger to her happiness. If her con- science warned her that she was t1'a ansgess1ng the rules of polite pro- cedure. something stronger than a sense of propriety urged her on to read, som ething stronger than mere curiosity, the impulse of self-preser- vatton, the impulse to preserve that l which was stronger even than self the love of Peter Nichols. The scrawl that she had written upon the evlenope was eloquent of her point of view, at once a taunt. renunciation and a confession. You left this last night. You'd better go back to Anastasie!"
 It was the intention of carrying the letter to Peters cabin and there leav- ing it in 3. conspicuous position that | now led her rapidly down tine path | through the woods. Gone were the tender memories of the night before | If this woman had had claims upon | Peter Nichols heart at the two places | with the Russian names. she had the | same claims upon them now. Beth's | love and her pride waged a battle | within her as she approached the l cabin. She remembered that Peter | had told her last night that he would | have long day at the lumber camp, 1 but she crossed the log-jam she | found herself hoping that by some chance she would find Peter still at | ' | (which she mentally rehearsed), she | would demand explanation, and lis tening, grant forgiveness. Or else I* she didn't lie to think of the | alternative.
 | But instead of Peter at the cabin l door In the early morning sunlight she found a strange man, sitting in a
 chair in the porttco. smoking one Of | Peters cigarettes, and apparently
 much at home The appearance of ] the stranger was for a moment dis 1 concerting, but Beth approached the | familiar doorway, her head high, the ! heliotrope letter burning her fingers | She had intended to walk in at the | door of the cabin, place the letter in
 a conspicuous position where Peter | could not fail to see it. and then re- l turn to her home and haughtily await | Peters arrival. But the presence of | this man, a stranger in Black Rock, | making free of Peters habitation, ev- | ident1y with Peters knowledge and consent. made her pause in a mo- ment of uncertainty.
 At her approach the man in the | chair had risen and she saw that | he was ta11-almo ost as tall as Peter | that he had a hooked nose and dis | played a set of irregular teeth when
 ihe smdled-which he did, not un-
 pleasantly. There was something | about him which repelled her yet l fascinated at the same time. l MT. Nichols has gone out?' Beth
 asked, for something to say. l "Yes. miss,'' said the stranger, blinking at her with his bleary eyes. I MT. Nichols is down at the lumber
 camp-won't be back until night, I
 reckon. Anythin I can do for ye?" MO. I+' Beth hesitated. T l just wanted to see hin-to,- leave somethin' for him." i 'T guess he'll be right sorry to miss you. Who shall say called ?' 1 'tOh, 1t doesn't matter" said Beth, turning away. But she was now aware
 of a. strange curiosity as to this per
 son who sat with such an air of we'll
 being in Peters chair and spoke with
 such an air of proprietorship. The 1 insist ence of her own personal affair
 with Peter had driven from her mind | all thoughts of the other matters sug- | gested in the letter, of the possible | dangers to Peter even here in Black
 Rock and the mysterious references to | Holy Russia
 This man who stood in Peters DOT | tico, who ever he was, was not a Rus
 sian-she could see that at a glance
 and read it in his accents-but she l was equally certain from his gen. 1 eral character that he could be no
 friend of Peters and that his business
 here was not of Peters choosing. | "If ye'd like to wait while" | He offered her the chair, but Beth 1 did not accept 1t.
 "Ye don't happen to be Miss Peggy Mcclure, do ye?" asked the stranger
 curiously.
 NO" replied the girl. My name
 is Beth Cameron"
 | 'Beth-?"
 ''cameron." she finished firmly.
 The stranger seemed to be exarnin- ing her with Q. glowing interest, but his look was clouded.
 Beth had decided that until Peter | came explaining she had no luther possible interest either in him or his 1 affairs, but in spite of this she found her lips suddenly asking:
 | Are you a friend of MT. Nichols, The man in the portico grinned
 somherly.
 "YeS. I guess I am-an old friend t-before he came to America" 1 "Oh" said Beth quietly. You've l known him along time them" "Ye might say so. We were bud l dies. to gether.''
 'sThen you knew him in-in Lon | don?"
 The man grinned- Cant say l did Not in London. Why do you
 ask?
 "Oh, just wanted to know The gaze of the stranger upon her l was disquieting. His eyes seemed to | be snoldering like embers just ready to blaze. She knew that she ought to be returning and yet she didn't
 want to go leaving her object unac- complished, the dignity of her plan having already been greatly disturbed. And so she hesitated, curiosity at war ' with discretion.
 asWouId vOJ mind telling me your