The Waterbury Democrat., 1934-04-16

took a good purse to attempt him proprietor had patrons who came from New York and wanted more than cock fights for their enter tainment. He said at length, cau- tiously, that he thought he could make it worth "Juanito's while. Beau said to Pablito, Not a cent under $5.oOo for the first fight. And I got third of the purse! See?"
 Pablito saw. He estimated his winnings for year or two of fighting and saw himself with Moves in some secluded corner of the world where there would be peace and a sort of security. That was all that he could hope for.
 A priest whose abode was in narrow, dark way back of one of Havana's churches received a letter about this time from one he had sheltered.
 "I am weak enough at mo- ments," Moves wrote, 'to brood on what would come from my telling the truth, as I told it to you. I am tempted because I know that if I did this my money would be mine again and would help so much in finding Pablito. On the other hand, there is my wife to think of and my own son who must by this time be a man.
 II have been paying a long while for my sin and know that
 must continue to pay. Pray for No n of whom told you - the best
 Three years later in dim old library in an English country home Sir Aubrey wrote a check payable to the American detective agency that employed Billings. With the chck Sir Aubrey sent a letter, one line of which read: "I want you to keep on with the case"
 Billings himself wanted to keep on with the case. He had become interested in locating the boy who was, he decided in his low ebb moments, probably dead. q certainly am nutty about this easel" he fnurmured often. Yet the tangle haunted him.
 The spring before he had made tri pto England to see Sir Au- brey and his healthy, red-cheeked, tawney haired daughters. MT Bill ing, being imaginative saw the old house at Lower Girtings in the hands of somewhat rough young buccaneer who would stir things up a little and saw the village being put upon an "up-to- date" basis.
 What you lack here," he said bluntly to Sir Aubrey, lis pep"
 Sir Aubrey, somewhat at a loss, replied vaguely, "No doubt" Then he quickly changed the sub ject."
 Marcia Treadway was leaner, sharper and thre/ eyears more weary of the world. She sat, one February morning, in the boudoir 6f her New York home, eating breakfast and reading her letters. The boudoir's walls and furnish ings were riot of purple, blue and green-a result of fashionable decorators ideas of "the new color harmonies."
 There were great many letters on the tray and sometimes, after bAef glance at an envelope, Marcia would toss one, unopened, into a wastebasket. This gave her a sort of malicious enjoyment and at the same time the cautious side O finer nature did not suffer. She knew her maid would open the letter later and read carefully all that Marcia did not read at all. If there were news of any import oid WnfI1d hn Ia to report it in shame-faced, |, devious manner. This, too, gave Marcia pleasure because she could be sharp with Marie about spying.
 Now she picked up letter with Havana postmark and slit it open, recognizing Estelle Fields handwriting.
 The letter read:
 Dear Miss Treadway: Father and I hope very much that you can arrange to visit us in Havana the last two weeks of February or early in March. Father says you have never seen our home here. It is quite attractive and it would make me very happy to have you come.
 "I have been travelling with | father in South America for some time, meeting no friends, and have been quite lonely. That is the req son I especially want you to come, although would want you to come anyway. I hope you are quite well. Father and l are well but a little tired from so mitch travelling.
 With my love, Estelle." Reading this, letter, Marcia felt q warmth steal over her that she had not known for some time. She remembered Estelle vividly a slender, coltish youngster who had thought Marcia's clothes sim- | menseiy attractive and watched her with eyes widened by admira- | tiOn.
 "Poor little devil--" Marcia said aloud. Then she looked al | the letter again, noticing that the handwriting was less schoolgirl
 ish than is had been. though still
 marked by affectations.
 Marcia reflected. her fineiy-