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Show ' I home 1 1 A Story of Today and ; of All "Days V, i; By GEORGE AGNEW CHAMBERLAIN l I Copyright by the Century Company crossing the disk of the disappearing sun. Alix felt a thrill at his touch. "It's a sweet little picture, isn't it?" she said. "But you mustn't touch me, Alan. It can't be good for us." "So you feel it too," said Alan, and took his hand from her arm. During the voyage they were much together, not In dark corners but waging wag-ing their battle In the open two swimmers swim-mers that fought each other, forgetting to fight the tide that was bearing them out to sea. Alan was not a philanderer philander-er to snatch an unrequited kiss. To him a kiss was the seal on surrender. But to Alls the game was its own goal. As she had always played it, nobody had ever really won anything. However, it did not take her long to appreciate that in Alan she had an opponent who w-as constantly getting under her guard and making her feel things things that were alarming in themselves like the jump of one's heart into the throat or the intoxication that goes with hot racing blood. Alan's power over women was In voice and words. If be nad been hideous hid-eous it would have been the same. With his tongue he carried Alls away and gave her that sense of isolation which lulls a wc ian into laxity. One night as they sat side by side, a single great rug across their knees, Alan laid his hand under cover on hers. A quiver went through AUx' body. Her closed hand stirred nervously but she did not really draw it away. "Alan," she said, "I've told you not to! Please don't. It's common this sort of thing." Alan tightened his grip. "You ay it's common," he said, "because you've never thought it out. Lightning was common till somebody thought it out. I sit beside you without touching you and we are in two worlds. 1 grip your hand like this and the abyss between be-tween us is closed. While I hold you nohing can come between." Alix' hand opened and settled into his. For a while they sat silent, then Alix recovered herself. "After all," she said, "we're not on a desert island but on a ship with eyes in every corner." cor-ner." Alan leaned toward her. "But if we were, Alix! If we were on a dasert island you and I " For a moment Alix looked Into his burning eyes. She felt that there was fire in her own eyes, too a fire she could not altogether control. She disengaged dis-engaged herself and sprang up. Alan rose slowly and stood beside her. He did not look at her parted lips and hot cheeks; he had suddenly become languid. lan-guid. "That's it," he drawled, "eye In every corner. I wonder how many morals would stand without other people's peo-ple's eyes to prop them up?" (TO BE CONTINUED.) ty shoulders "I have not been trained up to them. To me, they ara mounted mount-ed butterflies in a museum, cut flowers flow-ers crowded at the florist's. But this picture and that nook they -have waited for each other. You see the picture nestling down for a long rest and it seems a small thing and then it catches your eye and holds it and you see that it is a little door that opens on a wide world. It has slipped into the room and become a part of life." A strange stillness followed on Alix' words. To the judge and to Gerry it was as though the picture had opened a window to her mind. Then she closed the window. "Come, Gerry," she said, turning. "Make your bow to the judge and bark." Gerry was excited, though be did not show it.' "You have' dressed my thoughts in words I can't equal," he said and strolled out on to the little veranda at the back of the house. He wanted to be alone for a moment and think over this flash of light that had followed a dark day. For the first time in a long while Alix had revealed herself. her-self. He did not begrudge the judge his triumph. He knew instinctively that coming from him instead of from the judge the picture would not have struck that intimate spark. The next day Gerry gave his consent to Alix' plan for a flying trip abroad, but with a reservation. The reservation reserva-tion was that she should join some party and leave him behind. Judge Healey heard of this arrangement arrange-ment only when it was on the point of being put into effect. In fact he was only just in time at the steamer to wave good-by to Alix. Leaning over the rail, with her high color, moist red lips and big excited eyes making play under a golden crown of hair and over a huge armful of roses, Alix presented a picture not easily forgotten. forgot-ten. The judge turned to Gerry. "She ought not to be going without you, my boy." "Oh, it's all right," said Gerry lightly. light-ly. "She's well chaperoned. It's a big party, you know." But during the weeks that followed the judge saw it was not all right. Gerry had less and less time for golf and more and more for whiskys and sodas. The judge was troubled and felt a sort of relief when from far away Alan Wayne cropped into his affairs af-fairs and gave him something else to think about. When Angus MeDale of McDale and McDale called without appointment the judge knew at once that he was going to hear something about Alan. "Lucky to find you in," puffed McDale. Mc-Dale. "it isn't business exactly or I'd