Evening star., 1923-11-10
arms and wiring his hands together

arms and wiring his hands together
frantically.
screamed-and then his voice added
to the din a food of fmpassioned
Italian; 1t was Signor Palasco Ratti.
probably.
John Bruce was painting now, his
breath coming in short. hard gasps
1t was not easy to keep them in front
of him, to keep his back free. He
caught the CLINT of knife blades now.
He was borne back foot by foot
the space widening as he retreated
from the door, giving room for more
to come upon him at the same time
A knife blade lunged at him. He
eyaded it-but another glittering in
the ceiling light at the same in
slant. flashing a murdefous arc in it's
downward plunge. caught him. and,
before he could turn. sank home.
A yell of triumph went up. He
felt no pain. Only a sudden sick
ening Of his brain, a sudden weakness
that robbed his limbs of strength. and
he reeled and staggered, fighting
blindly now.
And then his brain cleared. He
flung quick glance over his
shoulder. Yes. there was one chance
Only one, And in another minute,
with another knife thrust, it would
be too late. He whirled suddenly and
raced down the length of the cafe.
IL
surprise at his sudden action, he
gained a door he had seen there, and
threw himself upon it. 1t was not
fastened, though there was a key in
plunged through. locked the door on
the outside with the fraction Of a
second to spare before they came
battering upon it-and stumbled and
fell headlong out into the open.
1t was as though he were lashing
I'D hrrt - Mt s.tl
kept wobbling and Jogging. Didn't
the befogged thing understand that
his life was at stake! He lurched to
his feet. He was in a lane.
In front of him, like great looming
shadows. shadows that wobbled, too,
and, like an inset between them, a
small house with light cleaning in
the lower window.
That was where the vision lived.
Only there vas a fence between.
fence He had not meant to--to
make a call tonight-she-she might
have misunderstood. But in a Sec
ond now they would come swooping
around into the lane after him from
the street.
He clawed his way to the top of the
fence, and because his strength was
almost gone, fell from the top Of the
fence to the ground on the other side.
And now he CraWled, crawled with
what frantic haste he could, because
he heard the uproar from the street.
And he laughed. The kid was prob
ably munching her hunk of candy
now. Queer things-kids! Got her
candy-happy-
He reached up to the sill of an
as he had clawed his way up the
fence, straddled the sill unsteadily,
clutched at nothingness to save him.
self. and toppled inward to the floor
Of the room.
A yell from the head of the lane. a
cry from the other end Of the room
spurred him to final effort. He
gained his feet, and swept his hand,
wet with blood, across his eyes.
That was the vision there running to-
ward him wasn't it?-the wonderful.
glorious vision!
Pardon me-" said John Bruce in a
sing-song voice, and with q desperate
effort reached up and pulled down
the window shade. He tried to
smile. 'Queer-queer things-kids-
aren't they? She-she just ducked
out from under"
The girl was staring at him wildly.
her hands tightly clasped to her
bosom.N
Pardon mew whispered John Bruce
thickiy. He couldn't see her any
more, Just a multitude OF objects
whirling like a kaleidoscope before
his eyes. "She-she got the candy"
said John Bruce, attempting to smile
again-and pitched unconscious to
the fioor.
ITO be continued tomorrow.l r