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Show DOLE ISLAND By ETHEL HUESTON Copyright 1927 by The Eobbs-7vlerriIl Co. WMJ Service police trace him? IMd you ever get back Ihe liitle sketch, and" Very briefly slie told him of the rlis appearance nt the sketch. "Are are ynu sure?" he asked doubtfully; almost, it seemed to her. quizzically. "It seems very well, unnntural, you ktinw. Why. nobody knew about it IMdn't you drop the hook? Couldn't It have falleo out? It seems " "Now. don't yon think I atn crazy." she said with some heat "Kver.v body else does. Hut I am trusting you to trust me." "I will trusl you." he said quickly. "I do. It was bad luck all the way round, and I'm sorry. I wish I had taken the sketch from yon hy main force. I hale that worst of nil los lug the sketch. Do you remember the hand very tine " "Don't," she said. "Don't talk nt It. I should have done something for that poor hoy bin what could I do I" "Don't thiuk of It Let's talk ot something else. Are you remaining long on the Island? It seems very quiet here now. The summer people have gone, have they not?" In spite of her hest efforts, feeling the curious Interest of his eyes, and his words, Gay felt her face Hush for her lingering. "I was worn out," she explained quickly, "1 had to have a long rest. I shall stay a little longer a week or two perhaps. While the weather Is nice. I like It better now the sum mer crowd is gone. Just 'the nice, good, religious natives are left And me. I like It But I did not expect to see you here again." "I wish I could say I had come only to see you," he said, "but I am afraid I dare not go so far. As a matier of fact, I have learned that they are anticipating an-ticipating rather a land boom around here in the next two or three years, and my partner and I are hoping to 1 pick up something for a song, and sell It after a hit for a well, s grand opera. I am scouting out the land." "How interesting. How very Inter esting!" (Jay stood up suddenly. "You offered me tea before, and I refused. re-fused. I am holder now. Will yon tea with me? And tell me about It." They passed hack over the rocks and into the woods, skirting the Little club, in silence. "1 shall have to take a peep at some of your private papers. I think." Cay said smilinily. as r.lie led the way Into the I.one I'ine. "Or shall I call you She could not eat, although the breakfast break-fast tray for two was most enticingly arrayed. Over her cup of coffee her eyes clung to Hand's eyes, very large, very deep, darkly trembled. "Hand, please eat." she begged. "You will be very hungry before night I Mat. please eat !" "(jay, I can l. For the first time In my life, my appetite was all tilled up before I began. 1 hate to go and leave you. Gay, you aren't thinking of going away the first ot September, are you? I will make the trip as fast as I can, hut I cannot he hack hy the first. You vouldn'l go before I re turn, would yon?" "There's really nothing to hurry me away," she said reasonably. "1 like It here, and I do need n.ore rest, and they say the weather Is very nice In September." "The weather! Are you staying for the weather?" (lay shook her head. No for you." Hand stood up suddenly, and Gay too. rose slowly. Hard in hand they crossed the pleasant room to die door thai opened down upon the hay where ihe lio's'n waited for Hand, to lake liini away. "I kissed you when I came the first time." he said softly, "wouldn't It rather ' urt your feelings if I went a way less affectionately ?" Gay nodded. "Terribly. I should think you didn't like it." Rand took her in his .irms. and kissed her. not once, but many times. "Were you ever in love before. Rand?" Gay asked softly. "Well yes," he admitted hesitatingly. hesitat-ingly. "Er weren't you?" "Well yes." she acknowledged.' smiling faintly. "But never like this. Rand, never like this." Her cool. firm, slender fingers caressed ca-ressed his hair, touched his lips, cradled the curve of his chin "Rand," she whispered. "Rand." At three o'clock, with smiling trem uious lips, and tears streaming down her face, but laughing. Gay stood In the highest window of the I.one I'ine, and blew a kiss to the wind as Rand turned the Bo's'n east, to sea. - STORY FROM THE START On the verge of nervous, collapse, col-lapse, due to overwork, Gay De-lane, De-lane, successful New York artlsi, socks rem at Idle Inland. She rents a cottage, the "Lone Pine," from an Island character, the "Captain," and his sister. Alice Andover, "administrator." Gay finds the cottage Is tenanted by an elderly lady, "Auntalmlry." who consents to move to another an-other abode, the "Apple Tree." Awaking from sleep, Gay Imagines Imag-ines she sees the face of a Chinaman China-man peering In the window On an exploration of the Island Gay. 