character of a young lawyer on a va
cation," advised the sleuth. "Get in
with the Clares. They ,won't for a
moment suspect a chipper, honest
faced young fellow like you. There's
" a girl in the family; you ought to
take with the girl."
"The poor fellow's sister? I don't
A like it!" observed Willis.
w "There's the element of right and
justice as well, I may remind you,"
observed the detective tersely.
"Come, don t be squeamish. The
successful lawyer is half a detective,
any how, and the experience will put
a new edge to your wits.
"All right. I'll try it to please, the
firm, somewhat reluctantly :on
sented Willis, "although I don't think
I have the detective instinct in any
sense of the word. Bet III bungle!"
And now a week had gone by at
Durham and Willis had smashed his
picture. All he said aboift himself
he believed. He had acted an un
manly part He had been welcomed
with open arms by the good people of
. Durham, who saw in his face only
truth and honor. He had met Rachel
Clare. He was invited to the house,
and now he recognized an unmistak
able fact he was in love with her.
Twice during his espionage on the
Clare family be had made a discov
ery. Onceythe mother, another time
Rachel herself, had left the house by
a rear exit, bearing a parcel. In each
instance the bearer took a route
thrdugh the woods and was gone
about four hours. To visit the son
and brother in hiding? doubtless.'
Willis wavered between love and
duty. He was minded to return at
once to the city and throw up his
commission. He fairly despised him
' self. Then he realized that such a
procedure would" hurt him with the
firm. Again, it was hard to leave
without at least once mo're seeing
the girl he had learned to love. He
retired that night, to toss restlessly
the long hours through. He was pale
and distraught the next mornine as
he left the hotel, and Irresistibly his (
steps led him into the direction of the
It was too early in the day to think
of presenting himself as a caller, but
he could not tear himself away from
the vicinity. 'He strolled to the out
skirts of the wood, he penetrated the
timber, losing himself in thought. His
wanderings were vain to dissipate
the tugging wretchedness at his
heart. Resting at length in the
shadow of a great oak tree, he was
aroused from reverie by the sound of
voices. He scanned the vicinity to
make an unexpected discovery. Near
to an old hut, which he had not no
ticed before, well sequestered in a
leafy grove, was a young man, pale,
thin and invalid-looking. He was
supported by a girlish companion.
She was Rachel Clare, and, noting
the resemblance, Willis at once knew
that this must be the fugitive broth
er. Rachel was supporting him as
he paced to and fro. Finally they dis
appeared into the hut
Willis arose to his feet with firmly
set lips. He had made up his minJ.
The-' sight of that anxious, innocent
face and of the wan, stricken face of
her brother had appealed to all that
was noble and manly in his nature.
He sat down again, to act promptly
upon the impulse that seized him. He
removed the hateful badge of au
thority, the star. He took out the
warrant and tore it in two. Then he
indited a brief, but tellinj note, to
In it he bitterly accused himself of
unworthinness. He made no pre
tense of concealing his love. . But he
deprecated the underhanded part he
had taken. He could never hope to
approach her again, but he could
benefit her brother thus far to take
tfarning that the law was on his
track and that he had still time to
He made up a package df the star.
the warrant and the note. He turned
to retrace his ,way to the village. His
plan was to leave all at the home of
Rachel and straightaway leave for
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