. THE SHADOW OF THE PALM
-_•_. , Jfr
t
A Tale of Love and Adventure
in the South Seas
L_
By BEATRICE GRISHAM
Illustrated by /. NORMAN LYND
J
THE trader rose slowly from his
hammock chair, yawned a little,
and stretched himself. He was
very tall. The stretch finished In a
reach up to the topmost shelf at the
store.
“Help yourself,’’ he said, placing
a hox of drugs on the counter. The
doctor selected a packet here and
a bottle there, smoking the while. It
seemed that there was no hurry.
There never was, In Manala.
“Patient?” queried the trader.
"No. Own work.”
“Ichthyology your special Job, Ivn t
It?"
“That and patching up anyone who
wants tt. Hardly anyone ever does.
Manaia's a healthy place.” The doc
tor looked at Lockhart Brothers’ tat
cst manager. There had been many
of Lockhart's traders In the pearling
Island of Manala, in the 11 years
«>f aiascntt's stay, hut no one of
them had used such a word a»
’ichthyology.” They spoke of the
scientific work as ' hug hunting In the
S’*****. "
I might describe myself as a
marine biologist on the whole,” prof
fered the doctor,
“Perfectly,” assented the trader.
< t la scot t glanced at hhn again. The
Idiom suggested a knowledge of
French. Lockhart's traders do not
speak Freiv h as a, rule. Nor do they,
on islands tike Manala. present them
selves at the receipt of custom clothed,
socked aod shaved. Rut the doctor
not exactly at a. loss. He had
spent many years among the islands.
"Another of them.” was his un
spoken comment. “Hope It. l-m t
drink.” lie watched the long, well
kepi hands. They did not shake. The
men's skin was clear, eyes bright;
Pother urn v in color, well set above
good features
’ Good looking ' was Glascott's
verdict. I don't think h« drinks. It
will Vie soiftPIhlng worse, then.”
For he knew h:- Islands, and he
knew lH r * men who talk about
"iohihyolnsy.” use French idioms, and
show a neat half-circle at the root
of the n.,Us. stay on civilization's
outposts not. because they will, but
because they must.
“How do you think you’re going to
like Manala?” he asked.
Lockhart’s trader looked out from
the cool dusk of the store to the
blatantly blue sea. There was nothing
in sight, front the store, that was
not shrieking blue, shrieking green,
or furious white. The colors of
Manala srreamed. So did Its sounds.
No small whisper of leaves, no lazy
drone of surf on far away coral, ca
ressed the ear. Such sounds there may
have been, even as there may have
been twittering of small birds and
humming of files on the beach, but
they were one and all drowned In the
unending rhythmical craah of trade
wind-drlven waves on loose coral
gravel, and the long cry of the south
east among the palms Everyone on
Manala talked with the voice slightly
raised, as men do who work in boiler
Jnotorles or weaving sheds.
“I think,” said I^ockhart's trader,
“that the business has been neglect
ed. 1 believe I can pull It up.”
Blascot accepted the courteous ro
luff.
“How do you like It?” said the
trader suddenly.
“Well enough. Perhnps too well,”
answered the doctor, filling his pipe
slowly -why should anyone hurry, in
Murrain. where every day had 48
In.n r at Ira St, and years were threo
yea < long?
• How do you mean?”
“Do you see that?” asked the
d<>e U-. pointing to the glaring sand
in Hunt of the trader's doorway. It
was afternoon, and a few thin, rest
less shadows danced on the beach,
like giant ostrich plumes shaken by
a colossal hand.
••The shadow of the palm? What's
In that?”
“If you don’t know,” said Glascott.
“you are luckier than most of us who
live up under the Line.”
“The shadow of the palm?” repeat
ed Lockhart's trader. “I don't quite
get—”
“Say it over to yourself n. few
times, and j'ou will. Goodbye.”
"Goodbye,” came the answer.
