Omaha daily bee. (Omaha [Neb.]) 187?-1922, April 09, 1922, SOCIETY EDITORIAL, Image 17
tiu: pec., omaha. Sunday, april 0. 1022. giiiitiiiniiiiwHMnMiiiiiiittiiiiMiiiiininitwiMiimiiiiiiiwiiiiiiiiiiMiiiiititwM miiiiiiitiiiniHiiiMiiiiiiiiiitiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiniiiiiiiiiimiiu iiiMiiiiiiiiiiiiinifiiitiiiMiiiiiiiiiitmiiiitiiniiiitttniitiiiiiiiiiMritiiiiHiniiniiiiiiiiM tHiiiiintiimiiiriiiiiiiiiniiiiiiiininiiiiiininq The WANTED MAN by Harris Dickson "'"'"""""HIHHIIIIIIIIIMIIIIimilllllllHIIIHimiHIIIIIIM IIIIIIIIIIIIIHIIIIMIIIIIIIUIIIIIimilltll JIIIIIIIMIIIIIIIIIIIIIIUIIItlllllllllMllltllHIIIIIIIIIHIUIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIItllllMIIIIIIIHIIIIIIIIIIIII lllg x.4 IT r- r p n In , Jf- rt Is In. ed let a. It- led k-ist So ng ng It of up pg- at' aca ton- bne as hi rht, lm. Jn't ach the bn't Jyou re go his Bera fcnta. plea. h to Until been ea igata I lost, get- fwith bl as lean it.' bked told He's i-er'a bet lifted Imer kinst did. fed a tha freed will any rke. hter- o go lany- and box.' pres put goes :ard.' tha ough ut a lutea 1HK iTOHt'TUlk IAU OV nprnmita tidtt of M MarmUm, in MuHutppi, art twt U, i uait Ptrmtngton, ou-n4 by Maf. Knnih and l annum, property of Ceo. Bob Ctayum, tollnu ing a bittar ewf, 6ti. Clayton hat flM to Stkunantn, Canual Amartra, utth hi urn ,W, Mimm re br4 on a mvuorwuj mtata afW ima yeari and j .e tuvry ffixni M-rai da-l friir4 a, a hum inn him. LnrU Aa. Mnl.i i f j . . , imiiw, ios fo aiurmion uw warn Stuart, but it grartad to toUly Km impaeU tha youth it an imnounr. Bar, ham, Maf. Stork' bmulijul dauthuf, and hmr auati Adalaida, u-ia of Hon Katilly, a jeaUms crania, kta a trrtt at tha I. on Oak uuh a myiMrtaui ) - man ia iowe ariiA Barbara, rho hat, totd him tha it' AJaUUa." bncla Nat rwvaU hu tmnUinnt rtgnrdvtg Stuart, with tha ratal i liar bora gram Miutrt, ulio it tha tnyttrrinu honenan, coldly uhn ha ar rive, lit ctotpi hir in hu ormj and lo an pa hun tha trllt a faUahoodthal tha it mumiad. Tha tirtt Ua at BatiUy ap proarhat. Unci fiat bobt up again mnd thit lima rarognUtt Stuart, u-ko pita him mom or "Adalaida" and arrongm m randaavoMt in an old grovryaid near Urn. it'nfion, L'nela IS at trirt vainly to da Uvar tha not to Adalaida and finally by ptittak hand it to Horian with toma thar Utttrt. Tha madly jealout hutband confront tha innocant AdeUxida, ten finally tallt him to ak Barbara.' Bar. bora appra. SIXTH INSTALLMENT, " That Not la Minal " WHILE Nat was Umbering up for an other beat h aaw Razilljr glanoa acala at tha hedxa. then rush to the steps and snatch bis rifle. Wbera vpon old Nat rose Uka a quail and resumed hia departure. Instead of cbaslnf tha runaway Nat, Mr. Tlorlan ItaxUly went bounding up tha back steps and raced along tha vast hallway of Bennington House. From afar off Adelaide beard him coming, liar door stood slightly ajar, and through Its crack she saw bis Insane fury. Never had Pierian seemed so maddened, and Adelaide thought of fleeing across tha ball to take refuge with Barbara, Too lata. Tha demented husband might eatch her. Of course, she could clear herself If he would only listen; and the terrlflod little figure hesitated as she glanced about for a biding place. No. She must face him, be aim, and gain time. Like many volatile women, Adelaide got excited over trifles, but eould summon the most amazing composure to meet an actual danger. Frightened as she was, sba sat down quickly at her dressing table and became occupied with some Intri cate rearrangement of hair. A mouthful of hairpins would serve as her pretext for llence while Florlan talked himself out Then sha could handle him. Her door opened violently, and Adelaide . first saw tha muzzle of a rifle; not that Florlan planned to threaten her, but tha weapon chanced to be In his hand. Then' Florlan himself towered like a god of venge . ance upon her threshold. One moment he glared In crushing stillness before producing tha proof as he accused her: , Madame, here's a note from your lover." Adelaide bad meant to be self-contained, to bold her temper as well as