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SS—Tppuuf‘n
4
ONE
• • A Powerful Story of • •
• • Adventure, Intrigue and Love ® •
THIN
LAW
• •' By*MARVIN DANA from the • •
• • Play of BAYARD VE1LLER • •
What Has Gone Before
Mary Turner, a beautiful and refined girl, worked in tin great Gli
der store in New York.
There had been theft# in the store. They had been traced eventu
ally to a certain department, that in which Mary worked. The detective
was alert. Sotae valuable silks were missed. Search followed immedi
ately. The goods were found In Mary’s locker That was enough. She
war charged with the theft. She protested innocence—only to be laugh
ed at in derision by iter accusers; Every thief declares innocence. Mr.
Gilder himself was emphatic against her. The thieving had been long
continued. An example must be made. The girl w'as arrested. The
jury found her guilty and she was sentenced to prison for three years.
Dick Gilder, the store proprietor’s son, returns unexpectedly from
Europe because he was homesick for his father. The latter’s secretary
tells him that Mr. Gilder has gone to court, that one of the girls was ar
rested for stealing.
“And Dad went to court to get her out of the scrape!" cries Dick
’ That’s just like the old man."
Now Go On With the Story
Copyright, 1913. by the H. K. Fly Com
pany. The play "Within the Ijhw" is
oopvrlghted by Mr. Velller and this
novelization of it is published by his
permission. The American Play Com
pany is the sole proprietor of The ex
clusive rights of the representation
and performance of "Within the I jaw"
in all languages
TODAY’S INSTALLMENT.
Gilder settled himself again in his
chair and gazed benlgnantly on his son.
"Pretty well,” he said, contentedly;
"pretty well. son. I'm glad to see you
home again, my boy,” There was a
great tenderness in the usually rather
1 coM gray eyes
The young man answered promptly,
with delight in his manner of speech,
and a sincerity that revealed the un-
deilylng merit of his nature
"And I’m glad to be home, Dad, to
be”—there was again that clearing of
the throat, but he finished bravely—
"with you."
The father avoided a threatening dis
play of emotion by an abrupt change of
subject to the trite.
"Have a good time?” he Inquired cas
ualty, while fumbling with the papers
on the desk
Dick’s face broke in a smile of reml
nlscent happiness
"The time of my young life!” He
paused, and the smile broadened. There
wap a mighty enthusiasm In his voice
as he continued: ”1 tell you, Dad, It’s
a fact that I did almost break the bank
at Monte t’nrlo I’d have done It sure, if
only my money had held out.”
"It seems to me that I’ve heard some
thing of the sort before," was Glider’s
caustic comment. Rut his smile was
still wholly sympathetic. He took a
curious vicarious delight In the esca
pades of his son. probably because he
himself had committed no follies in his
callow days. "Why didn’t you cable
me 0 ” he asked, puzzled at such restraint
on the part of his son.
Her Face Lighted.
Dick answered with simple sincerity.
"Because It gave me a capital excuse
for coming home."
It was Sarah who afforded a diversion.
She had known Dick whila he was yet a
child, had bought him candy, had felt
toward him a maternal liking that In
creased rather than diminished as he
grew to manhood. Now her face light
ed ut sight of him and she smiled a
welcome.
"I see you Imve found him," she said,
with a ripple of laughter.
Dick welcomed this interruption of
the graver mood.
"Sadie,” he said, with a manner of the
utmost seriousness, "you are looking
finer than ever. And how thin you have
grown!"
The girl, eager with fond fancies to
ward the slender ideal, accepted the
compliment literally.
"Oh, Mr. Dick!" she exclaimed, rap
turously. "How much do you think I
have lost?
The whimsical heir of the house of
Gilder surveyed his victim critically,
then spoke with judicial solemnity.
"About two ounces, Sadie.”
There came a look of deep hurt on Sa
die’s face at the flippant jest, which
Dick himself was quick to note.
He had not guessed she wan thus
•cutely sensitive concerning her plump
ness. Instantly, he was all contrition
over ills unwitting offense Inflicted on
her womanly vanity.
