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RINGS MATE
BY ROSITA FORBES &re
STORY FROM THE START
Rosemary Crofton is visiting
the, governor’s palace in Fez,
Morocco, with her aunt, Lady
Tregarten, A Frenchman, De
Vries, makes love to her. He tells
her of the Kaid, a mysterious
person in the service of the
sultan. Rosemary repulses De
Vries’' love. Next morning, while
riding, she Is thrown from her
horse and rendered unconscious.
She is rescued by Rliff tribes
men and meets the Kaid, who
turns out to be an Englishman.
The Kaid says it would jeopar
dize his cause to return her to
Fez. Pete, an Australian, and
Zarifa, a servant, are assigned to
care for her. She learns the
Kaid’s name is Westwyn. Mar
tengo, a Spaniard, is attracted
by her beauty,
CHAPTER lll—Ccntinued
sl
“Dios! You come from Fez! Par
don my curiosity, but it is an un
usual route.”
*“Yes,” said Resemary, and re
mained mute, -
Juan was too wisge to press the
point. “At least 1 can lend you a
bath,” he said and laughed. “What a
gift to offer a lady.” He bit back the
compliment on his tongue,
“I should be grateful,” said Rose
mary. “Pete seemed to doubt there
being any suitable . refeptacle, Tt
seems most people use the stream.”
“Not I,” exclaimed Martengo. “I go!
I run! But I shall retuen in a min
ute.”
In truth he did hurry, most unusual
ly, but then for years he had not seen
anything so lovely as the vision in
the leather coat and muddy riding
boots. When he returned with a shab
by canvas bath, a pillow, and various
other objects he had- eaught up at
random, he found Pete in possession,
“Nothing doing,” said the Austra
lian, blocking the doorway, but Rose
mary’s voice came from within,
“Don't be absurd” She pushed
past the Kaid's henchman and smiled
on Juan when she saw his burden.
“A thousand thanks., I am so grate
ful.”
“But you must need so many things.
Tell me, what can I do?” It was im
- possible to enter the two-roomed stone
house flattened against the hillside, for
the Australian bulked in the yard.
“Tomorrow,” said Rosemary at last,
in answer to the Basque's multiple
offers of assistance, “I am tired now.
I must rest.” She was uncomfortable
under Pete's eyes and even the Riffian
woman seemed to glance disapproving
ly at Martengo. She looked up at the
dark, heavily lined face. 'There was
menace in the overbold expression, but
the voice was kind and voluble., Sym
pathy Impregnated it,
When Juan left, the impression of
considerate friendship he had tried so
hard to establish was not wholly re
pudiated by Rosemary, .
Pete bestirred himself on her be
half. Finally, having eclumsily, but
effectively, arranged everything neces
sary to her comfort, he set a hurricane
lamp on the solitary table, propped a
pehble under its shortest leg, and in
formed Rosemary, In a minimum of
words, that Zarifa, the Rlff girl, would
sleep on her threshold and that he
himself was going to camp iln the
gatchouse, a cubby-hole above the
wall, “You're sure safe,” he added,
and went out,
Rosemary was still sitting on the
couch, contemplating the preparations
of Zarifa, who was removing one of
the coverings from her head before
rolling up on a mat to sleep, when
Pete’s head reappeared round the door,
“That Martengo I 8 a wrong un!" he
gnld. “Don’t you have anything to do
with him. Keep clear, ‘IT #ay” and,
with n final grunt, he disappeared,
For three days Rosemary followed
the Australian’s counsel, She stayed
indoors, read a motley collection of
old papers which Pete produced for
her, and mended the remnants of her
stockings, w
Zarifa constituted Werself watch fog
and carrled her mistreds’ excuses to
Martengo, but the Spaniard was per
sistent. He hung about the path
which was the sole menns of egress
from the guest house, until his un
usual patience was rewarded. Iltose
mary. Impatient of solitnry ennfine-
ment, breke bounds to go for a walk.
With a long boyish stride, she swung
away from the village, up toward the
pass. Martengo let her go half a mile
before he caught her up.
“How delightful!” he greeted her,
too wise to make any comment on her
seclusion. “May I walk with you? I
have to cross the shoulder—" he ges
tured up to the crag above them.
Rosemary did not know how to re
fuse, did not even know that she want
ed to. To talk with anybody would
be a relief.
“Are you fairly comfortable at the
guest house?” inquired Martengo, and
was careful -to keep the subsequent
conversation on so even a basis that,
before they were half way up the
slope, Rosemary was responding not
only naturally but with animation,
and, at last, reassured by his detach
ment, she explained how she came to
the Riff,
Amazement and sympathy, both im
personal, were obvious in her com
panion’s face. *“DBut, I don’t under
stand! You were only two days’ jour
ney from Fez. Surely some of the
Uerga men could have taken you
back.”
Rosemary explained further. “Your
Kaid imagined I should give away the
pass.”
“Dios!” exclaimed the Spaniard,
bitterly. “He does not know women.”
The girl was a little touched, a little
distrustful. “What would you have
done?’ she asked, unsmiling.
“Sent you back, as near Fez as I
dared. One has no right to mix
women up in this sort of affair.,”
Rosemary studied him speculatively.
A project was shaping in her brain,
illusive as yet. Martengo appeared
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“] Hate the Place.” There Was Such
Passion in the Curt Words That the
Man Started.
unconscious of her gaze., “Would he
help me?” speculated Rosemary, and
was not so wide in her Judgment as
to discard the suggestion of money,
So, for a week of constant meetings,
these two played at cross purposes,
The girl planned eseape, wondered if
the chosen tool would prove rellable,
wondered still more how to broach the
subject. The man purposed making
himself Indispensable and later recon:
clling Rosemary to her temporary fuate,
One day they sat on a rock above
the village, and the girl rolled pebbles
Into a minlature avalanche, *“l'd like
to blot out the whole village,” she
sald, “I hate the place.” There wns
such passion In the curt words that
the man started,
“It's a poor sort of setting for you,’
“It's not that. But I've nothing te
do! I'm a virtual prisoner, watched
by Zarifa and Pete.” She tifned to
him lmpetuously *I shall go mnd if
I can't escape!”
Martengo guve her one glance bhe
tween narrowed lds., ““I'here are
many ways of escape!” he sald, while
that specialized brain of his consid
ered, discarded, and readjusted,
(TO BE CONTINUEDL.)
Many a man is willing to lose a
friend in order to acquire a dollur,
HERALD, FOLKSTON, GEORGIA.
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Seating Plan for Dempsey-Tunney Battle
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ACCUSED OF MURDER
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Is nccused of pouring earbolie neld
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Lewis Fisher, engineer on the vessel,
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when the ship reached Englund and
was returned to the United States for
trial,