her tongue, but when French met French she sprang up with face as white as his was red, and exclaimed' " My lover! You Insult me! " "Spare your theatricals, madam e," he nocked. " I've caught you. Read that! " " Let ma sea It! " She held' out her hand Cor tha note, but ha snatched it away. " 80 this Is what you've been doing! This Is why you've been taking long rides? Meet ings at the lake? With a criminal " Hush, Florlan, hush! People will hear you." " 1 want them to hear! Tha whole worldl I shall proclaim It! - "But listen to me, listen " "Why listen? Can I not read? Can I nol aee? " Ha tossed tha rifle on their bed, kicked bis helmet into a corner, and moved, crouch ing, toward her, with convulsive fingers working like a strangler'a "Did yon meet Btuart Clayton?" " I'm not sure, I " " Not sure? Mon Dleu! Madame Is not sure! " This set Razilly wild again, ruffling . his hair and raving like a madman; which bad tha effect of steadying Adelaide as he whirled and thrust his face Into her own. "Madame, I command you to tell the truth." She threw back her bead and laughed hysterically. "How can I tell tha truth, until " " No, mon Dleu! Tou cannot tell the truth." "Not until I see the note," she finished. "Ahl His note. From his dear hands! No! I tear It up! I trample it under my foot! I spit upon ltl " But Florlan did not tear nor spit; ha only trampled, and struck tragic atti tudes, until Adelaide knew that he was run- , ning short of breath. So she reached out . - again and said, almost quietly, " Give me the ' note." "There! Take it!" He folded his arms and devoured her face as she received her condemnation. It might well have been a laundry list, for Adelaide never batted an eye nor showed a tremor of guilt while sha tried to decipher tha scrawl. He grew impatient, he flung apart his arms. i "Well! Weill Have you no defense?1" "What Is this word, Florlan?" she in quired, with the tip of a polished nail point ing out the puzzle. " That? " he answered scornfully. "Thoss words are plain. 'Our last meeting.', What about your last meeting? " " It's too funny," she chuckled. Of course, this is 'our last meeting,' but It Books more like ' one lost mutton.' Florlan, really you must complain to the poetofflce authorities. This note is not for me." Not for your' His dark eyes contracted to a keen little point, sharp as his question, " Tou think to trick me like a fool? . See! There's your name, A-d-e-l-a-l-dVe." He turned over the envelope and showed the address. Now, Madame, no more of your lies. Did you meet him?" "I? Tell you a lie? Now, I tell you . nothing.". Adelaide fronted him defiantly, and repeated, " Nothing! Nothing!" " Tou will tell me! . I must And out!" " Then find out for yourselfor ask Bar bara." The husband fumed In helpless rage. He eould not strike her, nor shoot, nor choke; and even his muddled senses realised that no human power could force Adelaide to talk. " Madame," he said, " It Is shameful to in quire of strangers, but I shall ask Barbara" - They both turned as Barbara's voice I came to them from the opposite room. " Oh, dorian." she called, " did yon speak to mar . aT, Pasters, jr." Adli4a anr4 aul.'kly. " Dn torn hr, plraaa. pScata,1 Now MivUn h lhl A4lt(t'i rwliU' sue tu DMuly ona, that aha w cUlitf dip hlp. rW!r h4 gt A I'.Ma Into tmuMe ui mut i't her out. 9o ha hurried ia (heir opan dunr and looked In with tha question; What (lid you want U ak maT O, ItarUra, IWirhara, do lall him An arrncKt leaiura aaaled hia wife's Up, M (ha hustand turned to Itarhara: "I hva tncrceptad thw love oot for Mm. TUallly, n4 " " Give it to me." Whether he would or no, Barbara took it from him. "And I ipust know "Hush! Wait."' she ordered, while Florlan squirmed and obeyed until Barbara had read It through, then calmly stuffed the note Into her pocket. " Pardon me." He reached forward. " But I will keep that." "Indeed you will not This Is mine." - "Tours? Ha! That's good. Excellent! But do you expect me to believe It? You are hiding my evidence. In his lucid intervals even Florlan must have known better than to exasperate