Lockhart’s trader sat finishing his
pipe. He understood what Glaacott
had meant. But that i>oint was too
sharp to he pressed home without
need. Even to himself he did not
like acknowledging that the shadow'
of the palm rested on him, as on
the other traders, and on the white
men of the shelling fleet, and the
nondescript few who wandered more
or less aimlessly about the 50-mlle
white beach that was Manala.
The shadows thrashed about on
■kMine sand, as the paint-fronds, 80 feet
above, thrashed on the merciless
southeast. On Manala, as on many
hundred other “low" Islands, you
were never out of touch of the In
evitable coconut. There Was only a
narrow strip of tidal beach, each side
of the long, belt-shaped island, over
which the tenuous, restless shadow*
did not fall. The palm gives no true
nhade. No Tiouseand-hcarth associa
tion clings about Its rocketing whits
stem and Insubstantial gray-green
star of crown, aa about the tamed
and humanized personalities of the
fig-tree and the vine. Flng of the
wanderer, of forgotten dwellers out
hack, of the ntan who was. and the
man who will never be, the palm
frond holds no sentiment of home.
It may be that Lockhart's trader
understood all this, or It mny be that
hi* thoughts ran on slightly different
lines. t’nconselously, for ninny
years of Island wandering, he hnrt
felt the palrn shadow rest upon his
life. It had been put Into words for
him; ho felt It consciously now. So
murh the more did it weigh.
He sat and smoked, and watched
the sun go down upon the empty
wen where never—almost never—a
Halt went by, and never any funnel
at nil.
Not one of the biggest or the mnst
Important of the pearling Island* la
Manala, but It turns out Its tale of
I lark lip and gold Up shell of baroque,
M* Mister, button, and fine pearl, year
by year. The lagoon Is BO miles
1 .ng; the shell Is easily got by nstlve
divers; It Is almost Inexhaustible.
Like everything else on Manala; It
•eems ns If It had never begun, and
never would cease to be,
Lvckhart'e trader—his name was
down on the books of the firm ns
Jones; a flsme somewhat overwoi kerl
among the islands, like biullh, wtl
Brown, and Johnson—shut the etore
—though It was not yet dusk—and
went to look for the other traders.
He had a mind to take a holiday next
day; and in the out back islands,
when you feel like holidaying, you
appeal to your brothers and rivals in
trade to join you honorably, and holi
day too. Jones was well aware that
this longing for unearned vacations
and for endless loafing was a shade,
a leaflet, from the many leaved
shadow of the palm. So was sleeping
after lunch. So was neglecting, not
raring, to read papers from home.
Tonight he wanted talk as other
men wanted drink. He had to have
It—and for the same reason. The
'.raders gave it to him.
Through the flood of conversation,
Lockhart's trader learned some start
ling things. Hr. Glascott was trying
(so the traders said) to make pearls.
Had been trying for IX years. Of I
course he would, not find out how.
No one ever had. Glascott's daugh- i
ter (Jones, of course, had heard he
had one—the only white woman on
Manaia, except the missionary’s
wife), was a pretty young girl, and
a real lady. No mother. Brought up
here since a little kid, the missionary
and his wife educating—with help
from Glascott himself. Wouldn’t
look the same side of the beach as
any white man on Manaia, hut they
all thought her bonzer. for all that.
Age? Nineteen to a week.
Lockhart’s trader name of Jones,
went home feeling that Manaia prom
ised to he interesting. He felt that
there might he a long, interesting
lcve-story ahead of him. A young
and beautiful girl—a professorial
father, wrapped up in science, but
doubtless resolved to see hUt daughter
mate worthily; secret meetings, per
haps (Imagination jibbed a little here,
for there was not one secluded spot
or. the whole of Manaia'* 50 mhes of
glaring sand nnd palms), a handsome
trader with a sad story In the past—
a romantic, girl who loved for love’s
sake only. It would he like some
thing In a book or on the stage.
