Newspaper Page Text
I A Story of Romantic Adventure in New York.
(Continued From Last Week.)
HE gave the operator the address of
Shaynon's town house. As the car
slipped away from the hotel he was
sensible of keen regret that he had
left at Peter Kenny's the pistol given j
him rby Mrs. Jefferson lnche, together
with the greater part of his fortuitous;
fortune —neither firearms nor large j
amounts of money seeming ; polite ad-,
ditions to one's costume for a dance. j
In five minutes the car drew up in j
front of one of those old fashioned I
brownetone ; English basement 7 resi- j
dences which today survive on Fifth j
avenue below Fifty-ninth street.
' Upon the frosted glass panels of the j
inner door a dim light cast : a sickly, j
yellow stain.
Laying hold of an obsolete bell .pull,
P. Sybarite yanked it with a spirit in
tune with his temper; immediately and
considerably to his surprise, the doors
were thrown open and on the thresh
old a butler showed himfcelf.
"Mr. Shaynon?" the little man de
manded, sarply. - ; :
Wich Mr. Shaynon. sir?" inquired
the butler.
"Either—l don't care which."
"Mr. Bayard Shaynon 'as just left."
"Left for where?" .
"His apartments, I presume, sir."
R'Tben I'll see Mr. Brian Shaynon."
The butler did not offer to budge.
"I'm afraid, sir. Mr. Shaynon is 'ard
ly likely to see any one at this hour."
"He'll see me," replied P. Sybarite,
grimJy. .:
At this juncture Brian Shaynon ap
peared.
He stood peering from overhead
with an obvious lack of recognition
that hinted at failing sight.
"I don't seem to know you," he said, j
slowly, with a weary shake of his j
head; "and your visit is most mop- i
portune—the hour. I fear you must
excuse me."
"That can't be,"' P. Sybarite re
turned. "I've business with you—im
portant. r The cat's out of the bag, my
friend! What —wbat have you done
with Marian ' Bleseington ?"
"Mar —Marian?" the old voice iter
ated. "Why, she"—the man pulled
himself together with a determined ef
fort —she's in her room, of course.
* Where should she be?"
"Is that true?" P. Sybarite demand- i
ed of the butler in a manner so per-1
emptory that the truth slipped out J
before the fellow realized it.
"Miss Marian 'asn't returned as yet
from the ball," he whispered. " —
'c's not quite imself, sir. 'E'es 'ad a
bit of a shock, as one might s'y. I'd
go easy on 'im, if ; you'll take a word j
from me."
"Brian Shaynon," called out P.
Sybarite, "you lie! The police have
caught Red November; they'll worm
tbe truth out of him within twenty j
minutes, if I don't get it from you
now. The game's up. Come! What
fcave you done with the girl?" V
For all answer a low cry, like the •
plaint of a broken hearted child, is
sued from the leaden, writhen lips of
the old man. And while be stared in
wonder, Brian Shaynon seemed sud
denly to lose the strength of his limbs.
His legs shook beneath him as with a
palsy; and then, : knees buckling, he
tottered and plunged headlong from
top to bottom of : the staircase.
