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Show r. The Girl in the Mirror By ELIZABETH JORDAN tfi fcy The Century Compiny.) WNU BerTlc out resentment, too, but coldly, as one states an unpalatable fuct. "You," she said, "are a fool." Laurie flushed, then smiled. "That Is not a new theory," he admitted. ad-mitted. "Two hours ago," she said, "I warned you that It would be dangerous danger-ous for you to Interfere In my affairs. Did I not?" "You did." "I warn you again. It may be a matter of life or death. Put your watch in your pocket, pay your bill, and take me home. Then go away and forget me." Laurie glanced at the watch. "We have used up eight minutes since I gave you your choice," he reminded re-minded her. "You are like a child," she muttered, mut-tered, "spinning his top over a powder magazine." Laurie frowned a little. "Too melodramatic," he murmured. "I tell you," she said fiercely, "you are acting like a fool ! If you interfere inter-fere with me you will be drawn Into all sorts of trouble, perhaps Into tragedy, perhaps even Into disgrace." "You're forgetting the net," be reminded re-minded her, "the nice net you mentioned men-tioned this morning, with room for two. Also " again he looked at the watch "you're overlooking the value E "I hate you !" she said between ber teeth. He shook his head at her. "Oh, do, you don't!" he said kindly. "But I see plainly that you're a self-willed young person. Association with me, and the study of my poise, will do a lot for you. By the way, you have only thirty seconds left." "Do you want to be kllle'd?" She hissed the words at him. "Good gracious, no I" Laurie spoke absently, his eyes on the watch. "Twenty seconds," he ended. "Do you want to be maimed or crippled, crip-pled, or or kidnaped?"' He looked up In surprise. "I don't know why you imagine I have such lurid taste," he said, discontentedly. dis-contentedly. "Of course I don't want any of those things. My nature is a quiet one, and already I'm dreading the excitement of taking you to the station. But now I must' ask you to put on your gloves and button up your coat for our little journey." "The Journey you take with me," she said, with deep meaning, "may be a long and hard one." He stood up. "I wouldn't miss It for the world," he told her. "But we'll have to postpone post-pone it. Our Journey to the station comes first." She sat still, looking at him. "I know your type now," she said suddenly. "You live In your little groove, and you think that nothing happens In the world except what you see under your nose." "Something awfully unpleasant Is going to happen under my nose right now," announced her companion, disconsolately. dis-consolately. "Come along, please. It's time to start." She stood up, faced him for a second, sec-ond, and then dropped back into her chair with a gesture of finality. Her expression had changed back to the lethargy of her first moments In the restaurant, "Very well," she said. "Have It your way." She added significantly, ''This may be the last time you have your way about anything!" "You have a depressing outlook," grumbled Laurie, contentedly sitting down again. "It Isn't playing the game to spoil my triumph with such predictions as that, especially as I'm going to have my way about a lot of things right now. I have your word," he added. "Yes." "Good ! Now I'll give you my program. pro-gram. First, of all, I'm going to be a brother to you ; and I don't think," he ended thoughtfully, "that I've ever offered to be a brother to any girl before." be-fore." "You're a nice boy," she" said abruptly. ab-ruptly. He smiled at her. "A nice boy, thougli a fool. I hoped you would notice that. Y'ou'll be dazzled daz-zled by my virtues before you're through with me." He went on conversationally con-versationally : "The reason I've never offered to be a brother to any girl before be-fore Is that I've got a perfectly good sister of my own. Her one fault is that she's always bossed me. I warn you from the start of our relations that I'm going to be the boss. It will be the first time I've ever bossed anyone, any-one, and I'm looking forward to It a lot." The faintest suggestion of a smile touched her short upper lip. Above it, her red-brown eyes had softened again. She drew a deep breath. "It's strange," she said. "You've let me in for all sorts of things you don't realize. And yet, somehow, I feel, for tha time at least, as if I had been lying ly-ing under the weight of the world and some one had lifted the wretcheo thing off me." "Can't you, by a supreme effort of the imagination, fancy that I lifted it off?" suggested Laurie, mildly. Tills time she really smiled. "I can," she conceded. "And without with-out any effort at all," she added somberly, som-berly, "I can fancy us both under it again." He shook his head. A new character enters this mysterious drama. What does the girl tear? When will it strike? i I ' ' (TO BE CONTINUED.) : i Ill" "I Warn You Again. It May Be a Matter Mat-ter of Life or Death." STORY FROM THE START Laurie Devon, & ear young chap somewhat Inclined to wlld-ness, wlld-ness, has recently succeeded as a playwrlgrht. His wealthy sister sis-ter Barbara, who has helped htm to succeed, has Just, been married mar-ried and Is eoltiff to Japan, leaving leav-ing Laurie on his own. Epstein and Bangs, his theatrical partners, part-ners, have promised