The frontier. (O'Neill City, Holt County, Neb.) 1880-1965, August 26, 1915, Image 2

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MARY MIDTHORNE
BY
GEORGE BARR McCUTCHEON.
Author of “Graustark," "Truxton King,” otc.
Copyright, 1911, By Do<1d. Maad A Co.
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CHAPTER XVI.—(Continued.)
“Horace may forgive Eric, but he’ll
-never forgive ine,” said Adam slowly,
calculating. “There's only one guilty
person In this case, and that Is me.
Let’s be perfectly frank about It. I am
•the one who has made Horace suffer,
not you, Eric. Can’t you see what he
will do to me? He will take It all out of
me. He will ruin me, destroy me. I
won’t say he can put me behind the
bars, but he can make me the most de
spised creature In America.”
“You should have thought of all this
before,’’ said Mary sharply.
"I have,” quoth Adam, with a frown.
If he meant to say more, ho was
checked by a sharp, eager exclamation
from Erie.
"By George! Listen to me!” His face
was bright with a new resolve. He
leaned forward eagerly, his voice drop
ping to a tense. Insistent half whisper.
*T know how I can protect you, Mr.
Adam. It’s as simple as A B C. You
have stood by me; I’d be a dog to drag
jrou down with me. Here's what I can
nnd will do. I will not mention your
name In connection with the affair. I
will not call on you a** a witness. I'll
leave you out of It altogether, and take
the whole blame on myBelf. That will
let you off clean as a whistle. There’s
-no reason why you should be punished
■ for—”
“Hold on. Eric,” cried Adam, rising
■ slowly from the chair to look the Im
passioned young man squarely In the
■ sye. With nn effort of the will; ho
managed to conceal the feeling of pride,
of Joy that Eric’s words produced.
“There are several obstacles to that
- sort of a plan. First, leaving me out of
It how are you going to acount for the
Aiaposal of the body?”
A slight shudder ran over Eric's
frame.
“Oh, I can say that I weighed It with
Iron and rowed out—”
"You haven’t told a lie In connection
with the affair up to date, have you?”
tsked Adam levelly.
I’Why, no—I haven't even mentioned
“Don’t you think It’s rather poor
policy to begin now?”
•'Well, it’s the only way I can think
«f to keep your name out of It.’'
Adam had been thinking hard all
this time. His active, resourceful brain
had been groping for the means with
which to sucessfully combat this rather
primitive, quixotic sense of honesty
'that afflicted Eric, To gain time: that
-was Adam’s sole purpose. The real ob
ject of his visit to the little Verner cot
tage was forgotten In the face of this
•mazing revolt. Strategy—ay, more
than that would be required In the
hand"- of the conscience stricken
man; harsh, unfeeling measures would
be necessary. Nor was he thinking only
of his own safety, although, somehow,
■ It was becoming paramount. He loved
Eric, In a strange, bear like fashion;
peculiarly his own. He was a far
■ sighted man; he foresaw dark trials for
the boy If his present purpose was car
ded out It was quite Impossible for
him to realize that he, too. had been
short sighted. He had played a deep,
ugly game without counting on the
certainty of this very hour. Time to
curse his stupidity and to reckon the
cost, not only to Eric but to himself.
MRl»l Simnnaa T s-1/"t*%*A A —. V. .V
left out of it, what then?” he demanded
In a hard voice.
"X don’t have to implicate you,” went
on Eric earnestly. “You can appear to
be much surprised as anyone when the
truth comes out.”
’’Just go on being a detective,
•eh?" retorted Adam with grim humour.
"Chasing a dead man for six years, eh?
Do you think I have no pride? ’Pon my
word. I’d rather be called a scoundrel
rthan a fool.”
Eric began to argue his point, but the
older man cut him off short with the
curt reminder that he was old enough
to look out for himself.
“See here. Eric,” he continued, ignor
ing the hurt look in his young friend's
eyes. "we’U get right down to cases. If
you go to Horace Blngden with your
tale, I shall have to tell the world what
1 know of the affair. Do you realize
what that may mean?”
"You saw the fight,” cried Eric. "You
•can prove that It was self defense—no,
•an accident.”
”1 can do nothing of the kind,” said
Adam coldly. He had thought of a way.
"What do you mean?” stammered the
-other.
“Just this. I did not see the fight. I
ea» one blow struck. I do not know
what went before. I have only your
word for that. Not competent testimony
<*ny boy.”
Eric’s face was a puzzle.
“I—I don’t see what you are driving
•at. Ur. Adam. Surely you don’t—” He
•topped short, his lips twisting into a
<«ickly smile.
