LENOX TIME TABLE, LENOX, IOWA SHIF SSAN <•> "* Sara e hopeless. She confessed how she SYNOPSIS ! The youthful and comely "Widder" Harcia Howe has her late husband s niece, Sylvia Hayden, living with Her A stranger, exhausted, finds his tvay to Manila's home. His powerboat ran aground In the fog. Secretly, he asks Marcia to hide a package containing jewelry. She 3oes so. There comes news of a jewel robbery nearby. The stranger gives ais name as Stanley Heath. Sylvia Blscovers the jewels, and Is sure Heath IB a robber. Marcia feels that she has too deep an interest In her ruest, but is powerless to overcome It. Heath wires "Mrs. S. C. Heath," New York, saying he Is safe. He also wires a man named Currier to -ome at once. Sylvia, In her room, oedecks herself with the jewels. At Marcia's approach she hides them there. Heath asks Marcla ..to bring them to him. They are gone! Sylvia secretly puts back the gems. Elisha Winslow, the sheriff, by accident, flnds the jewels, and has no doubt they are the stolen gems, and Heath Is a thief. Saying nothing, but re, placing the jewels, he makes plans. I with Bleazer Crocker, for arresting IHeath. Currier arrives. Marcia over- Ihears Heath tell how he got the Igems, and is forced to believe him lEullty. Currier, with Marcia, investigates the hiding place—and finds the gems! He returns to New York ivith them. His references to "Mrs. Heath" convince Marcia that her I tender dream has been a foolish one. lElisha and Eleazer come to arrest rHeath. The jewels, of course, are I not found, and the sheriff leaves discomfited. Heath compels Marcia to I admit she loves him, but she insists [this must be the end of their asso- I elation, and he, thinking she will not Iface the "disgrace" of his confessing I tils theft of the jewels, reproaches land leaves her, giving himself Into (custody of the sheriff. you?" he presently Inquired. "I wrote you to cornel" "Well, at least you led me to suppose you'd like It if I were here," persisted Horatio. "Toward the bottom of page two you said: 'I am positively homesick'; and In the middle of the back of page three you wrote: 'It seems years since I've seen you.'" "What If I did?" answered the girl with a disdainful shrug. Nevertheless the dimples showed In her cheeks. "And that isn't all," Horatio went on. "At the end of page five you wrote: 'Would that you were here' 1" Sylvia bit her lip. "That was only a figure of speech —what Is called poetic license." • "Then you didn't mean it when you said you wished I was here." Horatio was obviously disappointed. had struggled to"conceal her fee'f- "Why, of course I am pleased to see you, Horatio. It Is very nice CHAPTER X—Continued —n— They followed liim to the door. It was then that Marcia sprang | forward' and caught Elisha's arm "Where are you taking him I Elisha?" she demanded, a catch in j her voice. "Remember, Mr. Heath I has been 111. You must not risk his [getting cold or suffering any dls I comfort." "You need have no worries on Ithat score, Marcia," replied the iBheriff kindly, noticing the distress |ln her face. "I'll look out for'him.' "Where is he going?" "To my house for the present,' Sllslin answered. "I've a comfort able spare room an* I flgger to pui him In it 'til I've questioned him an' verified his story. "He's a friend of yours—I ain' [forgettin 1 that, I shall treat him •cordin'ly, Marcla." "Thank you,.-Elisha—thank you a hundred times." There was nothing more to be said. Heath bowed once again and the two men walked down to the float where they clambered with the luggage Into Elishu's dory and put out Into the channel. Sylvia loitered to wave her hand and watch them row away, but Marcia, as If unable to bear the sight, waited for no further farewell. But by noon she was, to outward appearances, entirely herself. She had not been able, to be sure, to banish her'pallor or the traces of sleeplessness; but she had her emotions sufficiently under control to talk pleasantly, if not gaily. That day and the next passed In much the same strained fashion. It was not until the third morn- Ing that the barriers between the two collapsed. Marcia had gone Into the living room to writu a letter. She sat down before the desk and started I to take up her pen when Sylvia [heard her utter a cry. "What's the matter, dear?" called [the girl, hurrying into the other I room. "Oh, how could tie I" moaned the |woman. "How could he be so cruel!" "What has happened, Marcia?" "Stanley—he has left a check— noney—thrown it in my face! And did It so gladly—because 1 loved He knew that. Yet he could |eave this—pay me—as if I were a ommon servant. I had rather be fetruck me — a hundred times frather." The girl took the check. It was filled out in Stanley I Heath's clear, strong hand and I was for the sum of a hundred dol- I lurs. "How detestable of him 1" she J exclaimed. "Tell me, Marcia—what happened between you and Mr. Heath? You quarreled—of course I know that. But why—why? I have [not wanted tc ask, but now—" 'I'll tell you everything, Sylvia. I'd rather you knew. I thought at Brat I could keep It to myself, but I cannot. I need you to help me, | dear." Marcla unfolded the story of her Ib'ind faith in Stanley Heath; her love for him—a love she could .neither resist nor control—a love U* h*<2 known from the first to ngs; how he himself had resisted a similar attraction In her; how at last he had discovered her secret and forced her to betray it. "Of course I realized we could lot go on," she explained bravely. 