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Show &e MYSTERY" Grace Livirvgsforvllin Lufz XuTHOR "riARClA SCHUYLER" "PJIOEBf DEAMEl" ; "DAWrj Of THC MORNING " ETC. : ILLUSTRATION 7t A (V A r7?J a SYNOPSIS. Tyron Dunham, Junt nlltrhted from a trtiln. 1h approimmd hy u beautiful c?irl who AHkn his jjrotoftlon, filie la In fear of pursuit, hut declines to K'v" tho cause of her dim i .-h-s. Dunham takes ht:r to 1ls home anil In the absence of his mother moth-er and slstt-r borrows a hat and cloak for her. He takes her to a dinner party t the home of a friend and Klveu her name as Alary Remington. CHAPTER II. Continued. "We Khali simply keep you playing until you drop from weariness," she announced ecstatically, when the last walling, sobbing, soothing chord had tlied away; and the other ladies murmured, mur-mured, "How delightful!" and whispered whis-pered their approval. The girl smiled and rippled Into a Chopin Valse, under cover of which those who cared to could talk In low tones. Afterwards the musician dashed into tho brilliant movement of a Beethoven Beet-hoven Sonata. It was just as she was beginning Rubinstein's Ru-binstein's extiu'.sRa - tone'" por.rr.'t. KanA'miol-O.stvow, that the gentlemen' came in. ' ' Tryon Dunham had had his much de-nired de-nired talk with the famous judge, but H had not been about law. They had been drawn together by mutual consent, each discovering that the oLher was watching tho young stranger as she left the dining room. "She is charming." said the old man, smiling into the face of the younger. "Is she an intimate friend?" "I I hope so," stammered Dunham. "That is, I should like to have her consider me so." "Ah!" said the old man, looking deep into the other's eyes with a kindly J"roile, as if he were recalling pleas- ant experiences of his own. "You are T ( a fortunate fellow. I hope you may ' succeed hi making her think so. Do you know, she Interests me more than I , most young women, and in some way f 1 cannot disconnect her with an oc- currence which happened in my office V this afternoon." The young man showed a deep interest inter-est in the matter, and the judge told the story again, this time more in detail. de-tail. They drew a little apart from the Test of the men. The host, who had been warned by his wife to give t voung Dunham an opportunity to talk Vith the judge, saw that her plans : ere -succeeding admirably. , When the music began in the other I im the judge paused, a moment to i en, and then went on with his Lea )y -v w r - 'There Is a freight elevator just opposite op-posite that left door of my office, and somehow I cannot but think it had something to dowith the girl's disap-' disap-' pearance, although the door was closed and the elevator was down on the cellar floor all the time,, as nearly - as I can find out." The young man asked eager ques-ions, ques-ions, feeling in his heart that the story might in some way explain the mystery of the -young woman in the .--v-i-'!!tLr--Kr5ra. f "Suppose you stop In the office to- morrow," said the judge. "Perhaps you'll get a glimpse of her, and then 4 ill fie Drew a Little Apart From the Rest. ber ni3 out in the statement that she's like your friend. By the way. who is making such exquisite music? Suppose we go and investigate. Mr. Bowman, will you excuse us if we follow fol-low the ladies? We are anxious to hear the music at closer range." The other men rose and followed. The girl did not pause or look up as they came in, but played on, while the company listened with the most rapt and wondering look. She was .- playing with an emprcssement which could not fail to command attention. Trvon Dunham, standing just behind the judge, was transfixed with amaze- merit. That t Mnif icate girl could bring forth such an e-itrancing volume of fcound from the fnstrument a i, "rpa.t surprise. That slit wSTo quisite a.i artist fUed hln'i with a kind1 of intoxicating VlaMon--U was ag though she belonged to lilw . At latit she played Liszt's iM-.!iw llurgarinn Rhapsody, her slendT bands taking the tremendous chor" -and octave runH with a precision f rapidity that seemed inspired. The final crash came in a shower of liquid jewels of sound, and then she turned to look at him, her one friend in that company of strangers. He could see that she had been playing play-ing under a heavy strain. Her face looked weary and flushed, and her eyes were brilliant with feverish excitement. excite-ment. Those eyes seemed to be pleading plead-ing with him now to set her free from the kindly scrutiny of these good-hearted, good-hearted, curious strangers. They gathered gath-ered about her In delight, pouring their questions and praises upon her. "Where did you study? With some great master, 1 am sure. Tell us all about yourself. We are dying to know, and will sit at your feet with great delight while you discourse." Tryon Dunham ' interrupted these disquieting questions, by drawing his watch from his pocket with apparent hasty remembrance, and giving a well feigned exclamation of dismay. . J.Tm sorry, Mrs. Bowman; it is too bad to interrupt this delightful evening," eve-ning," he apologized; "but I'm afraid if Miss Remington feels that she must take the next train, we shall have to make all possible speed. Miss Remington, Rem-ington, can you get your wraps on In three minutes? Our carriage is probably prob-ably at the door now." With a look of relief, yet keeping up her part of