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Show IB5lLlLl I 1 CHAPTER I. Tht Threshold of Adventure. The roar of State street filled tbe ears of Robert Orrue not unpleasantly. He liked Chicago, felt towards tbe western city something more than tbe tolerant, patronizing Interest' which o often characterizes the eastern e man. To hi in It was tbe hub of Americanism young, aggressive, perhaps a bit too cocksure, but ever bounding along with eyes toward tbe future. Here was the city of great teglnnlngs, tbe city of experiment-experim- ent with life; hence its Incompleteness not dissimilar to that of life Itself. Chicago lived; it was tbe pulse of the great middle west. Orme watched the procession with clear eyes. He had been strolling southward from tbe Masonic Temple, The Into the shopping district. clangor, tbe smoke and dust, the hurrying crowds, all worked into his mood. Tbe expectation of adventure was far from him. Nor was he a man who sought impressions for amusement; whatever came to him he weighed, and accepted or rejected according as it was valueless or useful. Wholesome he was; any one might infer that from his face. Doubtless, his fault lay in bis overemphasis on the purely practical; but that, after all, was a lawyer's fault, and it was counterbalanced by a sweet kindliness toward all tbe world a loveableness which made for him a friend of every chance acquaintance. It was well along in the afternoon, and shoppers were hurrying homeward. Orme noted the fresh beauty of the women and girls Chicago has reason to be proud of her daughters and his heart beat a little faster. Not that he was a man to be caught by every pretty stranger; but scarcely recognized by himself, there was a hidden spring of romance in his prache never met tical nature. Heart-free- , a woman without wondering whether she was the one. He had never found her; he did not know that he was looking for ber; yet always there was the unconscious question. A distant whistle, the clanging of gongs, tbe rapid beat of galloping i uoors nre engines were racing aown the street. Cars stopped, vehicles of "nil lrlnria nrnwriaH In Inwsnl tho nrha ' Orme paused and watched tbe fire p horses go thundering by, their smoking cnariota swaying behind them and dropping long trails of sparks. Small boys were running, men and women were stopping to gaze after the passing engines, but Orme's attention was taken by something that was happening near by, and as the grew fainter gongs and the he looked with interest to the street gen-vin- lncom-pleteness- f! 1 fa hoof-beat- s beside him. He had got as far as the corner of Madison street. The scramble to get out of the way of the engines- - had here resulted in a traffic jam. Two policemen were moving about, shouting orders for the disentanglement of the street curs and vehicles which seemed to be inextricably wedged to- R gether. Irish teamster was bellowing at his horse. The hind wheel of a smart barouche was caught in the fore wheel of a delivery wagon, and tbe driver of the delivery wagon was A burly expressing his opinion of the situation in terms which seemed to embarrass tbe elderly gentleman who sat In tbe barouche. Orrae's traveled eye through the outer edge of the disturbance, and sought its center. There in the midst of the tangle was a big black touring car. Its one occupant was a girt and such a girl! Her cloak was thrown open; her face was unveiled. Orme was thrilled when he caught tbe glory of her face the clear skin, browned by outdoor living; the demure but regular features; the eyes that seemed to transmute and reflect softly all Impressions from without Orme had never seen any one like her so nobly unconscious of self, so appealing and yet so calm. She was waiting patiently, interested in tbe clamor about her, but seemingly undisturbed by her own part in It Orme'a eyes did not leave her face. He was merely one of a crowd at the curb, unnoted by her, but when after a time, he became aware that he was staring, be felt the blood rush to his cheeks, and .be muttered: "Whal a boor I am!" And then, "But who can she be? Who can she be?" A policeman made his way to the black car. Orme saw him speak to the girl; saw ber brows knit; and be quickly threaded his way into the street. His action was barely conscious, but nothing could have stopped him at that moment. "You'll have to come to the station, miss," the policeman was saying. "But what have I done?" Her voice fawn-colore- d was broken music. "You've violated the traffic regulations, and made all this trouble, that'a what you've done." "I'm on a very Important errand," she began, "and" "I can't help that miss, you, ought to have had some one with you that knew the rules." Her eyes were perplexed, and she looked about ber as If for help. For a moment her gaze fell on Orme, who was close to the policeman's elbow. Now, Orme had a winning and disarming smile. Without hesitation, he touched the policeman on the shoulder, beamed pleasantly, and said: "Pardon me, officer, but this car was forced over by that dray." "She was on the wrong side," returned tbe policeman, after a glance which modified his first intention to take offence. "She bad no business