Bar bara Stark when she turned such magnificent ayes upon him. But tha blind husband could not see, for he ranted Insufferably: "You women have made up this tale! I've been watching you. I've seen you whispering to gether, and " " Shut up, Florlan! - Don't try to make yourself a bigger fool than God made you. Hush! and listen. I have been meeting Mr, Stuart Clayton. Adelaide has gone with me " The Creole shrugged his shoulders and sneered: " Tell that to an imbecile. He ad dresses his note to my wife." "Ha did not Intend to. Mr. Clayton be lieved my name to be Adelaide." " Indeed!" From one to the other Florlan smiled in scorn until Barbara's lips grew white, although she strove to control herself and explain: " I misled Mr, Clayton, in sport This dear girl had nothing to do with It," and Barbara put an arm around her friend. " Your pretty story won't go," Florlan marled. "Not with me. I know women. You two are lying to protect a fugitive who dares not show his face. But I saw him at tha lake, and 111 get him before night 111 get him! I'll get him!" - Bareheaded and distracted as a wqn Florlan rushed from the room and went tear ing through the hallway, while Adelaide clung to Barbara. "O, Barbara, Barbara, what will we do?" "Nothing," she answered calmly. "Hell chase himself around until he cools off. But I must And Uncle Nat and send a message to Mr. Clayton."' 1 Though she had scoffed at Florlan's threats, Barbara feared all fools as being dangerous, and her prank might cause a tragedy if this unhaltered Idiot should blun der into Stuart Clayton. After reading his note over and over, she Inferred that Clayton must be waiting near to receive an answer, and Nat would know the place. But the Negro had evaporated into thin air, and she did not want Razilly to hear her calling for him. Instead of shouting she hurried around and questioned everybody, everybody except Razilly himself; who alone could have told her how old Nat went driving through the Cherokee roses. For a brief and harrowing suspense Uncle Nat had remained crouched behind the pro tection of his hedge, getting more scared as the infuriated Razilly glanced toward him and grasped his rifle. At which old Nat glanced toward the big woods and grabbed bis hat In token that be meant to leave. With a wide, wide world outspread before him, the stampeded Negro had no particular destination; he was traveling for his health. At first he broke toward the denser woods, then changed his mind and dodged back; by that route he must cross half a mile of pas ture where the sights of a rifle could cover every inch of his way. Instead of making a fair target in the open, Nat ran behind the clumps of Cherokee roses which flanked the driveway, skipped over to a patch of briara and thence proceeded elsewhere. Tha shortest distance between two given points ia a straight line, and when he began to think at all Uncle Nat hewed to this line, for the old Fearna graveyard where his sole friend would be waiting. For some two hun dred yards his course lay parallel with tha public road, which he avoided because Mr. Razilly might overtake him on the filly. He also avoided Mr. Josh Walker's store - .- "K,f 1 V-ra mt mnd think. rM"'.-uir Nas i.ri lit v-7 VX L-'v xi'y. VaJ that fronts tha road and raced through the woods at the rear, where Mr. Josh couldn't sea him. Up to this point old Nat's legs were exclusively engaged in tha business of departure, his mind being unengaged. It re quired no prophet to foretell what would hap pen to him if he remained at Bennington, But now ha began to consider what was liable to occur at the graveyard if ha told Mr, Stuart that Miss Adelaide's husband had got his note. This "-nght applied the air brakes, and Nat slowed down to a full stop. . "Huh!" ha grumbled. "Jes da mlnlt I glimpsed dat automobile I got a hunch dat somethln' was flxln' to take place." On account of Mr. Razilly he could not go back home. And he dared not pester Mr. Stuart by telling him of the husband's de nunciation as a scoundrel, an infernal hound, and a low dog. Mr. Stuart favored his pa