The Wolf Point herald. (Wolf Point, Mont.) 1913-1940, 1927-03-11
MG a doubter with the truth.
Know i'll did see somebody


Somebody
The word struck her ear with
startling effect, an effect of discov
Sty, OF impending disclosures. Hel
body shraDk together as If In feal
Of them, her riveted glance grew
fixed as a sleep walkers. She los
all sense of her surroundings, hel
entire being contracted to a point
OF inner activity. Before that in
tensifed mental vision a series Of
pictures passed like the slides In 4
magic lantern-Shine's photograph.
the worn, wide-eyed face of Sybil ;
Joe playing Sebastian, his costume,
his movements, a replica of Viola's /;
the living room as they heard the
shot, dusk falling outside; in the
summer house-with its shrouding
vines-it would have been almost
dark.
The pictures were disconnected
like spots of light breaking through
darkness. If the darkness could be
dispelled and the spots of light
Joined, fused into continuity, she
would reach something, something
h was cropping toward, ~fearfnlly
cropping toward.
Suddenly a recollection flashed
up. clairvoyantly distinct-Joe at
the fat trying to make Bassett
give him the part of Sebastian, imi-
tating SYPHILIS walk. That picture
brought her TO her feet, brought q
smothered cry to her lips. The
spots of light had Joined, run to-
gether in a leaping illumination.
On the bureau lay the key Of
Joe's trunk that she had brought
from his Don after their last in
terview. She snatched it up and
ran to the door, out of it, along the
gallery. In Joe's room she turned
on the light and unlocked his trunk.
She went through it to the bottom,
looking for his Sebastian costume.
1t was gone, every appointment Of
1t. She had not needed the proof,
she knew that she would not find
II, that IT was Joe dressed In that
costume Stokes had killed.
The rest of it-Sybil alive. hid
ing somewhere She saw the grey
dawn on the window-the night
was over, the house would soon be
stirring. She locked the trunk,
turned off the light and stole out
on the gallery. She did not go to
her room, but kept on down the
hall to the top floor staircase. Half
way up she heard from the floor
above a sound, so faint, so furtive,
that it would only have been audi
BILE In the dead dawn hush. She
made a rush upward, sending her
voice, low-keyed but passfonately
urgent, ahead of her:
"Sybil, Sybil, if it's you, wait. It's
Anne. I'm coming to help YOU"
The door of the bedroom oppo-
site the stair-head was open.
Against the pale light of the win
dow, poised with one hand resting
on the raised sash, was a boys fig
ure-surely the figure she had seer
in the living room two nights be-
fore. II was SO completely bOyish,
the cropped round head, the knick-
.erbockers and belted jacket, that
she could not yet be sure and went
forward with slackened gait, peer
ing and murmuring fearfully:
"Sybil, 1t Is your"
The figure left the window, came
nearer, silently, c%reepingly, with
q hand raised for caution. She saw
the face then, pinched and haggard,
strangely altered with the curling
frame of hair clipped close, but
still Sybil's.
II uyoc co ovtro ordi,,o,x, c,1ob q
gulf of unknown happenings lay be-
tween them-that at first they said
nothing. Anne spoke first.
Joe" she said. TITS Joe that's
Eyes. Do they know?"
"They know nothing. They think
It was you. It's all over, Stokes
las told. But oh, what is it? /
can't understandable like q fear
full dream"
The words died away and a sud
len violent trembling shook her.
With the joints of her knees like
water she sank to the side of the
BED, gripping the other with her
hands, pulling her down
beside her.
Tell me. tell me-" she implored.
why Is he dead? Why did he
pretend he was you? What was
he dOing?"
They sat clinging together, two
small huddled figures in the gray
light. Though the house below was
silent as the tomb they spoke in
voices, question, answer,
surmise. Each knew a different
ispect of the story, brought her
own knowledge of Joe's motives
md actions. In that whispered eX-
they pieced together the
separate facts, combined them In
coherent sequence and came to a
lnal enlightenment.
Joe had met his death in his last
as a police spy, his last eff
ort to get the Parkinson reward.
leaving his room TO come down
md make ready for his departure,
lie had heard the voices Of Stokes
md Sybil in the living room. Sybil
remembered Stokes upward look
nd question about some n NOV
ng in the gallery-Joe creeping to
.oncealment behind the arch. The
of their conversation would
AVE held him listening: here was !
is last opportunity to get the in ,
he rendezvous in the summer |
Its open situation offered !
10 hiding place outside, but know {