"Dead," the butler affirmed, releae- I
ing tbe pulseless, leaden wrist and
rising. "He'd ad a bit of shock be
fore you come in, sir." ".,
"Yes?" murmured P. Sybarite, ab
sently. ." ■.. "■ ■ ■ ... ;''■ '
"Must ay been over an hour ago,
Mr. Shaynon 'ere; c come ome alone
from - the dance. W'y, 'c 'adn't more
than got inside the .'ouse, sir, w'en a
lidy called on —a lidy as I 'ad
never set eyes on before, , sime a3 in
your caise, sir: although I wouldn't
'aye you , think '% I mean 5 she was , of]
your cJawBS. sir. 'Ardly. Properly
speaKin , , she wasn't a lidy at all —
ljut s .a woman.; I mean to s'y a bit
flash. They was closeted in ' the li
brary upstairs not more than twenty
minutes, and then : she went, and 'c
rung for me to ; bring 'Im brandy
and not delay about it. 'E nearly
emptied the decanter, too, before Mr.l
Bayard got 'ere. And the minute
they come together it was 'ammer;
and tongs. 'Ot and 'eavy they 'ad it
for upward of an hour, be'ind closed:
doors, eime as like with the lidy. But
', ~■• • - .■-.■, ■.~. ' ■ ,"■■ .• .-.■■ -.-■.. % '~
w'en Mr. Bayard, c conic to go, sir,
THE DAY OF DAYS
the old gent follows 'im to the landin''
—just where 'c was when he spoke to
you, sir, before •'c 'ad the stroke—^and
'c says to 'im, saye 'c: - 'Remember, I
cawst :• you off! Don't * come ;tojme -: for
[ nothin' after • this. % And Mr. Bayard, j
I sir, ups and laughs fiendish in ; 'is
! own .• father's : face. ; 'You've j got an-
J other guess comin , , , ;he y mocks 'im
j open; 'you're in this business as deep
[ asr j me,' :'e says, • and if you cross me
I I'll double cross , you, s'elp me Gawd,
and in the newspapers; too.' V And with
that, out c went in a rage"
I So Mrs. lnche had sought the father i
Ito revenge herself upon the son; and
I with this outcome —Bayard unharmed,
I his father dead! .: • ' ,
•'l'll telephone the doctor at once,"
said the butler, and waddled off. : f:
Alone, the little man swung about,
walked quietly to the front door and
as quietly let himself - out. The real
business of hie life was to discover
the whereabouts ;of Marian Blessing
ton with the least avoidable delay. :
'Not; until about to re-enter the car
did he remember he had neglected to
secure Bayard's address from the but
ler. But he wouldn't turn back; itj
could be ascertained elsewhere; Peter
Kenny would either know it or know
where to get it.
"The Monastery,' ' he directed, ; set
tling back into his seat.
"Wait," P. Sybarite told the driver,
"I'm keeping you.".
A dull eyed hallboy recognized and
let him in. sullenly passing him on to
the elevator; but as that last was on
the point of taking flight to Peter
Kenny's door it hesitated, and the op
erator, '* with his hand on the half
closed gate, shot it open again instead
of shut.
A Western Union messenger boy,
not over forty years, tired, was being
admitted at the street door. The col
loquy ; there was distinctly audible: ;
"Mr. Bayard Shaynon?"
" 'Leventh : floor. Hurry up—don't,
keep the elevator waitin'." 1
. Now Peter Kenny's rooms were on
the : ? twelfth. •
Peter was quick to answer his own
door and P. Sybarite walked in with a
careless, good humored nod for his
host. : ':\ ■■ ".;. ■ -; : - ..:; ■ • \\\
"But '-, why," he ejaculated — "why
didn't you tell me' Bayard Shaynon
lived in the flat below you?"
."Didn't occur to me and, really, % I
dont see why it should interest you
now." '.""-..v' , •'■ '" .-•/-■";
; "Because," said P. - Sybarite quietly,
"I'm going down there and break in as
soon as I'm dressed fit to go to jail.
"In the scared name of Insanity!
Unarmed ?"
"Not if I know the nature of the
brute." He - stood up, . his clothes
changed, and now fully dressed but
for his shoes. "Now—my gun, please."
"Top drawer of the buffet there.
How are you going? Fire escape?"
"Where is it?" P. Sybarite asked as
he possessed himself of > his weapon.
Half a minute.' , Peter Kenny held
out his hand.
"Let's have a look at that gun, will
you?" '[:'.•■''
"What for?"
: "One of those new fangled automatic
pistols, isn't it? I've never seen one
before." . .*
—Great Scott!—you've had this
here" -;., . •• . ~-.. ■;. ',; ,
"I know, but ; 1 didn't ; pay 5 much
attention—thinking of other things"—
"But you're delaying ——
"Mean to," said Peter Kenny pur
posefully and, without giving p. Syb
arite the least hint of his intention,
suddenly imprisoned bis wrist, grab
bed the weapon by tbe barrel and took
it to himself—with the greater \ ease
since the other neither understood nor
attempted, resistance. I
"What the deuce! What's the matter
with you? '■; Hand > over the : clip. What |
good is this gun without it?" !
