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(Copyright, bv Louis
CHAPTER I—At Troyon's, a Paris Isn,
the youth Marcel Troyon, afterwards to
be known as Michael Lanyard, is caught
stealing by Burke, an expert thief, who
takes the boy with him to America and
makes of him a finished cracksman.
CHAPTER II—After stealing the Omber
Jewels and the Huysman war plans In
London Lanyard returns to Troyon's for
the first time in many years because he
thinks Roddy, a Scotland Yard man, is
on his trail. On arrival he finds Roddy al
ready Installed as a guest.
CHAPTER III—At a dinner a conversa
tion between Comte de Morblhan. M. Ban
non and Mile. Bannon about the Lone
Wolf, a celebrated cracksman who works
alone, puzzles and alarms him as to
whether his identity is only guessed 03
"wasn't strange in his hearing, at least
he found this news about her most
surprising. He was staring openly,
•with a slackened Jaw and stupefaction
In his blank, blue eyes.
Lanyard gently pinched the small
end of a cigar, dipped it into his deml
tasse, and lighted it with not so mucb
as a suspicion of tremor. His brain,
however, was working rapidly in the
effort to determine whether De Mor
bihan meant this for a warning or was
simply narrating an amusing yarn
founded on advance information and
amplified by an ingenious imagina
diamonds. The real marvel is that the!
Lone Wolf neglected so shining a mark I
as long as he did."
"But truly so, monsieur!"
"And they caught him at it, eh?"
"Not precisely but he left a clue—
and London as well—with such haste
as would seem to indicate he knew his
cunning hand had for once slipped."
"Then they'll nab him soon?"
"Ah, monsieur, one must say no
more!" De Morbihan protested. "Rest
assured that the chief of the surete
Rose in Response to This Greeting.
friends in the prison of the Sante. But
now we must adjourn. One is sorry.
It has been so very pleasant."
A waiter conjured the bill from
some recess of his waistcoat and
served it on a clean plate to the Amer
ican. Another ran bawling for the
cloakroom attendant. Roddy glued
his gaze afresh to the Daily Mail. The
Lanyard noticed that the American
signed the bill instead of settling it
with cash, indicating that he resided
at Troyon's as well as dined there.
And the adventurer found time to re
flect that it was odd for such a. one
to seek that particular establishment
in preference to the palatial modern
hostelries of the Rive Droite—before
De Morbihan, ostensibly for the first
time espying Lanyard, plunged across
the room with both hands outstretched
and a cry of joyous surprise not really
justified by their rather slight ac|
"Ah! Ah!" he clamored vivacious-1
1y. "It is M. Lanyard, who knows all
about paintings! But this is delight
ful—a grand pleasure! You must
know my friends. But come!"
And seizing Lanyard's hands, when
that one somewhat reluctantly rose in
response to this surprisingly overexu
fcerant greeting, he dragged him wllljr
llilly from behind his table.
"And you are American, too. Cer
tainly you must know one another.
Jtflle. Bannon—with your permission
joy friend, M. Lanyard. And M. Ban
Hon—an old, dear friend, with whom
you will share a passion for the beau
ties of art."
The hand of the American, when
lanyard clasped it, was cold, as cold
fts ice and as their eyes met that
abominable cough laid hold of the
jnan, as it were by the nape of
Jiis neck, and shook him viciously.
Before' it had finished with him his
sensitively colored face was purple
&nd he was gasping, breathless—and
"H. Bannon," De Morbihan ex
plained disconnectedly— "It is most
iStressing— I tell him he should not
£t«p in Paris at this season."
tion. For by now the news of the
Omber affair must have thrilled many' P®tient melancholy.
a continental telegraph wire. I "We are off for a glimpse of Mont
"Mme. Omber—of course!" the mart re," De Morbihan was explain
American agreed thoughtfully. "Ev* —"M. Bannon and I. He has not
eryone has heard of her wonderful I
is nothing!" the American inter
posed brusquely between paroxysms.
"But our winter climate, monsieur—
it is not fit for those in the prime of
"It is I who am unfit!" Bannon
snapped, pressing a handkerchief to
his lips—"unfit to live!" he amended
Lanyard murmured a conventional
expression of sympathy. Through it
all he was conscious of the regard of
the girl. Her soft, brown eyes met
his candidly, with a look cool in its
composure, straightforward in its in
quiry, neither bold nor mock-demure.
And if they were the first to fall, it
was with an effect of curiosity sated,
without trace of discomfiture. And
somehow the adventurer felt himself
measured, classified, filed away.