too much for old Nat to risk giving him such information. Gen. Clayton used to snort fire when something pestered him, and Nat had . no yearning to get caught in a graveyard with the son of a man who snorted fire. '''Huh!" he pondered. "Dese whits folks Is contrivin' to mix ma up In dis. Reckon I better tell Mister Stuart somethln' nice, den - travel long wid him." Under these precarious circumstances it seemed prudent to first take a look at Mr. Stuart and make sure that he was not snort ing fire. Ignorant people maintain that a negro does not think; but Nat was thinking, thinking mighty fast He had already blun dered within a hundred yards of the ceme tery, entirely too close for a colored person who had prepared no tale to make him wel come. Ha had also been approaching in the direction .from which he was expected, and the fire snorter might see him first. So Nat determined to flank tha graveyard from the southwest, and take Clayton's measure be fore Clayton took his scalp. ' ' The maneuver presented no difficulties! He accomplished a wide detour through the underbrush before he began sneaking up behind the graveyard wall and crawling through a tangle of vines with his hat in his hand. Tha place looked uncannily lonesome, and haunted, and scary. When Nat lifted his bushy head to recotmolter, every hair stood up with Its Individual case of grave yard bristles. H expected to find Mr. Stuart sitting like a ghoul on a tomb. But he did not He only saw the crumbling wall of brick and mortar, broken by growing roots, saw tha toppling headstones under the shade of funereal cedars, and the ground dank with matted periwinkles. Nobody was in sight, and Nat got mighty anxious to glimpse some human person wearing store bought clothes.. Graveyards, as a merry habit, were hot the form of dissipation which appealed to Uncle Nat Stark. Even In the brilliant noon day, when bright with flowers and flapping with the wings of sculptured angels, Nat would never choose a graveyard for solitary visiting. And now, when night wta falling, this patch of cedared scariness made him wish for company. The old Fearne burial ground bad been deserted for half a century, and he always passed It in a hurry, passed on the far side of tha road, and watched over his shoulder every minute. The Fearne family were ion extinct, its last member by suicide, and Nat's black face looked ashen as he poked It above the wall. He stood Up and called, "Mister Stuart!" his muffled voice rousing no answer except a creepy lot of whispering among th cedars. "Ugh! He ain't come ylt Reckon I'll git out o' here an' wait fer him In de road." At the crucial moment when Nat began setting one foot behind the other to maks his sneak he heard a thud, like a clod of dirt dropping on a coffin, and rolled his eyes fear aomely toward it " Dat you, Mister Stuart? " It wasn't and mn placa ta ttda by ttda utith mold t ring msn manta of daath. Nat dreaded to Imagine who else It might be. Another clod dropped. Cold shivers chased each other through him, and Nat wished himself safe at Bennington, with Mr. Raxlllv choking him half to death. At a single glance ha selected tha nlgheat path out of that graveyard and started to run, when a horse nickered and raised its head. " Da Stockln'footl " ha gasped. " Mister Stuart, whar Is you? " No human voice replied, and Nat broke through the briars to where the sorrel stood hitched in a thick clump of myrtle. No rider. He stared all around, squinted under tha .cedars where that crazy Fearna woman lav In her sunken grave. " Mister Stuart! Mis ter Stuart!" he quavered, and tha cedars shuddered at such unwonted disturbance. "Huh!" Nat groaned. "Mister Stuart done come, an' gone gone." Uncle Nat Stark didn't hanker to visit this graveyard at all. He had approached It with slow, respectful pace, using every trick of woodcraft to avoid making a noise. But he didn't seem to care how much fuss he made in getting out He whirled to leave and hia foot caught In a vine, which started him off with a Jump. After that Nat kept Jumping and thrashing through the tangle