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Show g i ii in iiitii in inn in iiiiimiiiiiHiiiiniiiiiHiiiiiiHin mTTiTTi 1 1 1 iinmni nun iiiiiiniiirg I MTT-T"-y By George Bhrr 1 I VZTXVl ' INI McCUTCHEON j m . 111111111111111111111111117111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111 I . IV 1 if Author of "GRAUSTARK," "THE HOLLOW fl" N I I X OF HER HAND," "THE PRINCE OF GRAU- I 1 JL JL.JL. 1L bkzst Am" stark," "from the housetops," etc. 0 i n 1 1 n t 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 ii i n 1 1 n 1 1 n 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 a 1 1 1 1 n 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 e 1 1 1 n 1 1 1 ; 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 n 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 ii 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 f t i 1 1 , i 1 1 i i . . t i i ; 1 1 1 ; i ; i i 1 1 ; iTT"rfa Copyright by Docld, Mead auil Company, Inc. clouds now rolling ominously up over the mountain ridge, "By Jove, we're going to eaten it good and hard," he exclaimed, "Better lake my advice. These storms are terrible. ter-rible. I know, for I've encountered balf :i dozen of them in the past week. They fairly tear one to pieces. You ure a Blranger in these parts?" "Yes. The railway station Is a few miles below here. X have walked all the way. There was no one to meet me. You are a stranger also, so it is useless to Inquire If yon know whether this road leads to Green Fancy." "Green Fancy? Sounds attractive. I'm sorry I can't enlighten you." He drew a small electric torch from his pocket and directed its slender ray upon the signpost. "It Is on the road to Frogg's Corner," Cor-ner," she explained nervously. "A mile and a half, so I am told. It isn't on the signpost. It Is a house, not a village. vil-lage. Thank you for your kindness. And I am not at all frightened," she added, raising her voice slightly. "Hut you are," he cried. "You're seared half out of your wits. You Barnes. What's your Idear t'er footln' It this time' o1 the year?" "I do something like this every spring. A month or six weeks of it puts me in fine shape for a vacation later on," supplied Mr. Barnes whimsically. whim-sically. Mr. Jones allowed a grin to steal over his seamed face. He reinserted the corncob pipe and took a couple of pulls at It. "I never been to New York, but it must be a heavenly place for a vacation, vaca-tion, if a feller c'n judge by what some of my present boarders have to say about It. It's a sort of play actor's paradise, ain't it?" "It is paradise to every actor who happms to be on the road, Mr. Jones," said Barnes, slipping his big pack from his shoulders and letting it slide to the floor. "Hear that feller in the taproom talkin'? Well, he is one of the leading lead-ing actors in New York in the world, for that matter. He's been talkin' about Broadway for nearly a week now, steady." "May I inquire what he is doing up here in the wilds?" "At present he ain't doing anything except talk. Last week be was treddln' the boards, as he puts it himself. Busted. Bust-ed. Up the flue. Showed last Saturday Satur-day night in Hornville, eighteen mile ' north of here, and immegiately after the performance him and his whole troupe started to walk back to New York, a good four hundred mile. They started out the back way of the opery house and nobody missed 'em till next mornin' except the sheriff, and he didn't miss 'em till they'd got over the county line into our bailiwick. Four of 'em are still stoppin' here just because I ain't got the heart to turn 'em out ner the spare money to buy 'em tickets to New York. Here comes one of 'em now. Mr. Dilling-ford, Dilling-ford, will you show this gentleman to room eleven and carry his baggage up fer him? And maybe he'll want a pitcher warm water to wash and shave in." He turned to the new guest and smiled apologetically. "We're a little short o' help just now, Mr. Barnes, and Mr. Diilingford has kindly kind-ly consented to " "My word!" gasped Mr. Diilingford, staring at the register. "Someone from little old New York? My word, sir, you Won't you have a er little something to drink with me be- . fore you " "He wants something to eat," interrupted inter-rupted Mr. Jones sharply. "Tell Mr. Bacon to step up to his room and take the order." "All right, old chap nothing easier," said Mr. Diilingford genially. "Just climb up the elevator, Mr. Barnes. We do this to get up an appetite. When did you leave New York?" Taking up a lighted kerosene lamp and the heavy pack, Mr. Clarence Diilingford Dii-lingford led the way up the stairs. He was a chubby individual of indefinite indefi-nite age. At a glance you would have said he was under twenty-one ; a second sec-ond look would have convinced you that be was nearer forty-one. Depositing Barnes' pack on a chair in the little bedroom at the end of the hall upstairs he favored the guest with a perfectly unabashed grin. "I'm not doing this to oblige old man Jones, you know. I won't attempt to deceive you. I'm working out a daily board bill. Chuck three times-a day and a bed to sleep in that's what I'm doing it for, so don't get it into your head that I applied for the job. Let me look at you. I want to get a good square peep at a man who has the means to go somewhere and yet is boob enough to come to this gosh-awful gosh-awful place of his own free will and accord. Darn it, you look intelligent. I don't get you at all. What's the matter? mat-ter? Are you a fugitive from justice?" Barnes find the theatrical people entertaining, but as the storm rages does a good deal of thinking about the mysterious girl bound for Green Fancy. (TO BE CONTINUED.) GIRL OF MYSTERY! HOUSE OF MYSTERY! An American story of love and patriotism, of plot and counterplot, that enthralls the reader and keeps him guessing. CHAPTER I. The First Wayfarer and the Second Wayfarer Meet and Part on the Highway. A solitary figure trudged along the narrow road thai wound its serpen-tlnous serpen-tlnous way through the dismal, forbidding forbid-ding depths of the forest a man who, though weary and footsore, lagged not In his swift, resolute advance. Night was coming on, and with il the no uncertain un-certain prospects of a storm. He came to the "pike" and there was a signpost. A huge, crudely painted paint-ed hand pointed to the left, and on what was intended to be the sleeve of a very stiff and unflinching arm these words were printed in scaly while: "Hart's Tavern. Food for Man and Beast. Also Gasoline. Established 1798. 