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Newspaper Page Text
a THE OLD HOOD By Belle Peno Leist "Oh, grandma, I look a-fright!" "Who to? Don't be silly, Serena. It's almost dark, it's raining, the veil will hide your" face and you'll save spoiling your dress and that pretty hat." Serena- Hoyt shrugged her shoul ders dismally. It was a full half mile to her home and the rain and the wind were alarming. It had been fine weather earlier in the afternoon when she had come to visit her grandmother. Serena had worn her best dress and hat She put both aside, drew a veil over the old-fashioned woolen hood and tucked up her dress closely, putting the long antiquated cloak over it ' "I suppose you know best, grand ma," she sighed, "but, oh dear, if I should meet any of my friends!" "They wouldn't know you." "Well, good-by. I'll send one of the boys after my things in the morning." Serena set out, comfortably bun dled. Except for her hurrying step she looked like some old dame re turning from market Serena was used to dainty things and she experi enced a shrinking embarrassment as she noted that she alone of all the women on the busy thoroughfare wore a hood. There came .a sharp dash of rain and Serena drew under the shelter of a store awning to button the top of the coat more snugly about her. She drew back as two rough-looking men passed her, staring hard at hen "There she is. I'd know that old hood anywhere," spoke one of the men. "Pass her the stuff, we may be followed." "Here, Nance," mumbled the other, gliding to Serena's side, "hide these safe. They mean a fortune to us." "I am not " but the man hurried away without waiting for an expla nation.Serena. glanced down at -the package so strangely forced into her keeping. Apparently it was a pack age of letters. Several rubber bands crossed and criss-crossed it The wrapper bore the words: "Clement Mapleton, 92 Birney terrace." "Why, that is on my way home," reflected Serena, "and those men acted so suspiciously! They looked like thieves, they talked about hiding the package. Oh, something is "Pass Her the Stuff, We May Be Followed." wrong, surely, and Til do it! This is a real adventure." So Serena, weaving all sorts of plotful mystery about the incident sought No. 92 as she entered Birney terrace. It proved to be an impos ing looking mansion. She ascended the steps and with some temerity rang the doorbell. A servant an swered the summons. "Mr. Clement Mapleton?" spoke Serena. "He is not at home," was the re ply, "but Miss Mapleton will see you