Evening star., 1939-12-31

gray for camouf1age purposes, melted
into the horizon. She had counted
so much on going home-on getting
out of this country, torn by war,
and here she was still in it, She
was a fool! Cameron would say
so when she saw him! She should
have sailed! He would get home
some way, perhaps on one OF the
clippers which were still flying the
Atlantic as far as Lisbon.
But regardless of what Cameron
would say-regardless of who might
call her a fool, Claire knew in her
heart she could do nothing else.
She could not 60 home without
knowing what had happened to
Cameron. That he was safe.
She called a porter to carry her
bags, and started into the great
shed which covered the dock. Shed
20 back to the railway station: She
could phone from there. A cab
wheeled up at her signal, and the
porter started loading in the bags.
An Extra Bag.
"Why, there's some mistake!" she
exclaimed. Il have only four bags,
and there are five here"
That's what the steward brought
ashore, mademoiselle," the porter
said. Il was watching him. All
are marked the same-your initials,
the seals. They must all be yours. !"
Claire insisted there was some
mistake, but had to admit that the
bags matched. Except now there
were two overnight cases instead OF
one. Both were equally worn. Both
had the same seals She couldn't
tell them apart; they seemed iden-
tical.
Rather than argue with the por-
ter, she had him put them all into
the cab and drove to the station.
There, she phoned the hotel, where
she and Cameron had stayed in
Paris.
No, Cameron was not there. He
had checked out. and left for LIE
Havre to catch the St. Criox. No,
they had heard nothing from him
since he left
She turned from the phone. There
was nothing to do but return to
Paris. Somehow, Cameron had been
delayed. He wasn't on the st.
Croix. He hadn't appeared at LIE
Havre. He must be in Paris. She
walked to the window and bought a
first-class ticket. Fortunately, a
train was leaving in five minutes.
She should be back before dark.
The Mystery Grows.
In her compartment, she sat STAR
ing at the bags ranged on the seat
across from her. She was alone,
and suddenly she decided to solve
the mystery. She opened one OF
the overnight bags. 1t was hers, all
right. Her night things and toilet
articles were there. just as she had
carefully packed them this morn
ing before she left the hotel.
Curiously, she unsnapped the
catch on the identical bag and
opened it up.
This was peculiar. It contained
nothing but a cardboard carton
which completely filled the inside
of the case. What could it be?
She heard some one in the cor
ridor outside and quickly closed the
bag. An army officer, carrying a
small kit bag, entered and bowed.
do you mind, mademoiselle, if I
sit in here?" he asked, politely. "The
other compartments seem quite
filled"
Certainly you may" Claire an
sWered with smile. Il haven't
the whole compartment reserved"
Expressing profuse thanks as
though she had conferred a great
favor, the officer seated himself by
the door, and having disposed of
his kit bag, promptly pulled a small
book from his pocket and started
to read.
High Rank Indicated.
He was an elderly man with a
heavy white mustache and small
goatee. His cheeks were ruddy from
much time spent in the open and
Claire decided that he probably was
a retired officer who had been called
from the comfort of his small coun-
try estate back to the colors of the
country he had served for many
years. She wasn't certain of his rank
because she never had mastered
ed the mystery of French uniforms,
but from the amount of gold braid
on his sleeves and cap she guessed
he couldn't possibly be anything
less than colonel. Perhaps q gen.
eral.
The omcer showed no signs Of be-