Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1926-02-07

ing for q month once. I've never
quite forgiven him."
The man seemed to be suddenly
conscious Of their regard. He stared
across at them with a frown. Then
he gathered up his plaques and count.
ers. stuffed them into his pocket.
motioned to his companion, and left
the place. Violet tugged at Hargrave's
arm.
Go after him." she begged. You
must have him come and see YOU
You must Come along"
She dragged him off. but the room
was crowded. and before they could
reach the other side the man and his
companion had disappeared. They
searched the three rooms and the bar
In vain. Hargrave even descended the
| stairs and looked In the restaurant.
When he returned there was @ puz-
zled froWn upon his forehead.
This becomes mysterious" he de-
clared. "Horrtdge evidently knew we
were talking about him and he has
| absolutely disappeared. Why he
| should want to avoid me, I can't Inn
| agine. I paid him the largest fee I
have ever been asked for by physi.
clan in my life.'
wait a moment" Gorse begged
They seemed to know him over
| there
| He made his way to the chef, who
was seated behind the croupier. close
to where the man and the woman had
been playing. He came back looking
more puzzled than ever.
| The chef knows nothing about
him. except that he plays high" he
| reported. but he believes his name
Is Horridge."
Hargrave nodded indifferently
4 11, 0xxt
that" he declared. Il don't otter
| make that sort of mistake"
| Returning from Mont Agel after q
round Of golf with Philip Gorse a day
or two later. Hargrave, as he gazed
idly down on to the panorama below
was more than ever impressed by the
! fantastic unreality OF the whole place
The Casino. with its grotesque lines
its fiorid ornamentation, its almost
Haunting appeal to q certain tawdri
ness In life. seemed suddenly an i'm
possible place. the life which centeree
from 1t unreal. the people, crawling
| about like ants below, not humans al
all, creatures OF travesty, puppets
| whose sense of the real things in Life
had departed. Philip Gorse found
himself studying his friends expires
sion with some apprehension. He
| himself born optimist. had never
|
monitions as to his own fate. Today
for the first time, there seemed to be
| Indications of 1t In his appearance
| His lean face, with its coating Of sun
burn, was still the face OF a strong
| and healthy man, but there were tired
| lines about the mouth which were
new; the WEAKNESS in his bearing and
| in his eyes seemed to speak of lessen
| ing strength.
| you've had all that's good for you
Of this place. old chap" he remarked
little abruptly.
Hargrave withdrew his eyes from,
| their downward gaze.
Where could you find better" he
asked, when ones LIES work Is fin
ished? It rests with ourselves whether
we make use of our opportunities for
enjoyment or not. / expect / have
tried to squeeze q little too much out
Of the hours. We all do that when
our time Is limited"
IF / hear another word like that
Philip Gorse said firmly, I'm going
to march you off to the local vet. He's
an excellent chap-can't do you any
harm-and you're under promise
you know"
Hargrave nodded.
1--WE been rather hoping I'd come
across Horridge again." he remarked,
''The Horridge who isn't Horridge,'
Gorse said stubbornly.
$50 far as the Monte Carlo hotels
are concerned" Hargrave admitted
''he certainly hasn't matertalized. I've
had the concierge at the Hotel de
Paris inquire at all Of them. I. can't
see his name either as staying al
Cannes or Nice. Yet I don't make
| mistakes of that sort, you know
Gorse. That was the man who peck
eted my notes and signed my death
| warrant"
mot q word that you have told me