dismay over the lateness of the hour, the girl sprang to her feet, and hurried away to get her wraps, in spite of her protesting hostess. Mrs. Bowman was held at bay with sweet expressions of gratitude for the pleasant pleas-ant entertainment. The great black picture hat was settled becomingly on the small head, the black cloak thrown over her gown, and the gloves fitted on hurriedly to hide the fact that they were too large. "And whom did you say you studied with?" asked the keen hostess, determined deter-mined to be able to tell how great a guest she had harbored for the evening. eve-ning. "Oh, is Mr. Dunham calling me, Mrs. Bowman? You will excuse me for hurrying off, won't you? And it has been so lovely of you to ask me perfectly per-fectly delightful to find friends this way when I was a stranger." She hurried toward the stairway and down the broad steps, and the hostess had no choice but to follow her. The other guests crowded out into tho hall to bid them good-by and to tell the girl how much they had enjoyed the music. Mrs. Blackwell insisted upon kissing the smooth cheek of the young musician, and whispered in her ear: "You play very nicely, my dear. I should like to hear you again some time." The kindness in her tone almost brought a rush of tears to the eyes of the weary, anxious girl. CHAPTER.III. Dunham hurried her off amid the good-bys of the company, and in. a moment more they were shut into the semi-darkness of the four-wheeler and whirled from the too hospitable door. As soon as the door was shut, the girl began to tremble. "Oh, we ought not to have done that!" she exclaimed with a shiver of recollection. "They were so very kind. It was dreadful to impose upon them. But you were not to blame. It was my fault. It was very kind of you." "We did not impose upon them!" he exclaimed peremptorily. "You are my friend, and that was all that we claimed. For the rest, you have certainly cer-tainly made good. Your wonderful music! How I wish I might hear more of it some time!" The carriage paused to let a trolley pass, and a strong arc-light beat in upon the two. A passing 6tranger peered curiously at them, and the girl shrauk back in fear. It was momentary, momen-tary, but the minds of the two were brought back to the immediate necessities neces-sities of the occasion. "Now, A'hat may I do for you?" asked Dunham in a quiet, business-like tone, as if it were his privilege and right to do all that was to be done. "Have you thought where you would like to go?" "I have not been able to do much thinking. It required all my wits to act with the. present. But I know that I must not be any further trouble to you. You have done more already than anyone could expect. If you can have the carriage stop in some quiet, out-of-the-way street where I shall not be noticed, I will get out and relieve you. If I hadn't been so frightened at first, I should have had more sense than to burden you this way. I hope some day I shall be able to repay your kindness, though I fear it is too great ever to repay." "Please don't talk In that way," said he protestingly. "It has been a pleasure pleas-ure to do the little that I have done, and you have more than repaid it by the delight you have given me and my friends. I could not think of leaving you until you are out of your trouble, and if you will', only give me a little "hint of how to help, I will do my utmost ut-most for you. Are you quite sure you were followed Don't you think you could trust nujijjough tp- tell me a lie ' e more aboi e msut'--"" ilstressea pleasant to confide In an utter stranger. I will not ask you to tell me. I will try to think for you. Suppose we go to the station and get you a ticket to somewhere. Have you any preference? You can trust me not to tell anyone where you have gone, can you not?" There was a kind rebuke in his tone, and her eyes, as she lifted them to his face, were full of tears. "Oh, I do trust you!" she cried, distressed. dis-tressed. "You must not think that, but you do not understand." Then she added suddenly: "But I cannot buy a ticket. I have no money with me, and I " "Don't think or that for an Instant I will gladly supply your need. A little lit-tle loan should not distress you." "But I do not know when I shall be able to repay it," she faltered, "unless" "un-less" she hastily drew off her glove and slipped a glittering ring from her finger "unless you will let this pay for it. I do not like to trouble you so, but the stone is worth a good deal." "Indeed," he protested, "I couldn't think of taking your ring. Let me do this. It is such a small thing. I shall never miss it. Let it rest until you are out of your trouble, at least." "Please!" she insisted, holding out the ring. "I shall get right out of this carriage unless you do." "But perhaps 6ome one gave you the ring, and you are attached to it." "My father," she answered briefly, "and he would want me to- use it this way." She pressed the ring into his hand almost impatiently. "I will keep it until you want it j again," he said kindly. "You need -not do that, for I shall not claim it," she declared. "You are at liberty to sell it. I know it is worth a good deal." "I shall certainly keep it until I am sure you do not want it yourself," he repeated. "Now let' us talk about this journey of yours. We are almost at . Sat Erect, Every Nerve Strained. the station. Have you any preference as to where you go? Have you friends to