Between amusement and pique he
continued to stare, while the elderly
American recovered his breath and
De Morbihan jabbered on with unfail
ing vivacity and he thought that this
closer scrutiny discovered in her face
contours suggesting maturity of
thought beyond her apparent years—
which were somewhat less than the
sum of his own—and with this the
suggestion of an elusive, provoking
quality of wistful languor, a hint of
seen Paris in
has laid his plans—his web is spun, with violence. "I? On the contrary,
and so artfully that I think our un 11 am a very selfish man I seek but
sociable outlaw will soon be making to afford myself the pleasure of your
company. You lead such a busy life,
my friend, romping about Europe,
here one day, God knows where the
next, that one must make one's best of
your spare moments. You will join
"Really I cannot tonight.
time, perhaps, if you will excuse me."
"But it is always the way!" De Mor
bihan explained to his friends with a
vast show of mock indignation. An
other time, perhaps'—his invariable
response! I tell you, not two men in
all Paris have any real acquaintance
with this gentleman whom all Paris
knows! His reserve is proverbial—
'as distant as Lanyard,' we say on the
twenty years, he tells
Well, it will be amusing to show
changes have taken place
in all that time. One regrets made
moiselle is too fatigued tc accompany
us. But you, my friend—now if you
would consent to make our third, it
would be mcst amiable of y?u."
"I'm sorry," Lanyard excused him
Belf "but, as you see, I am only just
in from the railroad, a long and tire
some journey. Ycu are very good, but
"Good De Morbihan exclaimed
And turning again to the adventur-
er, meeting his cold stare with the De
Morbihan grin of quenchless effron
"As you will, my friend!" he grant-1
ed. "But should you change your
mind—well, you'll have no trouble
finding us. Ask any place along the
conventional route. We see far too
little of each other, monsieur—and I
am most anxious to have a little chat
with you.'* I
"It will be an honor," Lanyard re
In his heart he was pondering sev
eral most excruciating methods of
murdering the man. What did he
mean? How much did he knew? If
he knew anything, he must mean ill,
for assuredly he could not be ignarant
I of Roddy's business or that every
other word he uttered was riveting
suspicion of identity with the Lone
Wolf or that Roddy was listening with
all his ears and starir.g into the bar
Decidedly something must be dene
to silence this animal, De Morbihan,
should it turn out he really did know
It was only after profound reflec
tion over his liqueur—while Rcddy de
voured his Daily Mail and washed it
I down with a thirl bottle of Bass—that
Lanyard summoned the maitre d'hotel
and asked for a rocc:.
It would never do to fix the doubts
of the detective by going elsewhere
that night. But, fortunately, Lanyard
knew that warren which was Troyon's
as no one else knew it Roddy would
find it hard to detain him should
events seem to advise an early de
When the maitre d'hotel had shown
him all over the establishment—inno
cently enough, en route, furnishing
him with a complete list of his other
guests rvnd their rooms, memoranda
readily registered by a retentive mem
ory—Lanyard chose the bedchamber
next that occupied by Roddy, in the
The consideration influencing this
selection was, of course, that so situ
ated he would be in a position not only
\.o keep an eye on the man from Scot
land Yard, but also to determine
whether or not Roddy were disposed
to keep an eye on him.
In those days Lanyard's faith in
himself was a beautiful thing. He
could not have enjoyed the immunity
ascribed to the Lone Wolf so long as
he had without gaining a power of
sturdy self-confidence in addition to
a certain degree of temperate con
tenpt for the spies of the law and .all
Reviewing the scene in the restau
rant, I^anyard felt measurably, war-
Tantea-mttBuuaiiaa nor amy mat kzjtf
dy was interested in De Mcrbihan, but
that the Frenchman was well aware
of that interest. And he resented sin
cerely bis inability to feel as confident
that the count, with his gossip about
the Lone Wolf, had been merely seek
ing to divert Roddy's interest to pu
tatively larger game. It was just pos
sible that De Morbihan's identification
of Lanyard with that mysterious per-1
sonage, at least by innuendo, had been
unintentional. But somehow Lanyard
didn't believe it had.
However, one wculd surely learn
something illuminating before very
long. The business of a sleuth is to
sleuth, and sooner or later Roddy
must surely make some move to indi
cate the quarter wherein his real in
Just at present, reasoning from
noises audible through the bolted door
f'.:: '.-cmmuRicated with the adjoining
bedchamber, the business of a sleuth
seemed to comprise going to bed.