over here." "It was either that or a collision. My wheel was scraped, as It was." She, too. was smiling now. The policeman pondered. , He liked to be called "officer;" be liked to be smiled upon; and the girl, to Judge from her manner and appearance, might well be the daughter of a man of position. "Well," he said after a moment, "be more careful another time." He turned and went back to his work among the other vehicles. covering the weakness of his surrender by a fresh display of angry The girl gave a little sigh of relief and looked at Orme. "Thank you," she said. Then be remembered that he did not know this girl. "Can I be of further service?" he asked. "No," she answered, "I think not " I; I . ill "Till pi; L1Q I ' Orme Lifted His Straw Hat From His Head. HPS But thank you Just tbe same." She beautiful girl In the car, and to hea gave him a friendly little nod and the muslo of her voice. How could be best set about to find turned to the steering gear. There was nothing for it but to go, her? She might be, like himself, a and Orme returned to tbe curb. A visitor in the city. But there was tbe moment later be saw the black car touring car. Well, she might have move slowly away, and he felt as run In from one of the suburbs. He though something sweet and fine could think of no better plan than to were going out of bis life. If only call that evening on the Walllnghams there had been some way to prolong and describe the unknown to Bessie He knew intuitively and try to get her assistance. Bessie the Incident! that this girl belonged to bis own would divine the situation, and she class. Any insignificant acquaintance would guy him unmercifully, he knew; might Introduce them to each other. but he would face even that for anAnd yet convention now thrust them other glimpse of the girl of the car. And at that moment he was startapart Sometime he might meet her. In- led by a sharp explosion. He looked deed, he determined to find out who to the street There was the black she was and make that sometime a car, bumping along with one flat tire, certainty. He would prolong his stay The girl threw on the brakes and In Chicago and search society until came to a stop. In an Instant Orme was In the he found her. No one had ever before sent such a thrill through his heart. street If be thought that she would He must find her, become ber friend, not remember him, ber first glance alBut, again he laughed to tered the assumption, for she looked perhaps down at him with a ready smile and a boor I am!" "What himself, After all she was but a passing said: "You see, I do need you again, stranger, and the pleasant reverie Into after all." As for Orme, he could think of which his glimpse of her bad led him was only a reverie. The memory of nothing better to say than simply: "I her beauty and elusive charm would am glad." With that be began to undisappear; his vivid Impression of her fasten the spare tire. "I shall watch you with Interest," would be effaced. But even while he thought this he found himself again she went on. "I know how to run a wondering who she was and how he car though you mljht not think It could find her. He could not drive but I don't know how to repair one." "That's a man's Job, anyway," said ber from his mind. Meantime he had proceeded slowly Orme, busy now with tbe jack, which on bis way. Suddenly a benevolent was slowly raising the wheel from d man halted him, with the pavement "Shall I get out?" she asked. "Does a deprecating gesture. "Excuse me, my weight make any difference?" "but he your began, sir," "Not at all," said Orme; but neverOrme lifted his straw, hat from his head. A glance showed him that It theless, she descended to the street was disfigured by a great blotch of and stood beside him while he worked. black grease. He bad beld his hat In "I didn't know there were all those his band while talking to tbe girl, funny things Inside," she mused. Orme laughed. Her comment was and it must have touched her car at a point where the axle of the dray vague, but to blm It was enough Just had rubbed. So this was bis one me- to hear her voice. He had got the wheel clear of the street and was mento of the Incident. He thanked the stranger, and walked taking off the burst tire. "We seem fated to meet," she said. to a near-bhatter's, where a ready Orme looked up at her. "I hope you clerk set before him hats of all styles. He selected one quickly and left his won't think me a cad," he said, "if I soiled hat to be cleaned and sent say that I hope we may meet many times." home later. r Her little frown warned him that bill in payment, Offering a r bill she had misunderstood. he received In change a "Do you happen to know tbe Tom and a silver dollar. He gave the coin a second glance. It was tbe first sil- Walllnghams?" he asked. Her smile returned. "I know a ver dollar that he had handled for some time, for he seldom visited the Tom Wallingham and a Bessie white-bearde- hat" y ten-dolla- five-dolla- Wall-Ingham- ." west "There's no charge for the cleaning," said tbe clerk, noting down Orme's name and address, and handing the soiled hat to tbe cash boy. Orme, meantime, was on the point bill to put it of folding the into his