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Show TGne ESMimdl Menu9 Ey i ? "I REFUSE" Gabriel Wftrdwn, 8attle capitalize, capital-ize, UUa hU bullur he Ul expu:tlng a culler, to be admitted without quealloa. He Inform his wile of diintfer Uiat threatens him If he purauea a course he considers the only honorable one. Warden leave die hou In hlH car and meet a rnaa whom he taken Into the machine. ma-chine. When the car returna home, Warden la found dcatl. murderc-d, and alone. The caller, a young-man, young-man, hag been at Warden's houee, but leaves unobserved. Bob Con-nery, Con-nery, conductor, receives orders to hold train for a party. Five men and a Klrl board the train, the eastern express. The father of the Klrl, Mr, Dome, Is the person for whom the train was hold. Philip L. teuton, a young man, also boarded the train. iArne tells his daughter and his secretary, Von Avery, to llnd out what they can concerning him. The two make Katon's acquaintance. Dome is found nearly dead from a murderous murder-ous assault- A surgeon operates. Dome is revealed as Basil San-tolne, San-tolne, blind, and a power In the llnanclal world as the adviser of "big Intereau." talon Is suspected and questioned. He refuses Information Infor-mation about himself and udinlts he was the caller at Warden's house. Eaton pleads with Vlarrlet San-tolne San-tolne to withhold Judgment, telling her he Is In serious danger, though innocent of the crime against her father. He feels the girl believes him. CHAPTER X Continued. While she spoke, the blood, rising with her embarrassment, had dyed Harriet's fuce; suddenly now she looked away from him and out the window. "lie would be called, I judge, a rather likable-looking man?" Santolne mild tentatively; his question plainly was only meant to lead up to something some-thing else; Santolne had Judged In that purtlcular already. "Mr. Eaton" Santolne addressed him suddenly "I understand that you have admitted that you were at the house of Gabriel Warden the evening eve-ning he was killed while in bis car. Is that soT "Yes," said Enton. "You are the man, then, of whom Gebrlel Warden spoke to his wife?" "I believe so." "You believe so?" "I mean," Eaton explained quietly, "that I came by appointment to call on Mr. Warden that night. I believe that it must have been to me that Mr. Warden referred In the conversation with Ids wife which has since been quoted In the newspapers." "Because you were In such a situation situa-tion that, If Mr. Warden defended you, he would himself meet danger?" "I did not say that," Eaton denied guardedly. "What, then, was your position In igard to Mr. Warden?" Eaton remained silent. "You refuse to answer?" Santolne Inquired. "I refuse." "In spite of the probability that Mr. Warden met his death because of his Intention to undertake something some-thing for you?" "I have not been able to fbc that as a probability." "Mr. Eaton, have I ever Injured you personally I don't mean directly, as man to man, for I should remember that ; have I ever done anything which Indirectly has worked injury on you or your affairs?" "No," Eaton answered. "Who sent you aboard this train?" "Sent me? No one." "You took the train of your own will because I was taking It?" "I have not said I took It because you were taking It." "That seems to be proved. Yon can accept it from me ; It has been proved. Did you take the train In order to attack me?" "No." "To spy upon me?" "No." Santolne was silent for an Instant. "What was It you took the train to tell me?" "I? Nothing." "That Is all, Mr. Eaton." Eaton started back to his compartment. compart-ment. As he turned, narriet Santolne looked up at him and their eyes met; and her look confirmed to him what he had felt before that her father, now-taking now-taking control of the investigation of the attack upon himself, was not continuing con-tinuing It with prejudice or predisposed predis-posed desire to damage Eaton, except ex-cept as the evidence accused him. And her manner now told, even more plainly than Santoine's, that the blind man had viewed the evidence as far from conclusive against Eaton; and tis Harriet showed that she was glad of that, Eaton realized how she must have taken his side against Avery In reporting to her father. Eaton had barely finished breakfast when a bumping against the car told him that It was being coupled to a train. The new train started, and now the track followed the Mississippi river. Eaton, looking forward from his window as the train rounded curves, saw that the Santolne car was now the last one of a train presumably pre-sumably bound from Minneapolis to Chicago. At nine o'clock In the evening, eve-ning, some minutes after crossing the state lino into Illinois, the train stopped at o station where the last car was cut off. X motor-nmhulance and other limousine motor-cars were waiting In the light from the station. Eaton, seated at the window, saw Santolne can-Led out on a stretcher and put "By WILLIAM MacIIARG V EDWIN BALMER Oprrlght kr Uru. Bnn u4 Compiaj Into the ambulance, narriet Santolne, after giving a direction to a man who apparently was a chauffeur, got Into the ambulance with her father. The surgeon and the nurses rode with them. They drove off. Avery entered another automobile, u-hlch swiftly disappeared. dis-appeared. Conductor Counery came for the last time to Eaton's door. "Miss Santolne says you're to go with the man she's left here for you." The porter appeared with his overcoat over-coat and hut. Eaton put them on and stepped out of the car. The conductor escorted him to a limousine car. "This is the gentleman," Connery said to the chauffeur to whom Harriet Santolne San-tolne had spoken. The man opened the door of the limousine ; another man, whom Eaton had not before seen, was seated In the car; Eaton stepped In. Connery extended his hand "Good-by, sir." "Good-by." The motor-car drove