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PAGE SIX
(Continued from Page Four.)
The mouse-brown man bowed. “Miss
Rose Trine?” he murmured with a
great deal of deference.
The young woman returned his bow
with a show of perplexity:, “Mr. Dig
by?”
“You are kind to come in response
to my—ah—unconventional invita¬
tion,” said the little man. “Won’t
you—ah—-sit down?”
She said, “Thank you,” gravely, and
took the chair he indicated. And Mr.
Digby, with an admiration he made no
effort to conceal, examined the fair
face turned so candidly to him.
"It is quite comprehensible,” he said
diffidently—“if you will permit me to
say so—now that one sees you, Miss
Trine, it is quite comprehensible why
my employer—ah—feels toward you as
he does.”
The girl flushed. “Mr. Law has told
you?”
“I have the honor to be his nearest
friend, this side the water, as well
as his man of business.”
He paused with an embarrassed ges¬
ture. “So I have ventured to request
this—ah—surreptitious appointment in
order to—ah—take the further liber¬
ty of asking whether you have recent¬
ly sent Alan a message?”
Her look of surprise was answer
enough, but she confirmed it with vig¬
orous denial: “I have not communi¬
cated with Mr. Law in more than a
year!”
“Precisely as I thought,” Mr. Digby
nodded. “None the less, Mr. Law not
long since received what purported to
be a message from you; in fact—a
rose.” And as Miss Trine sat for¬
ward with a start of dismay, he aded:
“I have the information over Mr. Law’s
signature—a letter received ten days
ago—from Quebec.”
“Alan in America!” the girl cried
in undisguised distress.
“He came in response to—ah—the j
message of the rose.”
“But I did not send it!”
"I felt sure of that, because,” said
Mr. Digby, watching her narrowly—
“because of something that accompa¬
nied the rose, a symbol of another sig¬
nificance altogether—a playing card, a
trey of hearts.”
Her eyes were blank. He pursued
with openly sincere reluctance: “I
must tell you, I see, that a trey of
hearts invariably foresignaled an at¬
tempt by ycur father on the life of
Alan’s father.”
With a stricken cry the girl crouched
back in the chair and covered her face
with her hands.
"That is why I sent for you,” Mr.
Digby pursued hastily, as if in hope
of getting quickly over a most unhap¬
py business. “Alan's letter, written
and posted on the steamer, reached me
within twenty-four hours of his arrival
in Quebec, and detailed his scheme to
enter the United States secretly—as
he puts it, ‘by the back door,' by way
of northern Maine—and promised ad¬
vice by telegraph as soon as he
reached Moosehead Lake. He Bhould
have wired me ere this, I am told by
those who know the country he was to
cross. Frankly, I am anxious about
the boy!”
“And I!” the girl exclaimed pitifully.
“To think that he should be brought
into such peril through me!”
“You can tell me nothing?”
"Nothing—as yet. I did not dream
of this—much less that the message
of the rose was known to any but Alan
and myself. I cannot understand!”
“Then I may tell you this much
more, that your father maintains a
very efficient corps of secret agents.”
“You think he spied upon me?” the
girl flamed with indignation.
“I know he did.” Mr. Digby per¬
mitted himself a quiet smile. “It has
seemed my business, in the service of
my employer, to employ agents of my
own. There is no doubt that your
father sent you to Europe for the sole
purpose of having you meet Alan.”
“Oh!” she protested. “But what
earthly motive—?”
“That Alan might be won back to
America through you—and so—”
There w r as no need to finish out his
sentenca The girl was silent, pale
and staring with wide eyes, visibly
mustering her wits to cope with this
emergency.
“I may depend on you,” Mr. Digby
suggested, “to advise me if you find
out anything?”
“For even more.” The girl rose and
extended a hand whose grasp was firm
f>
“Oh, Come, Come!” She Cried Wildly.
and vital on his fingers. ’ A fine spirit
of resolve set her countenance aglow.
“You may count on mo for action on
my own part, if I find circumstances
warrant it. 1 promised not to marry
Alan because of the feud between our
fathers—but not to stand by and see
him sacrificed. Tell me how I may
communicate secretly with you—and
let me go as soon as possible!”
