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, JHE Flowers cm lECT'nv 0—0—0—0—0—0—0—0—0—0—0-0 ^b fi ^ 0—0—0—0—0—0—0—0—0—0—0 — 0 —0—0—0 — 0—0 — 0—0—0—0—0—0 — 0 —0—0 — 0—0 — 0—0 — 0—0—0»-0—0—0 —0—0—0—0 —9—0 —0 — 0—0 — 0 -0—0-0—0—0—0-0-0—0—0 *•••»• By LOLLIE BELLE WYLIE Written for 15he SUNNY SOUTH ; ♦ 0 — 0 — 0—0—0—0—0 —0 — 0 —0—0—0 — 0— 0—0 — 0—0—0 —0 — 0 —0—0—0 — 0 —0 — 0— 0—0 — 0—0 — 0 —0 — 0—0 — 0 —0—0 —0 — 0— 0 — 0 —0—0— 0—0— 0 — 0 —0—0—0—0^ 0 — 0 — 0—0 — 0—0 — 0 —0 — 0 —0—0 —0 — 0—0 — 0 —0 — 0 — 0 — 0 — 0 —0—0 — 0 — 0 — 0 —0 — 0 —0—0 —0—0 —0—0 RAXDFATHER came into my sitting room one morning and handed me an official-looking docu ment. “It's the deed to Pi rate’s Pocket," said he, enthusiastically. “Ghosts and all?” I asked, endeavoring to hide my frightful exuber ance by an air of playful ness. “By glory.” and grand eur's fist went crashing down upon a heavy piece of mahogany. "if I hear that silly story gossiped. I’ll have the place dashed into the sea!'’ “But they do say—” "And who are the ’they says’,” inter rupted my grandfather angrily, “but a set of liars!’’ With that, he banged the door shut and left me alone. I was glad of tho ghosts, though, that were said to inhabit the place, for they promised protection from idle intrusion, and somewhere in one of my transmi grations in the Orient there must have mixed in my blood an element of the superantural, for anything along that line delighted me. Pirate's Pocket indented the coast of the Gulf of Mexico in Alabama. It was a quaint old adobe home of Spanish ar chitecture with iron gratings and over hanging balconies, but what was most curious of ali, was a great circular orna mentation made to resemble a large hu man eye, that was ever slowly opening and shutting as It turned towards the sea. It was impossible to determine how the eye was built, for the wall befllnd it was an Impenatrable barricade aif stone and mortar, and the outer wall was lifted perpendicularly above the water, so high, so straight that no one had ever been able to climb to it. It was this singular mechanical de vice which seemed governed by the ris ing and falling of the tide which gave to Pirate's Pocket its unsavory reputa tion for uncanny things. Grandfather bought the place of an old creole and presented me with it on my twenty-first birthday. Immediately after that event, it being tho latter end of October, we packed our trunks and leaving New York went soutn for this winter. I found Infinite pleasure in all that pertained to my southern home. The salt sea breeze, the great expanse of blue water, the impenetrable swamps, the fragrant orange, and pine forests that reached into interminable distances, all lent a warmth and color to the scene that stirred the romance deep within me. That quickened every responsive chord and set my being to music. Near neighbor to us was an old gen tleman by the name of Iia Mas, who lived alone, his only relative a grandson D'Triville, who wais at the time of our arrival at Portersville, abroad, perfect ing himself in architecture at the French Academy of Art. Monsieur I,a Mas, we were informed, had, in liLs callow days, been engaged in tho service of La Fltte, the gulf pirate whose meteoric career along the coast was still the theme of romantic story, and I believed It true, for once he said to my grandfather: "Aye, but that devel-may-dare I-a Fitte! What a nerve lie had! Why, mar, I've seen him many a time fight ing knee deep in human blood on deck. Mon Uieu! With the hilt of hl« sowrd crimson with stain.” "And where in the devil were you 7“ asked my grandfather, “that you should Know so well?” "Oui, where?” evaded Monsieur La Mas. “Was not Portersville and Ga Batterio and Coque d'lnde a rendezvous for his followers? Yes, 1 have seen the man with my own eyes in hiding along this shore. It was La Fitte who built the Pocket.” Drawing nearer to us ile continued in a whisper: “It is believed that he hid invaluable treasure in tills locality, but though T have spent the best years of my life digging among the tumuli for it. I have found nothing but a pot of Spanish doubloons and a box of filigrees.” Tills conversation took place in No vember. At Christmas D’Triville re turned from Paris. *»*•••• One needs a hero for his dream world, else the fancies there melt Into mist, leaving not even the memory of ones mood. D'Triville La Mas was that hero. lie spent