The Washington times., 1922-12-30
Seeker of Thrills Finds Himself
Mistaken for Another and Thereby
Becomes Enmeshed in a Maze
of Love and Mystery.
CONTINUED from Yesterday

- citncr u tHciN. AitCA Whoe
had happened she could never
really trust him again.
She had said that she loved him.
but the Fortune Hunter knew
well enough that there Is such a
thing as a pity which Is not
really q near kin to love, but only
. very poor distant relation.
He went back, step by step.
over every hour spent with Anne
since fate had brought him to
Somerton, and he realized with
an agony of remorse that he had
done little to repay her goodness
and devotion.
It semeed to him, too, in the
height of his misery, that. given
the time over again, it would have
been so easy to tell her the whole
truth from the beginning and
trust to her love for forgiveness.
He felt that he had been a mad
man not to take Garry Cannon's
advice even at the eleventh hour
and play the man. But 1t was all
20 many weary days too late.
Nothing could bring back the
past. with its many wasted op.
portunities,
And, after all. she had been
married to the man whom he
had found dead in the woods that
afternoon. Bitterest jealousy ad-
ded to his pain of remorse as
he wondered why he had never
before guessed the truth.
So many times she had said
things that should have told him,
Even as far back as that first
morning they spent together on
the island and she had said:
"And IL uncle asks you about
our-our wedding what shall
you tell him?"
What a callous brute she must
thought him!
And again, only two days ago,
she had said bitterly. Il still
have one ring Of yours. which
have never dared to wear
Even that had not told him.
and now the game was at an
end. The lights were out and
presently the curtain would be
rung down between them forever.
He sat with his head in his
hands till the long night had
passed away and the first gray
streak of dawn began to mingle
with the moonlight; then he rose.
stretched his cramped limbs and
drew up the blind.
The white road lay there be-
yond the garden. long and de.
serted, as If it were patiently
waiting for him to go back to it
Ito start again on his weary
tramp througa life.
JUST BONDAGE.
He had known happy days in
the highways and byways-days
free from care and responsibility,
but they were things Of the past,
never to come again. 1t was to
eternal bondage, not freedom,
tnat he would be returning pres.
emily, when he took the road
again.
He changed his clothes and put
on the old worn suit In which he
had come to Somerten. Then
he unlocked all the drawers and
boxes that held John Smiths pos
sessions and laid the keys on the
dressing table.
Somewhere in the house a clock
struck four. He crossed the
room noiselessly, opened the door
and looked out to the landing.
All was dark and still, but a
faint apprehension prevented him
from going out that way and risk
ing meeting anyone, and he went
back again into the room, clos
ing the door behind him, and
softly unlatched the window.
The scent of the climbing yel-
low rose. fading now beneath the
chill breath Of autumn, came to
him family on the misty MORN
ing air, and he leaned down and.
with unsteady hands, broke off
one Of the dying blooms and put
It away in his coat; then he
pushed the window more widely
open and swung himself out on to
the sill.
For q moment he hesitated. his
heart torn with unbearable pain
and longing; then slowly he let
himself down till he hung only
by his hands. A moment: then
he let go, and dropped noiseless
to the sloping lawn below.
He stood for a moment. hat In
hand, looking up at the dark face
OF the house.
n was growing lirht and tho