until he scrambled into the public road, hit the ground running, and never looked behind. There was nothing behind him that Nat craved to see. Ahead of him lay Mr. Walker's store, and he aimed to get there before something that he didn't want to see might catch him. Like a comet at the apex of his dust tall, tha duck legged sprinter rounded a bend in the road, and modified his orbit so as Just to graze the front of Mr. Walker's atepa. As everyboy knows, Josh Walker keeps a general mercantile shack oh the east side of the main highway. In summer time Mr. Josh himself can always be seen upon its narrow gallery, or In winter huddled beside a tiny stove set among tha sawdust for expectoral ' convenience. At this lonesome moment no body sat upon, Walker's gallery, where Nat hoped to greet companionship and protection. Something else must have happened. Maybe Mr. Stuart had coma up there to confer with Mr. Walker, and they had gone inside where folks couldn't aee him. Already Nat heard voices raised in disputa tion; twice he caught the name of " Clayton," mentioned in a tone which indicated that the owner of it was not present ' These argu ments at Walker's store were rarely impor tant, for its patrons always wrangled; yet they might know something about where Mister Stuart had gone, and Nat itched to find out With a quick swerve he took the side track and turned In south of the store to listen at a window. Inside the bristly chinned proprie tor was maintaining auch hot debate against Mr. Sam McGillicutt and Bud Shocky that none of them noticed a head which raised itself above their window sill. After catch ing a firm grip old Nat drew himself up until hia white eyes searched the Interior. Mr. Clayton was nowhere In the store, but Nat saw all the other folks, and could even hear snatches of what they said. " It's mighty funny," Mr. Josh contended, " comln' home after twenty years got ar-' rested Washington detectives. What you reckin that Clayton feller done? " The paralyzed Negro let go h'ls clutch of the window sill and dropped upon the ground. , " Mister Stuart 'rested. Lawd! Lawd!" Now he understood the sorrel abandoned . in the graveyard; the constables In the auto mobile; the nippers, and Nat also remem bered his hunch. " Dar now! Dey done grabbed Mister Stu art; done grabbed him." Nothing eould hive hindered Uncle Nat from going into Walker's store to hear the harrowing details. Yet he took the precau tion of circling around to the front and trolling In from the direction of Bennington. " Howdy, Mister Josh! Howdy, Mister Mao, Mister Bud." He spoke politely. "How's ev'ybody? Please gimme a dime's worth o' tobacco; an' major say what's de news?" Each ten cent purchase at Josh Walker's emporium carried with It a bonus of free information. Josh played no favorites and held back no gossip on account of race, color, or previous condition of servitude. With a dime plug of tobacco In hand, Nat presented his credentials and learned that the whole entire United States government had been hunting that Clayton feller that the Presi dent's high detectives had Just grabbed him that he was being aken to Washington city in an automobilethat the President himself had come after him with many sen sational deductions from these established facts. " Anyway, it's a cinch they got him," Josh Walker elap4 bis counter meat Miphalle ally aa ha ummrd HP tha statistics. "Terlivea! Pat's da tiaad's tronr." Unela Nat contributed hia mit a. "Ir waa de him white mn abut I aa4." Tou? Tou aaw 'mV All Ihnw gnealp mongers rmadrd round tha tiaarn, who now monopoliaed lha spotlight. "Whare'd you mo Vra? What did lbr leek Ilka?" "Ca'aa I aaad 'am, wid my own eyas, Klgnt at majur'a cat. Pay 'anllad wid ma 'bout was Muter Wunrt Claytoa asms back home." Aftxr MKillllrutt and Hud Bhvky had ' akd all tha fool questions they reuld think of Mr. Joan Walker employed hia vacuum pmceM to xtre-t tha continent remainder from old Nat drawing out all lha facta that hia wltnrte doalred to glva up, with plenty mora facia whkb ware not an. N'ow! 1'va got tha straight of