the greater part of his time at Pirate’s Pocket, rowing me on the bayous or sailing me out to sea. By sunllglit we penetrated the fragrant depths of forest or lagoon: by moonlight wo drifted on motionless streams, listen ing to the mysterious music that thrilled from cool depths beneath. “Havo you ever been over to Dauphin’s island and watched the Eye?” he asked one day In tho spring. I had not, so it was arranged that Mon- sier La Mas, grandfather, he and my self should go and spend the day, tak ing our launch and return late In the afternooi* Who has not gathered his armsful of ti-tl blossoms that fringe the salt sea, or waded through peppery blossoms of cayenne in search of marsh hens; who has not listened to the music of love from the soul of love, knows nothing of tfce ecstacies of that day. Toward the close of (lay, however, a storm began to brew, and aided by the wind and tide we set our sails homeward. Throur*h gathering gloom we saw the great eye of the pocket watching us with what seemed menace. The great pon derous lid moved slowiy upward and as slowly fell. "TtUere’s something fiendish about that thing!” shouted grandfather above the roar of the sea. “I believe it is the howl of the devil!” “They say hereabouts,” answered Mon sieur EluMas as loudly, “that it is the eye of tlie Pascagoula chief who was murdered by the Spaniards.” " ’They say,’ ” my grandfather began, r Dut what lie sahl was lost in D'Triville’s voice whlcji rose— “It’s a wonderful piece of mechanism, and I would give much to get at tile in terior and learn its secret.’’ Wo were interrupted by a fierce gust o' wind tiiat nearly capsized our boat. In tlitvt moment as we dashed against the preiiiplce of shell and sand I turned to my companion a pair of startled eyes, to meet a face as eager and white as I felt my own to be. “Did you see—?’’ “An entrance to the bank?” he ques tioned. “Yes, with a flight of steps leading up ward?” "I did.” IV. When the fury of the gale abated we effected a landing. Our discovery was at once made known to Monsieur LaMas and my grandfather, who, having had their backs to the shore, had not seen the opening. They decided that it would be well to return to the place when the tide fell, and equipping ourselves with lanterns and wraps, we awaited with unresting minds the hour that would open to us a mys tery which was agreed bore upon the ey e lu Pirate's pocket. V. "Hold! Steady! Now, give me your hand.” It was grandfather speaking. With care he assisted me from the boat to the landing that led up to a broad flat stairway appaicntly melting into the dark, ill-smeling earth. Monsieur La Mas preceded us. D'Tri ville remained to secure tho boat to a huge steel ring that dangled from the st^ne coping that boxed the entrance. The steps led directly toward Pirate’s Pocket. With tedious effort we climbed, reaching at last a second landing that * broke the ascent at a high elevation. Here ft small door confronted us. which upon opening disclosed a huge machine of pistons, propcllors and wheels. Two heavy stone weightts dropped through the floor and we could hear them swinging in the water that rushed below. A chain of heavy wires lay over the wall above and connected with the eye as we afterwards learned. From this apartment we went up an other acclivity of steps, climbing higher and higher, until suddenly the wall en closed us, and without warning, we ‘found ourselves shut In a narrow’, foul smelling cell, with no egress. We were In a panic, but grandfather bravely: “We are trapped, by glory, and if we cannot escape—” "But we shall.” replied the hopeful voice Of D’Triville. “There must be a secret spring somewhere.” I could see the white, anxious faces of tho two older men showing above the lantern light. r could see D'Triville moving his fingers along the grim barri cade with determined precision. "Ah.” cried he presently, “I have found it.” And so he had. Pound a little spring that yielded to his touch, swinging outward a panel of the wail that seemed a shade lighter and smoother than the rest. We crowded through the opening, glad of the torrent of fresh air that blew through the prisons of glass forming the eye, and wonderstruck at what our eyes beheld. Gold, heaps of gold, lay crowded into great boxes of cedar. Inestimable jew els lay flashing back to the gleam of our lanterns, and over all the ponderous lid of the great