"For . your = present % purpose f it's I
better than if loaded," Peter asserted i
i complacently. "For 'purposes of in-
tlmidatlon— is all you want of
it—grand! And it can't go off by acci
dent and make you an unintentional
murderer."
P. Sybarite's jaw dropped and his
eyes ;. opened, bat after an Instant he
nodded in entire agreement. ;
"That's a head you have on your
shoulders, boy!" said be. "As for
mine, I've I a notion that it has never
really jelled."•„{,■ ,;>._:;:,; t. ..£'& I \ i
"One v thing more"—Peter Kenny
came to the window to advise as P.
Sybarite scrambled out upon the grid
«»»*■*«?"■;■■"■•■:.■- "-v
iron platform—"Shaynon's flat isn't
arranged like mine. He's better off
■ -•-■-.
than I am, you know—can afford more
elbow room. I'm not sure, but I think
you'll break in—if at all—by the
dining room ! window. So long. . Good
luck!" ' \
; Shaynon's window was wide open,
to I force whose latch he ; had thought
fully provided Htmself with a fruit
knife from Peter Kenny's buffet.
Within was gloom and stillness ab
solute, rendered the more opaque by
heavy velvet hangings.
He stepped noiselessly, in his un
shod feet, down through the window,
cautiously parted .the draperies and
advanced into darkness so thick that
there might ; as wel , have been j night
outside ; instead \of | glowing daybreak.
Over across from the window stood
a door, its oblong ; dimly : luminous
with light softly shining down the
walls of ; a private 1 hall, from a point
some distance ;to the ■ left ,of the open
ing. ' / .
From some uncertain quarter—
presumably the lighted room—he
could t hear a sound, very ', slight—
slight that .it * seemed guarded, but
none the less unmistakable—the hiss
of carbonated water squirting ' from a
syphon into a glass. .
c Ceasing, * a short wait followed and
then a faint "A-ah!" of satisfaction,
with v the thump of a glass set } down
upon some hard i surface. .-. :
: And Vat once \ soft footfalls became
audible in the private hall, shuffling
toward the dining room.»•';;>' '■';■;
Instinctively the little man drew
back, . retreating sideways along the
wall until he had put the bulk of a
massive buffet between him and \ the
door. : ". ■ •:'■.. y :: \ : -:~-'':'/ : .'~i:': .'■''" i'-K\
The footsteps ; came no farther than
the . dining ; : room door, then died out
for what • seemed full { two • minutes. .;■;
f I Suddenly, without glance right or
left, a man strode directly to the open
v/indow: - There for ;an instant he
delayed with an eye to ; the ' crack be
tween v the curtains, : then, reassured,
threw ; one aside ' and stepped \ into the
embrasure, there ;to : linger »: long
enough to enable ;P. ■ Sybarite to make
an amazing discovery: * the man was
not ~ Bayard Shaynon. .j] <
He was Red November. •; A long bar
reled revolver of blue teteel he held at
poise all the > while he carefully sur
veyed his line of retreat. . •!/
In anothertbreath; P. ; Sybarite i him
self > was fat], the window. The figure
of the gunman, foreshortened unrecog
nizably, was moving down the |ron
tangle already several flights below,
singularly resembling a> spider in
some extraordinary web.
The little man ran back : through
the dining room and'dowrif the private
hall abandoning every effort to avoid
a noise. ~ ■ ■ .'.'.. *" '">.." ' • '•
What ,he saw from the threshold ,of
the lighted room was Bayard ■ Shaynon
fatill in death upon the floor, one tem
ple shattered by a shot fired at close
range ; from a revolver that , lay j with
butifclose to his rigtit hand—carefully
disposed with evident ; intent to i indi
cate a case of suicide rather than of
murder. < ' ''•', , '-.
