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Show I OLE) ISILAMO By ETHEL HUESTON Copyright 1927 by Tlic Bobbs -Merrill Co. WNU Service. STCRY FROM THE START On t tic verne of nervous collapse, col-lapse, due 10 overwork, v..y le-lune, le-lune, successful New York nrtlsi, seeks rest til Idle Island. Hlie rents coliilKC, (lie "Lone Pine." from nn Island character, the "Captain," and Ills sister. Alice Anilovcr, "administrator." Gay llnOa the cottage Is tenamed hy nn elderly lady, "Auntnlinlry." who consents to move to another an-other abode, the "Apple Tree." Awaking from sleep, tiny iinnK-ines iinnK-ines she sees the face of n Chinaman China-man peering In the window She settles down In her new home ' anticipating months of well-earned well-earned rest and recuperation. On an exploration of the Island Clay, standing on the seashore. Is horrified hor-rified by the appearance of the drifting body of a drowned man. which she nerves herself to bring to the shcre. A bullet 'wound In the temple shows the man to have been murdered. Gay makes her way to the "Captain" wl:h the siory neturn'nT with him to the shore they find no body there, and Clay's story of the Incident ts sej down to an I attack of "nerves." J down that haul anil painful path on purpose lo receive II the pool body swept to my very feet. It seems to inn me his avenger, don'l you see 7 I dare sny you think me very childish but 1 feel thai this has been soul straight to ine, and I cannot evade II. I am sorry. Km I musi do li myself." my-self." Suddenly they, had cleared the for esl and stood on die brow ol the hill The I.one Pine was directly al hand "This Is my cottage," she snld "Just cross right down the nlope to the lane and follow It down to (ho pier. 1 am sorry nboul the drawing, hut you see how It Is." "Oh. you are quite right, ol course. It has been very fascinating meeting you like this. I wish there was some place we could go for lea " "There Is a place. There are lots of places. The Island Is full of t en ISut I shan't go, thanks. Marching nil to lea with a Perfect Si ranger In the flood Little Island would be even more damning than the discovery ol a nonexistent corpse. Kven worse. I think, than living alone, which seems the very leighl of depravity here. II I .'r . uuu ..jk p.n ft j i j $ '. from habit, without thinking, tleaveis knows I had other things on my mind." She sat down at once to her desk. It was her plan to go to the city on the first boat, to relieve herself of all responsibility In the matter. And then, suddenly, she decided that she would not go at all, but write Instead. She would describe the entire Incident Inci-dent to the last detail, enclose her sketch, and that would be an end of It. ' She reached Into the drawer and pulled out paper, envelopes and her sketching pad. To measure for the size of envelope, she opened tbe pad to remove the drawing. The page that met her eyes was virginal and white, no pencil line to mar Its purity. Gay turned the pad about In her hand, studying It slowly, and then she turned every page, one after the other, oth-er, and examined every one. The page had been neatly extracted from the book, and her penciled sketch of the scene In the cove was not there. Its disappearance settled the affair of the Little Club cove as far as Gay was concerned. With nothing to substantiate sub-stantiate her seemingly wild story, she felt the less said of It the better. Gay knew, however, that she was the subject of endless discussion, endless neighborhood wit, In her absence, and for a few days she confined herself as largely as possible to the seclusion of her cottage. One afternoon, perhaps a week after her discovery and betrayal In the cove, tiring suddenly of her work, she shoved the easel Into the corner and decided to clean house. Hastily she bundled her slim knickered figure Into a great bungalow apron that made a fat and stodgy housewife of her, twisted a bright silken scarf tur-banwise tur-banwise about her small head and fell to work. She dusted, she swept, she rearranged. With brush and pan In hand, the was on her knees at the fireplace, coughing distastefully with the dust of ashes as she cleared out the cinders of last night's driftwood, CHAPTER IV Continued "Is Ibis I lie quiet good little place they brag about?" she asked herself. "Where tboy come and steal dead bodies from under your very eyes?" Both teais and laughter came at the whimsical notion. Hut In spite ot hei attempt to he facetious and uncon cerned, she was highly nervous and oi'ite unstrung. A sudden clear call "Hallo there." from behind, startled her Into a frightened scream and she sprang in her feet. Quite beyond xnver of reason as she was. the call bail seemed to come from the valley of death. dancing up, she saw on the piazza of the Little club a man who leaned out over the railing and beckoned to her. He was a stranger, she knew at once, one of the summer peopie. no native sun. "1 beg your pardon." he called pleasantly, "but will you kindly show me the way down? I cannot find the path." "There is no path. There is no way down." "Hut I beg your pardon you are down, are you not?" Cay smiled up at him. "Yes. hut I slid righl down those steep rocks, and it is hard sliding, I assure you. I am coming up. I will show you the way fhr.iin.h the woods nrtrl tho limp will down the hill anil called to Antif-a Antif-a I miry. "Won'i you keep a