eye was drooping. The wealth of Pirate's Pocket .was valued at S5.CCO.OOO. Much of the treasure could not be valued, so rare and line was it. Of course tho newspapers exploited our find, and countless reporters and lovers of the sensational came to see for themselves what donderfui things we had discovered. What pleased me most, however, was to hear grandfather say to Monsieur La Mas, as I started north on my wedding journey in the spring: “I’ll be counfounded. old man, if any one can say that D'Triville La Mas married Miriam Stone for her money, for by all that’s fair, lie asked me for the girl over on Dauphin's island before we found the opening to the eye.” 0—0—0—0? * House of a Thousand Caudles * * * * By MEREDITH NICHOLSON, Author “&/>e Main Chance,” Etc 0—0 — 0—0^~-~ - ——— — ( 'opyright, 1905—The Bobbs-Mcrrill Co. IIEN I reached the house I found, to my astonishment, tiiat the widow 1 had left open as I scrambled out the night before was closed. I dropped my bag and crept to the front door, thinking tiiat If Bates had discovered my aibsence it' was useless to attempt any further deception. I was amazed to find tihe great doors of the main entrance flung wide, and in real alarm I ran through the hall and back to the library. Tho nearest door stoop open, and, as I peered in, a curious scene disclosed itself. A few of the large cathedral candles still burned brightly in several places, their flame rising strangely In the gray morn ing light. Books had been taken from the shelves and scultered everywhere, and sharp implements had cut ugly gashes lu the shelving. The drawers con taining sketches and ■p'nbTographs had been pulled out and their contents thrown about and trampled under foot. The house was as silent as a tomb, but as I stood on the threshold trying to real ize what had happened, something stirred by the fiseplace and I crept forward, lis tening, until I stood by the long table beneath the great chandelier. Again 1 heard a sound as of some animal waking and stretching, followed by a moan that was undoubtedly human. Then the hands of a man clutched the farther edge of the table, and slowly and evidently with IhUnite difficulty a figure rose and tho dark face of Bates, with eyes blurred and staring strangely, confronted me. Ho drew his body to its height and leaned h«»nvily upon the table. I snatched a candle and bent toward him to make sure my eyes were not tric-king me. 'hlr. Glenarm! Mr. Glenarm!” he ex claimed in broken whispers. “It Is Bates, sir." “Wihat have you done; wliat has hap pened?” I demanded. He put his hand to his head uncertain ly and gaped as though trying to gather his wits. He was evidently dazed by whatever had occurred, and I sprang around and helped him to a couch. He would not lie down, but sat up, staring and passing his hand over bis head. It was rapidly growing lighter, and I saw a purple and black streak across his temple, where a bludgeon of some sort had struck him. "What does this mean, Bates? Who has been Th the house?” “I can’t tell you, Mr. Glenarm.” “Can’t tell me! You will tell me or go to jail! There's been mischief done here and l don’t intend tt. have any nonsense about it from you. Well—?” He was clearly suffering, but in my auger at the sight of the wreck of the room I graspeo his shoulder and shook hi in roughly. “It was early this morning,” he fal tered. "about 2 o’clock, I heard noises in the lower part of the house. I came down thinking likely it was you, and re membering that you had been sick yester day—” “Yes, go on.’ ! The thought of my truancy was no balm to my conscience just then. “As 1 came into the hall, I saw lights In the library. As you weren’t down last night the room hadn’t been lighted at all. I heard steps, and some on tapping with a hammer—' ’ “Yes; a hammer. Go on!" It was, then, the same old story! The war had been carried openly Into the 'house, but Bates—just why should any one connected with the conspiracy in jure Bates, who stood so near to Pick ering, its leader? The fellow was un doubtedly hurt—there was no mistaking the lump on his head. lie spoke with a painful difficulty that was not assumed, I felt increasingly stire, as be went on. "I saw a man pulling out the books and tapping the inside of the shelves. He was working very fast. And the next tiling I knew lie let in another man through one of the terrace doors—the one 'there t'hat