Eagle River review. [volume], May 10, 1912, Image 6

About Eagle River review. [volume] (Eagle River, Wis.) 1890-1927

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I \ t 1 uLSn
SYNOPSIS.
The story opens at Monte Carlo with
Col. Terence O’Rourke, a- military free
.lance and something of a gambler, In his
'hotel. Leaning on the balcony he sees a
beautiful girl who suddenly enters the
elevator and passes from sight. At the
gaming table O’Rourke notices two men
'watching him. One is the Hon. Bertie
Glynn, while his companion is Viscount
Des Trebes, a duelist. The viscount tells
him the French government has directed
him to O’Rourke as a man who would
undertake a secret mission. At his apart
ment, O’Rourke, who had agreed to un
dertake the mission, finds a mysterious
.letter. The viscount arrives, hands a
sealed package to O’Rourke, who is not
to open it until on the ocean. A pair of
dainty slippers are seen protruding from
under a doorway curtain. The Irishman
■finds the owner of the mysterious feet to
be his wife, Beatrix, from whom he had
run away a year previous. They are
reconciled, and opening the letter he finds
that a Rangoon law firm offers him
100,000 pounds for a jewel known as the
Pool of Flame and left to him by a ay
inc friend, but now in keeping of one
named Chambret in Algeria O Rourke
worsts the nobleman in a duel. The wife
bids O’Rourke farewell and he promises
'to soon return with the reward. He dis
covers both Glynn and the viscount on
board the ship. As he finds Chambret
there is an attack by bandits and his
friend dies telling O’Rourke that he has
left the Pool of Flame with the governor
general, who at sight of a signet ring
given the colonel will deliver over the
Jewel.
CHAPTER IX.—(Continued.)
“Quite right,” echoed O’Rourke with
assumed indignation. “Be quiet, Ber
tie. Children should be seen and not
heard. Mind your uncle." And, “Oho!”
he commented to himself. “And they
knew I didn’t have the Pool of Flame!
Let me think. . . . Oh, faith, 'tis
just bluffing they are!”
“You say,” the viscomte continued
slowly and evenly, “you’ve destroyed
the letter.”
O’Rourke took up pipe and tobacco.
“I told ye,” he replied, filling the
bcwl, “that the letter was non-exist
ent. Now, me man,” he continued, with
an imperceptible change of tone, “drop
the bluff. Turn that pistol away from
me. Well I know that ye won’t shoot,
for if ye did ye would put beyond
your reach forever the information
that would win ye the reward —al-
ways providing ye had got possession
of the ruby, be hook or crook. ’Twould
be crooks, I’m thinking.”
He lit a match and applied the
flame to the tobacco. “There’s me last
word on the subject,” he added in
distinctly, puffing and eyeing the pair
through the cloud of smoke.
The revolver waved in the vicomte’s
hand; he was livid with passion and
disappointed, yet amenable to rea
son. Glynn bent and whispered brief
ly in his ear, and the Frenchman, nod
ding acquiescence, laid aside his
weapon. The Honorable Bertie con
tinued to advise with him in whispers
until O’Rourke, though quite at loss to
understand this phase of the affair,
saw that their attention was momen
tarily diverted and, with a swift move
ment, leaned over, snatched up the re
volver and, with a flirt of his hand,
flung it out of the window.
Glynn started back with an oath,
his hand going toward his pocket; but
O’Rourke promptly closed with him. A
breath later a second pistol was eject
ed from the carriage and the English
man was sprawling over the knees of
the vicomte.
i They disengaged themselves and,
jnad with started up to fall upon
and exterminate the wanderer. I
•think it must have been the very
impertinence of his attitude that
made them pause in doubt, for
he had resumed his seat as calmly as
though nothing at all had happen
ed and was pulling soberly at
his pipe. As they hesitated he re
moved the latter from his lips and
gestured airily with the stem. “Sit
ye down,” he Invited them, “and take
it easy, me dear friends. The mischief’s
done, and naught that ye can do will
repair it. Faith, I said I’d not strike
back unless ye crowded me. I re
member me words to the letter.
Your guns made a crowd out of this
happy reunion. I’ve merely dispensed
with them; I call ye both to witness
that ye have neither of ye suffered.