'That we loved one another was calamity enough. All that remained was for him to go away and forget me—return to his wife, his home, and his former life. Soon, If he lonestly tries, this Infatuation will paas and everything will be as be- 'ore. Men forget more easily than women. Absence, too, will help." "And you, Marcla?" "I cannot give up my love. It Is all I have now. Oh, I do not mean to mourn over It, pity myself, make life unhappy. Instead, I shall be glad, thankful. You will see. This experience will make every day of living richer. You need have no fears for me, Sylvia. You warned me, you know," concluded she with a pathetic little smile. "1 was a brute I I ought to have shielded you more," the girl cried. "I could have, had I realized. Well, I can yet do something, thank heaven. Give me that check." "What do you mean to do?" "Return it, of course—return It before Stanley Heath leaves town. I'll take It over to Elisha Winslow's now, this minute." "Don't say anything harsh, Sylvia. Please do not blame him, or—" "I'll wring his neck!" "Oh, please—please dear—for my sake! I can't let you go if you go in that spirit," pleaded Marcia in alarm. "There, there—you need not worry for fear I shall maltreat your Romeo, richly as he deserves it," was the response. "I could kill him —but I won't—because of you. Nevertheless, I warn you that If I get the chance I shall tell him what I think of him. He is terribly to Wnme and ought to realize it. No married man has any business playing around with another woman." "I am half afraid to let you go, Sylvia." "You don't trust me? Don't you believe I love you?" "I am afraid you love me too much, dear." "I do love you, Marcla. I never dreamed I could care so intensely for anyone I have known for so short a time. What you did for my mother alone would make me love you. But aside from gratitude there are other reasons. I love you for your own splendid self, dear. Please do not fear to trust me. I promise you I will neither be unjust nor bitter." "Take the check then and go. I wish I were to see him." "Well, you're not! Let him do the,explalnlng and apologizing. Let him grovel at your feet. That's what he ought to do!" "You won't tell him that." "I don't know what I shall tell him." "Please Sylvia! You promised, remember." "Don't fret. Some of the mad will be taken out of me before I see Mr, Heath. Kiss me and wish me luck, Marcia. You do believe I will try to be wise, don't you?" "Yes, dear. Yes!" "That's right. You really can trust me, you know. I'm not so bad aa I sound." Tucking the check Into the wee pocket of her sweater, Sylvia caught up her pert beret and perched It upon her curls. "So long!" she called, looking back over her shoulder as she opened the door. "So long, Marcia! I'll be back as soon as ever I can." The haste with which she disappeared suddenly precipitated her Into the arms of a young man who stood upon the steps preparing to knock. "Hortie Fuller," cried Sylvia breathlessly. "Hortie! Where on earth did you come from?" Her arms closed about his neck and he had kissed her twice before she swiftly withdrew, rearranging her curls and saying coldly: "1 cannot imagine what brought you here, Horatio." CHAPTER XI "I can't Imagine," repeated Sylvia, still very rosy and flustered, but with her most magnificent air, "what brought you to Wilton—I really cannot." "Can't you?" grinned Horatio cheerfully. "No, I cannot." From his superior height of six- feet-two, he looked down at her meager five feet, amusement twinkling in bis eyes. "You wrote me to come, didn't of you to come to the Cape to meet my nunt and—" "Darn your aunt!" he scowled. "I didn't come to see her. I am not interested in aunts." "Take care! I happen to be very keen on this aunt of mine. If she didn't like you, you might get sent home. Don't be horrid, Hortie. I truly am glad you've come. You must make allowance for my being surprised. I haven't got over it yet. How in the world did you contrive to get away at this season? And what sort of a trip did you have?" "Swell! I stopped overnight In New York at the Gardners. Mother wanted me to deliver a birthday cake to Estelle, who, you may remember, Is the mater's god-daughter. She's a pippin, too. I hadn't seen her since she graduated from Vassar." Sylvia listened. She did not need to be told aboul the Gardners. They had visited Horatio's family mure than once and rumor had li the elders of both families would be delighted were the young peo pie to make a match of it. "I'm surprised you did not stay longer In New York," Sylvia ob served, gazing reflectively at her white shoe. ] "New York wasn't my objective. I came on business, you see. Dad gave me two months off so I could get married." Sylvia jumped. "I was not aware you were engaged," murmured she in a formal, far-away tone. "I'm not," came frankly from Horatio Junior, "But I'm going to be. In fact I chance to have the ring with me this minute. Want to see it?" "I always enjoy looking at jewels," was her cautious retort. Horatio felt of his pockets. "Where on earth did I put that thing?" he muttered. "Hope I haven't lost it. Oh, here it Is." He took out a tiny velvet case and sprang the catch. "Oh, Hortie! Isn't it beautiful!" Sylvia cried. ''It