CHAPTER VI!.
The Mutineer.
Within the hour Rose Trine stood
before her father in that somber room
wherein he wore out his crippled days,
in that place of silence and shadows
whose sinister color-scheme of crim¬
son and black was the true livery of
his monomania—his passion for ven¬
geance that alone kept warm the em¬
bers of life in that wasted and move¬
less frame.
An impish malice glimmered in his
sunken eyes as he kept her waiting
upon his pleasure. And when at length
he decided to speak, it was with a ring
of hateful irony in that strangely
sonorous voice of his.
"Rose,” he said slowly—“my daugh¬
ter!—I am told you have today been
guilty of an act of disloyalty to me.”
She said coolly: “You had me spied
upon.”
“Naturally, with every reason to
question your loyalty, I had you
watched.”
She waited a significant moment,
then dropped an impassive monosyl¬
lable into the silence: “Well?”
"You have visited the man Digby,
servant and friend of the man I hate
—and you love.”
She said, without expression: “Yes.”
“Repeat what passed between you.”
“I shall not, but on one condition.”
“And that is?”
“Tell me first whether it was jou
who sent the rose to Alan Law®— and
more, where Judith has been during
the last fortnight?” %
“I shall tell you nothing, my child.
Repeat”—the resonant voice rang with
inflexible purpose—“repeat what the
man Digby told you!”
The girl was silent. He endured her
stare for a long minute, a spark of
rage kindling to flame the evil old eyes.
Then his one living member that
had power to serve his iron will, a
hand like the claw of a bird of prey,
moved toward a row of buttons sunk
in the writing-bed of his desk.
“I warn you I have ways to make
you speak—” girl
With a quick movement the
bent over and prisoned the bony wrist
in her strong fingers. With her other
hand, at the same time, she whipped
open an upper drawer of the desk and
took from it a revolver which she
placed at a safe distance.
“To the contrary,” she said quietly,
“you will remember that the time has
passed when you could have me pun¬
ished for disobedience. You will call
nobody: if interrupted, 1 shan’t hesi
ate to defend myself. And now”—lay
ng hold of the hack of his chair, she
aoved it some distance from the desk
-“you may as well be quiet while I
ind for myself what I wish to know.”
For a moment he watched in silence
s she bent over the desk, rummaging
ts drawers. Then with an infuriated
esture of his left hand, he began to
urse her.
She shuddered a little as the black
aths blistered his thin old lips, dedi
ating her and all she loved to sin,
nfamy and sorrow; but nothing could
lay her in her purpose. He was
ireathless and exhausted when she
traightened up with an exclamation
>f satisfaction, studied intently for a
ooment a sheaf of papers, and thrust
hem hastily into her hand-bag, togeth
ir with the revolver.
Then touching the push-button
vhich released a secret and little-used
loor, without a backward glance she
lipped from the room and, closing the
loor securely, within another minute
lad made her way unseen from the
louse.
CHAPTER VIII.
The Incredible Thing.
Broad daylight, the top of a morn¬
ing as rare as ever broke upon the
north country: Alan Law opening be¬
wildered eyes to realize the substance
of a dream come true.
True it proved iteelf, at least, in
part. He lay between blankets upon a
couch of balsam fans, in a corner of
somebody's camp—a log structure,
weather-proof, rudely but adequately
furnished. His clothing, rough-dried
but neatly mended, lay upon a chair
at his side.
He rose and dressed in haste, at
once exulting in his sense of complete
rest and renewed well-being, a prey
to hints of an extraordinary appetite,
and provoked by signs that seemed to
bear out the weirdest flights of his de¬
lirious fancies.
There were apparently Indisputable
evidences of a woman's recent pres¬
ence in the camp: blankets neatly
folded upon a second bed of aromatic
balsam in the farther corner; an effect
of orderliness not common with
guides; a pair of dainty buckskin
gauntlets depending from a nail in the
wall; and—he stood staring witiessly
at it for more than a minute—in an
old preserve jar on the table, a single
rose, warm and red, dew upon its
petals!