The man named Jones fiaw a yenr
or two very pleasantly passed away
—In Ills dreams—with a "Take-her
and be happy" scene at the last, and
a .tin—large size—of Swift and
Arran's cake, gronnlng beneath the
tin-opener.
Beneath the shadow nil things are
leisurely, nor Is anything of much ac
count—save one. That thing Is swift,
that thing counts, outweighs all other1
things, turns rules Into exceptions,
and Its own huge, dark exception to
a rule. It Is death.
Lockhart's trader was busy next
morning—as much as he. or anyone,
was ever busy—shutting things up In
preparation for the holldny, when his
native cook boy paddled Into the
store.
"fine reva reva (letter) I gettum,”
he remarked.
’’Hnnd It here," said Jones, tsklng
the envelope without looking at it.
"Any answer?"
"No savvy." Then, ss an after
thought: "Te wahlne papa (the white
woman) stop long kltsen."
"The what?" Jones snatched at the
letter. It was directed to him In a
man's hand, clear though shaky.
“What can the doctor he writing
about?" he mused aloud.
"Horklta," remarked the cooky,
with the air of one who has Interest
ing gossip to relate, "docklta, he pln
iah" (finish).
"My soul! Is the doctor dead?"
"K! He go plnlsh. Altogether.”
Lockhart's trader pulled himself to
gether nnd unfolded the letter.
"Dear Jones," it began.
"I have no time for preliminaries.
I have been bitten by a sea-snake In
the neck while investigating lagoon
fish In their natural habitat. The
snake Is I’elnmla Blcolor, excessively
poisonous I mn alone In my house.
I scarified the bite after reaching
home, nnd applied permanganate of
potash. 1 have also taken strychnine
hypodermic, which will give me time
to write. As It Is Impossible to apply
a ligature, and ss some time was
consumed In reaching the house, I
have no possible rhance of recovery.
I shall no doubt be dead before my
daughter return*.
“No use commenting on things, no
time. You are a gentleman, the only
one here, end I believe you to he a
decent man. Of roni-se you have done
aomethlng I hope It's not very had
You >*lii iutve to ,*ec her ante to Byd
ney as soon ns a schooner calls. Get
a respectable native woman to stop
with her, if there is one. Tell her to
sleep with my Colt automatic under
her pillow. She understands it. Keep
the other men away as much ns you
can. 1 suppose you'll fall in love with
her. For the sake of your own
mother—treat her right. She will
have money. Get her away; the Isl
ands must not ha\’e her. May
heaven deal with you. Pulse slowing
very much, coma supervening.''
Then, dear, determined, drooping
across the page:
"JAMES GLASCOTT.''
Then, faint, trailing off into a
clear:
"Get her away."
It was only a few yards to the
Kitchen, but thought is quick, and
the man called Jones had time, he
ft' e he reached the separate small
hut behind the house, to realize that
ii!« romance of a lazy dream had aud
it nlv and embarrassingly leaped to
■ > nplete life. More, he had—ii seem
ed—come to tlie end before fairly
reaching the beginning. It was stag
gering. And he hadn't even seen the
girl.
The girl was sitting on a kitchen
chair, her head on one hnnd. She
was not crying. She was deathly
white and had blue marks under her
eyes; and about her nostrils there was
a look ,-u if someone had placed two
cruel fingers on each side of the lit
tle nose, anil pinched sharply down.
In the half-light, Jones could not
see tine details, hut the largeness of
her dtmly-dark eyes, the masses of
pals hair, the clean eggshape of the
fare, were visible at a glance; and all
spelled the one word, "Beauty.”
"Miss ftlnseolt—how can I say—"
he began. The girl scarcely looked a'
W\\WV<J
him, drew another letter from her
pocket.
"I think you'd better see It," she
sold; nnd donee knew, by the hoarse,
catarrhal sound nf her voice, that six
had been crying herself hnlf sick be
fore ahe conic,
"Yon wont this; take It,” he said,
setting beside her a tumbler half filled
with fiery port.