pocket book. Suddenly he looked at it Intently. Written in Ink across the face of it, were the woros: "Remember Person You Pay This To." The writing was apparently a hurried scrawl, but the letters were large and quite legible. They appeared to have been written on an uneven surface, for there were several Jogs and breaks in the writing, as if the pen had slipped. "This is curious," remarked Orme. The clerk blinked his watery eyes and looked at the bill in Qrme's hand. "Oh, yes, sir," he explained. "I remember that. The gentleman who paid It in this morning called our attention to it." "If he's the man who wrote this, he probably doesn't know that there's a law against defacing money." "But It's perfectly good, Isn't It?" inquired the clerk. "If you want another instead " "Oh, no," laughed Orme. " The banks would take it" "But, sir " began the clerk. "I should like to keep it If I can't get rid of it, I'll bring it back. It's a hoax or an endless chain device or something of the sort. I'd like to find cut." He looked again at the writing. Puzzles and problems always interested him, especially if they seemed to involve some human story. "Very well," said the clerk, "I'll re" he member that you have It, Mr peered at the name he had set down "Mr. Orme." Leaving the hatters's, Orme turned back on State street, retracing his steps. It was close to the dinner hour, and the character of the street crowds had changed. The shoppers had disappeared. Suburbanites were by this time aboard their trains and homeward bound. The street was thronged with hurrying clerks and shop girls, and the cars were jammed with thousands more, all of them thinking, no doubt, of the same two things something to eat and relaxation. What a hive it was, this greut street! And how scant the lives of the great majority! Working, eating, sleeping, marrying and given In marriage, bearing children and dying-- was that all? "But growing, too," said Orme to himself. "Growing, too." Would this be the sum of his own life that of a worker in the hive? It came to him with something of an inner pang that thus far his scheme of things had included little more. He wondered why lie was now recognizing this scantiness, this lack in his life. He came out of his reverie to find himself again at the Madison street corner. Again be seemed to tee that five-doll- "They're good friends of mine. Don't you think that they might Introduce us?" "They might," she vouchsafed, "if they happened to see us both at the same time." Orme returned to his task. The crowd that always gathers was now close about them, and there was little opportunity for talk. He finished his job neatly, and stowed away tbe old tire. She was in the car before he could offer to help her. "Thank you again," she said. "If only you will let me arrange it with the Walllnghams." he faltered. "I will think about it" She smiled. He felt that she was slipping away. "Give me some clue," he begged. "Where is your spirit of romance?" she railed at him; then apparently relenting: "Perhaps the next time we meet" Orme groaned. With a little nod like that which had dismissed him at the time of his first service to ber, she pulled the lever and the car moved away. Tumult in his breast, Orme walked on. He watched the black car thread Its way down tbe street and disappear around a corner. Then be gave himself over to his own bewildering reflections, and he was still busy with them when be found himself at the entrance of the Pere Marquette. He had crossed the Rush street bridge and found his way up to the Inke Shore drive almost without realizing whither he was going. Orme had come to Chicago at the request of eastern clients to meet half way the owners of a western mining property. When he registered at tho Annex he found awaiting him a telegram saying that they bad been detained at Denver and must necessarily be two days late. Besides the telegram, there had been a letter for him a letter from bis friend, Jack Baxter, to whom he had written of his coming. Jack had left the city on business, it appeared, but he urged Orme to make free of his North side apartment. So Orme left the Annex and went to the rather too gorgeous, but very luxurious, Pere Marquette, where he found that the staff had been Instructed to keep a close eye All this had hapon his comfort. pened but three short hours ago. lAfter getting back to the apartment, Orme's first thought was to telephone He decided, to Bessie Wallingham. however, to wait till after dinner. He did not like to appear too eager. So be went down to the public dining room and ate what was placed before him, and returned to his apartment just at dusk. In a few moments he got Bessie Wallingham on the wire. Orme!" she ex"Why, Robert claimed. "Wherever did you come from?" "The usual place. Are you and Tom at home this evening?" r r y y IzizimtAttoxr my RAY WAUER--T "I'm so sorry. We're going out with some new friends. Wish I knew them well enough to ank you along. Can you have some golf with us at Arra dale tomorrow afternoon?" "Delighted! Say, Bessie, do you know a girl who runs a black touring car?" "What?" "Do you know a tall, dark girl who bas a black touring car?" "I know lots of tall, dark girls, and several of them have black touring cars. Why?" "Who are they?" There was a pause and a little chuckle; then: "Now, Bob, that won't do. You must tell me all about it tomorrow. Call for us in time to catch the That was all that Orme could get out of her; and after a little banter and a brief exchange of greetings with Tom, who was called to the telephone by his wife, the wire was permitted to rest Orme pushed a chair to the window of the sitting room and smoked lazily, looking out over the beautiful expanse one-four.