have 'phoned. I was just passing by." "Well, what Is it?" asked the judge, offering his visitor a fresh cigar. "It's this. That boy. Alan Wayne sort of protege of yours, isn't he?" "Yes in a way yes," said the judge slowly, frowning. "What has Alan done now?" "It's like this," said McDale. "Six months ago we sent Mr. Wayne out on contract as assistant to Walton. Walton Wal-ton no sooner got on the ground than he fell sick. He put Wayne in charge and then he died. Now this is the point. Mr. Wayne seems to have promoted pro-moted himself to Walton's pay. He had the cheek to draw his own as well, He won't be here for weeks but his accounts came in today. I want tc "What Has Alan Done Now?" know if you'see ,"iiy reason why we shouldn't have that money back, to say the least." The judge's face cleared. "Didn't ht tell you why be drew Walton's pay?' "Not a word. Said he'd explain accounts ac-counts when he got here but that soli of thing takes a lot of explaining." "Well," said the judge, "I can tell you. Walton's pay went to his widow through me. I've been doing some puzzling on this case already. Now Will yon tell me how-Alan got the money without drawing on you?" "Oh, there was plenty of money lying ly-ing around. The job cost ten per cent less than Walton's estimate. If he'd come back we'd have hauled him over the coals for the blunder. There was the usual reserve for work In inaccessible inac-cessible regions and then the people we did the job for paid ten days bonus for finishing that much ahead of contract time." The judge mused. "Was the job satisfactory to the people out there?" ; be asked "Yes, it was," said MeDale bluntly. "Most satisfactory. But there was a funny thing there too. They wrote that while they did not approve of Mr. Wayne's time-saving methods, the finished work bad their absolute acceptance." ac-ceptance." ' The judge was silent for a moment. "You want my advice?" "Yes, not for our own sake but for Wayne's." "Well." said the judge, "I'm going to give it to you for your sake. When you stumble across a boy than can cut ten per cent off the working and time estimates of an old hanil like Walton, you bind him to you with a long contract con-tract at any salary he wants. And just one thing more: when Alan Wayne steals a cent from you or fifty thousand dollars you come to me and I'll pay it." McDale's eyes narrowed and he puffed nervously at his cigar. He got up to take his leave. "Judge," he said, "your head is on right and your heart's in the right place, as well. I begin to see that widow business. Wayne sized us up for a hard-headed firm when it comes to paying out what we don't have to and we are. It wasn't law, but he was right. Walton's work was done just as if he'd been alive. Even a Scotchman can see that. You needn't worry. A man that you'll back for fifty thousand Is good enough for McDale & McDale." It was AlLx that discovered Alan as the Elenie steamed slowly down the Solent. He was already comfortably established in his chair with a small pile of fiction beside him. She paused before she approached him. Alan had always interested her. Alix had thought of him heretofore as a modem exquisite subject to atavic fits that, in times past, had led him into more than one barbarous escapade. esca-pade. Now in London she had by chance heard things of him that forced her to readjustment of her estimate. In six months Alan had turned himself into a mystery. "Well," she said, coming up behind him, "how are you?" Alan turned his head slowly and then threw off his rugs and sprang to bis feet. "The sky is clear,"-he said, "where did you drop from?" His eyes measured meas-ured her. She was ravishing in a fur toque and coat which had yet to receive re-ceive their baptism of Import duty. "Oh," said Alc, "my presence is humdrum. Just the usual returning from six weeks abroad. But you! You come from the haunts of wild beasts and from all accounts you have been one." 1 "Been one! From all accounts!" ex- 1 claimed Alan, a puzzled frown on his face. "Just what do you mean?" They started walking. "I meant that even in Africa one can't hide from Piccadilly. Pic-cadilly. In Piccadilly you are already -known. Not as Mr. Alan Wayne, a New York social satellite, but as a 1 whirlwind in shirt sleeves. Ten Percent Per-cent Wayne, in short." She looked 1 at him with teasing archness. She could see that he was worried. 1 "Satellite is rather rough," remarked ' Alan. "I never was that." "All bachelors are satellites in the nature of things satellites to other men's wives." "Have you a vacancy?" said Alan. They both knew they were embarking embark-ing upon a dangerous game, but Alix played it often. No pretty woman takes her European degree without ample occasion for practice and Alix had been through the European mill. She threw out her daintily shod feet as she walked. She was full of life. She felt like skipping. The light of battle danced merrily in her eyes. She made no other reply. "I met lots of people we both know," she said, at last. "Which one of them passed on the news that I had taken to the ways of a wild beast?" "Oh, that was the Honorable Percy. I only caught a few words. He was telling about a man known as Ten I Percent Wayne and the only time he'd ever seen the