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- a 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 u “If I Had Hair Like hers—.” No need to finish the sentence. Probably you have often exprer'od it. But dor'i you know’ that you CAN ha e beautiful hair? Robinnaire Hair Dye is not a preparation to bleach or ocarrge tlie color of the hair. It is a restorative. Restores colorless, lifeless, faded gray hair to its own original color and beautiful. healthy condition. Makes it soft and lustrous. Non stick' and does not slain skin A kly 1T. The hair responds to proper care and treat - Prepared for light, medium and dark brown an<j black hair. Trial size 25c. postpaid 31c: large ‘•iz, ?5r. postpaid 83c. Pune and harmless FOR SALE BY Alt Jacobs' Stores And Druggists Generally. 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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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. — ■ —