1 Mill'." On the opposite side of the "pike," in the angle formed by a junction with the narrow mountain road, siood an humbler signpost, lettered so indistinctly indis-tinctly that it deserved the compassion compas-sion of all .observers because of its humility. Swerving in his hurried passage, pas-sage, the tall stranger drew near this shrinking friend to the uncertain traveler, trav-eler, and was suddenly aware of another an-other presence in the roadway. A woman appeared, as if from nowhere, no-where, almost at his side. He drew hack to let her pass. She stopped before be-fore the Utile signpost, and together they made out the faint directions. To the right and up the mountain road Frogg's Corner lav four miles and a half away; Pitcairn was six miles back over the road which the man had traveled. Two miles and a half down the turnpike was Spanish Falls, a railway rail-way station, and four miles above the crossroads where the man and women stood peering through the darkness at the laconic signpost reposed the village vil-lage of St. Elizabeth. Hart's Tavern was on the road to St. Elizabeth, and the. man, with barely a glance at his fellow traveler, started briskly off in that direction. He knew that these wild mountain storms moved swiftly ; his chance of reaching the tavern ahead of the deluge del-uge was exceedingly slim. His long, powerful legs had carried him twenty or thirty paces before he came to a sudden halt. What of this lone woman who traversed trav-ersed the highway? His first glimpse of her had been extremely casual indeed, he had paid no attention lo her at all, so eager was he to read the directions and be on his way. She was standing quite still in front of the signpost, peering up the road toward Frogg's Corner confronted by a steep climb that led into black and sinister timberlands above the narrow-strip narrow-strip of pasture bordering the pike. The fierce wind pinned her skirts to her slender body as she leaned against the gale, gripping her hat tightly with one hand and straining under the weight of the bag in the other. The ends of a veil whipped furiously about her head, and, even in the gathering darkness, he could see a strand or two of hair keeping them company. Retracing his steps, he called out to her above the gale : ' "Can I be of any assistance to you?" She turned quickly. He saw that the veil was drawn tightly over her face. "No, thank you," she replied. Her voice, despite a certain nervous note, was soft and clear and gentle the voice and speech of a well-bred person per-son who was young and resolute. "Pardon me, but have you much' farther far-ther to go? The storm will soon be upon us, and surely you will not consider con-sider me presumptuous I don't like the idea of your being caught out In " "What is to be done about it?" she inquired, resignedly. "I must go on. I can't wait here, you know, to be washed back to the place I started from." He smiled. She had wit as well as determination. "If I can be of the least .assistance to you pray don't hesitate to command me I am a sort of tramp, you might say. and I travel as well by night as I do by day so don't feel that you are putting me to any inconvenience. Are you by any chance bound for Hart's Tavern? If so, I will be glad to lag behind and carry your bag." "You are verty good, but I am not bound for Hart's Tavern, wherever that may be. Thank you, just the same. You appear to be an uncommonly uncom-monly genteel tramp, and it isn't because be-cause I am afraid you might make off with my belongings." She added the last by sjny ?f apology. He smiled and then frowned as he c31 an uneasy look at the black I he car around "And be quick about It," she added. Tin' firs I drops of rain pelted down from the now thoroughly black dome above them, striking in the road With the sharpness of pebbles. "Lucky it's a limousine," said the lad traveler, "Better bop in. We'll be getting It hard in a second or two." "You must, let me take you on to the Tavern In the car," she said. "Turn about, is fair play. I cannot allow you to" "Never mind about me," he broke In cheerily. He had been wondering if she would make the offer, and he felt better now that she had done so. "I'm accustomed to roughing it. I don't mind a soaking. I've had hundred of 'em." "Just the same you shall not have one tonight," she announced firmly. "Get in behind. I shall sit with the driver." If anyone had told him that this rattling, dilapidated automobile ten years old, at the very least, he would have sworn was capable of covering the mile in less than two minutes he would have laughed in his face. Almost Al-most before he realized that they were on the way up the straight, dark road the lights in the windows of Hart's Tavern came into view. Once more i be bounding, swaying car came to a stop under brakes, and he was relaxing relax-ing after the strain of the most hair-raising hair-raising ride he had ever