"Oh, I’m sorry, Sadie." he exclaimed
penitently. "Please don’t be really angry
with me. Of course. I didn’t mean—”
"To twit on facts!” the secretary In
terrupted bitterly.
Not Plump Enough.
"Pooh!" Dick cried, craftily. "You
aren’t plump enough to he sensitive
about t. Why, you’re just right There
was boiuclbing very boyish about his
manner, as he caught at the girl’s arm.
A memory of the days when she had
cuddled him caused him to speak warm
ly, forgetting the presence of his fath
er. "Now, don’t be angry, Sadie. Just
give me a little kiss, as you used to
do.” He swept her into his arms, and
h1s lips met hers in a hearty caress.
’There!" ha cried. "Just to show
there’.' no ill feeling
The girl was completely mollified,
though in much embarrassment.
"Why, Mr. Dick!" she stammered. In
confusion "Why, Mr Dick’’’
Gilder, who had watched the scene
In great astonishment, now interposed
to end It.
"Stop, Dick!" he commanded, crisply
"You are actually making Sarah blush.
1 think that’s about enough, son."
But a sudden unaccustomed gust of
affection swirled in the breast of the
lad. Plain Anglo-Saxon as he was. with
all that implies to the avoidance of dis
plays of emotion, nevertheless he had
been for a long time in lands far from
home, where the habits of Impulsive and
affectionate people were radically un
like our own austerer forms. So now.
under the spur of an Impuse suggested
by the dalliance with the buxom sec
retary'. he grinned widely and went to
his father.
"A little kiss never hurts any one.’’
he declared, blithely. Then he added
vivaciously: "Here. I'll show you!"
Clasped His Father.
With the words, he clasped his arms
around his father’s neck, and, before
that amazed gentleman could under
stand his purpose, he had kissed sound
ly first the one cheek and then the
other, each with a hearty, wholesome
smack of Alia! piety. This done, he
stook back, still beaming happily, while
the astounded Sarah tittered bewilderly.
For his own part. Dick was quite
ashamsd He loved his fathejv For
once he had expressed that fondness
in a primitive fashion, and he was glad
The older man withdrew a step, and
there rested motionless, under thV sway
of an emotion akin to dismay. He
stood staring Intently at his son with
a perplexity In his expression that was
almost ludicrous. When at last he spoke
his volcfe was a rumble of strangely shy
pleasure.
"God bless my soul!" he exclaimed,
violently. Then he raised a hand and
rubbed first one cheek, and after it its
fellow' with a gentleness that was sig
nificant The feeling provoked by the
embrace showed plainly in his next
words. "Why, that’s the first time you
have kissed me. Dick, since you were
a little boy God bless my soul!” he
repeated ' And now there was a note
of publlation.
The son, somewhat disturbed by the
emotion he had aroused, nevertheless
answered frankly with the expression
of his own feeling, as he advanced and
laid a hand on his father’s shoulder
"The fact is, Dad," he said quietly,
with a smile that was good to see. "I
am awfully glad to see you again."
Kisses of Tenderness.
"Are you. son?" the father cried hap
pily. Then, abruptly his manner
changed, for he felt himself perilously
close to the maudlin In this new yield
ing to sentimentality. Such kisses of
tenderness, however agreeable In them
selves. are hardly fitting to one of his
dignity. "You clear out of here, boy,”
he commanded, brusquely. "I’m a work
ing man. But here, wait a minute,”
ie added. He brought forth from a
pocket a neat sheaf of banknotes, which
lie held out. "There’s carfare for you.”
he said with a chuckle. "And now clear
out. I’ll see you at dinner."
Dick bestowed the money in his pock
et and again turned toward the door.
"You can always get rid of me on
the same terms," he remarked slyly.
And then the young man gave evidence
that he, too. had some of his father’s
ability in things financial For in the
doorway he turned with a final speech.
I which was uttered in splendid disre
gard for the packet of money he had
just received perhaps, rather, in a
splendid regard for It “Oh. Dad, please
don’t forget to give Sadie that five dol-
! Jars I borrowed from her for the taxi."
