The Dolores star., 1923-04-27
By
WILLIAM MacHARG
EDWIN BALMER
Copyright by Little, Brown and Company
CHAPTER xIx-Continued.

sovery of Eaton in the garage and
sndlng with his leaving her and with
Donald Avery's finding her in the mo-
tor; and now she held back one word
only-hls name which he had told her.
Hugh. Her father listened intently
You and Mr.. Eaton appear to have
become rather well acquainted, Har-
riet," he said. HAS he told you moth
Ing about himself which you have not
told me? You have seen nothing con-
cerning him, which you have not
told:"
Her mind went quickly back to the
polo game; she felt flush, which his
blind eyes could not see, dyelng her
cheeks and forehead.
The blind man waited for mo-
ment; he put out his hand and pressed
the bell which called the steward.
Neither spoke until the steward came.
Farley" Santoine said then. qul-
etly, Miss Santoine and l have just
agreed that for the present all reports
regarding the pursuit of the men who
entered the study last night are to
be made direct to me, not through
Miss Santoine or Mr.. Avery"
'Very well, SIR
She still sat silent after the steward
had gone; she thought for an instant
her father had forgotten her presence;
then he moved slightly.
THAT IS all dear" he said quietly.
She got up and left him, and went
to her own rooms; she did not pretend
to herself that she could rest. She
bathed and dressed and went down
stairs. The library had windows fac
Ing to the west; she went in there
and stood looking out.
Her mind was upon only one thing
even Of that she could not think CON
nectedly. Some years ago, something
she did not know what-had hap
pened TO Hugh: tonight, In some
strange way unknown to her. It had
eliminated in her fathers study. He
had fought someone: he had rushed
away to follow someone Whom?
Had he heard that someone In the
study and gone down? Had he been
fighting their battle-her fathers and
hers? She knew that was not so.
Hugh had been fully dressed. What
did it mean that he had said to her
that these events would either de
stroy him or would send him back to
her as-as something different? Her
thought supplied no answer.
But whatever he had done. whatever
ne might be. she knew his fate was
hers now; for she had given herself
to him utterly. She had told that to
herself as she fed and pursued with
him that night; she had told 1t to him;
she later had told it-though she had
not meant to yet-to her father. She
could only pray now that out of the
events of this night might not come
grief to her too great for her to
bear.
She went to the rooms that had
been Eaton's. The police, In stripping
them of his possessions, had over
looked his cap; she found the bit of
gray cloth and hugged 1t to her. She
whispered his name to herself
Hugh-that secret of his name which
she had kept; she gloried that she had
that secret with him which she could
keep from them all. What wouldn't
they give just to share that with her
his name, Hugh.
She started suddenly, looking
through the window. The east, above
the lake, was beginning to grow gray.
The dawn was coming! 1t was be.
ginning to be day!
She hurried to the other side of
the house, looking toward the west.
How could she have left him, hurt and
oil In hn ,,ip
could not have done that but that his
asking her to go had told that 1t was
for his safety as well as hers; she
could not help him any more then;
She would only have been In the way.
But now-she started to rush out, but
controlled herself; she had to stay
in the house that was where the first
word would come If they caught him;
and then he would need her, how
much more! The reporters on the
lawn below her, seeing her at the win
dow, called up to her to know fur
ther particulars of what had hap
pened and what the murder meant;
she could see them plainly In the in
creaslng light. She could see the
lawn and the road before the house.
Day had come.
And with the coming of day, the un-
certainty and disorder within and
about the house seemed to increase
But in the south wing. with
Its sound-proof doors and Its windows
closed against the noises from the
lawn, there was silence; and In this
silence, an exact, compelling, methodic
machine was working; the mind OF
Basil Santoine was striving vainly as
yet. but with growing chances Of sue
cess, to fit together into the order in
which they belonged and make clear
the events Of the night and all that
had gone before-arranging, ordering,
testing, discarding. picking up again
and reorderlng all that had happened
since that other murder, of Gabriel
Warden.