experienced. Not a word had been spoken during dur-ing the trip. The front windows were lowered. The driver an old, hatchet-faced hatchet-faced man had uttered a single word Just before throwing in the clutch at the .crossroads in response to the young woman's crisp command to drive to Hart's Tavern. That word' was uttered under his breath and it is not necessary to repeat it here. TJie wayfarer lost no time in climbing climb-ing out of the-car. As he leaped to the ground and raised his green hat he took a second look at the automobile a look of mingled wonder and respect. It was an old-fashioned, high-powered car, capable, despite its antiquity, of astonishing speed in any sort of going. go-ing. "For heaven's sake." he began, shouting to her above the roar of the wind and rain, "don't let him drive like that over those " "You're getting wet," she cried out, a thrill in her voice. "Good night and thank you !" "Look out !" rasped the unpleasant driver, and in went the clutch. The man in the road jumped hastily to one side as the car shot backward with a jerk, curved sharply, stopped for the fraction of a second, and then bounded forward again, headed for the crossroads. cross-roads. "Thanks !" shouted the late passenger passen-ger after the receding tail light, and dashed up the steps to the porch that ran the full length of Hart's Tavern. A huge old-fashioned lantern hung above the portal, creaking and straining strain-ing in the wind, dragging at its stout supports and threatening every instant in-stant to break loose and go frolicking away with the storm. He lifted the latch and, being a tall man, involuntarily stooped as he passed through the door, a needless precaution, for gaunt, gigantic mountaineers moun-taineers had entered there before him and without bending their arrogant beads. CHAPTER II. The First Wayfarer Lays His Pack Aside and Falls in With Friends The little hall in which he found himself was the "office" through which all men must pass who come as guests to Hart's Tavern. A steep, angular staircase took up one end of the room. Set in beneath its upper turn was the counter over which the business of the house was transacted, and behind this a man was engaged In the peaceful occupation of smoking a corncob pipe. An open door to the right of the stairway gave entrance to a room from which came the sound of a deep, sonorous sono-rous voice employed In what turned out to be a conversational solo. To the left another door led to what was evidently the dining room. The glance that the stranger sent in that direction revealed two or three tables covered with white cloths. "Can you put me up for the night?" he inquired, advancing to the counter. "You look like a feller who'd want a room with bath," drawled the man behind the counter, surveying Lne applicant ap-plicant from head to foot. "Which we ain't got," he added. "I'll be satisfied to have a room with a bed." said the other. "Sign here," was the laconic response. re-sponse. "Can I have supper?'.' "Food for man and beast," said the other patiently. He slapped his palm upon a cracked call bell and then looked at the fresh name on the page. "Thomas K. Barnes, New York," he I read aloud. He eyed the newcomer once more. "My name is Jones Put- nam Jones. I run this place. My father fa-ther an' grandfather run it before me. Glad to meet you, Mr. Barnes. We used to have a hostler here named He Drew a Small Electric Torch From His Pocket and Directed Its Slender Ray Upon the Sign Post. can't fool me. I'd be scared myself at the thought of venturing into those woods up yonder." "Well, then, I am frightened," she confessed plaintively. "Almost out of my boots." "That settles it." he said flatly. "You shall not undertake it" "Oh, but I must. I am expected. It is import " "If you are expected why didn't someone meet you at the . station? Seems to me " "Hark ! Do you hear doesn't that sound like an automobile ah !" The hoarse honk of an automohile horn rose above the howling wind, and an instant later two faint lights came rushing toward them around a bend in the mountain road. "Better late than never," she cried, her voice vibrant once more. He grasped her arm and jerked her out of the path of the oncoming machine, ma-chine, whose driver was sending it along at a mad rate, regardless of ruts and stones and curves. The car careened ca-reened as it swung into the pike, skidded skid-ded alarmingly, and then the brakes were jammed down. Attended by a vast grinding of gears and wheels, the rattling old car came to a stop fifty feet or more beyond them. -"I'd sooner walk than take my chances in an antediluvian rattletrap like that," said the tail wayfarer, bending quite close to her ear. "It will fall to pieces before you " But she was running down the road inward the car, calling out sharply to the driver. He stooped over and took up the traveling bag she had dropped in her haste and excitement. Itwas heavy, amazingly heavy. "I shouldn't like to carry that a mile and a half," he said to himself. The voice of the belated driver came to his cars on the swift wind. It was high-pitched and unmistakably apologetic. apolo-getic. He could not hear what she was saying to him, but there wasn't much doubt as to the nature of her remarks. She was roundly upbraiding him. Urged to action by thoughts of his own plight he hurried to her side and said : "Excuse me, please. You dropped something. Shall I put it up in front or in the tonneau?" The whimsical note in his voice brought a quick, responsive laugh from her lips. "Thank you so much. I am frightfully fright-fully careless with my valuables. Would you mind putting it in behind? Thanks I" Her tone altered completely complete-ly as she ordered the man to turn |