Kha took It eagerly. Jones Judged
that she wua o ntlie verge of a col
lapse, end glad to snatch nt any kind
of help. He ran on eye rapidly over
ihs second letter. It was In the anme
close script os the first, but the lines
writ more Irregular.
"Nadine, My Daughter," It began.
"You will auffer terribly when you
come home ond find me here, and I
can't soften the blow to you Tou
wore always brave, my girl; you will
have to i.a braver stllUtitodav. Think
that dud l.t with you, though silent
telling you what to do, and he sure
and do It.
"I have been bitten by n snake in
the neck, and can do nothing more.
I feel comb not far off. You will find
a letter addressed to Lockhart’s
trader. He is a gentleman, though
some sort of wrong 'tin; J believe you
can trust him, and you must, as the
Mission people are all away; I have
asked him to find a native woman to
stay with you, and to take you, if be
can manage It, down to Sydney by
the first schooner. Tell Lockhart
Brothers when you arrive, and they
will see he does not lose.
"There is a paper of the utmost
importance in the little safe in tho
sitting room. The key is round iny
neck. Leave the paper there till you
go south, and then take it with you.
and give it to my old friend. Brof.
Kaye of Sydney university. Your
whole future—I have no time. Kaye'e
wife will take care—Goodbye, my
darling. No burial. The boys to
take me beyond the reef. Goodbye."
The man named Jones read the
letter. The reference to himself,
which she had clearly overlooked,
did not seem to hurt him. He scanned
the girl with his handsome gold-grey
eyes. Nadine, brought back to life
and ordinary consciousness by the
wine, gave back his look with a
searching, pitiful glance of her own.
"Can I trust you? Can I trust you?”
she seemed to be saying. And the
kindly, handsome eyes, and the firm,
reliable hand that took hold of here,
gave answer even before the man
named Jones had spoken.
"I know the woman for you," he
told the girl. "We'll go and find her
now. The boys—did the boys—?"
"Yes,” said Nadine hoarsely. "I
told them to. He always hated—
graves. And he loved the sea and
everything In It. And it hns—"
Sne meant to say "It hag killed
him,” hut her voice gave way.
Nevertheless she followed the man
called Jones out Into the flaring sun
light, her head held up, anil her
delicately shaped face unstained by
tear*.
"She 1* game," thought the man to
hlmaelf. A thrill of admiration ran
through him. "How could » man do
belter?” wne his thought, Olnirott'a
sentence, "She will have mnnev,”
crossed hi* mind "It can't lie much,”
lie thought Indifferently. "The doctor
lived lilt* a poor man,"
Away on the farther beach canoes
were being launched, the cut ion
finery of the native girl* showed In
vivid splashes of color, the khaki
figures of while men moved about.
All Manilla was bound on holiday.
"There will be nothing to disturb
her today or tomorrow, and she can
have all her cry out," thought lAO-k
linrt'a trader, lie found the woman
hn bad bean looking for, un old ua
Nevertheless she followed the man Jones . . . her head held up and her
delicately shaped face unstained with tears. . . . Away on the
further beach canoes were being launched. . . . All
Alanaia was bound on holiday.
/ktxumttM
•T«a*’ niclit, to wahlne pnpn no sleep. Too nuirli him cly."
tlve with a touch of white blood
somewhere in her history; told her to
take good care of the little chieftain
ess, and then went back to his store.
"I'll come and see you soon,” he
said, pressing the girl's cold fingers
in his own warm hand. "Send tor
me instantly if anything is wanted.
I shan't go away, but I’ll leave you
to yourself for a couple of days.”
“Little witch,” said the trader to
himself. "I wish it was the day
after tomorrow. It’s long to wait.”
As things happened, it was not
long. JJy 7 o'clock next morning, the
old woman whom he had sent to take
care of Nadine was on his veranda.
"You looking out along dis wahine
papa?” (white woman) she asked,
taking her black pipe out of her
mouth.
