Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1923-08-04

bringing subtle perfume. You poor
fellow" she. murmured. "Can l do
anything for your"
Greg's feelings were mixed; he took
1T for granted that she was one of
the same lot; moreover, he was
ashamed to be found by woman in
so lowly a posture. Who are you?"
he asked sullenly.
Your friend" she breathed.
One in Greg's position could hardly
refuse an offer of friendship. His
heart warmed to her. Yet he did not
altogether abandon caution. Some
thing about her still repealed him;
her foreignneas perhaps. She spoke
excellent English. but not with the
Inconsistencies Of the native born.
How can l help you?" she MUIR
INJURED.
Help me to get out of here" said
Il darcn't." she whispered. They
would kill me if they found out. Be
sides it is useless. The house is full
of men. All the doors are guarded"
cut this rope and I'll take my
chances of getting out"
Il daren't." she walled. But maybe
I can loosen it a little"
Careless of her fine dress, she
dropped to her knees on the dusty
her hand she put down. 1t sounded
like plate. Greg rolled over, and
with her soft warm hands she FUN
bled with the knots at his wrists, not
with much success. Her hands trem-
bled little as If in confusion at be-
ing forced to touch a strange man.
Greg was thinking principally of the
plate.
What was that you brought" he
asked.
You are hungry"
"Famished. I suppose it's ten hours
since | ate
There was nothing cooked in this
house; but ! brought biscuits and
comfortable now"
Not much. How can 1 eat with
my hands tied?"
II will feed you" she said with
a charming confusion in her voice.
She proceeded to do so. feeling for
chocolate and sweet biscuits between
them. In good Sooth the situation
was romantic enough. the warm
breathing woman bending over him
there was something infinitely caresS-
ing in the touch of her fingers. never
thelesS Greg remained cold. He
could think of nothing but how to
get out.
driver" she said presently:
Greg was reminded with a little
pang of the other woman who had
said that. I'm a taxi driver" he
replied. las TO common that's not
He shrugged. who are your" he
asked for the SECOND time; ::
"a prisoner like yourself"
1t occurred to him as strange that
prisoner should have been so anx-
ious to keep lights from showing in
the windows. What sort of joint is
this anyhow" he asked
"Joint?'
Who are these men? What are
Il don't know. They tell me moth
ing"
But if YOU live here YOU must
hear and see what goes on. What
do you make of it,"
It's politics of some kind" she
said vaguely. Il don't understand.
How did you happen to come here?"
II was sent"
BY whom"
"A fare who engaged me on the
street"
what sort of person."
We'll, I'm not much of hand at
description. An ordinary looking fell
low. middle-aged. plainly dressed.
nothing special about him"
You're just fooling me-" she said
reproachfully. You don't trust me-"
why should l trust you?" said
Greg bluntly. You don't answer my
Jul oHly me OlISIS
ASK me anything, anything" she
said passionately. Il look TO you to
save me-"
who are you. and what are you
doing in this house,
It's a miserable story" she said
in a shamed voice. My name is
Clelie Mendizabal. l am "a Peruvian.
My father died a few years ago
leaving US penniless. | had to go to
work. Well. in Peru a girl who
works for her living is looked down
upon, so I determined to come to New
York. They said that the streets of
New York were fairly paved with
gold I had no difficulty in finding
work here. but / soon found that
working girl has no easy time in
America either There was a man