Northern Wisconsin advertiser. [volume] (Wabeno, Wis.) 1898-1925, 1922-07-28
CHAPTER ~


Clay Takes Transfer.
While Beatrice Whitford waited In
the little library for the Arizonan
to join her, she sat in a deep chair,
chin in hand, eyes fixed on the letting
flames Of the gas-log. A little flush
had crept into the oval face. In her
blood there tingled the stimulus Of ex-
element. For into her life an adven-
ture had come from faraway Cattle
| land.
A crisp, strong footstep sounded in
| the hall. Her fingers few to pat into
place the soft golden hair coiled low
at the nape Of the neck. At times she
had boylike unconcern Of sex; again,
spirit wholly feminine.
The clothes Of her father fitted
| Lindsay loosely, for Colin Whitford
| had begun to take on the flesh Of mid
die age and Clay was lean and clean
Of build as an elk. But the westerner
was one Of those to whom clothes are
unimportant. The splendid youth of
him would have shOne through the
rags Of beggar.
my name is Clay Lindsay" he told
her by way Of Introduction.
mime is Beatrice Whitford," she
| answered.
They shook hands
"rm to wait here till my clothes dry,
yore man says"
"Then you'd better sit down." she
| suggested.
Within five minutes she knew that
| he had been in New York less than
| three hours. His impressions of the
| city amused and entertained her. He
was quite simple. She could look into
| his mind as though it were a deep,
| clear well. There was something in
extinguishably boyish and buoyant
| about him. But In his bronzed face
and steady, humorous eyes were
strength and shrewdness. He was the
| last man in the world bunco-steerer
could play for a sucker. She felt that.
Yet he made no pretenses Of a worldly
| wisdom he did not have.
"A voice reached them from the top
| Of the stairs.
do you know where Miss Whitford
| is, JenkinSY
Hin the Red room, sir" The an
! swer was in the even, colorless voice
of a servant.
The girl rose at once. eff you'll ex-
cuse me-" she said, and stepped out Of
the room.
Hello, Bee. What do you think? l
never saw such idiots as the police Of
| this town are. They're watching this
house for a desperate who assaulted
some one outside. / met sergeant on
our steps. Says he doesn't think the
mans here, but there's just a chance
| he slipped into the basement. It's alb
| surd."
"Of course it is" There was a rip
pie Of mirth in the girls voice. "He
didn't come in by the basement at all.
| but walked in at the front door,"
1.-THE front doorl" exploded her faith
err. "What do you mean? Who let him
in?"
81 did. He came as my guest, at my
| invitation"
"What?"
Don't shout, dad" she advised. II
thought had brought you up better"
"But-but-but-wh do you mean"
he sputtered. rs this ruffian In the
house nowY
ooh, yes. He's In the Red room here
and unless he's very deaf he hears
everything, we are saying" the girl
answered calmly, much amused at the
amazement of her father. won't you
come in and see him? He doesn't seem
very desperate"
Clay arose, pinpoints Of laughter
dancing In his eyes. He liked the gay
audacity of this young woman.
A moment later he was offering a
brown hand to Colin Whitford. "Glad
to meet you, Mr.. Whitford. Yore
daughter has just saved my life from
the police" the westerner said, and
his friendly smile was very much in
evidence.
"You make yourself at home" an
swered tae owner Of a large per cent
Of the stock Of the famous Bird Cage
mine.
my guests do, dad. It's proof that
I'm a perfect hostess" retorted
Beatrice. her dainty, provocative face
flashing to mirth.
"Hmp" grunted her father dryly
I'D like to know, young man, why the
police are shadowing this houseT
II expect they're lookin' for me-"