"Yes." answ'ered Lockhart's trader.
"Me t’ink,” observed old Mala,
“more better you marry dis wahine
papa. More better marry him
hurry up."
"I shouldn't object,” was the
trader'* answer, "but I daresay
there'd be two words to that bargain.
I mean. Mala, that wahlne papa
maybe him no want along me-fellow,”
he translated.
"Las’ night, me no sleep,” re
marked Mala.
"Oh?"
night te wahlne papa no
sleep. Too much him cly.’’
"Yes, I suppose so," se'd th# man
called Jones. Poor, pretty, lonely
girl!
"Te wahlne papa, me, no sleep al
together. By-’n-’by, him fllnlsh cly,
him too much tired. No sleep, stop
long bed. Me atop long floor. No me
talk, no him talk. By-'n-by, me
hearem sometlngs.”
"Oh—you heard something?"
“Bo. Me hearem one man. Two
mans."
The trader waa wide awake now A
red hot word or two escaped his lips.
"Eo," assented Mala, agreeing.
“Bad man. Come flghtem along
door” (hitting the door). "Te wahlne
papa, hi mtakem gun, him soot up
long te roof. Man he flight, he go.”
“Did they aay anything?" asked
Jones furiously. Only let him get a
clue to th# name or names of the In
truders!
He hardly knew It, hut In that mo
ment his resolution was taken. It
was very clear that some man would
have the girl. The man should he
himself. He was Incomparably the
most worthy on Manala. Nadine, In
all honor, and most for her own sake
—though not a little foe hla—should
he his wife, and as soon as posslbl*.
But Mala was speaking again.
“Man him talk, yes,” she observed
'Him sing out along te wahlne papa,
'Openem eafe. "
"Open the safer’ A recollection
darted through the trader's mind.
"She will have money." Could the
doctor have anything hoarded away?
What did he mean hy "valuable
paper*’’" Probably bonds of some
kind. Whatever It was, the riffraff
of the “beach” seemed to know all
about If.
The bungalow stood In the fierce
light of th# coral beech. Olascott hsd
had It built right down on the sand,
for the convenience of hla work.
"Eleven year*,” thought the trader
"Eleven years wasted-nothing to
show for It all, and the girl hurled
away up here. He mennt ahe should
go away. H# waa ao afraid, poor dev
il. of that shadow of the palm" he
talked ahout. And how—”
Now, as things had turned out, the
shadow was to 11* on little Nsdlna'a
Ilf# forever. No one knew better than
"Jones" why an existence linked to
hla could not be lived elsewhere than
among the "legions of the loat." But
he had a fund of hard common sense
thst forbad# him to sentlmentallxe
over the Inevitable. With drunken
beach combers battering at th# girl's
shutters In the middle of the night—
'here wna only one course possible,
and that course must he taken nt
once No schooner wna due for
months. He could not protect theglrl
for n week nmnng that crowd—unless
he had the right to do so every hour
of the twenty four.
Nadine was on the vernudn, He Kit
down hesld# her. He snw how vary
fnlr ahe was. And the girl, looking on
the trader’s splendid height and hand
some face, nald to herself, ss ninny
a woman In the world, who would die
rather Ilian acknowledge It, has wild
"Oh, 1 like you. 1 think I would
marry you tomorrow If you naked
me" But ahe thought th<s as one
thinks, "I would gather gtarn and
string them, If the sky were to full
111 my lap."
Then the sky fell. Fur Dockhart's
trader slid tier little hand gently into
Ills own and said, "Nadine, what do
you think about marrying me’"
' I 1 I haien't thought about It
anhl Nadine confusedly.
"Don't von think you could'’ You
want to he taken care of. You can t
be exposed to—to—well, you know
your father left me In charge of you.
and I don't see any other way. Do
you, Nadine?”
The girl made no answer in words.
"There Isn't any other way,” said
Jones, and, very gently kissed her.