shirt-sleeve policy work with natives. When I learned it was Africa, I linked up with you at once and screamed and he turned to me and said, 'You know Mr. Wayne?' But just then Lady Merle signaled the retreat, re-treat, and when the men came out somebody else snaffled Collingeford before be-fore I got a chance." "Oh, Collingeford," said Alan. "I remember." He frowned and was silent si-lent "Alan," said Alix after a moment, "let me warn you. I see a new ten-' ten-' dency In you but before it goes any further than a tendency let me tell you that a thoughtful man is a most awful bore. When I caught sight of you I thought, 'What a delightful little party,' but If you're going to be pensive there are others" Alan glanced at her. "Alix," he 1 said, mimicking her tone, "I see in you the makings of an altogether charming ' woman. I'm not speaking of the painstaking veneer I suppose you need that in your walk of life but what's under it. There may be others, as you say. Pretty women have taken to wearing men for bangles. But don't yon make a mistake. I'm not a ban-' ban-' gle. I've just come from the unclothed i world of real things. To me a man is just a man and, what's more, a woman ' is just a woman." i : "How un-American." said Alix. ' i "It's more than that," said Alan, ' "it8 pre-American." Alix was thoughtful In her turn. Alan caught her by the arm and turned her toward the west A yawl was just I SYNOPSIS. 2 Alan Wavne Is sent away from Red Hill, his home, by his uncle, J. Y.. as a moral failure. Clem runs after him in a tangle of short skirts to bid him good-by. CHAPTER II Continued. "It doesn't amount to an appointment. appoint-ment. Just a Job as assistant to Walton, Wal-ton, the engineer the contractors are sending out. We're going to put up a bridge somewhere In Africa." "That's it I knew it," said the captain. cap-tain. "Going away. Want any money?" The question came like solid shot out of a four-pounder. Alan started, colored and smiled, all at the same time. "No, thanks, sir," he replied, "I've got all I need." The captain hitched his chair forward, for-ward, placed his hands on his knees, leaned forward and glared out on the avenue. "The Lansings," he began, like a boy reciting a piece, "are devils for drink, the Waynes for women. Don't you ever let 'em worry you about drink. Nowadays the doctors call us nonalcoholic. In my time it was Just plain strong heads for wine. I say, don't worry about drink. There's a safety valve in every Wayne's gullet. gul-let. "But women, Alan!" The captain slued around his bulging eyes. "You look out for them. As your greatgrandfather great-grandfather used to say, 'To women, -only perishable goods sweets, flowers and kisses.' And you take it from me, kisses aren't always the cheapest ' They say God made everything down to little apples and Jersey lightning. But when he made women the devil helped." The captain's nervousness dropped from bis as he deliberately drew out his watch and fob. "Good-thing "Good-thing he did, too," he added, as a pleasing afterthought He leaned back in his chair. A complacent look came over his face. Alan got up to say good-by. The captain arose, too, and clasped the hand Alan held out. "One more thing," he .said. "Don't forget there's always a Wayne to back a Wayue for good or ljad." There was a suspicion of moisture mois-ture in his eye as he hurried his guest -off. Back In his room Alan found letters awaiting hiin. He read them and tore them up all but one. It was from Clem. She wrote; Dear Alan: Nance gays you are going very far away. I am sorry. It has been raining here very much. In the hollows all the bridges are under water. I have invented a new game. It Is called "steamboat." "steam-boat." I play It on old Dubbs. We go down Into the valley and I make htm go through the water around the bridges. He puffs Just like a steamboat and when he gets out he smokes all over. He is too fat. I hope you will come back very oon. CLEM. That evening Clem was thrown into a transport by receiving her first telegram. tele-gram. It rend, "You must not play steamboat again, it is dangerous, Alan." She tucked It in her bosom and rushed over to the Firs to show it to Gerry. Gerry and Alix were spending the summer at the Firs, where Mrs. Lansing, Lan-sing, Gerry's widowed mother, was still nominally the hostess. They had been married two years, but people still spoke of Alix as Gerry's bride, and iu so doing stamped her with her own seal. To strangers they carried the air of a couple about to bemar-ried bemar-ried at the rational close of a long engagement en-gagement No children or thought of children had come to turn the channel of life for Alix. On Gerry marriage sat as an added habit It was beginning begin-ning to look as though he and. Alix drifted together not because they were carried by the same currents but because be-cause they were tied. Where duller minds would have dubbed Gerry the Ox, Alan had named III in the Itock, and Alan was right. Gerry had a dignity beyond mere bulk. He had all the powers of resistance, none of articulation. Where a pinprick pin-prick would start an ox it took an upheaval up-heaval to move Gerry. Au upheaval was on the way, but Gerry did not know it It was yet afar off. To the Lansings