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Show Elizabeth (Jordan SIS WN'U 6ervlc CHAPTER X Continued 14 At last a cheerful whistle in the lower regions drew him down a flight of stairs to what appeared to be an underground storeroom. Here a bulky, overalled Individual, looming large in the semi-darkness, stopped in his labor of pushing about some boxes and retarded re-tarded Laurie with surprise. "Are you the watchman?" asked the Inrter, briskly. "I am that," "Were you here Inst night?" "I was." "Was anyone else here?" "Divil a wan." "Did you hear any noise during the night?" "Divil a bit." "Were you asleep?" "I was," admitted the watchman, simply. His voice was Hibernian, and rich with tolerant good humor. "I want to make a trade with you." The newcomer held out his silk hat. "Will you give me your hat, or any old hat you've got around lie place, for this?" "I will," said the watchman calmly. Though good-humored, he seemed a man of few words. "And who might you be?" he added. "I came In last night with Mr. Shaw, and I spent the night here. When I woke up," added Laurie dryly, "I found that my host had moved." The watchman sadly shook his head. "You're a young lad," he said, with friendly sympathy. . ' 'TIs a pity you've got Into these habits." Laurie grinned at him. He had discovered dis-covered that his money, like his watch, was safe in his pockets. Taking out a hill, he showed it 'to his companion. "Do you like the looks of that?" he inquired. "I do,"' admitted the watchman warmly. - "Tell me all you know about Shaw, and take it for your trouble." "I will," promptly agreed the other, "but 'tis not much you'll get for your money, for 'tis little enough I .know. The man you're talkln' about, I suppose. sup-pose. Is the fat fella with eyes you could hong yer hat on, that had the back room on the ground floor." "That's the one." "Then all I know is, he moved In three days ago, and he moved out two hours ago. What lie did between times I don't know, but he paid for the room for a month In advance, so nobody's mournln' his loss." "Did he say why he was going, or where?" "Divil a word did he say. He was In a hurry, that lad. He had a gang of three men with him, and they had the place empty In ten minutes. 1 lent 'em a hand, an' he gave me a dollar, dol-lar, and that's the last I saw of him." A sudden thought struck the watch- man. "Where was you all the time?" hf asked with interest. "In the cellar." The watchman nodded, understanding. understand-ing. "You're too young for that sort of thing, me boy. Now, I'm no teetotaler moself," he went on aVgumentatively. "A glass once In a while Is all right. If a man knows whin to stop. But" "How about that hat?" Interrupted the restive victim of this homily. "Have you got one handy?" "T have." The watchman disappeared Into n unudnwy corner and returned with a nattered derby. Ati' a line grand hat.lt Is!" he urnesrly assured the newcomer, us lie handed it over.- t.nurie took- the hat and put It on tils head, where,, being too sn'.i.U for nun. it perched at a rakish angle. He dropped the bank note Into 'li!s own srtk hnt. and handed them to his companion, com-panion, who accepted then) without visible emotion. Kvidently, brief though his stay In the building had been. Herbert Kansome Shaw had accustomed ac-customed its watchman to surprises. Laurie's last glimpse' of the man as he hurried away showed him. with extreme ex-treme eflloionry and the swift simultaneous simul-taneous use of two well-trained bands, j purring the silk hat on his head and the bill In his pocket. Laurie rushed through the early L'ast side streets. He was not often abroad at this hour, and even in his anxiety It surprised him to discover how many were abroad so early In the morning. The streets seemed full of protly girls, hastening to factories and offices, Hnd of briskly stepping men and women, representing types that also would ordinarily catch the Httc-nUon of the young playwright, r.i.t now he bad nether thought ror eyes for them. 1 His urgent needs were first the assurance as-surance that Doris was safe, and next the privacy of his own rooms, a hath, nnd a change of clothing. Obviously, he could not present himself to Doris in the sketchy ensemble he presrnl-; presrnl-; pr : or could he? lie decided thst he could, and must. To remain in his present state of -suspense a moment longer than he need do was unthinkable. unthink-able. In a surprisingly short time he was In the studio building, facing the man Sam had called Henry, a yawning night elevator man who regarded him and his questions with a pessimism partly due to the lack of sleep and fatigue. These combined Influences led him to making short work of getting get-ting rid of this unkempt and unseasonable unseason-able caller. "No, sah," he said. "Miss Mayo don' receive no callers at dis yere hour. No, sah, Sam don' come on tell eight o'clock. No, sah, I cain't take no messages to no ladles what ain't out dey beds yit. I got to perteck dese yere folks. I has," he ended austerely. The caller peeled a bill from his ever-ready roll, and the face of the building's guardian angel changed and softened. "P'haps I could jes' knock on Mies Mayo's do', " he suggested after a thought-filled interval. "That's all I want," agreed Laurte. "Knock