At this she suddenly burst out cry
ing, and said, "I have forgotten fath
er—oh, dear, dear father!" But the
man called Jones was not dissatisfied
“Tomorrow," It was agreed. And
that night Lockhart's trader lay
across the doorway of the bungalow
outside on the verandah. And no
footsteps came near the house. But In
the morning he saw hootmarks on the
sand hclow, and he silently cursed.
■'Today,” he said to himself.
He breakfasted with Nadine, old
Mala waiting. "I've something to
tell you before you marry me," he
said. "It may make you feel bnd
about It, hut I hope It won't, because
It would be dlfllriult to manage any
other way. However, It shall be as
you like. Fifteen years ago, Nadine,
I killed a man—a fight and he was
dead.”
“Well. I had a good counsel, or
they'd have hanged me. I got five
years, and aerved It all, because I
tried to escape. I had to leave Kng
land after. I tried Sydney—Buenos
Ayres—Hong Kong. All the same.
My history came after me. I fancy
the police hand on those things. Any
how, It was the Islands for me at
last, and it will have to be. till the
end. What do you say now. Nsrttne?”
"I can’t do what your father
wanted for you. You will have to
stay In the islands.”
"I always have, ever since I re
member,” she said In a low tone.
“Anything before that seems like a
dream.”
“Kittle girl." said T^ickhart's trader,
"It's not the big live world outside
that's the dream: It's the Islands
themselves We all live In a dream
here."
"Then I'd rather go on dreaming,”
she told him.
"Things will be as they must be.”
said the man named Jones, and went
out to see the magistrate.
The way to the hut that passed
for a residency was by the main road
of the bench. Men weie moving ex
citedly about the aand when Jonos
came up from the end where Olas
cott's bungalow stood. There was
loud talking and quarreling.
"They are drunk." thought Kock
hart's trader, Inferring that yester
day's holiday hail been too much for
the crowd.
He passed them by with a swing
ing step—he was the one white man
on Mannla who did no* progress with
the "Pacific alouch"—and was almost
out of earshot, when a single phase
caused him to turn round In his
tracks. Pearl manufacture”
He stood still. The wind crashed
In the palms overhead, the sea hurst
on the coral bench. How those f*l
lows were shouting! He could hear
almost alt they said.
"I tell you, the boy swore It. Said
h# had aeen the pearls. In a bottle.
Rig as buttons.”
"Yes, all from the same small
place, where he'd planted the oysters
himself. I swear, he got It before
he—"
"Whether she does or doesn't don't
matter, Bona* of us will—"
"It's a million fortuns*—”
The man named Jones was a quick
thinker. He turned off through the
palms, and went hack to the bunga
low unseen.
Nadine was not on the verandah:
she had gone Into the hot little sit
ting room, and was standing before
the steel safe that Olasseot had Im
ported from Sydney, only a month or
two entiler. In her hand was a key.
"Are you going to look for the pa
pers’" he asked hei "Do you know
what they are?”
"No," answered the girl. "Rut I
thouaht—I thought—there might lie
another letter for me, and I didn't
want to mis*-"
"Nadine- Is It possible you don't
know what people are anylng?”
• What?"
"The men on the beach are saying
vnur father found the serret before
ho died—It seems his hoys saw
things."
"Hs never told me," said Nadine,
her eyes growing hlg "He—he only
said—-I remember, lately, he used to
be always telling ms that 1 should
never want for anything, and that we
would take a trip to Paris. But 1
didn't listen ss I should have You
knew, everyone In the Islands says
things like that.”
"Ay. 1 know' Well, l can under
stand Ills not telling you Hs thought
you were safe- without such a piece
of knowledge It would be a heavy
Ink for mil Milt I lie boys nave gl\en
It away. I think you'd better open
the safe anil look Inside. As well be
sure.'' «
"Why?'’ said Nadine, turning round
with the key in her hand—and now
she was alive and awake—"why don't
you like It?”
"nid 1 say I didn't?”
"Ydur voice tells me.”