Lanyard, shaving and dressing, could
distinctly hear a tuneless voice con
tentedly humming "Sally in Our Al
ley," a rendition punctuated by one
heavy thump, and then another, and
then by a heartfelt sigh of relief—as
Roddy kicked off his boots—and fol
lowed by the tapping of a pipe against
grate-bars, the complaint of a window
being lowered for ventilation, the click
of an electric-light switch, and the
creaking of bed springs.
Finally, and before Lanyard had fin
ished dressing, the man from Scotland
Yard began placidly to snore.
in loud tones close to the communicat
But this was a question which the
adventurer meant to have answered
before he went out.
It was hard upon twelve o'clock
when the mirror on the dressing table
assured him that he was at length in
the habit and apparel cf a gentleman
of elegant nocturnal leisure. But if
he approved the figure he cut, it was
mainly because clothes interested him
and he reckoned his own impeccable.
Of their tenant h# was feeling just
then a bit less sure than he had half
an hour since his regard was lower
ing and mistrustful.
He was, in short, suffering reaction
from the high spirits engendered by
his cross-channel exploits, his success
ful getaway, and the unusual circum
stances attendant upon his return to
this memory-haunted mausoleum of an
unhappy childhood. He even shivered
a trifle, as if under premonition of mis
With one last look round to make
certain there was nothing in his
room's calculated disorder to incrimi
nate him were it to be searched in his
absence, Lanyard enveloped himself
in a long, full-skirted coat, clapped on
an opera hat, and went out, noisily
locking the door. He might as well
have left it wide but it would do no
harm to pretend he didn't know the
bedchamber keys at Troyon's were in
terchangeable—identically the same
keys, in fact, that had been in service
Another in the time of Marcel the wretched.
A' single half-power electric bulb
now modified the gloom of the hall
way its fellow made a light blot on
the darkness of the courtyard. Even
the windows of the conciergerie were
None the less Lanyard tapped them
"Cordon!" he demanded in a stri
dent v:ice—"Cordon, s'il vous plait!"
"Eh?" A startled grunt from within
the lodge was barely audible. Then
the latch clicked loudly at the end of
Groping his way in the direction of
this last sound, Lanyard found the
small side door ajar. He opened it
and hesitated a moment, locking out
as though questioning the weather
simultaneously his deft fingers wedged
the latch back with a thin slip of steel.
It had, in fact, not been raining
within an hour, but still the sky was
dense with a low, sullen wrack of
cloud, and still the sidewalks were
The street was lonely and indiffer
ently lighted, but a swift, searching
recar.noissance discovered no spy
skulking in the shelter of any of the
Stepping out, he slammed the door
and strode briskly round the corner,
as if making fcr the cab rank that
lines up alcng the Luxembourg gar
dens of the Rue de Medicis his boot
heels made cheerful racket in that
quiet hour he was quite audibly go
ing away from Troyon's.
But instead of holding on to the cab
rank, he turned the next corner, and
then the next, rounding the block
and presently, feapproaching the en
trance to Troyon's, paused in the re
cess of a dark doorway and, lifting
one foot after another, slipped rub
ber pads ever his heels. Thereafter
his progress was practically noiseless.
The smaller door yielded to his
touch without a murmur. Inside, he
closed it gently and stood a moment
listening with all his senses—not with
his ears alone, but with every nerve
and fiber of his being—with imagina
tion to boot. But there was not a
sound or movement in all the house
that he could detect.
Rallying his wits quickly, he made a
brave show of accepting this amazing
accident as a commonplace.
"I beg your pardon, Miss Bannon—"
he began with a formal bow.
She interrupted with a gasp of won
dering recognition. "Mr. Lanyard!"
He inclined his head a second time:
"Sorry to disturb you—"
"But I don't understand—"
"Unfortunately," he proceeded
smoothly, "I forgot something when I
went out and had to come back for it"
Suddenly her gaze for the first time
broke from his and swept the room
with a glance of wild dismay.
"This room," she breathed—"I don't
"It is mine."
"That is how I happened to—inter
The girl shrank back a pace—two
paces—uttering in low-toned mono
syllable of understanding, an "Oh!"
abruptly gasped. Simultaneously her
face and throat flamed scarlet with the
color that flooded them.
"Your room, Mr. Lanyard!"
Her tone was so convincing in its
modulation of shame and horror that
his heart misgave him. Not that alone,
but the girl was very good to look
"I'm sure," he began soothingly, "it
doesn't matter. You mistook one door
"But you don't understand!" Slie
shuddered. "This dreadful habit! And
I was hoping I had outgrown it! How
can I explain?"