./■A% most -. superficial inspection • ought
to convince . anybody, even ~; one prone
to precipitate 'conclusions, that Bayard
Shaynon had* never died by his own
hand.
The rooms had been most thorough
ly if hastily? ransacked.
He found proof enough of this in the
turned out pockets of the murdered
man; ;in the abstraction from ]'■ the
bosom of his shirt of pearl - studs
which P. -Sybarite had noticed there
within the hour; in the : abraded
knuckles of finger from which a con
spicuous solitaire ; diamond in massive
antique£setting; wasi missing; in a
pigskin bill fold, empty, ripped, turned
inside out, and thrown upon the floor
not far from the corpse.
Also he fouhd a torn and ■ crumpled
envelope with its ]. telegram inclosed
flattened out and apart from it.
i This last he snatched up, but the
envelope he didn't touch, having been
quick to \ remark the print upo» fit^ of
a dirty thumb whose counterpart dec
orated the face \of the message o as
well.
"And a hundred more of 'em, prob
ably," P. Sybarite surmised as to the
number of finger, marks left by No
vember: "enough to hang him ten
times over *.* * which V hope'
and pray they don't before I finish
with him!" •
As for the dead man he gave a
meaning nod toward the disfigured
bead. > "._"'■,':■ :: ""*.,",
"It was coming to you—and you got
it," said P. Sybarite callously, with
never a< qualm of shame for the
apathy with which he .: contemplated
this, second tragedy in the house of
Shaynon.
'. He turned back to i the hall door, lis
tened an | instant, ; gently opened * it—
with his handkerchief wrapped round
the polished brass door knob to guard
against clews calculated to involve
himself. For he felt no desire to re
; port I the \ crime to ; the police; let them
t jeer* *i*«Bißw'T*Ba«e*~- i,ji- -.;.»
it out at their leisure, Investigate
and take what action they would; P.
Sybarite had lost no love for the force
that night, and meant to-use it only
as a I pinch—as when, perchance, its
might promise to elicit the
information | presumably 4 possessed by
Red November in ? regard ? » to ? the 1 fate
of Marian Blessington.
LOUIS JOSEPH VANCE
The public hall was still as the
chamber of death.
"Good : f Lord, : man! Z was Peter'e
greeting. "You look as if you'd seen
a ghost" - " - ■' T MM
Briefly Sybarite told the story. . -
Wi Peter peering i over his I shoulder, the
two conned the telegram in silence:
"BAYARD SHAYNON
•':,•■-■ "Monastery Apts • ;■;: W. ■ 43d, N. Y. C.
"Your wire received, all preparations
j made I send I patient ,in charge asllndi
cated at convenience legal formalities
can wait as you suggest. . -,
"HAYNES PRIVATE SANATORIUM."
"Don't you see — private sanator
ium?" cried the little Irishman*. "What;
"Don't you see — ; private sanator
ium?" cried the little Irishman*. "What
more proof ;do youf need lof Jal plot to
railroad Marian to a private institu
tion for the insane? 'Legal formalities
can wait as you suggest'—of course!
They J hadnt had time to cook up the
necessary papers, to , get medical cer
tificates : and f perchance a commitment
paper of some corrupt judge. But
what of that?" P. Sybarite demanded,
slapping the message s furiously. "She
was in the way—at large—liable at
any time to do something that would
put her ~ money forever A out ;of their
reach!"
"The dogs!"' Peter Kenny growled.
"November!" cried Sybarite, in an
swer to a thought inside his own head.
"What can you do to him?' .
"To begin with, beat ■'. him to that
damned asylum. Fetch me the su
burban telephone directory."
"But," Peter protested .in . a daze,
watching P. Sybarite rummage in the
buffet drawer wherein he had banked
his fortune before setting out for- the
Bizarre—"but what do you want me
to—"
<; "Call up that sanatorium —find out
if Marian has arrived. If she has,
threaten fire, sword and—all * that
sort of thing—if they don't release
her—hand her over to me on demand.