And with that Impertinent reminder he ,
was gone.
The owner of the store returned to his
labors with a new zest, for the meeting
with his son had put him in high j
spirits Perhaps It might have been
better for Mary Turner had she come :
o him just then, while he was yet In ;
this softened mood. Bnt fate had or- I
dained that other events should re- |
store him in «his usual harder self he- 1
fore him interview The effect was.
Indeed, pr-stfntly accomplished by the
advent of Smithson into, the office. He
entered with un expression of discom
fiture on his rather vacuous counten
ance He walked almost nimbly to the
desk and spoke with evident distress, as
bis employer looked up interrogative
ly.
"McCracken has detained er—a—
lady, sir,” he said, feebly. “She has
been searched, and we have found about ,
hundred dollars’ worth of laces on '
iier."
"Well?" Gilder demanded, impatient-
y. Such affairs were too common In
the store to make necessary this intru
sion of the mutter on him. "Why did !
you come to me about it?" His staff
knew just what to do with shoplifters. 1
At once Smithson became apologetl^
while refusing to retreat.
"I’m very sorry, sir," he said, halting-
y, "but I thought it wiser, sir, to er
o bring the matter to your personal at
tention.’’
“Not Eactly a Thief.”
"Quite necessary, Smithson," Gilder
returned, with asperity. "You know my
views on the subject of property. Tell
McCracken to hfcfve the thief arrested."
Smithson cleared his throat doubtfully,
and in his stress of feeling 1 he even re
laxed n trifle fhat majestical erectness
of carriage that had made him so val
uable as a floorwalker.
“She’s not exactly a—er—a thief," he
ventured.
"You are trifling, Smithson," the
owner of the store exclaimed, in high I
exasperation. "Not a thief! And you '
caught her with a hundred dollars’
worth of laces that she hadn't bought ,
Not a theif! What in heaven's name do ‘
you call her, then?"
"A kleptomaniac,” Smithson explain- j
ed, retaining bis manner of mild insis
tence. "You see, sir. it's this way. The
lady happens to be the wife of J. W. 1
Gaskell, the banker, you know.” j
Yes, Gilder did know. The mention i
of the name was like a spell in the effect |
it wrought on the attitude of the irri
tated owner of the store. Instantly his
expression changed. While before his
features had been set grimly, while his
eyes had flashed wrathfully, there was
now only annoyance over an event
markedly unfortunate.
"How extremely awkward!” he tried; 1
md there was a very real concern in |
iiis voice. He ragarded Smithson kind- '
l.v, whereat that rather puling gentleman
once again assumed his martial bear- I
big "You were quite right in coming '
to,-me." For a moment lie was silent, |
plunged in thought. Finally he spoke j
with the decisiveness characteristic of |
him. "Of course, there’s nothing we
can do. Just put the stuff back tin the
counter, and let her go."
But Smithson had not yet wholly un
burdened himself. Instead of immediate
ly leaving the room in pursuance of
iho succinct instructions given him. he
again cleared his throat nervously, and
made known a further aggravating fac-
>r in the situation.
"She’s very angry, Mr Glider," he
announced timidly. "She—er she de
mands an—er an apology."
The owner of the store half rose from
his chair, then throw himself back with
un exclamation of disgust. He again
ejaculated the words with which he
had greeted his son’s unexpected kitjses,
now there was a vast difference in the
intonation.
"God bless my soul!" he cried. From
his expression, it was clear that a pious
aspiration was farthest from his
thought On the contrary! Again he
fell silent, considering the situation
which Smithson had presented, and, as
he reflected, his frown betrayed the
emotion natural enough under the cir
cumstances. At last, hojvever, he mas
tered his irritation to some degree, and
spoke his command briefly "Well,
Smithson, apologize to her. It can’t be
helped." Then his face lighted with a
sardonic amusement. "And, Smithson,"
he went on with a sort
playfulness, "I shall tak
sonal favor if you will tactfully advise
the lady that the goods at Altrnati and
Stern's are really even finer than ours."