“Don’t what?”
“You don’t mean that you doubt my
•word ?’’
Adam Carr shook his head. 'Tve al
ways said it was an accident, haven’t
“Certainly. Then what do you mean?”
“Do you suppose that any court,
knowing my Interest in the case, will
•accept my statement that I believed it
to be an accident?”
“Why not?”
“Simply because what I believe and
that actually occurred are in no way
rmnected by fact. You did strike him.
did not see him strike at you. So far
Is I can testify, you struck the only
IlOW.”
“Good heaven!”
“Just think It over, Eric,” said Carr
%>olly. “Don’t put your neck In a noose
fi the hope that I can get It out for
»ou. He was a big, powerful chap. It
doesn’t seem likely that—’’
“Why—why, curse you, do you mean
to Bay that 1 struck him without warn
ing?”
Eric was towering over the square,
heavy figure, his face cor.! ulsed by
rage. His arm was drawn back as if
to strike. The older man did not flinch.
You seem to forget ehat I taught
you a blow that would be likely to
•catch any man off his guard. It
is a blow that never fails to do the
work. That was the only blow I saw
pass between you and him. As I said
before: Just think it over.”
He picked up his hat and strode
toward the door. Eric sprang after
him, rage giving way before appre
hension and dismay.
“Are you turning against me?” he
cried. “Wait! Where are you going?"
"I am going to my.room in the hotel.
Day after tomorrow we may hear of
Chetwynd’s death in South America. I
am expecting a message to that effect.
Believe me, I hope to receive the news
before you go to your uncle with this
•ale of yours. It would hurt me more
Shan I can tell, to be called to the
witness stand against you, Eric. I am
Vlad that I came here today. A good
dairy must have sent me. I came for
27
an entirely different mission, but—upon
my soul, I’ve quite forgotten what It
was. Goodbye.”
He did not offer to shake hands with
the amazed, panic stricken young man,
but walked calmly out of the door and
Into the street, an ominous figure that
filled their eyes until It was lost be
hind the hedges—and even longer, for
they had him In mind for many min
utes.
They had followed him to the door.
Mary clung to her brother’s rigid arm,
staring down the gray, wind-swept
street, a great and growing dread In
her lovelv eves.
“What are you going to do, Eric?”
she asked dully.
He started, and turned to look down
Into her eyes, as If suddenly aware of
her nearness to him.
“Do?” he asked blankly. “Wdiy, he’s
gone. He’s In Baxter street by this
time.”
"I wasn’t thinking of him,” she said,
a shrill note beginning to make Itself
felt In her voice. “I mean about go
ing to Uncle Horace.”
“I can’t believe that Adam has turned
against me,” went on Eric, as It stupe
fied. “But there was something ugly
In what ho said, wasn’t there? It—It
was like a threat. God! It was a
threat!”
Bhe shivered. "Is this all real, Eric?
Am I having another of those terri
ble dreams? I am bo cold. See! My
hands are like Ice. I—I—”
He clasped her In his arms. “God
forgive me, little sister! I’ve blighted
your whole life. Why—oh, why did I
tell you this beastly thing? Mr. Adam
was right. He did his best to stop me.
I'm a beast, a—”
“Don’t. Errle—don’t! Oh, brother,
brother! My big, good brother!”
He drew her back Into the room, still
holding her In his arms. For a long
time they stood motionless and silent
In the middle of the little parlor, dry
eyed, dry-lipped and unseeing. She
shivered again.
“Close the door, Errle,” she mur
mured. “It's queer how cold the air
has grown. It’s off the sea. When did
the wind change?”
“I’ll stir up the fire In the grate,” he
said, with nervous haste. “It’s the
dampness.” He closed the door.
She watched him poke up the em
bers and pile on the chunks of wood.
“I hadn’t noticed the change,” he
said mechanically. “It Is off the sea.”
“Where do you suppose he has gone?”
she asked, drawing near to the grate.
He did not look up. She noted the
grayish, bloodless look of his neck
and half averted cheek.
“We were standing at the corner
above the Massasolt house when Uncle
Horace somehow felt his presence. That
was not more than 10 minutes before
I— What are you asking, Mary? Ex
cuse me.”
“Where has he gone?” she repeated
“See here, Mary, I’m In for something
nasty," he exclaimed, coming to his
feet and running his hands Into his
pockets once more. “I don’t know
what to do. If I go to Uncle Horace
now, Adam Carr will turn squarely
against me. That’s plain. Somehow, I
can't find it in my heart to blame him,
either. I suppose I ought to consider
his position as well as my own. On the
other hand, I can’t go on this way any
longer. It’s unbearable. I can’t even
look at Uncle Horace and Aunt Rena
without cursing myself for a beast
Adam Carr has never let up on them—
not for an Instant. He’s been a devil,
so far as they are concerned. I should
have stopped It long ago.”