pour timid nervous nerv-ous old maid nil niglu?" she asked pleadingly. "I don'l waul to slay alone. I've got the you know heebee Jeebees! My house Is haiinl etl. I'm afraid of gliosis, and things Ho you iblnk It was Just a gliosl. Aiinlalniiry?" Aunlalmiry gave her a Cozy chair and made her a cup of lea. That was Aunlalmlry's unfailing resource In case of nerves. "Now .drink your tea, dearie, and don't say a word about It. We'll have n nice cozy evening. Just like a party." She was evidently determined to sooilie Cay. determined to humor her keep her qniol. She pelted her. talked pleasantly of Inane and pleasant pleas-ant things. When nt last l bey made ready to retire for the night, she said Cay should have Hie solitary bed. and she herself would sleep on the coucli. "She's afraid of me, I do believe," Cay thought to herself. "She wants the room hoi ween us, In case I turn violent." Her lips twitched with amusement at the thought as she crept between the white covers. Aunlaltnirv turned out the lights, and went aboul the room from window win-dow to window raising tbe blinds. When she came to the window thai showed I he I.one I'ine at the top ol ihe hill she gave a sudden lilile ex clamnlion. "Hid you leave a lighl on?" slip asked. "No!" Willi a bound Cay was out of bed and at her side by the window, bolh staring up the hill at the cottage. cot-tage. From the wide window of Ihe living room there showed a round circle of misty light, pale, wavering and uncertain, hut a light. "It's no earthly light," Gay said moodily. "It's a ghost. I tell you. Aunlalmiry. the spirits are abroad I his night. Say what you like, queer things are going on. I feel It. I am all creepy, and oh. look ! Oh. II Is the hand ! Oh !" Her voice sank away breathlessly Watching, suddenly outlined in the misty orb of light had been the refleo Hon of a hand, reaching out, slim, shadowy and ghastly." "Ob," Cay murmured sickly, "oh. H is his hand ."' Auntalniiry was shaken. Her arm beneath Cay's hand trembled. Uul she was firm. She did not nelit.ve in ghosts. "I saw It," she said weakly "li was just the reflection of a leaf or a spray of twigs, moving in the wind l.ook. it is gone. There Is no light. I here is no hand. II was the light from a boat reflecting against Hie leaves. .lust a reflection, dearie. They often fool me." "Have it your own way," Ca.v said moodily, "('nil It a leaf if you like. I call it a hand, his hand." "I think maybe I will sleep with you." Aunlalmiry said faintly. Cay laughed then, and squeezed the Utile figure gayly as she clambered into bed beside her. "You'd rather take a chance on me turning violent, than he hy yourself when the spirits walk, wouldn't you?' she teased. "You shouldn't say such things 'Tisn't reverent." They arose early, and after a quiet breakfast Ca.v kissed Aunlalmiry thanked her and set mil for home A tin tit I mi r.v offered to go with her hut she refused, bravely smiling. "Oh. no I am not afraid now li Is daylight. Spirits are all nicely back in their snug little graves again." She went up to I he cottage, tin locked the door antl entered the room Over it lay the quiet little hush thai broods in an empty house. Hill she wiis not afraid Kven when she saw that the window shades in ihe living room were lowered to the bottom, she was nol afraid. "1 didn't pull them down." she said, aloud, "because I went out before dark. Oh. well! l'erhnps I did H when suddenly a hand slipped beneath be-neath her chin from behind, tilting her head backward, while two firm lips pressed down on hers from above, pressed firmly, warmly, for one long breathless moment. And then a tremendous, electrifying electrify-ing silence. Gay dropped pan and brush among the ashes and stood up, very tall, very businesslike even with Ihe huge apron hulkily enveloping her, deeply outraged. The man who stood before her. in a silence as great, an amazement as profound as her own, was one she had never seen before, nor seen his like before, she knew al once. Travel-worn hoots be wore, travel-worn knickers. Bareheaded, his blond hair, a little tousled, showed sunburn. Rut in that first glance it was really his eyes she saw, eyes dark and gray, with little mocking mock-ing glints that shone through his amazement, gray eves beneath black lashes, thick and long, that curled upward, up-ward, veiling the gray with black. Amusement soon supplanted the astonishment as-tonishment in his face, amusement and interest. His sang frold was perfect per-fect "I'leased to meet you," he said, with a mockingly deferential Inclination Inclina-tion of the hare and sunburned head. "So It seems." Gay's voice and eyes were frigid. "Who art thou, pretty maiden, and where, may one inquire, is the revered and venerable Auntalniiry who one time made this hut her hoin ?" There was laughter, .1 his eyes now, tbe gayer for her coldness. "Oh. you wish to see Auntalniiry," she said still w'lh some stillness, selfconsciously. self-consciously. 