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SYNOPSIS.
Miss Patricia Holbrook and Miss H'-Ivn
Holbrook, her niece, wore entrusted to
the care of Laurence Donovan, a writer,
summering near Port Anrandale. Miss
Patricia confided to Donovan that she
feared her brother Henry, who. ruined by
a hank failure, had constantly threatened
her for money from his father's will, of
which Miss Patricia was guardian. They
carbe to Port Annandate to escape Henry.
Donovan sympathised with the two
women. He learned of Misa Helen's an
noying suitor. Donovan discovered and
captured an intruder, who proved to be
Kpglnatd Gillespie, suitor for the hand of
Miss Helen Holbrook. Gillespie disap
peared the following morning. A rough
sailor appeared and was ordered away.
CHAPTER IV.—Continued.
The place was clearly the summer
home of a city man in search of quiet,
and I was turning away, when sud
denly a woman's voice rang out clear
ly frvrn the bank.
"Hallo, the houseboat!”
"Yes; I’m here!” answered the man
below.
'Come on, father; I've been looking
for you everywhere,” called the voice
again.
“Oh. It's too bad you’ve been wait
| ing," he answered.
! ‘‘Of course I've been waiting!” she
| flung back, and he jumped up and ran
! toward her. Then down the steps
; flashed Helen Holbrook in white. She
■ paused at. the gate an instant before
] continuing her descent to the creek,
| bending her head as she sought the
remaining steps.
"Daddy, you dear old fraud, I
thought you were coining to meet me
on the ridge!”
I turned and groped my way along
the darkening path. My heart was
thumping wildly and my forehead was
wet with perspiration.
Ijima stood on the bank lighting his
lantern, and I flung myself into the
launch and hade him run for home.
We were soon crossing the lake. I
lay back on the cushions and gazed
up at the bright roof of stars. Before
1 reached Glenarm the shock of find
ing Helen Holbrook in friendly com
munication with her father had
passed, and I sat down to dinner at
cine o'clock with a sound appetite.
CHAPTER V.
A Fight on a Houseboat.
At ten o'clock I called for a horse
and rode out into the night, turning
I into the country with the intention
| of following the lake road to the re
! gion I had explored in the launch a
; few hours before. All was dark at
St Agatha's as I passed. No doubt
Helen Holbrook had returned in due
course from her visit to her fathej
md, after accounting plausibly to
aunt for her absence, was sleeping the
deep of the just. Now that I thought
of the matter in all its hearings, I ac
cused myself for not having gone
directly to St. Agatha's from the lone
ly house on Tippecanoe creek and
waited for her there, demanding an
explanation of her perfidy. She was
reating Miss Pat infamously; that
was plain; and yet in my heart I was
xcusing and defending her. A fam
ily row about money was ugly at
best; and an unfortunate—even
riminal—father may still have some
daim on his child.
Then, as against such reasoning,
he vision of Miss Pat rose before me
—and I felt whatever chivalry there
is in me arouse with a rattle of
ipears. Paul Stoddard, in committing
hat dear old gentlewoman to my care,
:ad not asked me to fall in love with
her niece; so, impatient to be thus
wayed between two inclinations, I
chirrnped to the horse and galloped
swiftly over the silent white road.
The whole region was very lonely,
and now that the heat of hoofs no lon
ier rang in my ears the quiet was op
pressive. I struck through the wood
and found the creek, and the path be
side it. The little stream was still
murmuring its own name musically,
with perhaps a softer note in defer
ence to the night; and following the
path carefully I came in a few min
utes to the steps that linked the cot
age with the houseboat at the creek's
edge. It was just there that I had
seen Helen Holbrook, and I stood
quite still recalling this, and making
sure that she had come down those
steps in that quiet out-of-the-way cor
ner of the world, to keep tryst with
her father. The story-and-a-half cot
tage was covered with vines and
cIose-wra*>ped in shrubbery. A semi
circle of taller pines within shut the
cottage off completely from the high
way. I crawled through the cedars
and walked along slowly to the gate,
near which a post supported a sign
board. I struck a match and read:
This, then, was the home of the
canoe-maker mentioned by Ijima. I
found his name repeated on the rural
delivery mail box affixed to the sign
post. Henry Holbrook was probably a
boarder at the house—it required no
great deductive powers to fathom
that. I stole back through the hedge
and down to the houseboat. Several
canoes, carefully covered with tar
paulins. lay about the deck, and chairs
were drawn up close to the long, low
bouse in shipshape fashion. If this
houseboat was the canoe-maker’s shop
he had chosen a secluded and pictur
esque spot lor It.