"My voice tells lies I'm very glad
Indeed, If It turns out true—for your
sake.”
"Why not yours?''
"Let me turn the key for you: safe
keys aren't managed like that—
there.”
"It Is true,” breathed Nadine, star
ing into the safe. There was a small
bottle inside, with five or six pearls
in it. large, beautifully colored, and
uniform in size. There was another
bottle, full of lesser gems, almost all
the •unit size to a hair. Between the
two lay a small parchment envelope,
staled, tilt name of a well-known Aus
trallan man of science written on tt.
The girl heard Lockhart's trader
catch his breath.
"What is it?” she asked, swinging
round to look at him. .She was learn
ing love's lessons quickly. Her man
should not suffer pain that she could
prevent.
But Jones had nothing to sav.
He stood, staring at the lagoon
Was It the sealight that made his j
face so pale?
“They are worth a good bit." he!
said. "One could easily hire a pearl J
ing lugger—and catchc the steamer
at the Kariva islands. One could get
off tomorrow—or today. I could see
you to Kariva.”
"What dn you mean?” asked Na
jdlne In a. low. startled voice. "I don’t
understand.''
"I've got to make you. This
changes everything.” He went on.
despite the sudden clutch of the small
fingers. ' Nadine, don't you see? If
your father got that secret before he
died—about the history of the para
site that makes the pearls—and
there’s no reason why he shouldn't:
someone was bound to some day—you
are about the biggest heiress in all
the world. You can't go on living
in the Islands. It would be madness.”
"Father tised to say," said the girl
breathlessly, "that If he ever did
complete the life history of the para
site, and produce it whenever he
chose, It would destroy the pearl In
dustry. and amash prices.”
"When It's known—Yes. But as
long as the secret is kept in right
hands, there's millions in it. Can't
you understand, you're a sort of little
princess, or going to be? And—I—no
man—it wouldn’t be right or decent
—to ti* you to these outback places
at the end of the world."
Nadine was quite coo] now. and
exceedingly awake.
"Then you don't wish to marry me,
any longer?" she asked.
“'You are not going to marry me?”
"Nadine, how could 1 do It?”
“I would stay."
"I’d be the lowest of curs If I let
you.”
“You could come away—and not
mind—” she murmured.
"Only to another place like this. I'm
In the shadow—as your father said—
for life. He never wanted you to
stay In it If you married me, you'd
he In the shadow for good—you who
are the richest girl in the—It's no use.
I've made you cry again. Nadine!”
But the ghl had darted away,
Jones took another turn up and
down the veranda. If she was cry
ing, he could not hear her.
"Nadine!" he called. She made no
answer, hut he could hpar her stir
ring, somewhere altout the back
veranda. The sounds stopped. It was
quiet In the house, save for the eter
nal shrilling of the wind among the
palms. Mala had gone out: the place
was very solitary.
Nothing to be heard. Nothing to
*ee, hut the dance of the blown sand
along the beach, and hibiscus hells,
golden and ruby-hearted, flying before
the wind, and
Paper? Black paper In fragments,
blowing round from the hack of the
house. Paper undoubtedly. Burned
paper. And a smell of hurning some
where at the hark.
"She -she can't-—" said Lock
harts tiader; and made s rush for
i h» house.
You shouldn't burn'papers so close
10 the house In a high wind," he
proffered. "What have you been
hurning?" He made his tone quite
commonplace, because now he was
sure that no one could be such an
angelical tool—no one ought to.
"I've been burning the letter to
Professor Kaye." she said. "Thsre s
nothing left, nothing, nothing—ex
cept perh ps a necklace for me."
Jones took hold of the veranda rail
to steady himself.
"Oh, my girl, my girl, what have
you done?” he cried.
"I—didn’t want to be an heiress—
and go away," said Nadtote. “If you
teil me you're sorry-”
"Sorry?” said Lockhart's trader:
and took her In his arms.