When Smithson had left the office,
Gilder turned to his secretary.
"Take this," he dlreqfed, and he forth
with dictated the following letter to the
husband * of the lady who was not a
thief, as Smithson had so pains') akingly
pointed out:
“Cut that!” said Garson. The eyes of the two men locked. Cassidy struggled with all his
pride against the dominant fury this man hurled on him.
4
"J. W. Gaskell, Esq.,
"Central National Bank, New York.
"My Dear Mr. Gaskell: 1 feel that I
should be doing less than my duty as a
man if I did not let you know at once
that Mrs. Gaskell Is in urgent need of
medical attention. She came into our
store to-day, and ”
Found Her Wandering.
He paused for a moment. "No, put
it this way,” he said finally:
"We found her wandering about ohr
store to-day in a very nervous condi
tion. In her excitement, she carried
away about *$100 worth of rare laces.
Not recognizing her, our store detect
ive detained her for a short time. For
tunately for us all, Mrs. Gaskell was
able to explain who she was, and she
has just gone to her home. Hoping
for Mrs. Gaskell’s speedy recovery, and
with all good wishes, I am,
"Yours very truly.”
Yet, though he had completed the
letter, Gilder did not at once take up
another detail of his business. Instead,
he remained plunged In thought, and
now his frown was one of simple be
wilderment. A number of minutes
passed before he spoke, and then his
words revealed distinctly what had
been his train of meditation.,
"Sadie,” he. said in a voice of entire
sincerity, "I can’t understand theft. It’s
a thing absolutely beyond my compre
hension.”
On the heels of this ingenuous dec
laration, Smithson entered the office,
and that excellent gentleman appeared
even more perturbed than before."
"What on earth is the matter now?"
Gilder spluttered, suspiciously.
"It’s Mrs. Gaskell still,” Smithson re
plied In great trepidation. "She wants
you personally, Mr. Gilder, to apologize
to her. She says that the action taken
against her is an outrage, and she Is
not satisfied with the "apologies of all
the rest of us She says you must
make one, too, and that the store de
tectives must be discharged for intol
erable Insolence."
The Business Instinct.
Glider bounced up from his chair an
grily.
‘Til be damned if I’ll discharge Mc
Cracken,” he vociferated, glaring on
Smithson, who shrank visibly.
But that mild and meek man had a
certain strength of pertinacity. Be
sides. in this case, he had been having
multitudinous troubles of his own,
which could be ended only by his em
ployer’s placating of the offended klep
tomaniac.
"But about the apology, Mr. Gilder,”
he reminded, speaking very deferential
ly. yet wdth Insistence.
Business instinct triumphed over the
magnate’s irritation, and his face
cleared.
"Oh, I’ll apologize," he said with a
w’ry smile of discomfiture. "I’ll make
things even up a bit when I get an
apology from Gaskell. I shrewdly sus-
l>eot that that estimable gentleman is
going to eat humble pie, of my baking,
from his wife’s receipe. And his w'ill be
aV honest apology, which mine won’t,
not by a damned sight!" With the
words, he left the room, in his wake a
hugely relieved Smithson.
Alone in the office, Sarah neglected
her work for a few minutes to brood
over the startling contrast of events
that had just forced itself on her atten
tion. She w'as not a - girl given to the
analysis of either persons or things, but
in this instance the movement of affairs
had - come close' to her, and she w r as
compelled to some depth of feeling by
the t w'o aspects of life on w’hlch to-day
she looked. In the one ease, as she
knew it, a girl under the urge of pov
erty had stolen. That thief Jiad been
promptly arrested, finally she had been
tried, had been convicted, had been sen
tenced to three years in prison. In the
other case, a woman of wealth had
stolen. There had been no punishment.
A euphemism of kleptomania had been
was something vividly impressive about
her just now', though her pallid, prema-
urely mature face and the thin figure
i the regulation black dress and white
apron showed ordinarily only insig
nificant. "Tell me now," she repeated,
with a monotonous emphasis that some
how moved Sarah to obedience against
r will, greatly to her own surprise.