As I leaned against the rail stt ly
ing the lines of the house, I heard sud
denly the creak of an oarlock in the
stream behind, and then low voices
talking. I drew back against the
house and waited. Possibly the ca
noe-maker had been abroad, or, more
likely, Henry Holbrook had gone forth
upon some michief, and my mind flew
at once to the two women at St. Aga
tha's, one of whom at least was stil^
under my protection. The boat ap
proached furtively, and I heard now
y
(
It Flashed Over Me That He Was the Dark Sailor I Had Ordered from
Glenarm.
very distinctly words spoken in
Italian:
“Have a care; climb up with the
rope and I'll follow.”
Then the boat touched the platform
lightly and a second later a man
climbed nimbly up the side. His com
panion followed, and they tied their
boat to the railing. They paused now
to reconnoiter—so close to me that I
could have touched them with my
hands—and engaged in a colloquy.
The taller man gave directions, the
other replying in monosyllables td
show that he understood.
“Go to the side porch of the cottage,
and knock. When the man comes to
the door tell him that you are the
chauffeur from an automobile that has
broken down in the road, and that
you want help for a woman who lias
been hurt.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Then—you know the rest.”
"The knife—it shall be done.”
1 have made it the rule of my life,
against much painful experience and
the admonitions of many philosophers,
to act first and reason afterwards.
And here it was a case of two to one.
The men began stealing across the
deck toward the steps that led up to
the cottage, and with rather more
zeal than judgment I took a step after
them, and clumsily kicked over a
chair that fell clattering wildly. Both
men leaped toward the rail at the
sound, and I flattened myself against
the house to await developments. The
silence was again complete.
“A chair blew over,” remarked one
of the voices.
“There is no wind,” replied the oth
er, the one I recognized as belonging
to the leader.
“See what you can find—and have
a care!”
The speaker went to the rail and
began fumbling with the rope. The
other, I realised, was slipping quite
noiselessly along the smooth planking
toward me, his bent body faintly sil
houetted in the moonlight. I knew
that I could hardly be distinguishable
from the long line of the house, and I
had the additional advantage of know
ing their strength, while I was still an
unknown quantity to them. The men
would assume that I was either Hart
ridge, the boatmaker, or Henry Hol
brook, one of whom they had come
to kill, and there is, as every one
knows, little honor in being the victim
of mistaken identity. I heard the
man’s hand scratching along the wall
as he advanced cautiously; there was
no doubt but that he would discover
me in another moment; so I resolved
to take the initiative and give battle.
My finger-tips touched the back of
one of the folded camp chairs that
rested against the house, and I slow
ly clasped it. I saw the leader still
standing by the rail, the rope in his
hand. His accomplice was so close
that I could hear his quick breathing,
and something in his dimly outlined
crouching figure was familiar. Then
it flashed over me that he was the
dark sailor I had ordered from Glen
arm that afternoon.
He was now within arm’s length of
me and 1 jumped out, swung the chair
high and brought it down with a crash
on his head. The force of the blow
carried me forward and jerked the
chair out of my grasp; and down we
went with a mighty thump. I felt the
Italian's body slip and twist lithely
under me as I tried to clasp his arms.
He struggled fiercely to free himself,
and I felt the point of a knife prick
my left wrist sharply as I sought to
hold his right arm to the deck. His
muscles were like iron, and I had no
wish to let him clasp me in his short
thick arms; nor did the idea of being
struck with a knife cheer me greatly
in that first moment of the fight.
My main business was to keep free
of the knife. He was slowly lifting
me on his knees, while.I gripped his
arm with both hands. The other man
.had dropped into the boat and was
watching us across the rail.
"Make liaste, Giuseppe!" lie called j
impatiently, and 1 laughed a little, \
either at his confidence in the out
come or at his care for his own se
curity; and my courage rose to find
that [ had only one to reckon with. I
suddenly slipped my left hand down to
where my right gripped his wrist and
wrenched it sharply. His fingers re
laxed, and when I repeated the twist
the knife rattled on the deck.
I broke away and leaped for the
rail with some idea of jumping into
the creek and swimming for it; and
then the man in the boat let go twice
with a revolver, the echoing explo
sions roaring over the still creek with
the sound of saiuling battle-ships.
"Hold on to that/ man—hold him!"
he shouted from below, 1 heard the
Italian scraping about on the deck for
his knife as I dodged round the house.
I was satisfied to let things stand as
they were, and leave Henry Holbrook
and the canoe-maker to defend their
own lives and property. Then, when
I was about midway of the steps, a
man plunged down from the garden
and had me by the collar and on my
back before I knew what had hap
pened.
There was an instant's silence in
which 1 heard angry voices from the
houseboat My new assailant lis
tened, too, and I felt his grasp on me
tighten, though I was well winded and
tarne enough.
I heard the boat strike the platform
sharply as the second man jumped
into it; then for an instant silence
again held the valley.
My captor seemed to dismiss the
retreating boat, and poking a pistol
into my ribs gave me his attention.
“Climb up these steps, and do as
I tell you. If you run, I will shoot
you like a dog."