If she hasn't, make 'em understand
I'll dynamite the place .if they let No
vember ; bring her there and get away
before I show up. Tell em to call in
the police and pinch November on
sight: And then get a lawyer and Bend
■ * - - ■'. . '
him up there after me. And then—
set h the police after November —tell-
em you heard the shot and went down
'■ - ~.. .-;.-■'■.-. t ■- 4 -~ ■■■■ r , <- f „ — ■ ■;- - * - - » » ■■■;!
the fire escape to investigate * • •
I'm off." .. . . : _ •
The chauffeur turned hie car,
jumped : into , the driver's I seat i and I ad
vanced the spark. The purr of the
motor deepened to a ieoninefsrowl^
"Hello!" be exclaimed, in surprise,
real or feigned, to see P. Sybarite take
the seat by his side. "What til?
.W ho s. paying you to be a God forsak
en ass?"
~:; "Did you think I'd aek you to run
a risk that frightened me?"
.•■V: "Dunno's If thought much - about ; it,
but 'f yuh wanta know what I think
now, 1 think you oughta get a rebate
outa whatcha give me—if you live to
apply for it. And I don't mind tellin ,
you, if you do, you won't '■-. get it."
Again the spiteful drumming of * the
automatic. P. Sybarite - swung around
in time to see one of the plain clothes
men return the fire with several brisk
shots, then abruptly drop his revolver,
clap a hand to his bosom, wheel about
face and fall prone.
P. Sybarite shut his teeth on a
nervous tremor and lost a shade or
two of color.
"Ready?" he said, with difficulty.
The chauffeur's reply was muffled
by another volley; on the echoes of!
which the little man saw the nose of
a car poke diagonally out )of the ga
■< - - . . -•» * - ' ■ •>■-•■ • • - ' ' "'•■''■■.if'--/'
--rage door,pause, swerve a trifle to the
right, and pause once again.
"They're ; coming!" he cried, wildly.
"Stand by, quick!" ' \ - \ t ~-] :
The alarm was taken up and re
peated by two score throats, while
those dotted the street and sidewalks
near by broke :in swift panic and began
madly to scuttle to shelter within
doorways ; and down basement steps.
November's , car broke cover at an
angle. It took : the -, bump of the curb
apparently at full tilt, and skidded to
the northern curb before it could be
brought under control and ; its course
shaped eastward. ;r ■ "'-
With a cehiver,' P. Sybarite recog
nized that car.
It was - not » the ; taxicab that he had
been led to expect, but the same, ma
roon colored limousine into which he
had I assisted ; , Marian Blessington at
the Bizarre.
On Its front were two men—
Red * November himself I atttheTdriver, s
side, a revolver in either hand. And
thelbodyv of the , car itained one pas
senger, at least, if P. Sybarite might
trust to an impression gained in one
hasty glance through the forward win
dows as the car bore down upon them
—November's weapons spitting fire.
He could not say,* who . that one pas
senger might be; but he could guess;
and, guessing, knew the automatic sin
his grasp would be useless; he; dared
not fire at the gangster for fear of
loosing a wild bullet r into the body
of the car.
Now they were within fifty feet of
: - ■' £~'-finer 1 J^-7^"iHktam'
one another. By contrast with the ap
parent j slowness !of the \ touring \ car to
get in motion; the limousine seemed
-
t already to have I attained -i locomotive
speed.
A yell and a shot from one of No
vember's revolver's 1 (P. Sybarite saw
" ."■'
the bullet score the asphalt not
feet from ; the forward wheel), warned
them to clear the way as the gang
leader's car swerved wide to • press
them.