"They sent her to prison for three
yearn,” she answered, sharply.
"Three years?” The salesgirl had re
peated the words in a tone that was in
definable, yet a tone vehement in its in
credulous questioning. "Three years?”
he said again, as one refusing to be
lieve.’
"Yes,” Sarah said, impressed by the
Tirls’ earnestness; “three years.”
Sarah is Astonished.
"Good God!” There was on Irrever
ence in the exclamation that broke from
the girl’s lips. Instead, only a tense
liorror that touched to the roots of emo
tion.
Sarah regarded this display of feel
ing on the part of the young woman be
fore her with an increasing astonish
ment. It was not in her own nature to
be demonstrative, and such strong ex
pressions of emotion as this she deemed
banker of rather suspicious. She recalled, in ad-
written to her husband, _
power in the city. To her the proprie- ! dition, the fact that this was not the
tor of the store was even now' apologiz- [first time that Helen Morris had shown
ing in courteous phrases of regret.
. . . And Mary Turner had been sen
tenced to three years in prison. Sadie
■ nook her head in ^dolorous doubt, as
; .e again bent over the keys of her
typewriter. Certainly, some happenings
ii this world of ouhs did not seem quite
fair.
CHAPTER V.
The Victim of the Law.
It was on this same day that Sarah,
<>n one of her numerous trips through
the store in behalf of Gilder, was accost
ed by a salesgirl, whose name, Helen
Morris, she chanced to know. It was in
i spot somewhere out of the crowd, so
that for the moment the twm were prac-
< ill.v alone. The salesgirl showed signs
of embarrassment as she ventured to lay
n detaining hand on Sarah’s arm, but
she maintained her position, despite the
secretary’s manner of disapproval.
"What on earth do you want?” Sarah
inquired, snappishly.
The salesgirl put her question at
once.
"What did they do to .Mary Turner?”
"Oh, that!" the secretary exclaimed,
with increased impatience over the de-
ay. for she was very busy, as always.
"You will all know soon enough."
"Tell me now.” The voice of the
girl was singularly compelling; there
I a particular interest in the fate of Mary
Turner. Sarah wondered why.
"Say," she demanded, with ttie direct
ness habitual to her, "why are you so
anxious about it? This is the third time
y<>n have asked me about Mary Turner.
What’s it to you, I’d like to know?"
The salesgirl started violently, and a
deep flush drove the accustomed pallor
fro mher cheeks. She was obviously
much disturbed by the question.
"What is it to me?" she repeated in
an effort to gain time. "Why, nothing—
nothing at all!” Her expression of dis
tress lightened a little as she hit on an
excuse that might serve to justify her
interest. "Nothing at all. only—she’s a
friend of mine, a great friend of mine.
Oh, yes!” Then, in an. instant the look
of relief vanished, as once again the ter
rible reality hammered on her conscious
ness, and an overwhelming dejection
showed in the dull eyes and in the
drooping curves of the white lips. There
was a monotone of desolation as she
went on epeaking in a whisper meant
for the ears of no other. "It’s awful—
three years! Oh. I didn’t understand!
It’s awful!—awful!!” With the final
word she hurried off, her head bowed.
She w'as still murmuring brokenly, in
coherently. Her whole attitude was of
wondering grief.
Sarah started after the girl in com
plete mystification. She could not at
Crafty Tricks of Fashion Thieves
DESIGN PIRATES AND
THE WAY THEY WORK
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Alt Jacobs' Stores
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into
NY person caught sketching
or securing photographs of
fashion model# will be taken
ustody and the pictures
confiscated.” Such 1s the string
ent order issued by M. I^epine.
the Prefect of Police in Paris,
in response to the bitter com
plaints of prominent French dress
makers. who find their latest designs
being surreptitiously copied. Indeed,
this piracy of" fashions has of late
become such a scandal that dress
makers in England and Paris are
combining in their efforts to check
the practices of those dressmakers
who trade in stolen brains.
Spies From Foreign Countries.
To quote the words of one uress*
means some one has managed to ob
tain a tlrawing of the design from an
employe.”