There was also fire in the cook
stove, with a plentiful display of
things to cook; hut despite his hunger
Alan didn’t stop for that, but rushed
to the door and threw it open and him¬
self out into the sunshine, only to
pause, dashed, chagrined, mystified.
There was no other living thing in
6ight but a loon that sperted h r ;;p
the river and saluted him with a
s hriek of mocki ng laughter.
_
THE COVINGTON NEWS, WED \I is, mi.
The place was a cleft fn the hills,
a table of level land some few acres
in area, bounded on one hand, be¬
neath the cliff from which he had
dropped, by a rushing river fat with
recent rains; on the other by a second
cliff of equal height. Upstream the
water curved round the shoulder of a
towering hill, downstream the cliffs
closed upon it until it roared through
a narrow gorge.
Near the camp, upon a strip of
shelving beach that bordered the river
where it widened into a deep, dark
pool, two canoes were drawn up, bot¬
toms to the sun. Dense thickets of
pines, caks, and balsams hedged in
the clearing.
He was, it seemed, to be left severe¬
ly to himself, that day; when he had
cooked and made way with an enor¬
mous breakfast, Alan found nothing
better to do till time for luncheon
than to explore this pocket domain.
He feasted famously again at noon;
whiled away several hours vainly whip¬
ping the pools with rod and tackle
found in the camp, for trout that he
really didn’t hope would rise beneath
that blazing sun; and toward three
o’clock lounged back to his aromatic
couch for a nap.
The westering sun had thrown a
deep, cool shadow across the cove
when he was awakened by importun¬
ate hands and a voice of magic.
Hose Trine was kneeling beside him,
clutching his shoulders, calling on him
by name—distracted by an inexplica¬
ble anxiety.
He wasted no time discriminating
between dream and reality, but gath¬
ered both into his arms. And for a
moment she rested there unresisting,
sobbing quietly.
“What is it? What is it, dearest?”
he questioned, kissing her tears away.
“To find you all right. ... I
was so afraid!” she cried brokenly.
“Of what? Wasn’t I all right when
you left me here this morning?”
She disengaged with an effort, rose,
and looked down strangely at him.
“I did not leave you here this morn¬
ing, Aian. I wasn’t here—”
That brought him to his own feet
n a jiffy. “You were not!” he stam¬
mered. “Then who—?”
“Judith,” she stated with conviction.
“Impossible! You don’t under¬
stand.”
The girl shook her head. “Yet I
know: Judith was here until this
w; gjfia, r m
;i|
Precipitating Doth Into That Savage
Welter.
morning. I tell you I know—I saw
her only a few hours ago. She passed
us in a canoe -with one of her guides,
while we watched In hiding on the
banks. Not that alone, but another of
her guides told mine she was here
with you. She had sent him to South
Portage for quinine. He stopped
there to get drunk—and that’s how
my guide managed to worm the infor¬
mation from him.”
Alan passed a hand across his eyes.
“I don’t understand,” he said dully.
“It doesn't seem possible she
could—”
A shot interrupted him, the report
of a rifle from a considerable distance
upstream, echoed and re-echoed by the
cliffs. And at this, clutching fran¬
tically at his arm, the girl drew him
through the door and down toward the
river.
“Oh, come, come!” she cried wild¬
ly. “There’s no time!”
“But, why? What was that?”
“Judith is returning. I left my
guide up the trail to signal us. Don’t
you know what it means if we don’t
manage to escape before she gets
here?”
“But how?”
“According to the guide the river’s
the ouly way other than the trail.”
“The current is too strong. They
could follow—pot us at leisure from
the banks.”
“But downstream—the current with
us—”
“Those rapids?”
“We must shoot them!”
"Can it be done?”
“It muri be!”
Two more shots put a period to
his doubts and drove it home. He
offered no further objection, but
turned at once to launch one of the
canoes.
As soon as it was in the water, Rose
took her place in the bow, paddle in
hand, and Alan was about to step in
astern when a fourth shot sounded
and a bullet kicked up turf within a
dozen feet. A giauee discovered two
figures debouching into the clearing.
He. dropped in;o place and, planting
(Continued on i‘a ',0 Three.)
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