at her door and ask her If Mr. Devon may call at nine and take her out to breakfast. Tell her he has something very Important to aay to her." "Yaas, sah." The guardian was all humility. He accepted the bill, and almost simultaneously simul-taneously the elevator rose . out of 1 sight. The Interval before its return I was surprisingly short, but too long for the nerves of the caller. Laurie, pacing the lower hall, filled It wfth apprehensions and visions which drove the blood from his heart. He could have embraced Henry when the latter appeared, wearing an expansively reassuring re-assuring grin. "Miss Mayo she Bay, Yaas,' he briefly reported. Under the force of the nervous reaction re-action he experienced, Laurie actually actual-ly caught the man's arm. "She's there?" he jerked out. "You're sure of It?" "Yaas, sah." Henry spoke soothingly. sooth-ingly. By this time he had made a diagnosis of the caller's condition which agreed with that of the night-watchman night-watchman Laurie had just Interviewed. Inter-viewed. "She say, 'Yaas,' he repeated. "1 done say what you tol' me, and she say, 'Tell de genman, Yaas,' jes like dat." . "All right." Laurie nodded and strode off. For the first time he was breathing naturally and freely. She was there. She was safe. In a little more than an hour he would see her. In the meantime his urgent needs were a bath and a change of clothing. As soon as he was dressed he would go back to the studio building and keep watch In the corridors until she was ready. Then, after breakfast, he would personally conduct her to the security of Louise Ordway's home. Louise need not see her, If she did nrit feel ,up to It, but she would surely sure-ly give ber asylum after hearing Laurie's Lau-rie's experiences of the night. That was his plan. It seemed n good one. He did not admit even to himself that under the air of sangfroid sang-froid he wore as a garment, every Instinct In-stinct In him was crying out for the sound of Doris' voice. Also, as he hurried along, he was conscious that a definite change was taking place In his attitude toward Herbert Kansome Shaw. Slowly, reluctantly, but fully, he hnd now accepted the fact that "Kertie" represented a force that must be reckoned with. lie Inserted the latch-key Into the door of his apartment with an inward prayer that Bangs would not be visible, vis-ible, and for a moment he hoped it bad been granted. But when he entered en-tered their common dressing-room be found his chum there, In the last stages of his usual careful toilet. He greeted Laurie without surprise or comment, in the detached, absent manner man-ner he had assumed of late, anil Laurie Lau-rie hurried into the bathroom and turned ou the hot water, glad of the excuse to escape even a tete-a-tete. That greeting of Bangs' added the final notes to the minor symphony life was playing for him this morning. As he lay back in the hot water, relaxing relax-ing his stiff, bruised body, the thought came that possibly he and Hodney were really approaching the final breaking point. Bangs was not ordinarily or-dinarily a patient chap. He was too Impetuous nnd high-strung for that. But he had been wonderfully patient with this friend of his. heart. If It were true that the friendship was dying dy-ing under the strain put upon it, nnd Laurie knew how possible tills was, and how swift and Intense were Bangs' reactions, life henceforth, however how-ever full It might he, would lack an element that had been singularly vital nnd comforting. lie tried to think of what future days would be without Bungs' exuberant personality to fill theu with work and color; but ha could not picture them ; and as the effort merely added to the gloom that enreloped him. he abandoned It and again gave himself up to thoughts of Doris. As he hurried into his clothes u strong temptation came to him to tell Bangs the whole story. Theu Bangs would understand everything, and he, Laurie, would have the benefit of Rodney's advice and help In untying Doris' tangle. Doris! Again she swam into the foreground of his consciousness with a vividness that made his senses tingle. He was sitting on a low chair, lacing his shoes, and his lingers shook as he finished the task. He dressed with almost frantic haste, urged on by a fear that, despite his efforts, was shaping Itself Into a mental panic. Then, hair-brushes In hand, he faced his familiar mirror, and recoiled with an exclamation. Dorl3 was not there, but her window win-dow was, and hanging from Its center catch was something bright that caught his eye and Instantaneous recognition. rec-ognition. It was a small Roman scarf, with a narrow, vivid stripe. CHAPTER XI Doris Takes a Journey Within five minutes he was In the studio building across the square, frantically punching the elevator bell. Outwardly he showed no signs of the anxiety that racked him, but presented present-ed to Sam, when that appreciative youth stopped his elevator at the ground floor, the sartorial perfection which Sam always vastly admired and sometimes dreamed of Imitating. But for such perfection Sam had no eyes today. At this early hour It was not much more than half-past eight he had brought down only two passengers, and no one but Laurie was waiting for the upward Journey. When the Doris Was Not There, but