It!" Mr. Joh congratulated hlmaelf, While Nat navr rhlrped about lha eorrel In tha graveyard nor lha flv dollar bill in Ma pocket, ha molded puhllo opinion at Walker'a emporium, and old Jh hlmaalf an nounced: "Well! tha only thing we don't know la. what did they git hint for? Must hi something big. Them Claylona never was plkora" .The conference at Walkar'a flora had be fore It only the following facta: that a Mar tnlon tenant had told another Negro who Informed Bud Hhorky that lha Prealdent of the Untied States' marshnla had rushed off with Mr. Stuart Clayton In an automobile; but tha wise Mr. Walker could give Nat no satisfaction aa to when or where Mr. Clayton had been arretted. For a guiluless and garrulous Negro tha aforesaid Nathaniel Stark at Umea knew how to button up hia Up and glva hia tongue a holiday. Thla waa ona of tha tlmee. After Josh Walker felt satisfied that ha had pumped Nat dry, all three members of tha conference watched him shuffle out of the store and go plodding along tha big road toward Bennington. " Totln' tha news to major," laughed Josh Walker. The load of the news waa heavy, and duck legged Nat proceeded northward, waddling like a flabby person, tha gist of whose inte rior Information has been removed. And not one of tha white men auspectad him of har boring a proclivity to deceive. All three of them would have testified that Uncle Nat had pulled hia freight direct for tha front atepa of Bennington House, where Major Stark was sitting. Yet the shrewd old Negro did nothing of the kind. While digesting the tattle absorbed at Walker's store, he put two and two to gether, making nineteen, and concluded that Mr. Stuart roust have got tired watting for him at the graveyard and had started toward Bennington on foot when tha government constables grabbed him. This theory tallied with the Clayton impatience and accounted for his sorrel being left behind. " I bettor git dat hoss," he thought, " befo' any mo' humbug rises up." Beneath the Inquisitive eyes of Mr. Walker Uncle Nat steered a straight course down tha middle of the big road, but no farther than the bend where a patch of briars concealed him. There he executed his famous stunt of dodge and disappear, and began a counter march under cover to the graveyard. If any body had confidentially advised Josh Walker that Nat Stark would venture alone, to the Fearne graveyard when the sun waa lesa than an hour high, tha experienced Mr. Walker would have anickered and obaerved that his informant didn't know a darn thing about niggers. As a matter of fact Uncle Nat himself would never have believed It If ' he had not been present as a witness. Buoyed up by his excitement, he failed to realize where he was going, or to get genu inely scared until It was all over. He would not have recognized himself, walking straight to the sorrel horse, mounting, and proceeding cautiously through the woods until well out of hearing of the store. Then he got nerv ous, dug his heels into the sorrel, and gal loped until he struck tha forks of tha road , which led to Marmion. " Now den. Mister Sorrel, I reckin you kin go de rest o' de way by yo' own se'f." At the forks he climbed down, secured tha bridle beneath tha stirrup leathers, and slapped the sorrel on the rump. He had seen Mr. Scurry do the same thing and knew that theJiorse would go home alone. Than Nat chuckled to himself: "Anyhow, dey won't 'rest Mister Stuart's hoss." His gallop from the graveyard' to Marmion forks did not greatly increase the distance between Nat and Bennington. With light feet and a lighter heart ha started home, for It had Just soaked Into his bushy head that he could now return without danger of being massacred by Mr. Razilly. This blessed thought failed to hit him with the Original volley of information received at Walker's store. Ha had than neglected to grasp ona big outsandlng fact namely: that in putting a certain white man behind the bars hia com pensating government had likewise let down the bars that shut a certain Negro out of Bennington. All that Nat need do was to rush with his news of