Evening star., 1922-07-23

announced the arrival OF the master.
y \
1T was the moment that the tall,
quiet man, standing little aloof
on the outskirts of the crowd, had
oeen dreading. He had told himself
frequently that he had forgotten the
girl who stepped out of the car with
her father. But now, as he saw once
more the girls glowing face and her
slender. upright figure, showed off to
perfection by her habit. he stified a
groan and cursed himself more bit
terly than ever for having been such
fool as to come. II only-once
again those bitter words Knocked him.
He had not forgotten. He never
would forget. And 1t was not the
least part of the price he had to pay
for the criminal negligence Of his late
father.
He glanced covertly at the girl.
She was talking vivaciously to the
man whom he had designated as a
heated clothes-peg. He noticed the
youth bending toward her with an
air of possession which infuriated
him. Then he laughed and swung
himself into the saddle. What had it
to do with him?
On sudden impulse he turned to
farmer next him.
Who is that youngster talking to
the masters daughter?" he asked.
The farmer looked at him in mild
surprise.
Youm a stranger to these parts,
mister. evidently" he said. That be
young Mr.. Dawson, and folks do say
he be engaged to Miss Gollanfield."
Engaged. To that young blighter,
With hands like pothooks and a seat
like an elephant! And then. quite
chief and proceeded most unneces-
sarily to blow his nose. For Mathers
was talking excitedly to Sir Hubert
Gollanieid and Maj. Dawlish, the
hunt secretary. and the eyes Of all
three men were fixed on him.
II thought 1t was before, sir, and
then I saw him mount, and I know"
said Mathers positively.
1T can't be. He was killed In
France" answered the master
Wasn't he, David?"
'I've always heard So" said Daw-
lish. "Ill go and cap him now and
have a closer look"
Anyway. Joe. not a word at pres
ent.' The master turned to Mathers.
Wed better draw the spinney first
X \
THROUGH the crowd, as 1t slowly
moved off, the secretary threaded
his way toward the vaguely familiar
figure ahead. 1t couldn't be. 1t was
out of the question, and yet, as he
watched him. more and moro did he
begin to believe that the huntsman
was right. Little movements, an odd,
indefinable hitch of the shoulders. the
set of the strangers head. And then.
with almost a catch in his breath. he
saw that the man he was following
had left the crowd and was unosten-
tatiously edging for a certain gap,
which to the uninitiated appeared al
most a cul-de-sac. OF course, it
might be just chance. On the other
hand. that gap was the closely
guarded preserve-as far as such
things may be guarded-of the chosen
few who really rode-the first fight
and wanted that invaluable hundred
yards start to get them clear of the
mob.
Slightly quickening his pace, the
secretary followed his quarry. He
overlook him just as he had Joined
the bare dozen who, with hats rammed
down, sat waiting for the first
whimper. They were regarding the
newcomer with a certain curiosity as
the secretary came up. Who was this
fellow in ratcatcher mounted a
hopeless screw? And what was he
doing here, anyway?
"Mornin', David" A chorus OF
greeting hailed the advent of the
nod and smile he took no notice. His
eyes were fixed on the stranger. who
was carefully adjusting one of his
feathers.
Excuse me, sir" Maj. Dawlish
walked his horse up to him and then
sat, staring and motionless. "It can't
be- He spoke under his breath.
and the stranger apparently failed to
hear.
What is the cap?" he asked, cour-
teously. "a fiver this season. 1 be-
lieve.''
Danny The secretary was visi-
bly, agitated. You're Danny Dray-
ton! And we thought you were
dead"
II fear. sir. that there is some mis-
take" returned the other. MY name
is John Marston."
In silence the two men looked at
one another, and then Maj. Dawlish
bowed.
Il beg your pardon, Mr.. Marston,"
he said. gravely. ''but you bear a
strange resemblance to a certain very
dear friend of mine whom we all be-
lieved had been killed at Flers in
1916 He combined two outstanding
qualities" continued the secretary, de-
liberately, did that friend of mine
quixotic chivalry to the point Of
idiocy and the most wonderful horse
manship."
Once moro the eyes of the two men
met. and then John Marston looked
away.
81 am sorry" he remarked, quietly,
that you should have lost your
friend"
"Ah, but have I, Mr. Marston;
have II" interrupted David Dawlish.
quickly.
You tell me he died at Flers," re-
turned the other. And very few
mistakes were made in such matters
which have not been rectiied since"
He disappeared a year or two be-
fore the war" said the secretary;
suddenly. without leaving q trace.
We heard he had gone to New Zea-
land, but we could get no confirma-