down a wide, winding road with tall, spreading trees on both sides. The man In the car with Eaton, whose duty plainly was only that of a guard, did not speak to Eaton nor Eaton to him. The motor passed other limousines occasionally ; then, though the road was still wide and smooth and still bounded by great trees, It was lonelier; no houses appeared ap-peared for half a mile; then lights glowed directly ahead; the car ran under un-der the porte-cochere of a great stone country mansion ; a servant sprang to the door of the limousine and opened It ; another man seized Eaton's hand-baggage from beside the chauffeur. Eaton entered a large, beamed and paneled hallway with an Immense fireplace with logs burning In It ; there was a wide stairway which the servant, who had appointed himself Eaton's guide, ascended. Eaton followed him and found another great hall upstairs. The servant led him to one of the doors opening off this and Into a large room, fitted for a man's occupancy, with dark furniture, cases containing books on hunting, sports and adventure, and smoking things; off this was a dressing dress-ing room with the bath next ; beyond was a bedroom. "These are to be your rooms, sir," the servant said. A valet appeared and unpacked Eaton's traveling bag. Eaton went to bed, but amazement would not let him sleep. He was In Santoine's house; he knew It could be no other than Santoine's San-toine's house. It was to get into Santoine's San-toine's house that he had come from Asia ; he had thought and planned and schemed all through the long voyage on the steamer how It was to be done. He would have been willing to cross the continent on foot to accomplish It; no labor that he could Imagine would have seemed too great to him If this had been Its end ; and here It had been done without effort on his part, naturally, Inevitably I Chance and circumstance had done It I And as he realized this, his mind was full of what he had to do In Santoine's San-toine's house. For many days he had not thought about that; it had seemed impossible that he could have any opportunity op-portunity to act for himself. And the return to his thoughts of possibility pos-sibility of carrying out his original plan brought before him thoughts of his friends those friends who through his exile, had been faithful to him but whose Identity or existence he had been obliged to deny, when questioned, to protect them as well as himself. As he lay on his bed In the dark, he stared upward to the celling, wide awake, thinking of those friends whose devotion to him might be Justified at it 1 The First Gray of Dawn Roused Eaton, and Drawing on Trousers and Coat Over His Pajamas, He Seated Himself by the Open Window to See the House by Daylight, last ; and he went over again and tested and reviewed the plan he had formed. But it never had presumed a position for him even if it was the position of a semi-prisoner inside Santoine's house. And he required more Information of the structure of the house than he us yet had, to correct cor-rect his plun further. But he could not, without too great risk of losing everything, discover more that night ; he turned over and set himself to go to sleep. CHAPTER XI Th Ally In the House, The first gray of dawn roused Eaton, and drawing on trousers and coat over his pajamas, he seated himself by the open window to see the house by daylight As It grew lighter, he could see It was an Immense structure struc-ture of smooth gray stone. Eaton was In Its central part, his windows looking look-ing to the south. As he watched, one of the two nurses who had been on the tralD lame to a window of the farthest room on the second floor of the south wing and stood looking out ; that, then, must be Santoine's room ; and Eaton drew back from his window as he noted this. The sun had risen, and Its beams, reflected up from the lake, danced on his celling. Eaton, chilled by the sharp air off the water and knowing now the locality where he must be pulled off his coat and trousers and Jumped back Into bed. He realized that circumstances had given him time for anything he might wish to do ; for the night's stop at Minneapolis and Santoine's unexpected taking him into his own charge must have made Eaton's disappearance complete; for the present he was lost to "them" who had been "following" him, and to his friends alike. His task, then, was to let his friends know where he was without letting "them" learn It; and thinking of how this was to be done, he fell asleep again. At nine he awoke with a start; then, recollecting everything, he Jumped up and shut his windows. There was a respectful, apologetic knock at the door ; evidently a servant had been waiting In the hall for some sound within the room. "May I come In, sir?" "Come In." The man who had attended him the evening before entered. "Your bath, sir; hot or cold In the morning, sir?" "Hot," Eaton answered. "Of course, sir; I'd forgotten you'd just come from the Orient, sir. I shall tell them to bring breakfast up, sir; or will you go down?" the man asked. Eaton considered. The manners of servants are modeled on the feelings of their masters, and the man's deference defer-ence told plainly that, although Eaton might be a prisoner, he was not to be treated openly as such. "I think I can go down," Eaton replied. re-plied. He found the hall and the rooms below bright and open but unoccupied un-occupied ; a servant showed him to a blue Delft breakfast room to the east. He had half finished his bacon and greens before anyone else appeared. ap-peared. This was a tall, carefully dressed man of more than fifty, with handsome, hand-some, well-bred features plainly a man of position and wealth but without with-out experience In affairs, and without with-out power. He was dark haired and wore a mustache which, like his hair, was beginning to gray. As he appeared ap-peared In the hall without hat