Talking of tricks of fashion plates,
my informant went on to describe
how frequently young men and wo
men ar^ sent over from France and
Germany, presumably to learn their
business, whereas they really act as
spies and reguarly forward to their
employers on the Continent any new
designs they may be able to secure.
One of the cutest dodges was that
of a woman who one day drove tip to
a certain modiste famous for her
original creations aifd ordered a
dress. This was duly delivered and
paid for: after which the lady cabled
again and made another purchase, at
maker:
"Some of
the im
itators are so
the same
time
intimating
that
she
clever
that the>
a re
able without,
wished
to
see si
>me
•ntirel>
new
vle-
notes t
o reprodiu
e the
model to the
signs f
>r
veiling dre
sses. a
she
was
final si
eeve-butU
n. Tli
s is so well
about
o g
o abr
oad.
I m pre
s»sed
with
known
that some
or vt><
leading firms
her ma
nne
r and
appearance
uni-
in London and Pur’s never exhibl
their more exclusive models in th*
window or the showrooms. Never
theless, bv various subterfuges n
designs are sometimes stolen a
plaped on the market before they .
even shown in the windows of 1
firm \Yhfch created them. In s»i
cases we can only come to the cc
elusion that by bribery or otl
r»W
nd I
ire
n-
I her of unique designs were sent to
I her hotel. After looking at these, she
j promised to call next day w hen she
I had finally decided on the dress .she
l. She did not put in an appear-
, and this particular firm of
smnkers were chagrined to fin i
tly afterward that their unique
;ns were being copied in detail
ertain Parisian dressmakers. It
afterward transpired that the lady-
in question was a fashion thief, who
had hit upon this cute dodge to ob
tain designs.
Busy in May and June.
So jealously do dressmakers guard
their new' models that only those peo
ple with the highest credentials are
allowed in the showroom? and at the
private views. "We are particularly
on our guard," said my informant,
"against experts from America and
Germany. Many of them have a habit
of coming over here, or visiting a
house in Paris, about May or June,
and jvhatever costumes for the fol
lowing winter can be secured in ad
vance they promptly acquire, forward
them to their headquarters, have
them copied more or less badly, and
sell them as the latest London and
Parts creations. A rew design ac
quired in this way was once repro
duced by an American house, with the
J result that when a lady' went to a
! well-known dressmaker in Paris and
j was shown the fashions for the win
der she exclaimed: *0|t. no; these are
not new. I have seen these styles in
New York much cheaper.’ "
; The same complaints are.made by
{the best milliners who have to be
I constantly on the qui vive against the
unwelcome attentions of people who
are always on the lookout for unique
and novel designs. “Or cours'e,” said
one milliner to the writer, "one must
show- hats in order to sell them; and
it is easy enough for a smartly-
dressed lady artiste to mix w-ith
other women around the shop win
dow’s or in the show-rooms, make a
mental picture of the hat and a rough
sketch in the neighboring tea shop,
and come back ^afterward to com
pare the sketch with the original. And
it is thus, to our chagrin, that a hat
we are often selling for three and
four guineas is copied and sold at
shops in the suburbs at something
like half the price.”
Pirating Lace Resigns.
Even more serious is the manner in
which lace designs are pirated, for*
not only do shopkeepers suffer, but
the manufacturers find themselves
losing thousands of dollars every year
through unscrupulous tricks. The
president of the l*ace Finishers’ As
sociation at Nottingham. England, re-
I cently mentioned that English de
signs are systematically betrayed to
! foreign competitors. Inquiries showed
I that while many draughtsmen were
i above suspicion and could be relied
! on to keep designs secret, others
j ared not how- much damage they did
to English manufacturers. Foreign
manufacturers w-ere sparing neither
effort nor expense to obtain posses
sion of the Nottingham patterns as
soon as they were produced. One
draughtsman boasted that he had sold
four copies of original designs en
trusted to him to four different coun
tries. So great has the scandal be
come that the question of an inter
national agreement on* the subject Is
being seriously considered.
