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ZEN of the Y. D. A Novel of the Foothills By ROBERT STEAD Author ol "The Cow Puncher"—“The Homesteader,”—"Neighbors.” etc. Copr^'ROBERT CHAPTER XVll—Continued. —2o— vou have, and it basn t spoiled JOB a bit. Oh, it didn’t take me long to run you down. But I didn’t go breezin’ up to your house, like I might - ve done if I hadn’t been considerate of you. I didn’t want no scandal about It on your account. s*o 1 Just laid low for awhile. That is bow I found out about Grant.” “About Grant? Wlmt did you find out about Mr. Grant?” He made to draw her closer to him, but she held him at bay. ‘‘Oh, you’re innocent, ain't you, Zen? Wlmt about Grunt? That’s a good one. Your hus band would enjoy that!” “If you’re going to talk to me like this we can’t be friends, Mr. Drazk.” (Still no sign of help). “My friends mustn't think evil of me.” Drazk laughed. “They say a friend is one who knows ull about you and loves you just the same,” lie leered. “That’s me, Zen. I know all about you —you and this Grant fellow. How he's been visitin’ you when your hus band was uway, und sometimes when the maid was away, too. I’ve kept pretty close tab on him. Hasn't been coinin' around so often lately. Well, true love never did run smooth. Now I could tell your husband all tills, and perhaps I ought to; Trarisley and me Is old friends, worked together for years, but I ain’t that kind of a fellow. You see, Zen, I know all about you, and I love you Just the same. I love you—Just—the samel” Be forced her toward him, and she knew that She had spun~out her re prieve to its end. She was In the pow er of this madman. She tried to break from his grasp, but her efforts were puny and wasted agaihst his passionate strength. She struck out wildly, but he crushed down her blows; wrapped his arras about hers; drew her face to his. “I came to collect an account, Zen,” lie hissed, “and now you are goln’—to pay I” CHAPTER XVIII Transley, returning by nn earlier train than he had, expected, found Sarah at the house and Wilson en gaged In dialogue with the family pig. The lad, on hearing the motor, rushed to his father’s arms. “Well, well, what u big boy you are 1" cried Transley, swinging him up to his shoulders. “And how is the pig? And how Is your friend ..Grant ?” “Mother hasn’t let me go to see him lately. I don’t know why., Ever since the night I slept at his house—” "You slept at his house? When?" “The day you went away. And mother was there In the morning—” “Wilson, where Is your mother?” “I don't know, daddy.” He strode sharpiy Into the house. “Sarah, where Is Mrs. Transley?” “I don’t know, sir," said the maid. Then, frightened out of her reticence by her master’s unusual severity —“I think she has gone to the old quarry, sir. She often goes up there of an afternoon." “A trystlng-plaee!” Transley gasped Inwardly. He dropped (he boy and, his own room, found a revolver and cartridges. A moment later he was swinging In long, angry steps up the quarry road. Wilson, puzzled by the sudden Interruption of his father’s preetlng, followed at a discreet dis tance. "I've suspected—l’ve suspected," Trnr.sley was raging ns he walked; "I’ve suspected —more than I’ve said. *>ive ’em enough rope. That’s my plan. And now they’ve taken It. By God, If they have!” " ith every step the wrath and hor ror within him grew. lie was at the Quarry before he knew It. He paused a moment to listen. Yes, there Were people present. There were sounds—God, It sounded like a fight I Transley rushed In. A man and a w oman were reeling In ench other’s RrTns - "i hate yon 1 I hate you !” the was crying. “Yon coward! ou coward 1” The woman was his „ p The man was—not Dennison Brant. APhough Transloy had a revolver In • * hooket It was not his customary Wen P° n ' and his thought did not turn jjaturally to It. In this tremendous J' r ' he forgot it altogether. He r ,' s,lP '; upon Ills wife’s' assailant, C ,1.. ! ng him about the throat. - f he strength of a madman flung Zen to the ground, where . " * l ' l unconscious at his feet. Then “ ’ r o himself free from Transient's ’’out his throat. The next mo te e ,wo men w ere swavlng about “ a of death. As they swung In each other’s arms, crushing, choking, clutching at each other’s throats, it was slowly forced home upon Transley that his was a losing fight. His assailant had the strength, and, after a hesitating mo ment of surprise, the ferocity of a lion. He had broken Transley’s first grip of advantage