still stands a little open.” He fiinened as he turned slightly- to in dicate it, and his face twitched with pain. "Never mind that; tell the rest of your story.” “Then I ran In, grabbed one of fhe big candelabra from the table, and went for 'file nearest man. They were about to ‘begin on the chimney- breast there—it was Mr. G'lenarm's pride in all the house— and accounts for my being there in front of tho fireplace. They rather got the best of me, sir.” “Clearly; I see they did. You had a hand-to-hand light with them, and being 'two to one—’’ “No; there were two of us—don’t you understand, two of us! There was an other man who came running In from somewhere, and he took sides with me. I thought at first It was you. The rob bers thought so, fhu, for one of them yelled, ’Great God, it's Glenarm!' just like that. But It wasn’t you, but quite another person.” "That's a good story so far; and then what happened?” “I don't remember much more, except that some one soused me with water that helped my head considerably, and the next thing I knew I was staring across the table there at you.” “Who were these men. Bates? Speak up quickly-!” My- tone was peremptory. Here was, l felt, a crucial moment in our relations. “Well.” he began deliberately, "I dis like to make charges against a fellow man, but 1 strongly- suspect one of the men being—’’ “Yes! Tell the whole truth or it will be the worse for y-ou.“ “I very much fear one of them was Ferguson, the gardener over the way. I'm disappointed In film, sir.” "Very good; ana now for the other one.” "I didn't get my eyes on him. 1 had closed with Ferguson and we were having quite a lively time of It when the other one came in; then the man who came to my heip mixed us all up—he was a very lively person—and what became of Ferguson and the rest of It I don’t know.” There was food for thought in what he said. He bad taken punishment in de fense of my- property—t/he crack on his head was undeniable— and I could not abuse him or question his veracity with any grace; not, at least, without time for investigation and study. However, I ven tured to ask him one question. “If you were guessing, should'nt you think it quite likely that Morgan was the other man?” He met my gaze squarely. “I think It wholly possible, Mn Glen- arm.” "And the men wbo helped you—who In the devil was he?” "Bless me, I don't know. Ho disap peared. I'd like mightily to see him again.’’ "Humph! Now- you’d better do some thing for your head. *']! summon tho village doctor if you say so.” “No, thank you, sir. I’ll take care of it myself.” “And now we'll keep quiet about this. Don't mention it or discuss it with any one.” “Certainly not, sir.” He rose, and staggered a little, but crossed to the broad mantel-shelf in the great chimney breast, rested his arm upon it for a moment, passed his hand over the dark wood with a sort of caress, then bent his eyes upon the floor littered with books and drawings and papers torn from the cabinets and all splashed with tallow and wax from the candles. TIio daylight had increased until the havoc wrought by the night's visitors was fully apparent. The marauders had made a sorry- mess of the room, and I thought Bates' lip quivered as he saw tile wreck. “It would have been a blow to Mr. Glenarm; the room was his pride—his pride, sir.” He went out toward the ktchen, and I ran upstairs to my own room. I cursea the folly that had led me to leave ray window open, for undoubtedly Morgan and Ills new- ally. St. Agatha’s gardener, had taken advantage of it to enter the house. Quite likely, too, they had ob served my absence, and this would un doubtedly be communicated to Pickering. 1 threw open my- door and started back with an exclamation of amazement. Standing at my chiffonier, between two windows, was a man, clad in a bath gown—my own. I saw with fury—Ills back to me. the razor at ills face, plac idly shaving himself. Without turning he addressed me. quite coolly and casually, as though his being there was the most natural thing in the world. “Good morning, Mr. Glenarm! Rather damaging evidence that costume. I sup pose it’s the custom c.f the counttry for gentlemen in evening clothes to go out by the window and return by the door. \»iu might think tho other way round preferable.” “Larry!” I shouted. “Jack!” “Kick that door shut and lock it,” he commanded, in a sharp, severe tene that I remembered