or overcoat, over-coat, Eaton understood that he lived In the house ; he came directly Into the breakfast room and evidently had not breakfasted. "I am Wallace Blatchford," the stranger volunteered as Eaton looked up. He gave the name In a manner which seemed to assume that he now must be recalled ; Eaton therefore feigned recognition as he gave him his name In return. "Basil Santolne Is better this morning," morn-ing," Blatchford announced. "I understood he was very comfortable comfort-able last evening," Eaton gald. "I have not seen either Miss Santolne or Mr. Avery, this morning." "I saw Basil Santolne the last thing last night," the other boasted. "He was very tired ; but when he was home, of course he wished me to be beside him for a time." "Of course," Eaton replied, as the other halted. There was a humility In the boast of this man's friendship for Santolne which stirred sympathy, almost pity. Eaton finished his breakfast but remained re-mained at the table while Blatchford, ho scarcely touched his food, continued con-tinued to boast, In his queer humility, of the blind man and of the blind man's friendship for him. He checked himself only when Harriet Santoine appeared In the doorway. He and Eaton at once were on their feet "My dear! He wants to see me now?" the tall man almost pleaded. "He wants me to be with him this morning?" "Of course, Cousin Wallace," the girl said gently, almost with compassion. com-passion. "You will excuse me then, sir," Blatchford said hastily to Eaton and hurried off. The girl gazed after him, and when she turned the next instant to Eaton her eyes were wet. "Good morning, Miss Santoine. You are coming to breakfast?" "Oh, no; I've had my breakfast; I was going out to see that thinps outside out-side the house have been goins on well since we have been away." "May I go with you while you do that?" Eaton tried to ask casually. Important to him as was the plan of the house. It was scarcely less essential es-sential for him to know the grounds. She hesitated. "I understand It's my duty at present pres-ent to stay wherever I may be put j but HI hardly run away from you while inside your own grounds." This did not seem to be the question ques-tion troubling her. "Very well," she suld at last. She was abstracted ai they passed through the hall and a man brought Eaton's overcoat and hat and a maid her coat Harriet led the way out to the terrace. The day was crip, but the breeze had lost the chill It had had earlier In the morning; the lake was free from Ice; only along the little projecting breakwaters break-waters which guarded the bluff against the washing of the waves, some Ice still clung, and this was rapidly melting. melt-ing. A graveled path led them around the south end of the house. Eaton saw at a little distance a powerful, strapping man, half-concealed though he did not seem to be hiding behind some bushes. The man might have passed for an under-gardener; under-gardener; but he was not working; and once before during their walk Eaton had seen another man, powerfully power-fully built as this one, who had looked keenly at him and then away quickly. quick-ly. Harriet flushed slightly as she saw that Eaton observed the man ; Eaton understood then that the man was a guard, one of several, probably, who had been put about the house to keep watch of him. Had Harriet Santolne understood his interest In the grounds as preparatory pre-paratory to a plan to escape, and had she therefore taken him out to show him the guards who would prevent him? He did not speak of the men, and neither did she; with her, he went on, silently, to the gardeners' cottages, where 6he gave directions concerning the spring work being done on the grounds. Then they went back to the house, exchanging for the first time between them ordinary Inanities. Inani-ties. She left him in the hall, saying she was going to visit her father. As Eaton stood, undecided where to go, a young woman crossed the main part of the hall, coming evidently evi-dently from outside the house she had on hat and Jacket and was gloved J she was approaching the doors of the room he Just had left, and so must pass -him." He stared at sight of her and choked ; then he controlled hlm- She Halted Suddenly As She Saw Him, and Grew Very Pale. self rigidly, waiting until she should see him. She halted suddenly as she saw him and grew very pale, and her gloved hands went swiftly to her breast and pressed against It ; she caught herself together and looked swiftly and fearfully about her and out Into the hall. Seeing no one but himself, she came a step nearer., "Hugh I" she breathed. Her surprise sur-prise was plainly greater than his own had been at sight of her ; but she checked herself again quickly and looked warningly back at the holl ; then she fixed on him her blue eyes which were very like Eaton's, though she did not resemble him closely In any other particular as though waiting his Instructions. "Stay where you are, Edith," he whispered. "If we hear anyone coming, com-ing, we are just passing each other In the hall." "I understand; of course, Hugh! But you you're here! In his house!" "Even lower, Edith ; remember I'm Eaton Philip Eaton." "Of course; I know; and I'm Miss Davis here Mildred Davis." "They let you come In and out like this as you want, with no one watching watch-ing you?" "No, no ; I do stenography for Mr. Avery sometimes, as I wrote you. That Is all. When he works here, I do his typing; and some even for Mr. Santoine San-toine himself. But I am not confidential con-fidential yet; they send for me whep they want me." "Then they sent for you today?" "No ; but they have Just got back, and I thought I would come to see if anything was wanted. But never mind about me; you how did you pet here? What are you rinlnc here?" "Yes; it was an attack. Th man in the car meant to rur Mr. Eaton down." I Jl TO bK CONTINUED.) |