fairly takes away my breath." '"Try it on." She shook her head. "It wouldn't fit me. My hands are too small. Well, I suppose I might try it to please you. But I know It will be too large." Slie slipped It on her finger. "Why. It does fit. How odd!" here I am loitering and alnawrt tor- jetting my errand. Come! We musi lurry. I've got • to go to town. Want to row over?" "You bet your life I Show me the boat." Leading the way to the yellow lory, she took her place opposite ilm and he pushed off. As they sat facing one another, her eyeg roamed over his brown suit; his matching tie, handkerchief and socks; his immaculate' inen; his general air of careful grooming, and she cotild not but admit he wore his clothes well He was not a small town product. Three years In an eastern preparatory school, followed by four years of college life had knocked all that might have been provincial out of Horatio Junior. She suddenly became aware that the boat was being guided by a master hand. "Why, Hortie Fuller, I had no idea you could row like this!" exclaimed she with admiration. "Wherever did you learn to pull such an oar?" "Varsity crew." "Of course. I had forgotten," she apologized, her eyes following as with each splendid stroke the craft shot forward. Although the oarsman Ignored h.er approbation he was not unmindful of it. "Where do we land?" he asked "Anywhere." He bent forward and with one final magnificent sweep sent the nose of the dory out of the channel. "Come on," he called, leaping to the beach. "But—but, Hortie—I can't get ashore here, I'll wet my white shoes." "Jump." "It's too far. Pull the boat higher on the sand." "Not on your life. Jump, darling! I'll catch you." "I can't. It's too far." "Nonsense! Where's your sporting blood? Don't be afraid. I'm right here." "Suppose you shouldn't catch Wrap-Around Makes Good Utility Frock PATTERN SS.10 me?" "But I shall." He would. She was certain of It. Still she wavered. "I don't want to jump," she pouted. "Let Me Co, Hortie! Let Me Got" "Looks rather weM on, doesn't It?" was his comment. "It Is a beautiful ring." Horatio, standing behind her, twice extended hie arms as If to gather her Into them and twice withdrew them, deciding the action to be premature. At length with a determined squaring of his shoulders, he locked his hands behind him and stood looking on while she continued to twist the ring this way and that. "Well." yawned he after an interval, "I suppose I may as well put it back in the box." "Don't you think it would be wiser If I took care of It for you, Hortie?" suggested she demurely. "You are dreadfully careless. Only a moment ago you had no idea where the ring was. If it is on my finger you'll know exactly." "Bully idea! So I shall! Now tell me where you're off to. You were in a frightful hurry when you burst through that door." "So I was," agreed Sylvia. "And "You'll have to. Come on, Beautiful. You're wasting time." "I think you are perfectly horrid," she flung out as she sprang forward. An Instant later she was In his arms and tight in a grip she knew herself powerless to loosen. "Let me go, Hortie I Let me go 1" she pleaded. "I shall, sweetheart. All in good time. Before I set you free, though, we must settle one trivial point. Are we engaged or are we not?" She made no answer. "If we're not," he went on, "I intend to duck you In the water. If we are, you shall tell me you love me and go free." A swift, shy smile illuminated her face. "I—I—don't want to be ducked, Hortie," she murmured, raising her arms to his neck. "You precious thing! You shan't be. Now the rest of it. Say you love me." "I guess you know that." "But I wish to hear you say It." "I—I—think I do." "That's a half-hearted statement." "I—I—know I do, Hortie." "Ah, that is better. And 1 love you Sylvia. Loving you is an old, old story with me—a sort of habit. I shall never change. You are too much a part of me, Sylvia. Now pay the boatman and you shall go. One Is too cheap. Two is misery. The fare is three. I won't take less." "I consider your methods despicable," announced the girl when at last he reluctantly put her down on her feet. "You blackmailed me." "I know my Sylvia," he countered. "Perhaps you'd rather I trudged back to New York tomorrow and offered the ring to Estelle." "Silly! I was only fooling," she protested quickly, linking her arm in his. "This ring would never fit Estelle, dearest. Her hands are tremendous. Didn't you ever notice them? They are almost as large as a man's hands. I never saw such hands." "She's an awful nice girl Just the same." "1 don't doubt that. Come. We must quit fooling now and hurry or we shall never gee home. Marcla will be frantic.'" "Marcla?" "My aunt. I have so much to tell you I hardly know where to begin," sighed Sylvia. "It is a long story. You see Marcla haa fallen In love with a robber." "A robber? Your aunt?" "Uh-huh. I know it sounds odd, but you will understand it better after you have heard the details," nodded Sylvia. "This man, a Jewel thief, came to our house one day shipwrecked and hurt, so we took him In. We didn't know then, of course, that he was a thief. Afterward, when we did, he was sick and we hadn't the heart to turn him out. In fact we couldn't have done it anyway. He was too fasclnat- ing. He was one of the most fa*, clnating men you ever saw." 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