"Believe me, Miss Bannon, you need
"But I must. I wish to. I couldn't
bear to have you think— But surely
you can make allowances for sleep
To this appeal he could at first re
turn nothing more intelligent than a
dazed repetition of the term.
So that was how— Why hadn't he
thought of it before? Ever since he
I had turned on the lights he had been
subjectively busy trying to invest her
presence there with some plausible
excuse. But somnambulism had never
once entered his mind. And in his
stupidity, at pains though he had been
to render his words inoffensive in
themselves, he had been guilty of con-
Of course, he might well be bluffing,
for Lanyard had taken pains to let did speak her words ran swiftly:
Roddy know that they were rcrm You see—. I was so frightened! I
neighbors by announcing his selection fqund myself suddenly standing up in
In Ills turn Lanyard colored warmly.
"I beg your pardon," he muttered.
The girl paid no attention she was
thinking only of herself and the
anomalous position into which her in
firmity had tricked Her. When she
darkness, just as if I had jumped out
of bed in my sleep at some alarm
and then I heard somebody enter the
room and shut the door stealthily. Oh,
please understand^ rae!"
"But I do, Miss Bannon—quite."
"I am so ashamed—"
"Please don't consider it that way."
"But now that you know—you don't
"My dear Miss Bannon!"
"But it must be so hard to credit!
Why, it's more than a year since it
last happened. Of course, as a child,
it was almost a habit they had to
watch me all the time. Once— But I
that doesn't matter. I am so sorry!"
"You really mustn't worry," Lan
yard insisted. "It's all quite natural
—such things do happen—are happen
ing all the time—"
"But I don't want you—"
"I am nobody, Miss Bannon. Be
sides, I sha'n't mention the matter to
a soul. And if ever I am fortunate
enough to meet you again, I shall have
forgotten it completely—believe me."
There was convincing sincerity in
his tone. The girl looked down, as
"Yon are very good." she mur
mured, moving toward the door.
"I an very fortunate."
Her glance of surprise was question
"To be able to treasure this much
of your confidence," he responded with
a tentative smile.
She was near the door he opened it
for her, but cautioned her with a
The girl advanced to the threshold
and there halted, hesitant, eying him
He r.odded reassurance: "All right
But she delayed one moment more.
"It's you who are mistaken," she
whispered, flushing again beneath his
regard, from which admiration could
not be absent. "It is I who am for-
tunate—to have met a—gentleman."
Her diffident smile, together with
the candor of her eyes, embarrassed
him in such degree that for the mo
ment he was unable to frame a reply.
"Good night," she whispered—"and
thank you, thank you!"
Her room was at the far end of the
corridor. She gained its threshold in
one swift dash, noiseless save for the
silken whisper of her garments,
turned, flashed him a final lcok that
left hirn with the thought that novel-
eyes could shine like stars.
Her door closed softly.
Lanyard shook his head, as if to dis
sipate a swarm of pestering thoughts,
and weni back into his own bedcham
He was quite content with the ex
planation the girl had given, but as
the victim of a methodical and perti
nacious habit of mind, spent five busy
minutes examining his room and all
tiat it contained with a perseverance
that would have done credit to a
And no shadow coiild have made
less noise than he. slipping cat-fcoted
across the courtyard and up the stairs,
avoiding with superdeveloped sensi
tiveness every lift that might have
complained beneath his tread. In a
trice he was again in a corridor lead
ing to his bedchamber.
It was quite as gloomy and empty
as it had been five minutes ago, yet
with a difference, a something in its
atmcsphere that made him nod briefly
in confirmation of that suspicion
which had brought him back so
For one thing, Roddy had stopped
snoring. And Lanyard smiled over
It was, naturally, no surprise to find
his bedchamber door unlocked and
slightly ajar. Lanyard made sure of
his automatic, strode into the room,
and shut the door quietly, but by no
He had left the shades down and the
hangings drawn at Doth windows and
since these had not been disturbed,
something nearly approaching com
plete darkness reigned in the room.
But though promptly on entering his
fingers had closed upon the wall
switch near the door, he refrained
from turning up the lights immediate
ly, with a fancy, of Impish inspiration,
that it would be amusing to learn
what move Roddy would make when
the tension became too much even for
his trained nerves.
Several seconds passed without the
^V""- .'^^'«ni^y. 1
He Saw Not Roddy, but a Woman.
least sound disturbing the stillness.