about his throat and seemed in momentary prospect of reversing the situation. There were no talk, no cries, no oaths; It was a silent fight save the grunting and pnnting which became more and more labored as the minutes drew on. In their clutches Drazk’s stubbled face rubbed into Transley’s well-groomed cheek; his snarling teeth snapped, but missed, at Transley’s Jaw. Then it was that Transley remem bered his revolver. Breaking Druzk’s grip by a superhuman effort, he drew the weapon and fired. The shot went wild, and the next instant Drazk was upon him again. In the struggle the revolver fell from Transley’s hand, and both men began fighting toward it. As Drazk’s fingers clutched It Transley kicked bis feet from under him, and the two went down together. Rolling about on the rocky floor of the quarry they approached, slowly, unconscious ly, the edge of the precipice that fell away to the river. On tiie very edge Transley realized this new and hideous danger, and scrambled to his feet, dragging Drazk with him. Drazk realized It, too, and gleefully, fiendishly Joined again In the combat, deliberately forcing the fight toward the river. “I’ve got you, Transley I” he hissed, speaking for the first time since Trnnsley’s fingers had. clutched about his throat; “I’ve got you, and you’re goln’ over there —with me. Zen tried to drown me once; now I’ll drown you, If I have to go with you. I’ve got you. Transley!" “Drazkl” Transley exclaimed, a light of recognition breaking upon him. "You 1" “Yes, me —Zen’s old lover, and you give her to me, or we go out together I” “You’re mad, Drnzk, mad 1" Transley cried. “Why-" But at that moment Drnzk, by a sudden contortion, whipped a knife The Next Moment the Two Men Were Swaying About In a Struggle Of Death. from his pocket. Transley felt Its sting—once, twice, three times; then darkness fell. Zen, recovering from her stun, sat up In time to see her husband staggering In the arms of Drazk. Half a mile away Dennison Grant had been lazily plowing up and down his prairie field when he suddenly saw Wilson approaching at his topmost speed. Since the night of the storm he had missed the boy tremendously; sometimes he had thought that If only he might have the companionship of Wilson he could be reconciled to the loss of Zen. He knew that n veto had hoen placed on Wilson’s visits, and he bore Zen no ill will; he felt that he understood her motives. But now, as the boy came racing toward him. Grant felt Ids heart bouncing about In un extraordinary manner. “Why, what’s the matter?” Grant cried as Wilson drew up beside him. “Has something happened to the pig?’ It was a moment before the boy could speak. •<A man —Is —fighting my—father— and shooting at him,” he gasped. “And my mother’s —dead I” THE DANIELSVILLE MONITOR, DANIELSVILLE, GEORGIA. Grant cleared the plow at a bound. “Where?” he demanded. "At the old quarry. I ran all the way.” But Grant was already stripping the harness from Prince. The next mo ment he had Hung himself upon the horse’s back, and, leaving the boy to follow ns he could, was galloping across the prairie to the quarry trail. Under his urging the astonished plow horse developed a quite surprising speed; in n couple of minutes they were on the old road to the quarry, and a moment later horse and rider dnshed Into the rock-rimmed cut which overhung the river. Grant's first glimpse was of Zen; she had struggled to her feet; thank God, she was not dead. Then he saw the two men by the edge of the cliff; Transley he recognized; saw the knife rise and strike— The blow Grant landed In Drazk’s face sent that gentleman spinning like a top. Like a top, too, Drazk wobbled at the end of his spin; wobbled over the edge of the precipice, and dropped out of sight. Grant fell on his knees beside the stricken Transley; leaned over; raised the quivering form In his arms. Zen, beside him, drew the sorely mangled head to her breast and whispered words of endearment Into ears soon closing to all mortal sounds. . . . Presently Transley opened his eyeA. They weje sane, quiet eyes now; the fight was over; only the eternities lay ahead. "Grant—tell me one thing," he mur mured. “You have been straight— with Zen?’ “As God hears me,” Grant an swered. For an Instant the eyes of the rivals —and friehds—met; rivals no longer; friends only, forever. Then the form of Transley shivered in the arms of Zen and Dennison Grant 1 shivered, and settled Into eternal sleep. •••■ • • • • The sun of anettre? summer was flooding the towny flanks of the foot hills when Zen and Dennison Grant rode together over the old trail to the Y.D. Since Transley' death-Grant had not spoken to Zen of love; he seemed to know that at the proper time Zen herself would break silence. And now she hnd usked him to accompany her to her father's* home, and to spend a few days roaming their old haunts In the foothills. Y.D., older, but In unimpaired vigor, greeted him boisterously';, “Wqll, well, you old coyotel -Had. to .oome back to the hills! They all do. If J. was a young man again I’d get. mo a herd o’ heifers an* trek Into the back country, spite o’ hell an’ high watet—"' The greeting of the rancher’s wife was less effusive, but no less sincere. The evening was spent lr hospitality. The next afternoon Zen appeared at # the gate with horses saddled for two. "Come, Denny, we are going for a ride,” she announced, “and In a few minutes their mounts were pounding down the trail which led over the foot hills to the South Y.D. Zen was strangely silent upon their ride, and Grant, nfter futile attempts to engage her In conversation, was content to ride at her 14a and adrglre her horsemanship and her beauty. The Astronomer of Vermont Has Telescope in Cave Going underground to look at the heavens may seem like a strange anom aly; yet that Is the method used by Janies Hartness. former governor of Vermont, noted Inventor and manufac turer and amateur astronomer. On his hillside estate at Springfield, Vt Mr. Hartness has constructed the strangest astronomical observatory In the world—a subterranean cave of concrete, containing rooms fitted up as a laboratory, office, study and re tiring and storage rooms, says the Kan sas City Times. Connecting with his home by 8 200-foot tnnnel, the cave ends with the observation chamber, a concrete structure from which Juts a cast-iron revolving turret that holds the telescope. This observatory, says Popular Sci ence Monthly, Is little short of revolu tionary from the standpoint of the or thodox astronomer. In fact, astrono mers and makers of astronomical in struments. when they saw-Mr, Hart ness’ plans, assured him that his ob servatory would be a failure, that air currents rising from his heated tur ret would obscure the skies from the eye of the telescope. But Mr. Hart ness, father of more than one hun suffering and the years had left her strangely unsenrred; she seemed to Grnht wholly as adorable as on that day of her unspoken confession when they had met at the ford. Soon she must speak I Well, he had waited; he still could wait. They followed the trail, little cliunged by all the passage of years, down the slopes to the South Y.D. They forded the river, and Zen swung her horse about In the grove of cotton woods. “You remember this spot, Denny?” she asked. “It Is where we first met.” “I remember," he said. No, he would not be tempted into a demonstration. She must lead. The sun was gilding the mountain tops with gold, and gilding, too, Zen’s fnce and lmlr with beauty Ineffable. For a moment she sat in the slanting light like a statue of bronze. For an Instant her eys met his; then fell. She spurred her horse to a plunge and gal loped ahead up the valley. Miles passed, and the quick twi light of the foothills was upon them before she drew up ugaln. This time It was by a great bowlder, a sort of flat rock stranded on the sloping shoulder of a hill. Something seemed to burst In Grunt’s throat us he rec ognized It—the rock on which they bad spent that memorable night so long ago when the world and they were young 1 Thnnk God, Zen was young still! Romance burned In ner heart —who but Zen would have thought of this? He sprang from his horse, and she from hers. He approached her with open arms. “Zen —you have brought me here for a purpose I Don’t deny ltl I un derstand 1” She was In his arms. “How well you read one’s mind,” she uiurmbred. “But oh. how slowly!” He held her tight. Thero were worlds to Bay, but he could whisper only “Zen—my Zen," into the tungled glory of her hair. At length she held him gently away. “I believe someone Is coming up the trail,” she said. It was true enough; a horse and rider were rapidly approaching. As he skirted the hill he caught sight of them, swung off from the trail and rode up beside them.. ; “Ah, here you are I” he exclaimed. “Hope I didn’t keep you waiting, Mrs. Transley?” “You arc punctuality Itself,” Zen said, as she took his hnnd. “You haven’t met Mr. Grant? Denny, this Is Mr. Munroe —the reverend Mr. Munroe.” “The reverend I What 1 How l Zen, explain things I” “Very simple. Mr. Munroe was to meet us here at eight. It’s eight o’clock, and here he Is.” Zen was unstrapping a kit from her saddle. “I have a document here —If I haven’t lost it —which will Interest Mr. Munroe. Ah, here It Is!" She produced nn envelope, and Mr. Munroe examined the contents. “Seems all in ordsr,” he remnrked. “A license authorizing the marriage of Dennison Grunt and Zenith Transley. This rock should make a very ac ceptable pulpit. Suppose, Mr.