Beverly banner. [volume] (Beverly, N.J.) 1877-1964, 1925-06-26
The Vanishing Men


million or two living on his income in
New York.
"What became Of his money!" he
asked.
"It is there"
"Untouched?
Untouched.
He scowled. He said: "The house?"
"Just as / left it-one October day.
Just as it was. Nothing changed,
unprecedented, and left there. A
haunted place, Peter-a place where
one expects to find a poor murdered
creature lying face upward just be-
yond every door sill. l fed. | even
left the dog sent back telegram
to a neighbor-the caretaker-and
gave him the beast"
"You didn't speak of a dog"
Il forgot-a horror Of beast,
turned loose inside the walls at night
when the gate was closed. 1t was his
dog, bought a few months before-a
cross between a Great Dane and blood
hound-a thing with white fangs.
They had to shoot him, I've heard"
Peter, walking to the table, picked
up small bronze Buddha upon whose
face there was a satanic grin and with
great seriousness the man gazed back
at the heather thing for several min
utes.
what about Eisenhower it was
this symbol, half bird and half snake
Kuk-ul-can? You never found it
again?"
YES" said Brena.
"You found it?' He appeared I'M
able to believe.
Eyes," she said. IT had kept the
purse. 1t belonged to my mother. /
kept it. In the lining Last year,
found the scrap Of paper"
Its here? asked Peter with a
marked eagerness.
Eyes" She got up again, brushed
the stray red-gold hair from her high
calm forehead and opened a box on
the bookshelves. When she gave the
torn bit to Peter, she did not follow it
with her glance; her gesture gave the
impression that she regarded the scrap
of paper as of little consequence.
Peter, however, was interested. He
threw his cigarette into the fire and,
walking to the window, examined the
crude drawing, looked at the two words
scrawled beneath and. pushing aside
the curtains, held the scrap up to the
| gray light.
He was interrupted by Brenas
voice. 1t was filed with the tone of
agony, of WEAKNESS, of sickness of
soul.
"Peter, be merciful."
He wheeled about. She had been
sitting gazing at him.
soy good-by to me? Can't you see
| that it is torture not to say good-bH?
Can't you see, Peter, that 1 want yPu
to go, that want to go myself-baek
to Beconshire, to Beconshire, to my
garden, my books, the wide view over
the sweep of open country? Can't you
see that 1 want the memory of these
days to end with your kiss-that now
we are only obliterating that mem
| ory?"
He came back toward her and, pok-
| ing the fire again, he laughed to him
self.
you don't think there is to be an
ending-now?" he asked after mo-
ment.
She looked at him with her eyes
filled with wonderment
"Oh, no." said he. mo ending, dear
one. Here's where we begin. There's
| just some cold hard business to do
now. If it weren't for that I'd be sit
ting there beside you holding you very
tight until we were found by the au-
thorities, starved to DEATH"
| "Peterr'
Eyes. I mean it. That wasn't
pretty story. But 1t hasn't Jared me,
Brena We've the work cut out for
us. First we've the job of getting your
| freedom-or finding out and proving
that some death-dealing agency has
given it to you already. Then wen
uncover this trail of fear that tracks
you, dear. It's the work first"
you dare"
'Dare?" said Peter. Don't make
fun of me. Do you suppose I'd quit
now? / want to go and get the facts.
Brena. want to knock to pieces this
hfdeous waiting you've done-this
menace. want to come and get you
then. Brena-if you love me-"
Love you, Peter?" She buried her
face in her hands.
He stood before her, looking down,
End his hands would have taken ner
head between them if he had permit
red them to exercise will that direct.
I'D them as If flesh and bone and
sinew had volition of their own.
II love you, Peter?" she said. with
out looking up. "Why, love you as I
never knew love could be-"
"Then you help me to be strong" he
commanded We've got to be Spar
4 " H. - d.