whom you could go?" She shook her head. "There are trains to New York every hour almost." "Oh, no!" she gasped in a frightened tone. And to Washington often." "I should rather not go to Washington," Washing-ton," she breathed again. "Pittsburgh, Chicago?" he hazarded. "Chicago will do," she asserted with relief. Then the carriage stopped before be-fore the great station. He hurried her through, the station and up to the ladies' waiting room, where he found a quiet corner and a large rocking-chair, in which he placed her so that she might look out of the great window upon the panorama of the evening street, and yet be thor-ougly thor-ougly screened from all intruding glances by the big leather and brass screen of the "ladies' bootblack." He was gone fifteen minutes, during which the girl sat quietly in her chair, yet alert, every nerve strained. At any moment the mass of faces she was watching might reveal one whom she dreaded to 6ee, or a detective might place his hand upon her shoulder with a quiet "Come with me." When Dunham came back, the nervous nerv-ous start she gave showed him how tense and anxious had been her mind. He studied her lovely face under the great hat, and noted the dark shadows beneath her eyes. He felt that he must do something to relieve her. It was unbearable to him that this young girl should be adrift, friendless, and apparently a victim to some terrible fear. Drawing up a chair beslds her, ha began talking about her ticket. "You must remember I was utterly at your mercy," she smiled sadly. "I simply had to let you help me." I "I should be glad to pay double for the pleasure you have given me in allowing al-lowing me to help you," he said. Just at that moment a boy in a blue uniform planted a sole-leather suitcase suit-case at his feet, and exclaimed: "Here you are, Mr. Dunham. Had a fierce time findin' you. Thought you said you would be by the elevator door." "So I did," confessed the young man, "I fildn't think you had time to get down yet. Well, you found me anyhow, any-how, Harkness." The boy took the 6ilver given him, touched his hat, and sauntered off. "You see," explained Dunham, "it wasn't exactly the thing for you to b traveling without a bit of baggage. I thought it might help them to trace you if you really were being followed. So I took the liberty of phoning over to the clubhouse and telling the boy to bring down the suitcase that I left there yesterday. I don't exactly know what's in it. I had the man pack It and send it down to me, thinking I might stay all night at the club. Then I went home, after all, and forgot to take It along. It probably hasn't anything t very appropriate for a lady's costume, but there may be a hair-brush and some soap and handkerchiefs. And, anyhow, any-how, if you'll accept it, it'll be something some-thing for you to hitch on to. One feels a little lost even for one night without with-out a rag one can call one's own except ex-cept a Pullman towel. I thought It might give you the appearance of a regular traveler, you know, and not a runaway." He tried to make her laugh about it, but her face was deeply serious as she looked up at him. "I think this is the kindest and most thoughtful thing you have done yet," she said. "I don't see how I can, ever, ever thank you!" "Don't try," he returned gaily. "There's your train being called. We'd better go right out and make you comfortable. com-fortable. You are beginning to be very tired." She did not deny it, but rose to follow fol-low him, scanning the waiting room with one quick, frightenedy look. An obsequious porter at the gate seized the suitcase and led them In state to the Pullman. The girl found herself established In the little drawing room compartment, and her eyes gave him thanks again, She knew the seclusion and the opportunity oppor-tunity to lock the compartment door would give her relief from the constant con-stant fear that an unwelcome face might at any moment appear beside her. "The conductor on this train is an old acquaintance of mine," he explained ex-plained as that official came through the car. "I have taken this trip with him a number of times. Just sit down a minute. I am going to ask him to look out for you and see that no one annoys you." The burly official looked grimly over his glasses at the sweet face under the big black hat, while Tryon Dunham explained: ex-plained: "She's a, friend of mine. I hope you'll be good to her." In answer, an-swer, he nodded grim assent with -a smileless alacrity which was nevertheless neverthe-less satisfactory and comforting. Then the young man walked through the train to interview the porter and the newsboy, and in every way to arrange for a pleasant journey for one who three hours before had been unknown to him. I When he returned to her he found the shades closely drawn and the girl sitting in the sheltered corner of the sectics, where she could not be seen from the aisle, but where she could watch In the mirror the approach of anyone. She welcomed him with a smile, but instantly urged him to leave the train, lest he be carried away. He laughed at her fears, and told her there was plenty of time. Even after the train had given its preliminary prelimi-nary shudder, he lingered to tell her that she must be sure to let him know by telegraph if she needed any further help; and at last swung himself him-self from the platform after the train was in full motion. (TO BE CONTINUED.) |