He threw himself Into a chair and
stared, wide eyed, at the crackling,
snnpplng logs. Mary stood at his el
bow, looking down upon him, her eyes
full of love and pity. Presently she
laid a hand on his shoulder.
“I don’t believo Uncle Horace can
forgive you, Eric.” she said.
“He can’t forgive me for letting It
go on In the way It has,” he groaned.
“Why, It’s been hell on earth for them,
Mary.’ ’
"I pity them now,” she said simply.
"I never can love them—never! But I
do pity them. If there Is anything I
can do, Errle dear, to make life easier,
happier for them, I shall try my best
to-r’
He did not look up, but as she hes
itated he said quickly:
“They don't want you to marry Jack
Payson.”
"Oh. Errle, can’t they overcome—”
“There’s a great and sufficient rea
son for their opposition, dear. Some
thing you don’t understand, but I do.
Adam Carr’s greatest triumph over
Uncle Horace would come the day you
married Jack Payson.”
"I don’t understand,” she cried, be
wildered.
He checkod the impulse to blurt out
the horrid truth, as he took It to be
concerning John Payson. She loved the
fellow. Why strike at a heart that was
already sore and bleeding? Why add
another cruel slash tp the wounds that
perhaps were marking It for life? And
then, up from some dark, secret recess
of his own heart, came an astonishing
throb of pity for John Payson; a curi
ous revolt within himself. After all,
what wrong had John Payson done?
Why strike an innocent, unsuspecting
man In the back? Why Inflict a wound
that could never be closed?
“It’s something that dates back to
the time when Payson’s father was
alive,” equivocated he.
“He was lost at sea. Were they ene
mies?”
“I only know that Uncle Horace
hated Jack Payson’s father."
“Then why did he put Jack In the
bank?”
“Well, he got him out of It soon
enough, didn’t he?” demanded her
brother, hard put for explanations.
She waited a moment. “There Is
something you are holding back, Eric,”
she said, closing here eyes. “How would
you feel, dear, If I were to hint that
Joan Bright isn’t what she ought to
be?”
"Joan!” he cried out. a new despair
rising In his voice. He covered his eyes
with his hand. “What will she thtnk
when she hears what I have come to?”
"If she loves you, she will not
let anything come between,” said
Mary, slowly, significantly. The
true appeal In her words was
lost on him. He walked over
to the window' and stood there, star
ing blankly out into the little garden.
For a long time she kept her eyes on
his straight, tense figure. Then she
moved up closer to the Are, resting a
hand on the mantelpiece as she looked
down Into the writhing flames. Final
ly her shoulders relaxed and drooped,
and her whipped gaze went once more
to the back of him who was so rocked
and harassed.
She crossed slowly to his side.
"Eric,” she said, her voice very low
and unwavering. "1 will give Jack up
If It will make you happy. I—I shan't
see him again.”
"flood heaven, Mary you—you would
do that?” he cried hoarsely. "Why,
little sister, you—you! No, by heaven,
you do not make me happy. You make
me feel so small, so puny, so ashamed
of—”
"Don’t Eric, I beg of you!" She
spoke rapidly, jerkily. "I mean It. I
will try to make them a little bit hap
pier than they are. I will do this for
—-’’ She stopped In the middle of the
sentence, the soft, warm glow in her
eyes fading like a flash. In Its stead
came an almost venomous glitter, com
pletely transforming her lovely face.
"But, wait! What am I saying? Why
should I do this for them? They may
try to hang you, Eric.”
He took a long, deep breath. "I
can’t stay in the house any longer,
Mary. I’ve got to get out where I can
breathe.” He started toward the door,
catching up his hat as he passed by
the table.
"Where are you going?” she cried.
"I don’t know—oh, anywhere. Lis
ten! Can you hear the breakers? A
mile and a half to Stone Wall. There’s
a big sea running. Mary, I haven’t
been on Stone Wall In six years. I’m
going out there now. I’m going to face
the thing I’ve dreaded all these years.
He s out there somewhere. He hasn’t
moved. It’s horrible to think of. But,
m going to smash this contemptible
rear, once and for all. I’ll be back by
dinner time. Out there I can think it
over, as Adam says. Don’t worry, dear,
I will not—”
"I am going with you, Erie,” she
said quietly.
i ,^® cried, but she was rush
■n* OK for her hat and mackintosh.
