New Britain herald., 1924-07-29

sheer honelHhsltss was Nfliten
 upon her faea-that despair of youth
 so infinitely more tragic than the
 despair Of age, And she was pas
 thetieally young, In years, perhaps
 she had reached maturity. but hers
 was the type of face that mirrors the
 innocence Of childhood, Neither
 lime nor experience can ever age such
 folk.
 But even these can suffer, per-
 haps, indeed, they suffer more than
 the callonsed Of soul, l, cynical
 yiolator Of the laws of man, wanted 10 go over and pat her hand. and
 wipe away her tears.
 smiled as pictured myself doing
 this. Her young escort would doubt
 less resent such an action. for have
 not reached the age when may yen-
 ture such benevolcnce. l am young
 mot as young as the youth who ac-
 eompanied her. but still Of an age
 when women sometimes glance my
 way Partly. too, my smile was sar- donic. was not the person to offer .chivnlrous sympathy to weeping maidcns, with or without escort.
 At this very moment the police Of New York were searching for mo. As l have rccountcd in previous chapter, one Swede Thomassen, brutal murderer, had been killed in my apartment by the White Eagle, that great lrenchman whom I would rank as the foremost criminal genius of his time, did not truth compel mo to admit that have defeated him on numerous occasions.
 The newspapers were filled with accounts of the finding of Thomas sens body, and with tales of the ex- traordinary efforts police were mak- ing to find Robert Stickney, the ten ant of the apartment. Indeed. the newspapers did not condemn Stickney. They said that he had rendered service to society in ridding it of Thomassen. Nevertheless the police naturally desired to int, ?w Mir. stickney. And if Mfr St .cy were captured by the police, it would transpire, possibly, that he was a gen. ueman of fortune, who had become q professional despoiler of the too , had created.
 Now ], John Ainsley, had no wish to disclose my identity, my means Of likelihood. In fact, that means of likelihood. I hoped, had been aban- doned. I had made my stake. Iin- tended to sail for Australia. In couple of years would return. Il would go to that native town of mine where the Ainsleys were known and respected, and would take up again the life that I had led be- fore the war and the crash of my fortunes.
 Five days had elapsed since the dis covery of Thomassen's body. And during those five days I had secluded myself in the rooms which had taken in a modest hotel.
 But l was always a restless person, Tomorrow, at five in the morning, the Celeste sailed from her dock for Sydney. My baggage was already in my stateroom. It would have been a simple matter for me, having paid my hotel bill, to step across Brooklyn Bridge to the steamer.
 But l would not see New York again for at least two years It would take me that long so to estab- isls myself in Australia that if, in he years to come, some one should lsk if John Ainslcy really had made fortune in the island continent, it would be possible to point to a back ground of trading or speculation.
 l felt homesickness before had eft my country's soil. wanted to rink in, for the last time, the vital lir of Manhattan, to see the hurrying people. And so, despite the fact that policemen were armed with a descrip- ion of Robert Stickney, John Ainsley lined at the Trevor.
 1t was time when I should have aken no risks whatsoever. And cer- ainly it would be madness of me to dd to the risk already run by in- ruding upon the young couple who at at table in the alcove diagonal across tho Trevor dining room.
 Who was I, bearing my burdens, to hink that I could lift the weight rom another's shoulders? And vet he looked like & girl whom had noWn q dozen years ago, a girl with 'hom l had gone 10 school
 She was pretty girl. Her hair 'as golden, her complexion pink and 7hite, her mouth sweet and gentle, nd her nose was straight and small 2 nough to add touch of rogishness ( Q her countcnance--althou in- eed. her present mood held no 2 ayety. $
 Her #ompanion was about twenty { our. EIIe was good looking, and on n odehson when he was less har- ssed than now, his face would have 2 eem1d ingenious. This was no overs quarrel; this was no grief of he ordinary sort which they were . haring. Only some desperate turn . l the tide of their affairs could re- | uce these naturally buoyant young 2 eople to their present condition of ! espair. |
 Well, under all the circumstances. a
 was no business of mine, I paid C " check and started from the room,
 was necessary for me 10 pass their ' lble. And I heard the girl say: . Frank, you won't kill yourself?"
 Now, nine hundred and ninety inc times out Of thousand, the erson to whom such a question is 1dresscd has not the slightest intcn- c on toward self-destruction. But lere is always the thousandth case.
 This boy had pride; 1t vas legible n
 his lips. in the gleam in his eyes, g e thin line of his nose. Such a | 'rson might readily be proudly un- 'le to see any way out of a difi- Q lily but the doorway to death. And U i. acting as always in my life, upon q lpulse. dropped into the seat be- n le him. si ,r,,,a.a .t.x...a ,,. sr- =