: And on this the touring car seemed
to get out of control, swinging across
the street Immediately the other,
crowded to the gutter, attempted to
take the curb, but, the wheels meet
ing it at an angle not sufficiently
acute, ; the * maneuver failed. ; ; Novem
ber's driver shut down the brakes not
a thought too soon—not soon enough,
indeed, to avoid a collision that
crumpled • a mudguard vas ;« though it
had been a thing of pasteboard. ■
Simultaneously P. Sybarite's chauf
feur set the brakes and dived from his
iseat to the ? side of the f car farthest
i from the i gangsters. In an instant ?he
was underneath it. '
P. Sybarite, on the other hand, had
leaped before the accident. Stagger
ing a pace or two— all the time
under fire—he at length found his feet
not six feet from the limousine. It
L
had stopped broadside on. In this po
! sition he 1 commanded the front I seats
without great danger lof sending a
shot astray. .-^w^^feV'
His weapon rose mechanically and
quite deliberately he took aim—
: throughout i what ; seemed f age ; made
memorable by the singing past his
head of the infuriated gangster's bul
lets.
But his finger never tightened upon
the trigger.
November had ceased firing and was
plucking nervously at the side of his
automatic. His driver % had jumped
down from his seat and was scuttling
madly up the street. '
In , a breath P. Sybarite realized
what was the matter; I aeri automatics
will, when hot with fast firing, No
vember's had choked ,on an empty
shell. -
* With a sob of ; excitement the little
man ; lowered his weapon and j flung
■■■■■:-'-;.•■■-■:.■■.-■,■:-■--:- ■■--:■•--■■■;>.. :; > ,- ~« ■ -■*••'.,■-?■.;.» .-.
himself upon the gang leader. :
November rose to meet him, re
versing his pistol and aiming at P.
Sybarite's head a murderous blow.
This, however, - . the little man was alert
to dodge. November came boldly into
his arms. Grappling, the two reeled
and went down, P. Sybarite's t fingers
closing on the throat of the assassin
'■»«»-_■ ■■■•• -~>■.-■,- ■ —
just as the Jatter's head struck the
pavement with brutal force.
The man shivered, grunted and lay
still.
; P. Sybarite disengaged and got up
on his feet.
'- <- Kismet! - * :, " • *•'■ '■ * *"''•' * ; v / H-"' ■,*• ■ j'i
In the hall savagely punching the
the first part of an enforced wait to
return the clip of cartridges to its
chamber in the butt of Mrs. Inches
pistol *
He punched the t bell again. •
• He ' put his thumb - upon i the button
and held it - there. :•'. ■
Infuriated, he threw himself \ down
the stairs,' descending in great bounds
from<!anding to landing, more like a
! tennis ; ball • than ia ■ fairly intelligent
:, specimen \ of i mature i humanity I in * con
trol of his own actions. >.
! • To . his ' astonishment, ; downstairs
there was . nowhere a sign of a hallboy
or anything else in human guise.
There sounded from a distance down
the street a noise resembling more
than anything else the almost simul
taneous detonations of something like
half a dozen firecrackers of sub-can
i non caliber. '
Going outside, he found his own
chauffeur . affectionately embracing a
lampost three or , four doors away
toward Sixth avenue. _
At ; once, : goaded intolerably by his
own knowledge that the time was - ;
short if he were to forestall Novem
ber at the asylum :in Oscahana, he
pelted hotfoot after the delinquent.
"Here!" he cried indignantly—
"what the deuce's the matter with
you . • .
K'Butfas lhe i spoke ? his accents were
blotted out by a repetition of that por
tentous noise; which had saluted him
in the lobby of the Monastery a mo
ment since. ..
"What," he cried, "in Hades!"—
"Gang fight," his chauffeur informed
him briefly; "fly ■ cops cornered a
bunch of em in November's ga
rage"
"Whose garage?"
"Red November's! Guess you've
heard of him," the man pursued, eag
erly. "That's right—he rung his own
garage—taxis for Dutch House souses,
yunno"
Early^as^.was' ; the hour, the crowd
was already quite fifty strong and
every minute I brought reinforcements
straggling up from Fifth avenue. -^?i
Similarly at Sixth avenue, a rabble
was collecting, blocking the -roadway
and backing up to ■ the elevated pillars
and surface car tracks.
Midway the dark doorway to No
vember's garage yawned forbiddingly;
and in all the space that separated
these two gatherings of spectators
there were Ivisiblef justl three I human
figures: .a . uniformed I patrolman and
two plainclothes men— former at
a discreet distance, the two latter
M|iilHiPiiHW 'Wf 'iTlii i "'li 111 infill'.ln.inn flL.j.ji!! 'lj' x-J! 're ijilj.^^.w^^
more boldly stationed « and holding re
volvers ready for,instant employment.