"There's a mistake—” I began,
chokingly, fqr the Italian had almost
strangled me and my lungs were as
empty as a spent bellpws.
“That will do. Climb!” He stuck
the revolver into my back and up I
went and through the garden toward
the cottage. A door opening on the
veranda was slightly ajar, and I was
thrust forward none too gently into a
lighted room.
My captor and I studied each other
attentively for half a minute. He was
beyond question the man whom Helen
Holbrook had sought at the house
boat in the summer dusk. Who Hart
ridge was did not matter; it was evi
dent that Holbrook was quite at home
in the canoe-maker's house, and that
he had no intention of calling any one
else into our affairs. He had undoubt
edly heard the revolver shots below
and rushed from the cottage to inves
tigate; and. meeting me in full flight,
lie had naturally taken it for granted
that I was involved in some designs on
himself. As he leaned against a
table by the door his grave blue eyes
scrutinized me with mingled indigna
tion and interest.
I seemed to puzzle him, and his gaze
swept me from head to foot several
times before he spoke. Then his eyes
flashed angrily and he took a step to
ward me.
"Who in the devil are you and what
do you want?”
“Mv name is Donovan, and I don't
want anything except to get home."
"Where do you come from at this
hour of the night?"
"I am spending the summer at Mr.
Glenarm's place, near Aniiandale.”
“That's rather unlikely; Mr. Gien
arm is abroad. What were you doing
down there on the creek?"
"I wasn't doing anything until two
men tame along to kill you and I
mixed up with them and got badly
mussed for my trouble.”
He eyed me with a new interest.
“They came to kill me, did they?
You tell a good story. Mr. Donovan.”
“Quite so. I was standing on the
deck of the houseboat, or whatever it
is—”
"Where you had no business to
be—” t,
“Granted. ! had no business to be
there: but I was there and came near
getting killed for my impertinence, as
1 have told you. Those fellows rowed
up from the direction of the lake. One
of them told the other to call you to
your door ou the pretense of summon
ing aid for a broken motor car off
there in the road. Then he was to
stab you. The assassin was an Ital
ian. His employer spoke to him in
that tongue. I happen to -be ac
quainted with it.”
“You are a very accomplished per
son," he observed, dryly.
He walked up to me and felt my
pockets.
“Who fired that pistol?”
"The man in charge of the expedi
tion. The Italian was trying to knife
me on the deck, and 1 broke away
from him and ran. His employer had
gone back to the boat for safety and
lie took a crack at me as I ran across
the platform. It’s not the fault of
either that I'm not quite out of busi
ness."
An inner door back of me creaked
slightly. My captor swung round at
the sound.
“O Rosalind! It's all right. A gen
tleman here lost his way and I'm giv
ing him his bearings."
The door closed gently, and I heard
the sound of steps retreating through
the cottage. 1 noted the anxious look
in Holbrook's face as he waited for
the sounds to cease; then he ad
dressed me again.
“Mr. Donovan, this is a quiet neigh
borhood, and I am a peaceable man,
whose wordly goods could tempt no
one. There were undoubtedly others
besides yourself down there at the
creek, for one man couldn't have
made all that row; but as you are the
one I cai •» t I must deal with you.
Rut you have protested too much: the
idea of Italian bandits on Tippecanoe
creek is creditable to your imagina
tion, but it doesn’t appeal to my com
mon sense. 1 don’t know about your
being a guest at Glenarm house
even that is flimsy. A guest in the
absence of the host is just a little too
fanciful. I’m strongly disposed to
take you to the calaboose at Tippe
canoe village."
Having been in jail several times in
different parts of the world I was not
anxious to add to my experiences in
that direction. Moreover, I hal come
to this lonely house on the Tippeca
noe to gain information touching the
movements of Henry Holbrook, and 1
did not relish the idea of being thrown
into a country jail by him. I resolved
to meet the situation boldly.
“You seem to accept my word re
luctantly, even after I have saved you
from being struck down at your own
door. Now I will be frank with you.
I had a purpose in coming here—”
He stepped back and folded his arms.
“Yes, I thought so.” He looked
about uneasily, before his eyes met
mine. His hands beat nervously on
his sleeves as he waited, and I re
solved to bring matters to an issue by
speaking his name.
“I know who you are, Mr. Hoi
brook.”
His hands went into his pockets
again, and he stepped back and
laughed.
“You are a remarkably bad guesser,
Mr. Donovan. If you'had visited me
by daylight instead of coming like a
thief at midnight, you would have
saved yourself much trouble. My
name is displayed over the outer gate.
I am Robert Hartridge, the canoe
maker.”
(TO BE CONTINUED.)
Circus Daring Due to Heredity
Alfred T. Ringling tells me that
nine-tenths of the leading performers
before the public can be included in
30 families. As sharply defined as
any old English lineage, they can be
traced backward in some instances
more than two centuries—each gener
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