well—and just now wel comed—in him. “How. why and when—?” “Never mind about me. I'm here— thrown the enemy off for a few days; and you give me lessons in current his tory first, while a climb into my armor. Pray pardon the informality—’’ He seized a broom and began work upon a pair of trousers to which mud and briers clung tenaciously. His coat and hat lay on a chair, they, too, much the worse for rough wear. There was never any use in refusing to obey Larry’s orders, and as he got into his clothes I gave him In as few words as possible the chief incidents that had marked my stay at Glenarm house. Ho continued dressing with care, helping himself to a shirt and collar from my chiffonier and choosing with unfailing eye fhe best tie in my collection. Now and then he asked a question tersely, or, again, he laughed or swore dlre!y in Gaelic. When I had concluded the story of Pickering’s visit and of the conver sation I overheard between the executor and Bates in the church porch, aLrry wheeled round with the scarf half-tied in his fingers and surveyed me commi3- eratingly. “And you didn’t rush them both on the spot and have it out?” “No. I was too much taken aback, for one thing—” “I dare say you were!” “And for another I didn’t think the time ripe. I'm going to boat that fel low. Larry, but I want him to show his hand fully before we come to a smash- up. I know as much about the house and its secrets as he does—that’s one consolation. Sometimes I don't believe there's a shilling here and again I'm sure there's a big stake in it. The fact that Pickering is risking so much to find what's supposed to be hidden here is pretty fair evidence that something's buried on the place.” "Possibly, but they’re giving you a lively boycott. Now where in the devi! have you been?’’ "Well,—“ I began and hesitated. I had not mentioned Marian Devereux and this did not seem the time for confidences of that sort. He took a cigarette from his pocket aand lighted it. "Bah, these women! LTnder the terms of your revered grandfather's will you have thrown away ail your rights. It looks to me, as a member of the Irish bar in bad standing, as the ugh you had delivered yourself up to the enemy, so far as the legal situation is concerned. How does It strike you?” "Of course I’ve forfeited my rights. But I don’t mean that any one shall know it yet a while.” "My lad, don’t deceive yourse!f. Every body round here will know it before night. You ran off, left your window open invitingly, and two gentlemen who meditated breaking in found that they needn't take the trouble, one came in through your own room. noting, c.f course, your absence, let in his friend below, and tore up the place regretta bly.” “Yes, but how did you get here?—if you don't mind telling.” "It's a short story. That litt!e chap from Scotland Yard, who annoyed me so much in New York and drove me to Mexico—for which may he dwell for ever in fiery torment—has never given up. I shook him off. though, at Indianapo lis three days ago. I bought a ticket for Pittsburg with hint at my elbow. I sup pose he thought the chase was growing tame, and that the farther east he could arrest me the nearer I should be to a British consul and tidewater. I went ahead of him into the station and out to the Pittsburg sleeper. I dropped my bag into my section—if that’s what they call it in your atrocious American lan guage—looked out and saw him coming along the platform. Just then the car began to move—they were shunting it about to attach a sleeper that had been brought in from Louisville, and my car riage. or whatever you call it, went skimming out of the sheds into a yard where everything seemed to be most noisy and complex. I dropped off in the dark just befor 0 they ‘began to haul tiie car riage back. A long train of empty goods wagons was just pulling out and I threw my bag Into a wagon and climbed after it. e kept going for an hour or so until I was thoroughly lost, then I took advantage of a stop at a place that seemed to he the end of terrestrial tilings, got out and started across country. I expressed my bag to you the other day frotn a town that rejoiced in the cheer ing name of Kokomo, just to get rid of it. I walked into Annnndale about midnight, found this medieval marvel through the kindness of the station-mas ter and was geconnolterinij with my usual caution when I saw a gentleman romantically entering