1 bough melting surely beneath be-neath the warmth of the gray eyes. "She lives in the Apple Tree now. 1 live here. Will you sit down?" she asked very formally, and took off the great bungalow apron. The daring gray eyes explored the revelation of l.er, slim and straight in the stout shoes, the smart knickers, and Ihe silken blouse; came to rest, contentedly, on the sleek, dark, proud Utile head. , "You don't live alone, do you?" be asked with Interest. "Yes. I do." Gay's voice was curt with ihe 'efiance she felt in defense if her lone estale. "I live alone, and Descending a Few Steps to Give Her a Hand. a'n't accordin' to natur' it makes women queer. They think that's what is wrong with me, living alone." "What do they advise? An orphan for adoption, or a husband for attach ment?" "Heaven knows. But anyhow I shouldn't live alone." She laughed pleasantly. "Cood-hy. I say it wilh sorrow, for you seem almosi one of my own." He held out his hand, and Gay dropped hers in it. "Oood-hy. The best of luck to you For myself I wish no better luck than the Joy of seeing you again." "Now, now," she reproved him, smiling. smil-ing. "Don't Hatter. Consider Ihe stately pines, the rugged coast and the surging surf. Flattery doesn't go willi the Good Utile Island." "It doesn't go with you. eilher. I assure you 1 mean every word of it. Come soon, g wd luck.- Good-hy " Gay walked toward the Lone I'ine smiling. He was pleasant. li had been nice, the momentary contact wilh one of her own kind Hut the smiles died on her lips as she turned Ihe door of the Lone I'ine. The house seemed still, big, empty. Very still. The stillness was like death. Gay bought of the sea washed body with palely gleaming hands flung onl he neath the waves, and shuddered She did not look nt the drawing on the first page of her sketch book, hut Ihrust tbe pad quickly Into Ihe drawer of the desk and closed It tight. She grew increasingly III al ease as dusk descended, and on a sudden impulse, at last weni out, quickly, ran lead you direct to the landing. I go thai way. Wait for me." lie crossed from the piazza to the top of the rocky cliff and waited to iissist l'.er. descending with dilhculty few slops to give her a hand when she had gained that height. "Nice little shack," he said, tapping the corner of the Little club as they passed. "Were you sketching it?" "No, I was sketching Oh. listen!" Gay stopped short, and turned toward him eagerly. A sudden longing for sympathy, for understanding, t lie re action of one of her own kind in her emotional strain, overwhelmed hei In a lorrent of words, staring darkly into his interested eyes. Gay told him Ihe whole story: of Ihe body that bad come to her on the waves, liie wound in the temple, the fine white hands: how she had gone for help, and re turned to find it gone. "I'.y George, what a story,' he saio thoughtfully. "I suppose the tide carried car-ried II out while you were away " "Well, you see." she admitted fair ly, "the tide really couldn't. I pulled the body above the watet line. The tide didn't reacli him. That's the strangest thing ahout it." He put out his hand, deeply inter esleJ for the sketch, and she showed it eagerly, her eyes slill fixed upon his sympathetic face. "Ob, hy George, that is fine work." he said warmly "What a hand' What a face! oh, nonsense, you could never make up stub a figure, ol course you saw It. Wlial are you going 10 do willi this?" "1 shiili send it to the police department, depart-ment, I think. That boy belongs to somebody. Perhaps the police can trace him. Perhaps it will relieve some anxious hearts 1 hough a sad relief It will he." They walked on together, slowly the stranger still carrying the sketch glancing at it often wilh interested wondering eyes. "Pont you rather hale to gei mixed up In such an affaii? There will be nn inquest at least an In quiry. and you will he called as a witness and " "Oh, there will be no trouble aboui It. It Is obviously suicide " "It Is obviously murder." he corrected cor-rected gently. "Tbe poor chap mltiht have shot himself, or might have drowned himself Noi both" Cay stopped suddenly, shivering again. 'True." she said faintly. "I know it. I tried so hard not even to think of murder." Her face was while. "I wish you would give this to me,' he said persuasively. "Or sell it to me. rather, for I can see thai your pencil is your profession. I should be glad to buy it. I can make a rip ping story of it. I am In newspapei work, and 1 can do wonders wilh this I will hove it photographed. II you like, an' nd a copy to the police" Gay retched out. quickly, anil took the pad "1 cannot do thai," she said firmly. vl feel responsible for the thing. 1 feel as though I were led I likj It and I am not afraid. I know il makes women folks queer, and it's not accordin to natur'. but I do. and if it nils me. the-e's an end of it" "My esteemed female relatives wished me to sil nnd hear the report of the Island." he said thoughtfully, "and I pin thi-ni off. 1 should have wailed. I fancy they had news of vast Import." "Yes. -they did. And most of li Is about me. I know who you are." she -aid. smilingly. "You are Hand. Are von nol?" Her smile was very warm indeed in Joy of her discovery lie shivered slightly, covered the dark eyes wilh his band. "Pander. My prophetl sense says danger." he whispered "Ke- one has been saying. 'When Itand comes home, and now you have come. The hoys wauled Ihe old pier 10 make n ! I 1 1 tot swimming and 'be Island wouldn't give it to ihcia. and they said. 'When Kami nines j home, hell dynamite it. and we'll ! salvage Hie remains.' And when the i summer people wanted to teat down ! the old fi-liing shack to make a place i to launch their boats, the native- j frowned upon them, but everyhoih ! 'ait. to everybody else. 'Wail li: J Hand co!'i"s he'!! burn It dnwr ' " i (TO CON-TINTED.) j |
