White Bluffs spokesman. [volume] (White Bluffs, Wash.) 1907-1938, 1937-11-04
A sound! Someone had touched


the knob on the other side of the
door. Had the person remembered
that both keys had been left? Now
now Mark and she would find out
who had taken the silver.
Stealthily she touched the button
and plunged the top floor into dark
ness. She raced up the stairs. Car
omed into Mark Trent coming out
of the storeroon. She clutched his
sleeve; whispered:
'Shut the door! Quick! Someone
is fumbling at the hall key. Per-
haps he'll come for this one."
He held her by one arm as he
noiselessly closed the door. In the
dark he drew her into another room.
Side by side they waited. Brooke's
heart shook her body. How could
the man so near her help hearing it
thunp in the tomblike silence?
A spot of light. Creeping ,pl
Creeping up! Her breath caught in
a gasp. An arm slipped round her
shoulders and held her so close that
the scent of the crushed gardenias
was sickish.
"Ssch! Mustn't let him know we
are here!" Mark Trent whispered.
The spot Of light illurnined the
key in the door, illumined the black
gloved hand which gently turned it
and as gently drew it out.
Mark Trent felt the hard beating
of the girls heart as his arm tight
ened about her shoulders, the soft
ness of her skin against his hand.
He didn't dare release her for fear
she might make sound and reveal
their presence to the unknown per-
son in the hall. What a good lit
tie sport she was. She had followed
him into his house with no embar-
rassment, but with a modern girls
Interpretation Of propriety, her ig-
noring Of outworn conventions. Just
the same, he wished fervently chat
she was back in her own iving-room
in that chair before the fire, for
there was no lodging the fact that
black-gloved fingers had withdrawn
the key from the lock. To whom
had they belonged? The words on
the scrap Of paper he had picked
W from the floor of the storeroom
and replaced on the table teased his
mind.
make x on cover when"
That was all. What cover? Much
as he wanted to know, he couldn't
let Brooke Reyburn get mixed up
il the mess. When he had lis
covered the silver, his first thought
had been Of her and the thrill she
would get from seeing It. II he
hadn't brought her, he would be on
the mans neck by this time.
It seemed hours that he stood rig
i'd, listening, with the only sound the
underground roar Of great city,
the faint wall of the distant siren,
and the girls unsteady breathing.
He strained his ears. Was a door
being closed cautiously, or was his
imagination playing tricks? He
must find out. He couldn't stay
here forever. He put his mouth
close to Brooke's ear. He felt the
softness of her hair against his face.
Don't move. Don't speak. I'll
come back"
Whenever in after life he smelled
the fragrance Of a gardenia, he
would remember this night, he told
himself.
He took a cautious step into the
hall. Listened. The house was so
quiet that he could hear the tick of
the old clock on the stairs below.
He tiptoed to the door Of the room
in which he had found the silver and
ran his fingers lightly over the knob.
The key was gone.
He felt his way down; he didn
dare use the flash. The lamp in the
lower hall provided faint light.