"Fly cops," the chauffeur named the j
two "In citisens , clothing. "All of a'
sudden I sees November duck up from
The San Francisco Sunday Call
• ■• . . ■ - . _. •mi 111111111111
r ~ -■• ", . "- *«"■■■"-■-' ■■-
the basement next door to the Monas
tery, and they tries to jump him.
That ain't two minutes ago. Novem
ber dodges, pulls a gun and fights 'em
off until he can back into the ga
rage"— -•••_.
-• A hand holding an automatic edged
into sight round the corner of the
garage door—and the pistol rang like
a locust. Instantly one of the de
tectives fired. The pistol clattered tOj
'the walk as the hand disappeared, j
One shot at least had told for law
and order.
"What do you suppose makes 'em j
keep that door open? You d think" —|
"The way I figure it," the chauffeur
cut in, "Red's plannin' to make his
getaway in a car. He's just waitin'
till the goin' looks good, and then
he'll sail outa there like a streak of
greased lightnin'. Yuh wanta be
ready to duck, too, 'cause he'll come
this way, an' keep guns goin' to pre
vent anybody from hinderin' him."
From the dark interior of the be
sieged I garage * another automatic i. flut
tered * briskly; across the street * a win
dow fell in.
"Look here?—you ? come :. with me,"
eaid P. Sybarite, < suddenly, plucking
his chauffeur by the sleeve. "How
much nerve have you got?" the little
Irishman demanded.
"Who—me? Why?"
"I want to stop this ' getaway"
"Not for mine, friend." The chauf
feur laughed. -, .
"Will a thousand dollars make you
change your mind?"
"Lead me -to the coin," was - the
prompt decision.
j - "Here, then!"
i ■■■'-~ ■ ' ■ -.-,■. - ■■-.»,-.■, >■ ■:-'■ .i .- , ■ -.:---" '•••-■■ ' V-:. •■■. .
P. Sybarite delved hastily into a
■ .•■•■•,
trousers pocket. ;: ; . ; ..
"There's a five hundred dollar bill
to start with," he rattled, stripping off
the first that fell* to hie fingers—"and
here's a hundred —no, here's another
five instead."
"In the mitt," the - chauffeur ■ stipu
lated, simply, extending j his * palm. >
P. : Sybarite -i handed- over the ? two
bills and put away the rest of his
wealth. "Just jump into that car and
be :' ready to swing across the street
and block 'em ;as they come. •
"You're on!" agreed the chauffeur,
with emotion. '■;■■-'■';■ '
"And a thousand more"—his - cour
age wrung this tribute from P. Syba
rite's admiration —"if you're hurt"
"You're on there, too — and don't
think I for a minute : I'll letcha ' fergit,
neither." ' -; —•-'■' •
• •*••* -
The thing was finished. November
!i stunned and helpless at his r feet, No
vember's driver making off, the crowd j
swarming round, the police an immi- i
nent menace. ' * * - - l : -':\
■-,■ .- ■"■; ■■:■ :,■■■■■ v - '?*"*'-
Now if Marian were in the body of i
the town car he ? must * get ■ her out of i
it and away before the police and de
tectives could overtake and apprehend
them both. : --. :■ : : f i :■'.. .-.: ■' ■■■. . j
Sjriis( chauffeur ; was V crawling igno
miniously i~> from > beneath -, the touring
car. 'f. .... ■. ' : I
v .'P..; Sybarite seized! him by the arm. l
" "Are you hurt?" - '
"Not ten cents' worth— less a |
thousand dollars! No such luck!"
P. Sybarite whispered hoarsely:
"Unhook your license number—
it in ithe car—get ready to move on ■ the
word —lady in that kidnaped—
I love ■-• her—d'you understand?—we
must get her away—another thousand'
in this for you" '
"Ootcha," the man cut in smartly.