Her Window Win-dow Was, and Hanging From Its Center Was Something Bright That Caught His Eye and Instantaneous Recognition. two tenants of the building had walked far. enough toward its front entrance to be out of earshot, Sam grasped Laurie's arm and almost dragged him Into the car. As he did so, he hissed four words: "She gone, Mist' Devon !" "Gone! Where? When?" Laurie had not expected this. He realized now that he should have done so.' His failure to take in the possibility possi-bility of her going was part of his infernal in-fernal optimism, of his inability eveu now to take her situation at its face value. Sam was answering his questions ques-tions : '"Bout eight, Jes' after Henry went and I come on. An aut'moblle stop in front de do', on' dat man wld de eyes he come in. I try stop him fum takin' de car, but he push me on one side an' order me up, like he was Wilson hlsself. So I took him to de top flo'. But when we got 'dere an' he went to Miss Mayo's do', I jes' kep' de car right dere an' watch him." "Good boy. What happened?" "He knock an' nuflin' happen. Den he call out, 'Doris, Doris.' jes' like dat, an' she come an' talk to him ; but she didn't open de do'." "Could you hear what else he said?' "No, sal- After dat he whisper to her, hissin' like a snake." Laurie set his teeth. Even Sam felt the ophidian in Shaw. "Go on," he ordered. "Den I reckon Miss Mayo she pat on a coat, an' dat man wait. I fought he was gwine leave, an' I sho' was glad. But he stood dere, waltln' an' grinnin' nuff to split his baid." Laurie recognized the grin. " 'Bout two-three minutes she come out," Sam went on. "She had a big fur coat an' a veil on. She look awful aw-ful pale, an' when dey got In de el'va-tor el'va-tor she didn' say a, word. Dey was'n' nobody else in de car, an' It seem lak I couldn't let her go off nohow, without with-out sayin' sotnethin'. So I say, 'You gwine away, Miss Mayo?' De man he look at me mighty cold an' hard, an' she only nod." "Didn't she speak at all?' "No, sah. She ain't say a word. She Jes' stood stiff an' still, an' he took her out to de car, an' dey bote got in." "Was It a limousine, a closed car?" "Yaas, sah." "Did the man himself drive It?" "No, sah. He sat Inside wld Miss Mayo. The man what drove it was younger." "What did he look like?" "I couldn't see much o' him. He had a big coat on, an' a cap. But his hair was yallah." Laurie recognized the secretary. "Which way did they go?" "East." They were standing on the top landing by this time, and LaurU strode forward. "I'll take a look around her room Perhaps she left some message." Sam accompanied him. and thong), he had not desired this continued companionship, Laurie found a certain cer-tain solace In It. In ha humble way this black boy was Doris' friend. He was doing his small part now to help her, If, as he evidently suspected, there was something sinister In her departure. Entering the familiar studio, Laurie looked around It with a pang. Unlike the quarters of Shaw, it remained unchanged. un-changed. The room, facing north as it did, looked n little cold in the early light, but it was still stamped with the Impress of its former occupant. The flowers he had given her only yesterday yes-terday hung, their heads in modest mod-est welcome, and half a dozen eye-flashes revealed half a dozen homely little details . that were full of reassurance. Here, open and face down on the reading-table, was a book she might have dropped that minute. There was the long mirror before which she brushed her wonderful wonder-ful hair nnd, yes, the silver-backed brushes with which she brushed it. On the writing-table were a pencil and a torn sheet of paper, as If she had Just dashed off a hurried note. In short, everything In the room suggested that the owner, whose presence pres-ence Still hung about It, might return at any Instant. And yet, there In the window, where he had half Jokingly told her to place It, hung the brilliant symbol of danger which he himself had selected. He walked over and took It from the latch. In doing this, he discovered discov-ered that only half the scarf hung there, and that one end was Jagged, as If roughly and hastily cut off. He put the scarf into his pocket. As he did so, his pulses leaped. Tinned to its folds was a bit of paper, so small and soft that even the Inquisitive Inquisi-tive eye of Sam, following his every motion, fulled to detect It. Laurie turned to the black boy. "We'd better get out of here," he suggested, trying to speak carelessly and lending the way as he spoke. "Miss Mayo may be back at any moment." mo-ment." Sam's eyes bulged till they rivaled Shaw's. "You don' t'lnlt she gone?" he stammered. stam-mered. "Why should we think she has gone?" Laurie tried to grin at him. "Perhaps she's merely taking an automobile au-tomobile ride, or an early train for a day in the country.. Certainly nothing here looks as If she had gone away for good. People usually pack, don't they?" Sam dropped his eyes. His face, human till now, took on its familiar, sphinxlike look. He followed "Mist' Devon" into the elevator in silence, and started the car on Its downward journey. But as his passenger was about to depart with a nod, Sam presented pre-sented him with a reflection to takti away with him. (TO BE CONTINUED.) i |