Clayton's arrest and Mr. Razilly would forget everything else. Hotfoot Nat hustled while the news waa hot Where foresight fails It Is easy to review the disaster with omniscient hindsights and prophesy how It could hava been avoided. Clayton's plan of campaign waa sound enough, but his strategic key got lost when the enemy captured his courier. All of his plans were progressing smoothly up to the time when his go-between had , seated himself on the Bennington steps and remarked to Miss Barbara, " Mighty warm, ain't It?," For on the instant when Uncle Nat began diplomatic operations to deliver the note Stuart Clayton waa leaving Mar mion for the old Fearne graveyard, where ha expected a reply. Clayton and Bart Scurry were then pushing their way on foot through a thicket to where the sorrel stood hitched. The men talked earnestly, and when they reached the horse Clayton paused. " Well, Bart,M he said, with an air of relief, " we are getting to the end of this businesa The marshals will probably coma tonight They know I'm here." " They ought to know it," answered Scurry; " the fat one has asked enough questions of our tenants. Thought maybe they'd show up some time today." . "No," Clayton shook his head, "I don't look for them until after dark. Keep your eyes peeled, and don't move ten feet from that phone. This Is Monday, the 18th; that long distance call Is due today." "Think it'll come through all right?" Scurry seemed doubtful. " I think so. Tha man who la to aend It la not being watched, And, Bart take down every word. There may be important news today." ,' Never before had Bart Scurry mixed up la auch a mrs, frankly, ha didn't Ilka It. Kurly arid big fa.4 aa ha waa and flfty-cne yrara old, Ihe notion of dnrialng about under cover made him Mrvoue, Vor nineteen yara ha had mamaied lha Marmion pUinlittlon with honoety and stifvea, but managed II In th eppn, where averv man might arrutinlse every Irammrlinn, Although devotedly loyal to lha Claylona, 8'urry hated thla mtetinua homecoming, with all Ita aubterfunea. and ' tha uneaalnraa thai followed. Yet, no matter what hia private felng miisht ha, he would carry out ordera lo the vet y letter. Now ha leaned against a sapling and listened, . "Bart," lha younger man guthered up his bridle, I'm rldlnt toward tha old Kcarne graveyard and shall return In perhaia an hour by tha lake read. H-nd a man In the forka If you think It a dangeroua for ma 10 coma home." Aa lha boea waa about to rid Scurry alopped him and offered a blue barreled forty four, butt first. " Tou forgot thin," he sold. " I meant lo leave It" " Taln't no way to tell what might coma up? I'm afraid." " No. Bart," Clayton pushed back the weap on. " If I ahould run sitohs tha marnhals they'll only be doing their duty, and I couldn't run Ilia risk of killing one." "That'e eo," Hurt admitted: "but I'd hate to aee 'em get ou. Better lemma go with you." " Thanks, old man." The horaeman leanod down and grasped his managcr'a hand., " I've got to chance thla alone. So long." When Stuart Clayton declined tha pistol and rode away unarmed, It waa not of federal officers that he was thinking, but of another man, a husband, who must In no event be harmed. Matters were atlll progressing without a hitch. At the minute when old Nat at Ben nington aeemed Just on tbo brink of perauad lng Mra. Razilly to come and aelect her pup young Clayton turned hia back upon Scurry and rode away from Marmion, leaving hia manager In the underbrush. Lake Marmion is one of those abandoned coils which the Mississippi river casts aside in Us contortions through tha valley. Placid water reflects the mossy beards of many a cypress, gives back the greenery of cane- brakes, and duplicates, star for star, tha bril liant southern nights. For a mile Clayton followed a road which skirts the lake, then branches southward toward Vicksburg, while ita northern fork turns to the left and runs ' on past Bennington. Here he took the north ern fork, then thought It wiser to leave tha highway and reach hia objective by footpaths through the woods. This proved a simple