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 Ihe shore. A bullet wound In the temple shows the man to have been murdered. Gay makes her way to the 'Captain" with the :tory. Returning with' him to the shore, they find no body there, and Gay's story of the Incident Is set down to an attack ot "nerves" Gay. unable to convince her neighbors of the truth, draws a picture of the face of the dead man. Intending to send It to the authorities She meets a stranger, apparently another an-other visitor, to whom she tells the story and shows the picture He asks her to let him take It, but Gay refuses. Next day. after a night spent with "Auntalmlry.'' Gay finds the picture has been taken from the cottage "Rand" Wallace, wanderer, and considered consid-ered something of ft "black 1 sheep." by the islanders, expecting expect-ing to find "Auntalmlry," surprises sur-prises Gay at household tasks. She likes him at once. CHAPTER V Continued 7 The days (lew away like enchanted things. Gay had never been so happy, hap-py, although she neglected her sacred canvases and brush. How could she work with Rand sprawling In the window-sent at her side, brown hand touching her hand, gray eyes holding her eyes? Every day he worked faithfully faith-fully on the Bo's'n, Bemls' yacht, worked very hard for a few hours to spare himself more time to be with her, appearing at the Lone fine every morning promptly at eleven o'clock, the hour of her late breakfast, which was breakfast and luncheon in one. "So this is how one lives on noth-' noth-' lug a year," she said to him one day, laughing. "Well, 1 am relieved. I know at least that you will never starve." The next morning he hnnded her a tound of the best coffee obtainable at on rare occasion, one came on errand from Cortland, for the delivery of packages, perhaps, or a day's work It was only as in a dream that she had remembered the face. But now. with sudden fear. Ga knew It was no dream. She waited for Rand to come up to her. "Did you see him?" she whispered. whis-pered. "The Chink? Yes. The men must be down at the club house. They ul ways bring some one along to cook usually a darky, but once It was a Jap. I'erhaps they're giving all na tions a try by turn." Then he felt Gay's intensity in her silence, the closeness of hei hand on his. "Why, Gay, whal Is the mat' r? You're not afraid of him! Don't he :;fraid ot a Chinkle, llie.v never harm anybody. You afraid! A woman who lives alone, and not recording to natur and brags about it !" Although Gay realized thai the t'e males Wallace, as he all'ectionalel.v called them, must no doubt long since have lold Rand Ihe story of I lie afTaii In Ihe cove as ihev knew it, he had CHAPTER VI With the first ot September came the breaking up of the sum.ner colony. col-ony. Gay was grateful for the silence after the clamor of young voices, twanging ukuleles, whining saxophones. saxo-phones. Adorable, waiting tlupe at the top of the hill, for Rand .o come! If sometimes she was troubled by a vague presentiment, a prophetic suggestion sug-gestion that all her future life would be something like that waiting for Rand, she stilled it resolutely. She felt that it was doubly sweet to be alone in awaiting his return, that ot all the summer colnry. she alone remained, re-mained, waiting. There was a point high on the rocks to the east of the Little club where she often sat by the hour, chin In hand, gazing dreamily off to sea. Rand would not return that way. He would come by fastest Stnte-of-Muine express, but It . was the way he bad gone, and so intrigued her rancy. Chin in hand, eyes misty with dreams, thoughts far away to sea in the south, she sat one day when a voice called up to her from a lower place among the rocks. "Miss Delane! May 1 come up?" Gay turned quickly, and her eyes contracted wonderingly. She smiled. It was the man she had directed to the landing on the fateful day of her discovery in the cove. "Come up. by all means," she said cordially. And as lie came up, climbing care fully itnd with a caution that spoke of little custom, she gave him her hand in greeting. "How in the world did you know my name?" she asked interestedly. "Oh. Gay Delane! It was on your sketch hook that day. I.Jo tell me I have wondered about it so many times whatever came of it all? Did the Walked Up and Down Beneath the Trees never referred to it by word or by suggestion. It was that innate courtesy, cour-tesy, that delicate New lingland re serve, which held sacred from reference refer-ence a subject that might give pain Now, suddenly, Gay wished he would speak of It. would ask her whal nlie had seen, or thought she saw. She wished greatly to talk freely with him, to tell him the surprising things that had happened to her on the island. is-land. The closeness of her clasp on his hand relaxed. "I am not afraid." she said easily. "I just wondered who it was." There was no sound from the wild growth of brush that lay so thickly about them, no faintest crackle ol dried, dead, crumbling needles of pine, but as Gay finished speaking, a dark shadow slipped away, almost from beneath be-neath her hand, slipped away, shadow like, and melted with the other shad ows. And neither Gay nor Rand sus pected one shadow mor or less among the many on either side. Even when the Bo's'n was ready at last for the trip down the coast. Rand put off his departure as leng as he could, and when further delay was Impossible, Im-possible, he sent his bags aboard and with all in readiness for sailing, with the two men chosen for his crew aboard, he slowly climbed the hill foi a final breakfast with (Jay at eleven o'clock. Gay was very wistful, very sad i 'Say'?" "Ingram, lionald Ingram I beg your pardon, I seem to feel that I know you so well I uite forgot you did not know my name." "Well, Mr Ingram, welcome to the Lone I'ine. There is something about yon something New Vorky Ihat makes me tingle for Times square." They were chatting companionably over their tea, chatting of work, of aims and interests, the big things of life, when Anntalmiry came - to the door. She came intentionally knowing know-ing there was a guest; Gay knew that at once, realized it wilh a vague resentment, re-sentment, although knowing It was not like the little old woman to in trude. She was dressed for the occasion oc-casion In her best black Sunday silk with her coral cameo at her throat There was a Hush of excitement In her cheeks, and sis she stepped into the room, not glancing at Gay. she swep Ronald Ingram wilh an eager breathless gaze. "Oh. Mrs. Hridges. this Is Mr In gram." Gay said lightly. "Mrs Bridges, for company." j.he explained laughingly. "Anntalmiry to all us home-folks. Sit down. AnntaPniry ; tea's nice and hot." "Yes yes. I will." Au'Ualunrj sat down stiffly, her eyes still iiiient on tile young man who had crossed Hih room to stand hy her chnii as she sank into it. And intent upon his face, the lighi faded suddenly from her eyes, the Hush died in her iceks All In a moment she was smaller old er, very tired A little Intel Mr Ingram iveni away with nmiiv warm anil pieasani words, and witli h last lighi lingering touch on Gay's- hand Tlieii eyes met understanding!, as they smiled fare rt'ell When Gay returned to untal-miry untal-miry she was sitting wilted sliguMv In the chair, and . t face was -id "Gay. you will excuse me. won i you? For coming like that, when you had company. I saw him on the piazza piaz-za a stranger and 'I thought ma.vh.' Buddy had c me." "Buddy? Do you mean ItandV" "No. Buddy my son. I'.uddy " "Auntalmiry. your son! Have you a son? Oh. I didn'l know yen had a son. Why didn't you tell me?' "Yes, Buddy, my son I didn't tell you, dearie, because we aren'l like that Wt just hold things in our nearts. sad things, and say nothing. The glad things, too, perhaps, too tLUch. We don't scatter our feelings, good or bad; we shut them, i thought perhaps some one else had told you." "No. No one on this Island has ever mentioned your son Buddy 1 never heard of him before." "We are like that." she said faintly. faint-ly. "We hold one another's secrets to ourselves. They would talk to each other but no one would tell my sadness to an outsider, one who didn't belong." "Was !t a sadness, Auntalmlry. having hav-ing the son?" Auntalmiry's eyes glowed suddenly, but her voice remained mild and even. "It was heaven." she said gently. "But he went away and never came back." "Oh 1 I am sorry." "He was a gypsy boy. Buddy, like his father. His father was a singer who came 1 re one summer a tine singer. But he was a gypsy. He went away, too. E I didn't mind that so much." (TO BE CONTINUED I the Pier grocery store. He was very i. mighty. "1 may be low, hut I have my pride." he said. "My coffee! And when it is gone, kindly notify me. More will be forthcoming." "Don't forget the electricity." she reminded him gayly. "It must be a nickel a week." And laughingly she accepted the dingy coin he selected carefully from a handful to give her. Every day he went up the slope to the Lone Pine at sunset, that sweetest hour of the day, and sat with her In the window-seat on the west, looking .. down to the bay where the sky burned with fresh-blown gold and tlame and amethyst, burned fiercely for a while before it paled to smoking rubers, pastel shades of rose and violet and cream. And when the embers em-bers had faded to gray ash. they went into the woods, and walked up and down beneath the trees that gussiped lo one another above them, and breathed deeply of the Intoxicating spices of the forest pine, and spruce, and fir. At that hour they never talked, but wandered slowly here and there, stumbling sometimes over the twisted old roots of trees or fallen logs, slid ing over treacherous rocks, holding hands like children, smiling at each other. (Hie night they lingered long In the forest, so that dusk was blackening the shadows when they turned up be hind the Little club, ir that pathless bit of the wood. As they went on laughing softly, and stumbling, sud denly, without a sound, they came up to one who was walking toward them, swiftly, surely, toward the shore. AH feet fall softly on the thick pillowing pil-lowing ot pine needles and dry mosses, but those feet that came to meet them nade no sound at all. As they came together. Gay looked up with keen hut friendly Interest to see who walked In her enchanted wood at nightfall, and then she caught her breath with a sudden startled intake. The face that she saw in the dusk was sharply faniitiar. unmistakable, a thin little face that showed yellow in the gloaming, like yellow parchment, with narrow, sloping p'p.ond eyes, and beneath one of them a faint shining mark, like a seam in the parchment, where a scar seared the liesh. the face ol a yellow, little old Chinaman. In the dusk, as she had seen it before, be-fore, she saw it again. a.id In the frac tion of a moment, the dusk received him again, noiselessly, as it had re reived hii.i before. Gay had not by any means forgot ten hei first night on 'he island: when she lay alone in the cottage on the fringe of the woods In her great exhaustion ex-haustion of mind and physical weariness; weari-ness; when, sleeping, she had seemed to feel a gaze upon her. and stirred to see. or think she saw. the thin yel low face In the gloaming; and had turned again to her sleep, saying dreamily It was but a dream. She bad. however, made Inquiry casualty and had been told there were no res) lenl Chinese on the Island, but lliat, |