Lanyard himself grew a little impa
tient when his sight didn't become ac
customed to the darkness because it
was too absolute—it pressed against
his staring eyeballs like a black fluid,
impenetrably opaque, as unbroken as
the hush within that room.
Still he waited. Surely Roddy
wouldn't be able much longer to en
dure such suspense.
And, surely enough, the silence was
abruptly broken by a strange and
moving sound, a hushed cry of alarm
that was half a moan and half a sob.
Lanyard himself was startled, for
that was never Roddy's voice!
There was a noise of muffled and
confused footsteps, as though some
one had started in panic for the door,
then stopped in terror.
Words followed—the strangest he
could have imagined—words spoken
in a gentle and tremulous voice:
"In pity's name! who are you and
what do you want?"
Thunderstruck, Lanyard switched
on the lights.
At a distance of some six paces he
saw not Roddy but a woman, and not
a woman merely, but the girl he had
met in the restaurant.
(TO BE CONTINUED.)
Henry Heyer returned home from
his Chicago trip.
M. J. Fitzpatrick went to Chicago
Tuesday to attend the wedding of
his brother, Atty. Thomas Fitzpat
Mrs. Florence Ryan was a busi
ness caller in Manchester Tuesday.
H. E. Wendel, the assessor, was
gesture and a whispered word:—"Wait, John Moser was a business caller
I'll make sure nobody's about." in Manchester Tuesday.
He stepped noiselessly into the hall
and paused an instant, looking keenly
right and left, listening.
ists did not always exaggerate, that and enlisted at Milwaukee, Wis., as
the thought that the man from Scct- 'from which attack he never recover
land Yard might profitably have cop-
ied that trick of poor Bourke's. of ®d citizen, and our sympathy is ex
snoring like the Seven Sleepers when
most completely awake.
Mrs. John White and Mrs. Wm.
Rudy were shopping in Manchester,
Mrs. Jas. Barr visited at the par
ental Martin home in Edgewood,
Mrs. Adelbert Clark rntertained
several relatives at dinner Sunday.
Ernest Heyer was a Thorpe call
John Billhorn was a business call-
'n ^anchester, Tuesday.
Conrad Wendel visited his sister,
Mrs. Minnie Hilsenbeck in Greeley,
James C. Barnes was born in Erie,
Pa., January 1, 1837, and passed
away at his home in Strawberry
Point, Iowa, January 26th, 1916. At
an early age Mr. Barnes came west
with his parents and settled in Wis
consin. Some years later he engaged
in the banking business with his
two brothers. At Manitowoc. Wis.,
in 1863, he heard his country's call
a private in Co. 1. 2nd Wisconsin
cavalry, from which arm of the
service he was discbarged on Oct.
24, 1S63, to be re-mustered into the
service as Captain of Co. 1, 27tli
Wisconsin Infantry. On Jan. 23rd.
1864, at Little Rock, Arkansas, lie
was appointed acting assistant in
spector general, of the 2nd Brigade,
First Division. Pie was honorably
discharged from the service, August
22nd, 1866, at St. Louis, Mo., after
serving nearly four years and return
ed to Strawberry Point, and engag
ed in the mercantile business, with
his two brothers. He was also agent
for the Western Union Telegraph
Co., which office was located in the
store. On Ncv. 15tli, 1S70, Mr. Bar
nes was united in marriage to Miss
Emma Moine. To this union six chil
dren were born five survive, cne
dying in infancy. He leaves to mcurn
his loss his wife, five children, one
sister and a host of relatives and
friends. Funeral services were con
ducted at the residence Friday, Jan.
2S, the Rev. C. H. True offic'ating.
Mr. Barnes was stricken wi'.h paraly
sis in 1914, and again Jan. 15. 1916,
Mr. Barnes was a highly respect-
tended to the bereaved ones.
Lucinda Stone who has been
very ill for some time is getting
better at this writing, which we are
glad to report.
Miss Esther Lehman is ill with
Mrs. Sherman Smith spent Tues-
Jay at the Louis Fry home.
Mrs. B. T. Weeks visited at
Mrs, Lydia Ludy home at the Point
Several friends and neighbors
gathered at the Will Kremmel home
last Tuesday evening, where a pleas
aJit evening was spent, the occasion
being a farewell party. Mr. and
Mrs. Kremmel and family expect
to move to Illinois soon.
Mrs. N. Lehman is entertaining a
sister from Elgin, la.
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