Evening star., 1923-11-10
''PAWNED"
Unusual O Whose Very Being
Pledged DO the Bidding of Others
By FRANK L. PACKARD
Author Of "The MiroeIe Max," "From Now o."
Public Company.

alighted and was entering the small
building.
Hit it up "a little to the next
corner turn it, and let me OF
there" directed John Bruce.
II get you" said the chauffeur.
The taxi swept past the car at the
curb. Another minute and it, had
swung the next corner and was slow
ing down. John Bruce jumped to the
ground before the taxi stopped.
-nght!' he called to the chauf-
He waved his hand debonairly at
the scowling whisk cred visage that
was watching him from the Interior
pi tne CAB, and hurriedly retraced
ms way back around the corner.
The travelling pawn shop had turn
ed and was driving away. John
Bruce moderated his pace and saun-
tered on along the street. He smiled
hait grinningly. half contentedly to
himself The "trip to Persia" had led
MIN little farther afield than Mon
steur Snn henri de Lavergne had per-
Bruce. himself had. either! But he
knew now where the most glorious
woman he had ever seen in his life
lived, or, at least, was to be found
again: No, it wasn't exactly the
moon! To him, she was exactly that
And he had not seen her for the last
time. either! That was what he was
here for. though he wasn't so mad
as to risk. or, rather, invite an
afront to begin with. by so bald an
act as to go to the front door, say.
and ring the bell-which would be
tantamount to informing her that he
had-er-played the detective from
the moment he had left her in tho
car Tomorrow. perhaps. or the next
day, or whenever fate saw fit to be
in a kindly mood, a meeting that
possessed all the hallmarks of be-
ing quite inadvertent offered him
high hopes. Later, if fate. still were
kind, he would tell her that he had
followed her. and what she would
be thoroughly justified in miscon-
STRUNG now, she might then accept as
the tribute to her that he meant it
to be-when she knew him better.
John Bruce was whistling softly to
himself.
He was passing the house now, his
scrutiny none the less exhaustive be-
cause it was apparently casual. 1t
was curious little two-story place
tucked away between the two flank
ing tenements, the farther one Of
which alone separated the house from
the corner he was approaching. Not
a light showed from the front Of the
house. Yes, it was quite q curious
place! Although curtains were on
the lower front windows, indicating
that it was purely a dwelling. the
windows themselves were of alb
normal size, as though. originally
perhaps, the ground floor had once
been shop of some kind.
John Bruce turned the corner, and
from a comparatively deserted street
found himself among the venders'
pushcarts and the sputtering gaso-
line torches again. He skirted the
side Of the tenement that made the
corner, discovered the fact that a
lane cut in from the street and ran
ocf q Hn ~f Ia ka hi sNn
he mentally noted must likewise run
past the rear of the little house that
was now so vitality interesting to
him-and halted on the opposite side
of the lane to survey his surround
ings.
Here a dirty and uninviting cafe
attracted his attention, which, if its
dingy sign were to be believed, was
run by one Palasco Ratti, a. gentle
man of parts in the choice of wines
which he offered to his patrons. John
Bruce surveyed Palasco Ratti's po-
tential clientele-the street was full
Of it; the shawled women. the dark
visaged. earringed men. He smiled a
little to himself. No-probably not
the half-naked children who sprawled
in the gutter and crawled among the
pushcarts' wheels! How was it that
she should ever have come to live in
neighborhood to which the desig-
nation foreign" as far as she was
particularly full measure? 1t was
strange that She
John Bruce'S mental soliloquy came
to an abrupt end. Half humorously.
half grimly his eyes were riveted on
the pushcart at -fhe curb directly
which dealt in that brand of confec-
ton so much in favor on the East
Side-a great slab of candy from
which, as occasion required, he cut
slices with large carving knife. A
brown and grimy fist belonging to a
tot Of a girl of perhaps eight or
nine years of age. who had crept in
under the pusncart, was Stealthily
feeling it's way upward behind the
vender's back. it's objective being OBJ
that reposed on the edge of the push
cart There was a certain fascina-
ton in watching developments. 1t
was quite immoral, of course, but his
sympathies were with the child. 1t
was a gamble whether the grimy
little hand would close on the COW
eted prize and disappear again vic
torious, or whether the vender would
turn in time to Illustrate the raid.
The tots hand crept nearer and
nearer its goal No one. save himself.
Of the many. about, appeared to no
tice the little cameo of primal in
stinct that was on exhibition be-
fore them. The small and dirty fin
gers touched the candy, CLOSED on it.
and were withdrawn-butw were with
drawn too quickly. The child. at the
psychological moment under stress of
excitement, eagerness and probably
wildly humping heart, had failed In
fnesse. Perhaps the paper that COW
cred the surface of the pushcart and
on which the wares were displayed
ment in itself attracted the vender's
attention. The man whirled and
made a vicious dive for the child as
she darted out from between the
wheels. And then she screamed.
The man had hit her a brutal clout
across the head
John Bruce strengthened suddenly,
a dull red creeping from his set jaw
to his cheeks. Still clutching the
candy in her hand. the child was
toward him. The man struck again.
and the child staggered. and. reel
ing. sought sanctuary between John
Bruce's legs. A bearded. snarling
face in pursuit loomed up before him
and John Bruce struck, struck as
moon flooded deck when a man, a
brute beast, had gone down before
him-and the vender, screaming shrilly,
lay kicking in pain on the sidewalk.
It had happened quickly. Not one.
caught the details of the little scene
And now the tiny thief had wriggled
through his legs, and with the mag
nificent responsibility of childhood
had darted away and was lost to
sight. 1t had happened quickly-but
not so quickly as the gathering to-
gether Of an angry, surging crowd
around John Bruce.
Some one in the crowd shrieked
out above the clamor of voices:
He kill-a Pietro! KilI-a da dude!"
1t was firebrand.
John Bruce backed away a little
up against the door of Signor Pa1asco
Rattis wine shop. Az glance showed