"And I'm with you .to , the last act!
Go to it, bo'— l. like your style!" P.
Sybarite wrenched open the car's • door
and stumbled in. "'•' " "
In her evening ? frock . and ■ her ■• cloak
of furs Marian lay huddled ■in a " cor
ner, wrists and ankles ; alike made fast
> with heavy 'I twine, ' her mouth closed
tight by a bandana handkerchief
passed around her jaws knotted ;at
the nape of her neck. Above its folds
her face was like snow, but the little
man thought to detect in her staring
eyes a hint of intelligence, and on this
he counted with all his soul.
•ivAn. instant's worH loosed her scored
wrists; In another the bonds fell from
her ankles. Deftly unknotting the
bandage that closed her mouth, he
asked could she walk. With difficulty,
in a husky and painful whisper, but
still courageously, she told him yes.
Hopeful, rather than counting on
this assurance, he J jumped out , and < of
fered his hand. She put her hand in
his, stirred, rose stiffly, tottered to
the ' door and fell into his army.
* • *
'\, P. Sybarite helped her\ to the step of
the touring car—and blessed that
prince »mong chauffeurs, who was Tup
and J ready In -his, seat. " - . -{
"GrJ" P. Sybarite cried to the chauf
feur. The crowd gave way before the
lunge of the car. • • •., , •
. They were half way to Fifth avenue
before pursuit wajs thought of, and
were presently running i free iat a 1 mod
erate pace up Broadway just above
Columbus circle. ••'•.
"Where to now, boss?' the chauf
feur presently inquired.
P. Sybarite looked Inquiringly at
his charge. She rested motionless in
her corner of the tonneau. eyes closed,
body relaxed and listless. But now
she roused.
, "Wherever you thinkj>est," she told
him gently
••THE IBIRASS ®®WL"|
..... :l iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!iiiiiimmi^
: "The Plaza? You might be both
ered there. Tomorrow—reporters
all that—perhaps. " Perhaps not.
♦ ■* • Don't you know somebody
'out of town to whom you could go for
a day?" ' . .". , , '
She nodded; breathed an address in
Weschester county. ♦ * *
Some time later Sybarite became
sensible of an amazing fact. A hand
of his rested on the cushioned seat,
and in it lay. now warm and wonder
fully soft and light, Marlan'e^hand.
- Toward ten of that same Sunday
morning a touring car of majestic
mien drew up in front of a boardins
house in Thirty-eighth street west.
From this alighted a little man '■' of
somewhat bedraggled appearance,
wearing a somewhat weather beaten
but heartfelt grin.
Then the car rolled off and P. Syba
rite shuffled meekly in through the
gate, crossed ■ the dooryard and met the
outraged glare of George = Bross with
an apologetic smile . and the request:
"If you've got a pack of cigarettes
about you, George, I can use one in!
my business."
; "Whatcha been doin , with yourself
i all night P. - S.?" George was coaxing
; for information. ;
P. Sybarite yawned and smiled be
nignantly upon George Broes.
• "I'm off to bed —was only waiting
f6r;this>meiseage," he announced.
"One moment more." : P. Sybarite
dropped a detaining -hand upon his
arm. "You and 1 Violet are invited to
dinner tonight—at _ the Hotel Plaza.
Don't be alarmed; you needn't dress;
we'll ;dine ■■ privately ■in Marian's apart
ment" ■' "■■■■■ ••■■■■ ' '■•:■ . ' • :
"Marian!"
; "Miss }■~ Blessirigton—Molly r Lesslng
that was." ■ ' „
\ "After dinner,' , P. Sybarite pursued
evenly, "you're going to attend a very
quiet ' little : wedding • party."
"Whose, for God's cake?' '
;' "Marian's and mine; and the only
reason why ; you can't be best: man is
that the v man will be my cousin,
Peter Kenny."
But he wasn't too tired to read his
telegram when he found . himself again,
and * for the last time, in his « hall bed
room. ""
B(It said -simply: "I love you.—
Marian." : :
(The End.)
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