Half an hour later they crossed the
bleak, wind-blown stretch of meadow
land and came out upon the rocks.
They had not spoken in all this time.
The stiff gale that blew in from the
Atlantic drove the words back into
their throats. A fine drizzle smote
them In the face. They had not no
ticed that it was misting when they
left the cottage.
“This way,” ho managed to say when
they came to the forlorn coast road
which wound through the rocks. "We’ll
cross the bridge. If you care to look,
Vou may see where he fell. The clump
of vines, too.”
She kept pace with him, uttering no
word.
They stopped In the middle of the
bridge, leaning side by side on the
stout, new rail to look down into the
ravine. He pointed to the jagged
rocks and then to the mass of vines
behind which Chetwynd’s body had
been secreted on that memorable day.
Then they passed on, skirting Bud’s
Rock, and bent their bodies against
the gale that shrieked across the rocky
waste. It was a chll, raw wind that
beat in their faces and cut through
the clothes they wore, an insistent
wind that seemed bent on keeping
them back from the brow of the cliffs.
At last they stood at the edge of the
sreat Stone Wall, with the ocean snarl
ing madly at the crags, 200 feet below.
Never had they seen the sea so wild,
jo furious, so ugly. It came in. black
md devilish, with none of the rol
licking blues and greens that they
were so used to seeing; nothing but
great black things with hoary crests
xnd foaming maws, crashing against
the huge rocks that stood guard in
front of the palisade, Bwirllng in be
tween and bounding back again as if
jurprlsed to find resistance so strong.
A drab sky seemed to flatten itself
like the low top of a circus tent over
the whole world, sloughing off into a
thick, impenetrable bank of fog which
brougnt the bleak horizon ciosd to
hand, and out of which slipped shad
owy billows that took vivid shape as
they raced into the arena. On they
came with ever-increasing size and
velocity, only to shatter themselves
against the mammoth barrier that had
Sefled them for ages and ages. They
struck with splintering force, roaring
like a thousand cannons, swishing with
the mighty hiss of a hundred catar
acts, and then ground their way back
for another and mightier assault.
The puny spectators at the top of
the cliff braced themselves against
Lhe wind and Btared out over the ma
lestic foe of all mankind. Mary pointed
to a vast cleft in the wall far to the
eft; the fury there was greater than
anywhere else, the struggle more sub
lime.
“It’s like a Paul Daugherty palnt
ng. Eric. How terrible it Is today!”
she cried in his ear.
He was looking far out across the
sounding waves, his eyes set on a
certain spot in the shifting scape.
"The sea was like a mill-pond that
light, Mary. How different now. It
jeems as though it is working up all
this rage for my especial benefit. It’s
a grewsome thought, but do you know
[ have a feeling that—that our cousin
s doing all this. He’s trying to burst
the sides of that staunch old chest,
lust as the genii of old tried to split
the jar that the fisherman found and
ipened. See! Follow my finger, Mary.
3ut there beyond Lord's Point, eight
miles or more, where it’s S00 fathoms
leep,—that’s where Chetwynd lies. No
jea Is strong enough to move that
coffin of his. It’s buried too deep. All
the grave robbers in the world could
lot snatch Chetwynd from the grave
le’s in. No! He’s there forever and
;ver. Isn’t it horrible!”
(Continued next week.)
International Anarchy.
From the Saturday Evening Post.
Last July there was a thing called ln
ernatlonal Jaw. True, at many points It
ivas not exactly definable; but. In spite of
.'ague and debatable boundaries here and
:here, a very solid and definite body re
nalned which was presumed to be blnd
ng on all civilized nations. And on that
incombatants and neutrals were as
much entitled to rely as a man walking
lown the street of his home town Is en
lltled to rely on the rule that his property
shall not be taken from him except by
iue process of law.
To assume that any belligerent can
change the code of accepted International
aw to suit Its own exigencies Is simply to
throw the ewhole code Into the waste
nasket and accept International anarchy.
It is to put a neutral in the unhappy po
sition of a traveler In Mexico, where the
first man ho meets with a gun in his
hand can declare whatever law he
pleases and execute It on the spot.
To say, for example, that International
aw cannot apply to submarines because
they were developed. In their present effi
ciency, since the law was framed, Is as
cogent as to urge that a belligerent would
ne entitled to blow up a neutral's powder
factory If It could do so with the new
agency of an areoplane. If a nation Is ab
lolved from International law because it
Is “fighting for Its life,” theen any at
tempt to set up International law Is only
a. silly futility; for every nation that
fights at all is always "fighting for its
life.”