They walked together down the
long beach to the magistrate's under
the palms; and the shadow* were
full of golden light.
(Copyright. ItSS.l
Since cold baths Increase blood
i pi essure. those who have high blood
pressure should not take them.
MOTHER ? Fletcher’s Castoria is a pleasant, harmless sub
stitute for Castor Oil, Paregoric, Teething Drops and Soothing
Syrups, prepared for Infants in arms and Children all ages.
It has been in use for more than 30 years to safelv relieve
Constipation Wind Colic To Sweeten Stomach
Flatulence Diarrhea Regulate Bowels
Aids in the assimilation of Food,promoting Cheerfulness.Rest and
Natural Sleep without Opiates
To amid imitation* alwav* look for the signature of
Proven direction* on each package. Phv»ician* everywhere recommend it.
WANTED! 15,000 SBFFEREIS FROM
DEAFNESS
HEAD NOISES
Or Nasal Catarrh
I want the name* of 15.000 people who are
suffering from cartourhal deafne», dullness of
hearing or head noises. 1 have an original home
treatment far theae (UMitwrj .'uadlltoas wt.trh I want rmt W»
try without coat or evpmat \ suffered f<v many year* with
catarrh, deafeM* and head antae* tied many <11 fryer-t t**at
M.r: tt !ud tu.' eu**1<'*j epee* upas all c4 tMrh felled to five
d . ^lunuanent rriiet I Invin fvimrwntu* pm myaaif amt fnaity
nxihd a treatment whwh complete!* hra'ed my catarrh ra
wawrwata sm«iaiiii et.%r*d my heartnf end Hepped Um tamwe head natex. 1 warn
you to try this splendid treatment entirety at my c*ww expense.
15,000 TREATMENTS TO ETD|TCf
BE GIVEN THIS MONTH ■ FtKE.
l am an proud or my treat mart and ao anttooa to
help other* an (Terr i mi with daafPeaa head tmlaee or
catarrh that 1 will have packed end read* for ahlp
ntanl 1ft 000 demonstration treatment# which I alii
•!«e away In Use neat *0 day* abe»iut*iv free l
want tn pwr* that my original home treatment
win ft'a relief from Oaiarrhal deafaaaa head
***** of naaal catarrh The reeutte are auvek and
fgavtucla* You feel the difference the m*t da\
Thta treatment coata you nothing whatever Wro
pt> writ# amt aae that ywu aee auffecing with deat
hs <* head notaee or catarrh 1 wtu «i*4U ernd
the free treatment It la the heel treatment T have
eecr found in user 40 yeare dally practice m eta.
aar noae and throat ai«evtatt»1 1 want ever* •>i#efar
with d earn me dulinaaa of beano* head MftM* or
catarrh to try ft tree
Don't Neglect Deafness
Oaiarrhal deataeae head tsotaea and catarrh
when no* tec ted tra.tuaMvgrow wore* ant ho it lea
claim that v <*( all deaftvean la cauaed t*tmem
th hy catarrh *1 the head amt atr naaaMae.
Other* aval* that eatan h ea-.ieea it>.tvfC*UoA,
rhe-.iuattarv catarrh rtf the atomenh ami auy
other (Uaeaaect comV.tkme
Try It Free
1 dAttT aak cwi to eerwt eee penrv Fee tMe
tTHlmetit 1 aeml It free la ym MhMtd ett-V
«tuI crte* I am a uui tMa ta QtaMmty tntradaea
my •'Ttetnal hant treat ate* t w anffecere *f
catarrhal deefneea. head mu*** *r catarrh I
belter# I treat m.tre caeca »* »tca r*#ae ha ad n.aaey
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HUtw I knee thia uealmmt M the heat I Kara
ever vtaaat (Mart year name amt a«Mraaa today,
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rtr Mat hare oat err* Title MW mat M ap
pear mm eo ar*te me at ertce
Pft.W. O. COFFEE. Suit! St. Jama* Hot.l Bldg., DatMiport,