Barbara to keep an eye on Laurie. They scold him for his laziness of late, and he retorts that he seeks adventure. ad-venture. From his window" In New York he sees the reflection of a beautiful girl In a mirror in the house opposite. From the elevator boy in the girl's house Laurie learns the girl's name is Mayo. Agraln in the mirror's reflection re-flection he sees her with a revolver re-volver and fears she means to commit Bulclde. He rushes into her apartment, and, winning her confidence. Induces her to lunch with him, though she warns him of danger. -. CHAPTER IV Continued 6 "When we were over In your studio." he said, "1 admitted that twice In my life I had tried to make away with myself. Only two other persons in the world know that, but I'd like to tell yon about It, if you don't mind." She looked at him. There were (trange things tn the look, things that thrilled him, and other things he sub-ronsclously sub-ronsclously resented, without under-itandlng under-itandlng why. When she spoke there aras a more personal note in her voice han It had yet held. "You?" she asked; and she added dmost lightly, "That seems absurd." "I know." Laurie spoke with the new humility humil-ity he had found only today. "You think that because I'm so young I couldn't have been desperate pnough for that. But you're young, too." He was looking straight at her as he spoke. Her eyes, a little hard and challenging, then dropped. "That's different," she muttered. He nodded. "I know the causes were different enough," he agreed. "But the feeling back of them, that pushes one up against such a proposition, must be pretty much the same sort of thing. Anyway, It makes me understand: and I consider that It gives me a claim on you, and the privilege of trying try-ing to help you." Her eyes were still cast down, and suddenly she flushed, a strange, dark .flush that looked out of place on the pure whiteness of her skin. She had the exaggerated but wholesome pallor of skin that often goes with reddish hair and red-brown eyes. It does not lend Itself becomingly to flushes, and this deep flush lingered, an unwelcome visitor, throughout her muttered, almost al-most ungracious words. "Oh, please don't talk about It," she said, brusquely. "Tt's no use. I know you mean to be kind, but you can't do anything." "Oh, hut that's Just where you're wrong." Laurie spoke with a cheer-. cheer-. ful assurance he did not feel. "If I J hadn't been there myself, I'd talk all i sorts of twaddle to you, and do more I harm than good ; and I'd probably let (you go on thinking you were facing a trouble that no one could help. In- stead of that, you and I are going to I hold your bugaboo up to the light, - -' and see Just what It Is and how small I It is. And then" he smiled at her "we're going to get rid of It to-I to-I get her." ; She echoed his words, vaguely, as t If not knowing quite what to say. (' "Get rid of It?" ' "Yes. Tell me what It Is, and I'll show you how It can be downed." She. pushed back her chair, as if j anxious to put a greater distance be- i tween them. I "No," she exclaimed, nervously, j "It's Impossible; I can't talk about It." Then, In an obvious effort to side-track the Issue. "You said you wanted to tell me about your experience." expe-rience." "I do. but It Isn't a nice story. Fortunately, For-tunately, It won't take long." He spoke reluctantly. It was not easy to hook two such memories out of the "darkest pool of his life and hold them up to a stranger. "Oh, I was a young Idiot," he j rushed on, "and I suppose I hadn't the proper start-off. At least I like to think there's some oxcuse for me. My father and mother died when I was in knickerbockers, and I grew up doing very much us I pleased. I made a bad Job of It. Before I was twenty-one twenty-one 1 was expelled from college and I had worked up a pretty black reputation. repu-tation. Therj I gambled and lost a lot of money I didn't have, and it began to look as If about the only safe place for me was the family vault. "I made two efforts t; get there. The first time a wise old docto' topped me and never told any oue abwtt It. The second time one of my cln.ms took, a hand In the game. I don't know why they did It. I don't suppose either my pal of the doctor thought I was worth saving. But they talked to me like Dutch uncles, and my chum kept at It till 1 gave him my word that I'd never attempt anything of the sort again." "You were Just an unhappy boy." she said, as if thinking aloud, "with at) life before you and many friends to back you up." "And you," he suggested, "are Just an unhappy girl with all life before you. I don't know anything about yom friends, but I'll wager you've got a ",ot of them.' She shook her head. "Not one," she said, slowly. "I mean, not one I dare to call on, now." "I like that! You've got me to call on, right here." This time she really smiled at him. ft was a pathetic little smile, but both lips and eyes took part In It. He waited, but she said no more. He began be-gan to fear that his confidence had been given to no purpose. Evidently she had no Intention of making a confession con-fession in return. He resumed his attack at-tack from a new angle. "You've been disappointed In something some-thing or some one." he said. "Oh," as she made a gesture, "don't think I'm belittling It! I know it was something big. But the finish you chose wasD't