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Show Hyacinth Goes to Call on an Old Man In His Shop on at)eserted Street "Ah." he said, "very Interesting. You put the ferret in there. Ferret Fer-ret runs down the burrow like that Rabbit hears him, knows of a better little bolt hole and bolts for it. That's the moment You shoot him then." "Really?" said Hyacinth. Bob Cheaveley opened the door for her. The only thing Is," he said, "ti know how to wait." The snow was whirling down. The darkness of the winter evening eve-ning was thick and blind. Even with a torch one couldn't see more than a foot or two, but Tony didn't need to see far. She knew each step of the way, each roughness rough-ness of the ground that lay under the blanket of snow. She felt happy "really happy," she said to herself. So much, she thought had friendship done for her. The fury of the wind and snow (Contlnutd on Uw FoUowlnr Paw) I the place gradually. I've got a friend coming to stay. I thought I ought to smarten things a bit." Hyacinth laughed. His voice went on, doubly quiet after that laugh. "I'm a solitary chap, and I'm getting tired of It. But I shan't change my ways much." Hyacinth sat down on the rickety rick-ety arm of a chair. Hands In pockets, she gazed up Into his face, a hard smile on her own. And, his elbow on the chimney-piece. chimney-piece. Bob Cheaveley looked down at her as If she were acting In some sketch whose lines he knew. "Well, Hyacinth, the securities?" securi-ties?" She had meant to play him a little longer. Instead, she jerked the packet of notes from her pocket and flung It down on the table. "Ah!" He picked It up. One by one he counted the notes. "Clever girl," he said. 'So you found the money after all?" Yes. And your game's finished, blackmailer." He took no notice of the word. "And how did you get the money?" he asked amiably. "Mother came forward, of course. Did you think she'd let me be dunned by a crooked cad?" She rose. "Won't you thank me," he asked, "for financing you all this time? You don't know your lurk In dealing deal-ing with a gentleman." "Gentleman!" "Yes, Hyacinth." He did not touch her. He put out his arm and she could not pass. "You have your own free will, as your car outside there, proves. My housekeeper is in bed. She's stone deaf. You have called me a crook. Shall I behave as one now?" She glanced up. In a mirror she caught a sideways smiling view of him. She felt as if the solid ground shifted under her feet "No, no. Don't be frightened," he said. "You can go." At the door he slipped his arm through hers. He pointed at a print on the wall. "Look at that" he said. She looked. The print was called "Ferreting." "Have you ever watched that sport?" he asked. i She shook her head. She thought "He has been drinking"; and her courage, lost for a moment mo-ment returned with her contempt Telegram Serial: Tony CHAPTER 17 A narrow, not much frequented little street The shop, too, was narrow, and one could not imagine that it was often visited. The Jewels, glittering In the small window, win-dow, protected by bars and steel netting, were too wonderful for that. Hyacinth, quiet and exultant stood at the old corner. A man, colorless, silver-haired he might have been as old as the counter-slipped counter-slipped the notes onto the dark wood across which so many hundred hun-dred thousand pounds had in a century changed hands. "And that I think. Is correct, Madam." Thank you." Hyacinth smiled. But the smile really was for herself. her-self. She had done well, and even in little things. She had thought specially of bringing a large vanity van-ity bag, something that had a handle and could hold safely the packet of notes. And which could hold also the larger packet that Mr. Ortreum was handing her now. "Beautiful copies. Madam. We have never made better ones. No one will know that they are not real." "One day soon I shall come back. And you must make me up the real Jewels again." "Of course. Madam. Exactly the same as the originals." The old Jeweler did not smile though. To how many women had he said that? And how many had come bark? One two in 60 years. Hyacinth walked down the street to her car. On her face was a happy smile, carefree; it added to her beauty. Now with her troubles trou-bles over she could have pirouetted pirouet-ted down the street. "Hyacinth Raften." "Lady Raften" . . . "Coming events cast their shsdows before." And had not various moments mo-ments with Philip Raften at the Hunt ball been "shadows cast?" Yes, she thought so. . She opened the door of her car and put the precious bag on the floor. She started the engine. She hummed a little tune. And she did not see what she was not Intended In-tended to see; the little furtive tout in the blue raincoat who leaned against the entrance to an arcade and surveyed her and her bag and her car. "Good evnlng," Major Cheaveley Cheave-ley had opened the door himself. He looked down at Hyacinth as she stood on his doorstep. "At the eleventh hour? You will lose your reputation, coming to Fallows Fal-lows so late." "I shall not come again," Hyacinth Hya-cinth replied. "Come in," he said. They entered the sitting room. It was a little changed. Some attempt at-tempt had been made to tidy It The wallpaper was patched where before It had sagged, and the new paper stood out In startling brightness bright-ness against the older, faded colors. col-ors. The ceiling, which had been dark with lamp black, was newly whitewashed. "You have been brightening things up," Hyacinth said. But somehow, she thought the attmpts at Improvemnt had not succeedd. The room gave her the same sensation sensa-tion as on her last visit though this time she came In triumph. "Yes." Bob Cheaveley was answering an-swering her. "We're Improving Telegram Serial, Tony' (Continual From Prtredlns Pas) ceased abruptly, cut off by the mass of the house as it rose before be-fore her. She stumbled up the snow-clad steps. Her hand was raised to the bell when suddenly the front door opened. Sir Matthew Lake stood on the threshold. "Come in." he said. The words sounded Irritable, even angry. He took her arm and led her in as if he thought that she might wish to stay out longer In the howling weather. He slammed the door against the wind. In the sudden silence his voice was loud: "So you haven't brought your little sister this time?" he said. "You have that much sense." "It'i Jacky'! bedtime," Tony replied re-plied mildly. "And I wouldn't let her walk through this snow, anyway." any-way." "You have no business to walk through it yourself," Sir Matthew said. "It was a darned silly thing to do." ' Tony contemplated him. She liked him. He had been kind to her. Each time lately that she and Jacky, or she alone, had walked over to Holme Dacey, he had escorted her back to the gates of Oaken, either in his car or walking with her. "Oh," she told him now, "I don't mind weather." Sir Matthew looked at her at the snow melting on her little cap and on the curling ends of her short hair, at the big tweed coat that hid her slimness. "1 don't know how the devil," he grumbled, "you expect to get back. I can't take you. I've got to catch the London train." She flushed at that. "I can walk back. I don't need to be taken." And then with a little flare of temper, "I wish you wouldn't Interfere." She turned to go upstairs. "Won't you take off your wet coat?" he asked. His words were oddly stifled. She spoke quietly and clearly. "You see, I've got some apples for Alsn in the pockets, Sir Matthew. Mat-thew. I'll take off my coat upstairs." up-stairs." "Tony," he said, "don't call me "Sir Matthew'; call me 'Matt' as my friends do." "All right." But he saw the slight surprise in her eyes. "Yes," he thought, "she thinks of me as middle-aged old." And he remembered re-membered the women In many capitals who hsd shown themselves them-selves anxious for his notice. But those memories were of no comfort com-fort to him. Tony wss moving away from him, up the stairs to Alan. Ta Be Continued Tuesday. McClure Newspaper Syndicate i |