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Price $1.00 at Jacobs' Ten
Stores.
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PILGRIM MFG. COMPANY
37 East 28th St. New York.
first guess any possible cause for an
emotion as poignant. Presently, how
ever, her shrewd, though very prosaic,
commonsense suggested a simple ex
planation of the girl’s extraordinary
distress.
Secretary Hurried Away.
"I’ll bet that girl has been tempted
to steal. But she didn’t, because she
was afraid.” With this satisfactory
conclusion of her wonderment, the sec
retary hurried* on her way, quite con
tent. It never occurred to her that the
girl might have . een tempted to steal—
and had not resisted the temptation.
It was on account of this brief con
versation with the salesgirl that Sarah
w-as thinking intently of Mary Turner,
after her return to the office from which
Gilder himself happened to be absent
for the moment. As the secretary
• need up at the opening of the door,
she did not at first recognize the figure
outlined there. She remembered Mary
Turner as a tall, slender girt, who
showed an underlying vitality in every
movement, a girl with a face of regular
features, in which was a complexion of
blended milk and roses, with a radiant
joy of life shining through all her ardu
ous and vulvar conditions. Instead of
this, now-, she saw a frail form that
stood swaying in the opening of the
doorway, that bent in a sinister fash
ion which told of bodily impotence,
while the face was quite bloodless. And,
too, there was over all else a pail of
helplessness—helplessness that had en
dured much, and must still endure in
finitely more.
As a reinforcement of the di'ead im
port of that figure of woe. a man stood
beside it, and one of his hands was
clasped around the girl’s wrist, a man
w-ho wore his derby hat somewhat far
back on his bullet-shaped head, whose
feet were conspicuous in shoes with
very heavy soles and very square toes.
It was the man who now' took charge
of the situation. Cassidy, from head
quarters, spoke in a rough, indifferent
voice, well suited to his appearance of
stolid strength.
"The District Attorney told me to
bring this girl here on my way to the
grand Centra? Station with her."
Could Only Stand Dumb.
Sarah g*t to* her feet mechanically.
Somehow, from the raucous notes of the
policeman’s voice, she understood in a
flash of illumination that the pitiful fig
ure there in the doorway was that oi
Mary Turner, whom she had remem
bered so different, so frightfully differ
ent. She spoke with a miserable effort
toward her usual liveliness.
‘Mr. Gilder will be right back. Come
in and wait.” She wished to say some
thing more, something of welcome or of
mourning, to the girl there, but she
found herself incapable of a single word
for the moment, and could only stand
dumb while the man stepped forward
with his charge following helplessly in
lis clutch.
The two went forward very slowly, the
officer, carelessly conscious of his duty,
walking with awkward st^ps to suit the
feeble movements of the girl, the girl
letting herself be dragged onward, aware
of the futility of any resistance to the
inexorable power that now had her in
its grip, of which the man was the
present agent. As the pair came thus
falterlngly into the center of the room,
Sarah at last found her voice for an
expression of sympathy.
"I’m sorry, Mary,” she said, hesitat
ingly. "I’m terribly sorry, terribly
sorry?” /
The girl, who had halted when the of
ficer halted, as a matter of course, did
not look up. She stood still, swaying a
little as if from weakness. Her voice
was lifeless.
Was Not Successful.
“Are you?” she said. "I did nut know.
Nobody had been near me the whole
time I have been in the Tombs.” There
was infinite pathos in the tones as she
repeated the words so fraught with
deadfulness. "Nobody has been near
me!”
The secretary felt a sudden glow' of
shame. She realized the justice of that
unconscious accusation, for, till to-day,
she had had no thought of the suffer
ing girl there in the prison. To assuage
remorse, she sought to give evidence
as to a prevalent sympathy.
"Why,” she exclaimed, “there w r as
Helen Morris to-day! She has been ask
ing about you again and again. She’ll
all broken up over your trouble.”
But the effort on the secretary’s part
was wholly without success.
“Who is Helen Morris?” the lifeless
voice demanded. There was no interest
In the question.