matter. Nobody had seen him coming, and few stragglers ever ventured near the ill reputed burying ground. He dismounted, hitched his sorrel, and sat on a fallen tombstone waiting for old Nat In the vicissitudes of his active life young Clayton had accomplished a variety of things, and many of them were exceedingly well dona But sitting and waiting waa not head lined upon his catalogue of virtues. Even during a few rare Interludes of tranquillity he found himself unable to lounge at ease while his plans developed. Now he had scarcely sat down before he sprang up, and reseated himself only to rise again. He strode to the north wall, he gazed toward Bennington; he whirled to the south wall, glanced in that direction, and strode back. It was a solemn place to sit and think, among tha eternal shadows, side by aids with moldering monuments of death. And Clayton thought most solemnly of his motive for seeing Adelaide; he must right himself and set his honor clear. Both these ladles, especially Miss Stark, must understand that ha thought of Adelaide as being free. Nor could he permit MaJ. Stark to imagine that a , Clayton had pressed attentions upon a mar ried guest beneath the roof at Bennington. ; Much evil might be gossiped of him when ha 1 was gone, but this hideous thing should never be said. If he failed to see Adelaide then ha would tell Miss Stark. Meanwhile, where was old Nat? Why had he not come? Clayton got up and listened; then ha sat down again and looked at his watch two minutets and eleven seconds had passed. Human nature could endura it no longer. Even tha most patient of Claytons, whose sweetheart had Just told him that sha was married, could not sit forever on a tomb stone waiting for a lazy Negro to turn up. This particular Clayton never waited for things to turn up; he always snatched a spade and began digging. His next recon nolssance carried him beyond the north wall and out to the roadside along which ha ex pected Uncle Nat. The Negro was not la sight He must be coming Just around tha bend, so Clayton ventured farther to meet him taking care to meet no one else. In the dusky stretoh of highway which ha could now see there appeared no duck legged patriarch, and Clayton chanced it to tha next bend. Then he kept adventuring and chancing, going nearer and nearer to Ben nington. His recollections of Bennington house were chlldllshly vivid to Stuart Clayton. During his long exile In Central America there was never a time when the homesick boy could not shut both eyes and see all things as thay used to be, the roadway, the bayou winding through a pasture, the clumpy hedge of Cherokee roses, and tha smooth cut lawn which lay beyond; the broad steps, the whlta pillars, the expanse of gallery. Among thasa familiar surroundings ha might easily hava found his way In the dark. By going through the pasture on his left and following a bayou he would coma out behind the Cherokee hedge at the south aide of the house; and he chose this route for his approach. He climbed tha fenoe and kept behind the hedge, precisely as old Nat had done at the agile beginning of his departure;' except that Clayton traveled In tha opposite direction and stopped where Nat had started, at the broken panel in the fence. A faint trail, worn by Nat and the dogs, had led him there. Here he could see a part of the front gallery, and if the devil had laid a trap to snare a lover It eould not have been mors craftily set. In the house and about tha grounds nobody stirred; he saw no ona ex cept Dr. Humphreys on the gallery, placidly smoking his pipe. As he approached under cover of the hedge Clayton did not observe Mrs. Razilly. After her stormy Interview with Florlan tha flut tered creole had come out into the open, in plain view, where no ridiculous husband could raise another scene. That's how it happened that she now sat beneath an arbor of wistaria In the narrow side yard between hedge and house, while Razilly fed his grouch by peering through a lace curtain at the par lor window, and glowering upon his wtfa tContoiud N?st .-iunday.) Cop, right, i'-'i.