- " of Lake Michigan, which reflected from its glassy surface the wonderful of early evening. He opalescence seemed to have Bet forth on a new and adventurous road. How strangely the girl of tbe car had come into bis life! r Then he thought of the bill, with the curious Inscription. He took It from his pocketbook and examined It by tbe fading light The words ran the full length of the face. Orme noticed that the writing bad a foreign look. There were flourishes which seemed distinctly He turned the bill over. Apparently there was no writing on the back, but as he looked more closely he saw a dark blur In the upper corner. Even In tbe dusk be could make out that this was not a spot of dirt; the edges were defined too distinctly for a smudge: and It was not black enough for an Moving to the center table, be switched on the electric lamp, and looked at tbe blur again. It stood out plainly now, a series of letters and numbers: "Evans, S. R. Cbl. A. 100 N. 210 E. T." Tbe first thought that came to Orme was that this could be no hoax. A Joker would have made the curious But cryptogram more conspicuous. what did it mean? Was it a secret formula? Did it give tbe location of a burled treasure? And why In the name of common sense bad it been bill? written on a More likely, Orme reasoned, it confor or about cealed information some person "S. R. Evans," probably. And who was this S. R. Evans? The better to study the mystery, Orme copied the Inscription on a sheet of note paper, which he found In the table drawer. From tbe first he decided that there was no cipher. The letters undoubtedly were abbreviations. 'Evans" must be, as he had already determined, a man's name. "Chi" might be, probably was, "Chicago." "100 N. 210 E." looked like "100 (feet? paces?) north, 21C (feet? paces?) east" The "A." and the "T." bothered him. "A." might be the place to which "S. R. Evans" was directed, or at which five-dolla- left-han- Ink-blo- five-doll- t. be was to be found a place sufficient ly Indicated by the letter. Now as to the "T." was It "treasure?" Or waa It "time?" Or "true?" Orme bad no way of telling. It might even be tbe initial of tbe person who bad penned the Instructions. Without knowing where "A" was, Orme could make nothing of the For that matter, be cryptogram. realized that unless the secret were criminal it was not his affair. But be knew that legitimate business Information Is seldom transmitted by such mysterious means. Again and again he went over the abbreviations, but the more closely he studied them, tbe more baffling he found them. Tbe real meaning appeared to hinge on the "A." and the "T." Eventually he was driven to tbe conclusion that those two letters could not be understood by anyone who was not already partly In tbe secret If secret It was. It occurred to blm to have the city directory sent up to him. He might then find the address of "S. R. Evans," If that per son happened to be a Chlcagoan. But it was quite likely that the "Chi." might mean something other than that "Evans" lived in Chicago. Perhaps, In the morning he would satisfy his curiosity about "S. R. Evans," but for the present he lacked the Inclination to press (he matter that far. In the midst of bis puzzling, the telephone bell rang. He crossed tbe room and put the receiver to bis ear. "Yes?" he questioned. "So-nThe clerk's Tolce answered. Porltol to see Mr. Orme." "Who?" spelled tht clerk. "I don't know him," said Orme. "There must be some mistake. Are you sure that be asked for me?" There was a pause. Orme heard a few scattering words which Indicated that the clerk was questioning the stranger. Then came the information: "He says he wishes to see you r bill." about a "Oh!" Orme realized that he bad no reason to be surprised. "Well, send him up." He bung up tbe receiver and, reor five-dolla- turning to the table, put the marked bill back Into his pocketbook and slipped Into a drawer the paper on which he had copied the Inscription. (TO BE CONTINUED.) Retort Courteous. Two men were occupying a double seat In a Crowded car. One of them was a long distance whistler and the other was evidently annoyed. "You don't seem to like my whist ling?" said the noisy one, after a continuous performance. "No, I don't," was the frank reply. "Well," continued the other, "maybe you think you are man enough to five-minu- te stop It?" "No, I don't think I am," rejoined tbe other, "but I hope you are." And the whistling was The Philosopher of Folly. "Don't marry your stenographer advises ' e Philosopher of Folly. "She belongs to the union and knows the rules and she'll never let you hire another one." Could Make Nothing of the Cryptogram. |