meant to be, or It would have come off. You see that don'.t you? The very sun In Its course took pains to show you to me In time to stop It. That means something, Miss Mayo." She seemed slightly startled. "It Is Miss Mayo. Isn't It? That's the name the elevator boy gave me, yesterday." "It will do." She spoke absently, already on the trail of another thought. Suddenly she caught It. "Then you brought the basket, or sent It?" she cried. "It was you! How dared you !" She had half risen from her chair. Bending across the table, he gently pushed her back Into It. "Sit down," he said, Imperturbably. She hesitated, and he. repeated the command, this time almost curtly. Under the new tone she obeyed. "I'm going to tell you something," he went on. "I've exhausted my slender slen-der resources of experience and tact. I don't know what anyone else would do in this situation ; but I do know what I'm going to do myself. And, what Is a lot more Important, I know what you're going to do." She laughed, and he winced at the sound. . "That's easy," she said. "I'm going to finish the act you Interrupted." "Oh, no, you're not I" Her lips set. "Do you imagine you can prevent me?" "I know I can." His quiet assurance Impressed her. "How?" she asked, half mockingly. "Very easily. I can take you from this restaurant to the nearest police station, and have you locked up for attempted suicide. You know, It's a crime here." The word they had both avoided was out at last. Although he had spoken It very softly, Its echoes seemed to fill the big room. She shrank back and stared at him, her hands clutching the sides of her chair. ' "You wouldn't dare!" "Wouldn't I? I'll do It In exactly fifteen minutes, unless you give' me your word that you will never make another attempt of the kind." He took his watch out of his pocket and laid It on the table . between them. "It's exactly quarter past twelve," he said. "At half past" "Oh! and I thought you were kind!" There was horror In the brown eyes now and an antagonism that hurt him. "Would it be kinder to let you go back to that studio and " "How dare you Interfere In my af-fulrs af-fulrs ! Who gave you the right?" "Fate gave me the right. I'm Its chosen specialist on the job, and you may. take my word for It, my dear girl, the job's going to be done, and done up brown." He lit a fresh cigarette. "It will be mighty unpleasant for you," he went on, thoughtfully. "There"s the publicity, you know. Of course, all the newspapers will have your pictures " "Oil !" "And a lot of romantic stories " . "Oh you you " "But of course you can avoid all that." he reminded her. "by giving me your promise." She choked back her rising fury, and made an obvious effort at self-control. self-control. "If I ugree to these terms of yours," she asked, between her teeth, "may I be sure that you will leave me In peace and that J shall not see you again?" He looked at her reproachfully. "Dear me, no! Why, you'll have to see me every day. I've got to look after you for a while." At her expression ex-pression his tone chnnged. "You see," he said, with smiling seriousness, "you have shown that Just for the present you can't be trusted to guide your own actions. So Tm going to 'stick around,'' and guide them for a few days, until I am sure you are yourself your-self again !" "This " again she choked on the words "this Is Intolerable!" "Oh. I don't think so. You can see for yourself that I mean well, and that -I'm going to be a harmless sort of watchdog. Also, you can depend on me to go off duty as soon as It's safe. But for the present you're going go-ing to have a guardian ; and It's up to you to decide whether that guardian guar-dian shall he Laurence Devon, very much at your service, or the police force of the city of New York." She had I'.er chin In her hands now. In her characteristic pose, and was regarding him without resentment. When she finally spoke. It wa with- of time. See how fast these little hands are moving. The nearest police station Is only two blocks away. Unless Un-less you give me that promise, you will be In It In " he made a calculation calcula-tion "in just about four minutes." She sefemed to come to a decision. "Listen. to me," she said, rapidly. ''I cannot be frank with you " "I've noticed that," Laurie Interpolated, Interpo-lated, "with regret." She ignored the interruption. "But I can tell you this much. I am not alone In my trouble. Others are Involved. They are desperate. It Is because of them that I you understand?" under-stand?" Laurie shook his head. He did not understand at all ; but vague and unpleasant un-pleasant stories -about espionage and foreign spies suddenly filtered through his mind. "It sounds an awful mess," he said frankly. "If it's got anything to do with German propaganda " She Interrupted with a gesture of impatience. "No, no!" she cried. "I am not a German or a propagandist, or a pacifist paci-fist or a spy. That much, at least, I can tell you." "Then that's all right !" . Laurie glanced at his watch again. "If you had been a German spy," he added, "with a little round knob of hair on the back of your head and bombs in every pocket, I couldn't have had much to do with you. I really couldn't. But as you and your companions are not Involved in that kind of thing. I am forced to remind you that you'll be headed toward the station in Just one minute." |