through an open window.” Larry paused to light a fresh cigar ette. “You always did have a way of arriv ing opportunely. Go on!” “It pleased my fancy to follow him; and by the time I had studied your dig gings here a trifle, tilings began to happen below. It sounded like a St. Patrick’s Day celebration in an Irish village, and I went down at a gallop to see if there was any chance of breaking in. Have you seen the room? Well,”— he gave several turns to his right wrist, as though to test it—“we ail had a jolly time there by the fireplace. An other chap had got in somewhere, so there were two of them. Y’our man—I suppose it’s your man—was defending himself gallantly with a large thing of brass that looked like the pipes of a grand organ—and I sailed in with a chair. My presence seemed to surprise the attacking party, who evidently thought I was you—flattering, I must say, to me!” “You undoubtedly saved Bates’ life and prevented the rifling of the house. And alter you had poured water on Bates— lie's the servant—you came up here—” "That's the way of it.” “You’re a brick. Larry Donovan. There’s only one of you; and now—’’ “And now, John Glenarm, we'v e got to get down to business—or you must. As for me, after a few hours of your enlivening society—” "You don't go a step until we go to gether—no. by the beard of the pliophet! I've a fight on her e and I'm going to win if I die in the struggle, and you’ve got to stay with me to the end.” "But tinder the will you dare not take a boarder.” “Of course, I dare! That will's as 0—0—0—0 though it had never been as far as I'm concerned. My gradfather never expect ed me to sit here alone and be murdered. John Marshall Glenarm wasn't a fool ex actly !’’ “No, but a trifle queer, I should say. I don't have to tell you, old man, that this situation appeals to me. It's my kind of a job. If it weren't that the hounds are at my heels I'd like to stay with you, but you have enough trouble on hands without opening the house to an attack iby my enemies.” “Stop talking about it. I don't propose to be deserted by the the only friend I have in the world when I'm up to my eyes in trouble. Let's go down and get some coffee.” W e found Bates trying to remove the evidences of the night's struggle. He had fastened a cold pack about his head and limped slightly; otherwise he was the same—silent and inexplicable. Daylight had not improved the appear ance of the room. Several hundred books lay scattered over the floor, and the shelves which had held them were hacked and broken. “Bates, if you can give us some cof fee—? Let the room go for the present.” “Y’es, sir.” And Bates—” He paused and Larry's keen eyes were bent sharply upon him. “Mr. Donovan is a friend who will be with me for some time. We'll fix up his room later in the day.” He limped out, Larry's eyes following him. “What do you think of that fellow?” I asked. Larry's face wore a puzzled look. “What do you call hint—Bates? He’s a plucky fellow.” Larry picked up from the hearth the big candelabrum with which Bates had defended himself. It was badly bent and twisted, and Larry grinned. “The fellow who went out through the front door probably Isn’t feeling very well today. Your man was swinging this thing like a windmill.” "I can’t understand it,” I muttered. "I can’t, for the life of me, see why he should have given battle to the enemy. They all belong to Pickering, and Bates is the biggest rascal of the bunch.” "Humph! well consider that later. And would you mind telling me what kind of a tallow foundry this is? I never saw so many candlesticks in my life. I seem to taste tallow. I had no letters from you, and I supposed you were loafing quietly In a grim farm house, dying of ennui, and here you are in an establishment that ought to be the imperial residence of an Eskimo chief. Possibly you have crude petroleum for soup Jtitd whipped salad-oil for desert. I declare, a man living here ought to at tain a high candle-power of luminosity. It’s perfectly immense.” He stared and laughed. “And hidden treasure, and night attacks, and young virgins in the middle distance—yes, I’d really like to stay a while." As we ate breakfast I filled in gaps I had left in my hurried narrative, with telief that I cannot describe filling my heart as I leaned again upon the sym pathy of an old and trusted friend. As Bates came and went I marked Continued on Fourth Page.