-Grant, you take tills woman’s hand In yours and stand before me?" It was dark when the minister, hav ing completed the ceremony and shared In the supper which Zen produced from a saddlebag, said a hearty adieu and turned his horse’s head down tho val ley. Dennison und Zen listened to the pounding of hoofs until It died out In the distance. Then the tremendous, the immeasurable silence of the hills wrapped them all about, folded them In Its friendly arms, fondled and caressed them on the threshold of their new life. . . . After awhile the moon came up, white and glorious, as It had that night so many years before. (THE END.] dred Important Inventions, built the observatory as he planned and It has proved successful. “When I first took up astronomy," says Mr. Hartness, “I found there were certain inconveniences connected with looking through the telescope I hnd mounted on my lawn. In the warm weather there were mosquitoes. In the fall and winter the cold winds chilled me to the bones. So I built my underground laboratory for self protection, and I found I was helped rather than hampered by my lack of technical knowledge of approved meth ods.” Was It a Hint? Elderly Husband —There goes Mrs. Smith. Hasn’t she lost her husband lately? Young Wife —Yes, poor thing. I really believe black would be becom ing to me, also, George. Character Character Is bounded on the north by Industry, on the east by Integrity, on the south by morality and on tha west by sobriety. CAP m % ANO^S BF.I I .S I® FACING WRONG WAY In Arkansas a man and his wife were sitting outside their house when n funeral procession passed. The man was comfortably seated In a chair that was tilted back towards the street, Ills feet on the sill of an open window. "I think that’s the funeral of ol’ man Williams,” he remarked. “Reckon It’s the biggest seen in these parts for a while, ain’t It, Car’ltne?” “A purty good-sized one, Bud," his wife replied. “I sure would like to see it,” said Bud. "What u pity I alnt’ facin’ that way I” Suppose He Didn’t Terry, riding with Tim In the lat ter’s motor car, began to worry as they ap; cached a grade crossing neck ami neck with an express train. “Wouldn’t ye better stop and let her go by first?” he asked. “Aw,, wlint’3 the matter wld ye?” demanded Tim. “Can’t ye see the sign tel I In’ the Ingineer to look out for tIT cars?”—Capper’s Weekly. Ignition The fOrce \yns out to the bookkeeper alone In the store. A handsome young chap strode In. “Do they keep automobile' accessories here?” he asked. The little bookkeeper smiled her sweetest.. “drily .me," she replied.— Good Hardware. Taking No Chancea Click—l never knew such a fuss? man. / ‘ *' Clack—What’s he done now? Click—He so*ld his plot In the ceme tery because (hey burled a man who died of contagious disease too near It —American Legion Weekly. AT THE BIER "You say he- was 1 no believer In signs?” “Couldn’t ha we been—drove full tilt right by one' .marked ‘Danger—s3fmr up/” ' \ . , Investments > In this, a period of. unrest ,-And curious Irritation, It's KCwlntf harder to Invest Without investigation. Public School Democracy Asks a correspondent of Doc Brad?: “How long before my hoy can go out after measles.” “The boy doesn’t have to go out after measles. Just give him a seat in school and they will come to him.” —Detroit News. The Specialist Enraged Father (at top of stairs, 2:30 a. in.)— All right, Maud! I only say It’s a pity he doesn’t know how to say good night. Maml (from below) —Oh, doesn’t he, though? tfou ought to come and take a look. True to Form Tom—l hear that Ted has had an accident. Bob —Yes; someone gave him a tiger cub and told him It would eat off his hand. “Well?" “It did!’’ LIGHT ENOUGH “How could you two see where yon were going in the durk?” “My dear, Bob was fairly glowing with delight!” Two Heads Wh*n he proposed he lost his head. Which fact he uulckly told her. She didn't mind, for she Instead Put her head on his shoulder.