The Chesterfield advertiser. [volume] (Chesterfield C.H., S.C.) 1884-1978, 1922-05-25

been able to make 1t wholly clear to
| me. 1t is like Il record that has been
blurred. These original names must
have been written down by my father
many years ago-many, most of those
people, i think-are dead; some are
nearly forgotten. The only thing that
| is fully plain Is that In every case my
| Inquiries have led me to those who
have lost one, and sometimes more
than one relative upon the lakes"
Constance thrilled to II vague hor.
ror; 1t was not anything to which she
| could give definite reason. His tone
quite as much as what he said was its
cause. Ills experience plainly had
been forcing him to bitterness against
his father; aud he did not know with
certainty yet that his father was dead
You'll lunch with us, OF course"
she said to Alan, "and then 20 back
with us to Harbor Point. It's II days
journey around the two bays; but
we've n boat here"
He assented, and they went down to
the water where the white and brown
| power yacht, with long, graceful lines,
| lay somnolently In the sunlight lit.
' tie boat took them out over the SHIN
mering, smooth surface to the ship;
| swells from II faraway freighter swept
under the beautiful, FURNISHED craft,
| causing it to roll lazily as they board
ed 1t. A party of nearly II dozen men
and girls with an older woman chap
eroning them, loungcd under the shade
OF an awning over the after deck.
They greeted her gaily and looked
curiOusly ut Alan as she introduced
him.
"llave you worked Oh any of our
boats?" she asked him, after luncheon
had been finished, and the anchor OF
the ship had been raised.
A queer expression came upon his
face. "Tve thought 1t best not to do
that, Miss Sheriff." he replied
She did not know why the next mo.
ment she should think OF Henry.
The yacht was pushing swiftly.
smoothly, with hardly hum from its
motors north along the shore. He
watched intcntly the rolling, wooded
hills and the ragged little bays and in
lets. His work and his lnvcstigatlngs
had not brought him to the neighbOr-
hood before, but she found that she
did not have to name the places to
him; he knew them from the charts.
Grand Traverse light" he suld to
her as white tower showed upon
their left. Then, leaving the shore
they pushed out across the wide mouth
|. of the larger bay toward Little Tray
erse. He grew more silent as they ap
preached 1t.
"It is up there, isn't It," he asked
pointing, "that they hear the Drum?"
Yes; how did you know the placer
II don't know 1t exactly; | want you
to show me-"
She pointed out to him the copse,
dark, primeval, blue In Its contrast
with the lighter green Of the trees
about it and the glistening white OF
the shlngle and of the more distant
sand bluffs. He leaned forward. staring
at 1t, un.h The changed course of the
yacht, as II swung about toward the
entrance to the bay. obscnred IL
"Seelng the ships made me feel that
I belonged here OF the lakes" he re-
minded her. IL have felt something
not recognition exactly. but something
that was like the beginning OF recog-
nition-many times this summer when
i saw certain places. It's like one of
those dreams, you know, In which you
are conscious of having had the same
dream before. feel that l ought to
know this place"
They landed only few hundred
yards from the cottage. After bid
ding Sood-by to her friends, they went
up to 1t together through the trees.
There was small sun room, rather
shut Off from the rest of the house, to
which she led him. Leaving him there,
she ran upstairs to get the things.
She halted an instant beside the
door, with the box in her hands, be-
fore she went back to him. thinking
how to prepare him against the sig
nificance of these relies OF his father.
She need not prepare him against the
mere fact OF his fathers death; he
had been beginning to believe that al
ready; but these things must have far
more meaning for him than merely
that She went In and put the box
down upon the card table.
"The mutiler in the box was your
| fathers" she told him. "He had 1t on
| the day he disappeared. The other
| things" her voice choked little, "are
| the things he must have had In his
pockets. They've been lying in water
| and sand"
He gnzed at her. IL understand"
he said after an instant. you mean
| that they prove his death"
She asscnted gently, without speak
ing. AS he approached the box, she
drew back from 1t and slipped away
into the next room. She walked up
( and down there, pressing her hands
together. He must he looking ut the
things now, unrOlling the muller.
. What would he be feeling as
he saw them? Would he be glad, with
that same gladness which had mingled
with her own sorrow over Uncle
Benny, that his father was gOpe-gone
| from his guilt and his fear and his
disgrace? Or would he resent that
| Jeuth which thus left everything nm