Neutral nations can no more afford to
hand the world over to belligerents to set
up whatever rules their various exigencies
may dictate than peaceful members of a
community can afford to give a free hand
to the truculent ones. Neutral nations are
entitled to say to belligerents: “Shoot one
mother If you Insist on It; but you must
not shoot away our guaranteed rights."
A century ago there was no German
empire—only u number of German
states whose aggregate wealth and in
come were rrobably less than those of
France. Now united Germany Is estl
mated«jto possess an Income of nearly
*10,000.000,000 and accumulated wealth
of about *80,000,000.o00. During the cen
tury Germany’s population has grown
from 24.000,000 to mots than 67,000,000, or
1*0 per cent.
i
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SKY MARAUDER IN AIRSHAFT
Birds Cling Fearfully to Fire Escape
While Sparrow Hawk Hovers
Near.
A servant maid in an apartment on
the fourth floor of the Victoria, at
Riverside drive and Ninety-seventh
street, opened the kitchen window
Monday morning and wondered why
dozens of sparrows that were hud
dling on fire escape and window sill
did not take fright and scurry away.
Then she glanced outward and up
ward into the airshaft and discovered
the reason.
A sparrow hawk, sun glinting on its
wings, was wheeling rapidly high up
in the airshaft, but below the roof
level. Occasionally, when the marau
der’s keen eye glimpsed a sparrow
which hadn’t taken refuge it darted
like a flash. Twice while the maid
watched the hawk made a capture and
soared out of the airshaft.
The air pirate worked for about two
hours and disappeared shortly before
noon, but it was at least half an hour
later when the plump, brown spar
rows recovered from the terror caused
by the hawk’s appearance.
SELF SHAMPOOING
With Cutlcura Soap Is Most Comfort
ing and Beneficial. Trial Free.
Especially if preceded by touches
)t Cutlcura Ointment to spots of dan
druff and Itching on the scalp skin.
These supercreamy emollients meet
every skin want as well as every
toilet and nursery want in caring for
the skin, scalp, hair and hands.
Sample each free by mail with Book.
Address postcard, Cutlcura, Dept. XY,
Boston. Sold everywhere.—Adv.
It is said that woman, owing to her
peculiar physical construction, is un
able to jump—except at an offer of
marriage.
Electricity was first used in a mine
In 1879, when a Scotch colliery was
lighted with it
Leaders of fashion always follow it
Two Boys, a Cow and Two Calves.
This is a short story of how two
Vermont boys, still in their teens,
have made some real money on a thor
oughbred Guernsey. They paid $200
for the animal when she was two
years old, and as their fatlrar was a
banker and they were away to school
a farmer was induced to keep the ani
mal for them. They owned the cow
a little over two years and during that
time she had two calves. The boys
found a ready market for the calves
and have just sold the cow, the three
animals having been sold for $525.
The farmer charged them $125 for
keeping of the stock and other ex
penses and the boys will net $100
apiece from the transaction. The boys
are quite satisfied with their invest
ment and incidentally have become
somewhat interested in life upon a
Vermont farm.—Springfield (Vt.) Re
porter.
Roumania has a powerful army, well
equipped and trained. The approxi
mate war strength is 650,000.
The man who is good at making ex
cuses is seldom able to make good at
anything else.
A New York inventor has patented
a child's muff formed like a doll.
The man who marries a widow does
not make a miss-take.
Italy consumes less tobacco per cap
ita than any other civilized nation.
But talk isn't cheap when you hire
a lawyer to do it for you.
A woman with small feet may be
vain, but she walks on her pride.
The Terrible Turk.
There are no old maids in Turkey.
No wonder, then, that country has so
many unhappy men.—Detroit Times.
The Limit.
“What a pessimist he is."
“Yes, Indeed. Even misery shuns
his company.”
Electricity is being successfully used
Id France to ripen cheese
-,-v
Prize Definition of Money.
What is regarded as one of th»
best definitions of money was given
by Henry E. Beggs of Sheffield, Eng
land, who was awarded a prize offered
by a British weekly for the following
philosophical wisdom:
“An article which may be used as n
universal passport to everywhere ex
cept heaven and as a universal pro
vider of everything except happiness.’*
No Bookworm.
“What works on political economy
have you read?”
“None,” replied Senator Sorghum.
“Political economy is a science that
tells you how a government ought to
be run, but it doesn’t tell you how to
get the votes that will enable you to
run it.”
“Two-Way” Masons.
Members of the Chicago Craftsmen
chapter of Operative Masons are Ma
sons in two senses of the word. They
are bricklayers and stone masons and
are members of the Masonic order.
About one-eleventh of the area of
Africa, some 1,000,000 square miles,
still awaits exploiation.
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