The Glenwood post., 1923-02-01
'"No.~
ITO spy upon me?"
uNo0

"What was 1t you took the train TO
tell me?"
81? Nothing"
"That is all, Mr.. Eaton"
Eaton started back to his compart-
ment AS he turned, Harriet Santoine
looked up at him and their eyes met;
and her look confirmed to him what he
had felt before-that her father, now
taking control of the investigation OF
the attack upon himself, was not con
tinuing 1t with prejudice or predis
posed desire to damage Eaton, ex-
cept as the evidence accused him.
And her manner now told, even more
plainly than Santoine's, that the blind
man had viewed the evidence as far
from conclusive against Eaton; and
as Harriet showed that she was glad
of that, Eaton realized how she must
have taken his side against Avery in
reporting to her father.
Eaton had barely finished breakfast
when humping against the car told
him that it was being coupled to a
train. The new train started, and now
the track followed the Mississippi
river. Eaton, looking forward from
his window as the train rounded
now the last one of a train-pre-
sumably bound from Minneapolis to
Chicago. At nine o'clock in the eve
ming, some minutes after crossing the
state line into Illinois, the train
stopped at station where the last
car was cut off.
A motor-ambulance and other
limousine motor-cars were waiting in
the light from the station. Eaton,
seated at the window, saw Santoine
carried out on a stretcher and put
into the ambulance. Harriet Santoine,
after giving direction to man
who apparently was chauffeur, got
into, the ambulance with her father.
The surgeon and the nurses rode with
them. They drove off. Avery entered
another automobile, which swiftly dis
appeared. Conductor Connery came
for the last time to Eatons door.
Miss Santoine says you're to go
with the man she's left here for you"
The porter. appeared with his over.
coat and hat Eaton put them on and
stepped out Of the car. The conductor
escorted him to a limousine car. "This
Is the gentleman" Connery said to
| the chauffeur to whom Harriet San
tome had spoken. The man opened
the door of the limousine; another
man, whom Eaton had not before
seen, was seated in the car; Eaton
stepped in. Connery extended his
hand-"Good-by, sir"
"Good-by"
| The motor-car drove down a wide,
| winding road with tall. spreading trees
| on both sides. The man in the car
with Eaton, whose duty plainly was
only that of guard, did not speak to
Eaton nor Eaton to him. The motor
| passed other limousines occasionally {;
then, though the road was still wide
and smooth and still bounded by great
trees, 1t was lonelier; no houses ap-
peared for half mile; then lights
glowed directly ahead; the car ran un-
der the porte-cochere of great stone
country mansion; servant sprang to
the door of the limousine and opened 1t !;
another man seized Eaton's handbag
| SuEc llOlu DCSlue llit
entered large, beamed and paneled
hallway with an immense fireplace
| with logs burning in 1t there was a
wide stairway which the servant, who
had appointed himself Eaton's guide,
assembled. Eaton followed him and
found another great hall upstairs. The
servant led him to one of the doors
opening Off this and into a large room,
fitted for mans occupancy, with
dark furniture, cases containing books
on hunting, sports and adventure. and
smoking things; eff this was dress
ing room with the bath next; beyond
was bedroom.
''These are to be your rooms, sir"
the servant said. A valet appeared
and unpacked Eaton's travelling bag.
Eaton went TO bed, but amazement
would not let him sleep.
He was in Santoine's house; he
knew 1t could be no other than San
tones house. 1t was to get into San.
tones house that he had come from
Asia; he had thought and planned and
schemed all through the long voyage
on the steamer how it was to be done
He would have been willing to cross
the continent on foot to accomplish
it; no labor that he could imagine
would have seemed too great to him
If this had been Its end; and here
1t had been done without effort on
his part, naturally, inevitably Chance
and circumstance had done 1t! And
as he realized this, his mind was
full Of what he had to do In San
toine's house. For many days he had
not thought about that; 1t had seemed
impossible that he could have any op
portunlty to act for himself. Ant
the return to his thoughts of pos
'sibillty of carrying out his Original
plan brought before him thoughts OF
his friends-those friends who
through his exile. had been faithful
to him but whose identity or existence
he hadA been obliged to deny, wher
questioned to protect them as well