Sarah experienced a momentary as
tonishment, for she was still remember
ing the feverish excitem rnt displayed
by the salesgirl, w'ho had declared her
self to be a most intimate friend of the
convict. But the mystery was to re
main unsolved, since Glide * now entered
the office. He walked with the quick,
bustling activity that was ordinarily
expressed in his every movement. He
paused for an instant, as he beheld the
two visitors In the center j>f the room,
then he spoke curtly to ihe secretary,
while crossing to his chair at the desk.
"You may go, Sarah. I will ring when
I wish you again.”
There followed an interval of silence,
while the secretary was having the of
fice and the girl with her warder stood
waiting on his pleasure. Gilder cleared
his throat twice in an a nbarrassment
foreign to him. before finally he spoke
to the girl. At last, the proprietor of
the store expressed himsrtf In a voice
of genuine sympathy, for the spectacle
of woe presented there b« fore his very
eyes moved him to a real distress, since
it was indeed actual, something that
did not depend on an appreciation to
be developed out of imagination,
j "My girl,” Gilder said ge itly—his hard
1 voice was softened by an honest re
gret—"my girl, I am sorry about this.”
Her Eyes Opened Widely.
"You should be!” came the instant
answer. Yet the words were uttered
with a total lack of emotion. It seemed
from their intonation tha the speaker
voiced merely a statement concerning
a recondite matter of truth, with which
sentiment had nothing to do. But the
effect on the employer wa.s unfortunate.
It aroused at once his antagonism
against the girl. His ins inct of sym
pathy with which he ha< greeted her
at the outset was repelled and made of
no avail. Worse, it wa! transformed
into an emotion hostile to the one who
thus offended him by rejection of the
well-meant kindliness of his address.
“Come, come!” he exclrimed, testily.
"That’6 no tone to take w th me.”
"Why? What sort of tone do you
expect me to take?” was the retort in
the listless voice. Yet now in the dull- ’
ness ran a faint suggestion of some
thing sinister.
"I expected a decent amount of hu
mility from one in your position.” was
the tart rejoinder of the magnate.
Life quickened swiftly ii the drooping
form of the girl. Her m iscles tensed.
She stood suddenly erect, in the vigor of
her youth again Her face lost in the
same second its bleakness of pallor. TL
eyes opened widely, with startling ab
ruptness, and looked straight into those
of the man who had emp oyed her.
"Would you be humble," she de
manded, and now her vole > was become
softly musical, yet forbidding, too, with
a note of passion, "would you be hum
ble if you were going to prison for three
years—for something you didn’t do?”
There was anguish in the cry torn
from the girl’s throat ir the sudden
access of despair. Tfte words thrilled
Gilder beyond anything that he had
supposed possible in such case. He
found himself in this erne gency totally
at a loss, and moved in hi. 1 chair doubt
fully, wishing to say something, and
quite unable. He wa.s still seeking some
question, some criticism, some rebuke,
when he was unfeignedly relieved to
hear the policeman’s harsh voice:
"Don’t mind her, sir,” *.assidy said.
He* meant to make his manner very
reassuring. "They all sa: that. They
are innocent, of course! Yep—they all
say it. It don’t do ’em any good, but
just the same they all swear they’re in
nocent. They keep it up to the very
last, no matter how right they've been
got.”
The voice of the girl ran ? clear. There
was* a note of inconsistenc j that carried
a curious dignity of its ovn. The very
simplicity of her statement might have
had a power to convince .one w ho lis
tened without prejudice, although the
words themselves were of the trite sort
that any protesting criminal might ut
ter.
"I tell you, I didn’t do it!”
Gilder himself felt the surge of emo-
ion that swung through these moments,
but he would not yield t. With his
lack of imagination, he could not In
terpret what this time n ust mean to
the girl before him. Rath w, he merely
deemed it his duty to < irry through
this unfortunate affair with a scrupu
lous attention to detail, i t the fashion
that had always been ch? racteristlc of
him during the years in which he had
steadily mounted from the bottom to
the top.
To Be Ccntinued Tc-morrow.
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