marriage had always al-ways been one of the regular functions func-tions of a regulated life part of the general scheme of tilings. Gerry was slowly realizing that his marriage with Alix was far from a mere function, had little to do with a regular life and was foreign to what he had alwavs consld-7 consld-7 cred the general scheme of things. Alix bad developed, quite naturally Into a social butterfly. Gerry did not picture her as chain lightning plaving on a rock, as Alan would have done, but be did, in a vague way, feel that bits of bis impassive self were being chipped away. Red Hill bored Alix and she showed It The first summer after the marriage mar-riage they had spent abroad. Now Alix' thoughts and talk turned con-. con-. atantly toward Europe. She eveu suggested sug-gested a flying trip for the fall but Gerry refused to be dragged so far from golf and his club. H8 stuck doggedly dog-gedly to Red Hill till the leaves began to turn, and then consented to move back to town. On their last night at the Firs Mrs. I.ausiug, who was complacently Aunt Jane to Waynes and Eltons, entertained enter-tained Red Hill as a whole to dinner. With the arrival of dessert, to Alix' surprise, Nance said, "Port all around, please'. Aunt Jane." Lansings, Waynes and Eltons were heavy drinkers in town, but it was a tradition, as Alix knew, that on Red Hill they dropped it all but the old captain. It was as though, amid the scenes of their childhood, they became be-came children and just as a Frenchman French-man of the old school will not light a cigarette in the presence of bis father, so they would not take a drink for drink's sake on Red Hill. So Alix looked on interestedly as the old butler set glasses and started the port. When It had gone the round Nance stood up, and with her hands on the table's edge, leaned toward them all. For a Wayne, she was very fair. As they looked at her the color swept over her bare neck. Its waive reached her temples and seemed to stir the clustering tendrils of her hair. Her eyes were grave and bright with moisture. Her lips were tremulous. "Wc drink to Alan," she said, "today is Alan's birthday." She sat down. They all raised their glasses. Little Clem had no wine: She put a thin hand on Gerry's arm. "Please, Gerry, please!" Gerry held down his glass. Clematis dipped in the tip of her little finger, and as they all drank, gravely carried the drop of wine to her lips. As Judge Healey, gray-haired but erect, walked up the avenue his keen glance fell on Gerry Lansing standing across the street before an art dealer's deal-er's window. Gerry's eyes were fastened fas-tened on a picture that be had long had in mind for a certain nook in the library of the town house. It was the second anniversary of his wedding, and though it was already late in the afternoon Gerry had not yet chosen his gift for Alix. He turned from tbe picture with a last long look and a shrug and passed on to a palatial jeweler's farther up the street. For many years Judge Healey had been foster-father to Red Hill in general gen-eral and to Gerry in particular. With almost womanly intuition he read what was In Gerry's mind before the picture and acting on impulse tbe judge crossed the street and bought it While the judge was still In the picture pic-ture shop Gerry came out of the Jeweler's Jew-eler's and started briskly for home. He bad purchased a pendant of -brilliants, extravagant for his purse but yet saved to good taste by a simple originality in design. He waited until the dinner hour and then slipped bis gift Into Alix' hand as they walked down., the stairs together. to-gether. She stopped beneath the hall light. "I can't wait, dear, I simply can't." She snapped open the case. "Oh!" she gasped. "How dear! How perfectly dear! Y"ou old sweetheart!" She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him twice. Then she flew away to tbe drawing room in search of Mrs. Lansing and the judge, the sole guests lo the little anniversary dinner. Gerry straightened his tie and followed. Alix' tongue was rippling her whole body was rippling with excitement and pleasure. She dangled her treasure treas-ure before their eyes. She laid it against her warm neck and ran to a mirror. The light iu her eyes matched the light in the stones. The judge took the jewel and laid it In the palm of his strong hand. It looked In danger dan-ger of being crushed. "A beautiful thing, Gerry," he said, "and well chosen. cho-sen. Some poet jeweler dreamed that twining design and set the stones while the dew was still on the grass." After dinner the four gathered In the library, but thoy were hardly seated seat-ed when Alix sprang up. Her glauce had followed Gerry's startled gaze. He was staring at the coveted picture he had been looking at iu the gallery that afternoon. It bung in the niche in which bis thoughts bad placed It Alix took her stand before it. She glanced iuquiringly at the others. Mrs. Lansing nodded at the judge. Alix turned back to the picture and gravity stole into her face. Then she faced the Judge with a smile. "We live," she said, "in a rhilistlne age. don't we? But I've never let any Philistinism drive pictures from their right place iu the heart. Pictures in art galleries" she shrugged her pret- |