Sure, I'm as peaceable as any lamb.
Sit down, sit ye down and take It like
little men. The situation’s unchanged,
save that I’ve put temptation out of
your reach.”
And as they wavered, plainly of
two minds, O'Rourke clinched the ar
gument of his attitude. “I beg to call
your attention,” he remarked, “to the
fact that ye have left me own brace
of revolvers here at me feet, when ye
so joyously turned me bag inside out.
I’m not touching them, mind ye, but
mind ye further: I’ll brook no non
sense. If ye make a move as if to at
tack me, I’ll . . . There! That’s
much better. Wise lads, ye are, both
of ye: graceful In defeat Let me see:
We’ve a long ride together, though
ye did come uninvited. I trust ye
will help me beguile the tedium with
Fociety chatter, me friend," with a
tvinkle at the discomfited vicomte.
"I'm in danger of forgetting me man-
~ by LOUIS JOSEPH VANCE'If
ILLUSTRATIONS BY
COPYRICHTI9O9
ners. Pardon me, I pray, but —but I
trust your nose is convalescing?”
In high feather with himself,
O’Rourke entertained his companions
with a running fire of pleasantries for
the balance of the darkened hours.
And he touched both more than once
with the rapier-point of his wit and
irony, and had the pleasure of seeing
both squirm in impotent rage. They
cut wretched figures, two against one,
yet failures, while he taunted them in
one breath, with the next declared
himself their captive. Toward the end
the reserve which the vicomte im
posed upon the Honorable Bertie was
worn down: the Englishman turned
with raw nerves upon his tormentor.
“You damned ass!” he stammered,
all but incoherent. “You sit there
and —and gloat, damn you! When all
the time we’ve got the upper hand!”
“Be quiet!” interposed the vicomte.
“I won’t!” raged the honorable. “He
thinks himself so infernally clever!
What ’dyou say, you Irish braggart, if
I told you you’d never see the Pool
of Flame again?”
“I’d say,” returned O’Rourke, “that
you were either lying or a fool. In
either case a fool. If, as ye seem to
be trying to make me believe —which
I don’t for one instant —ye have’suc
ceeded in stealing the Pool of Flame,
I’ll hunt the pair of ye to the ends of
the earth, if need be.”
He eyed them reflectively during a
moment or two made interesting by
Glynn’s desperate attempts to blurt
out indiscretions against the prohibi
tion of the vicomte: something which
the older man enforced crudely by
clapping his hand across the English
man’s mouth, as well as by whisper
ing savagely in his ear.
“But there’ll be no need,” continued
the Irishman, when Glynn was calm.
“Let’s consider the matter dispassion
ately, presupposing that ye have, the
stone. Well, whfit then? Ye dare not
attempt to sell it —’twould result in
Instant detection. It would not pay
ye to have it secretly cut up into
smaller stones —the loss in value
would be stupendous, the whole not
worth your while, as I say. Ye can
not take the Pool of Flame (don’t get
excited: I’m not going to tell ye
where) to claim the reward, for ye
don’t know where to go. ‘Tis a white
elephant it would be on your hands.”
“It does not seem to strike mon
sieur that there are other ways of
finding out who offers the reward,”
the vicomte suggested icily.
“I can see ye wandering around ask
ing somebody please to relieve ye of
the Pool of Flame and pay ye a com
mission. I wonder how long ye think
ye’d last. But ’tis no use trying to
hoodwink me: I don’t believe one
word ye say. I’ll wait until I find out
the truth before I bother meself with
ye.”
Their persistence in hinting that
they had gained possession of the
ruby perplexed and discomfited him.
He did not believe it; ’twas incon
ceivable: yet—he had known stranger
things to happen. StUl, without a
clue, to have stumbled upon the se
cret, to have made off with it from
under the very nose of the Governor-
General —! No; it was not reason
able to ask him to believe all that.
Nevertheless, when he arrived at
Algiers, his anxiety had grown so
overpowering that he called a cab and
desired to be conveyed post-haste to
the Palace de la Government.
CHAPTER X.
It was high noon when O’Rourke
drove up before the Palace of the
Governor-General. Weary, dusty and
travel-stained as he was, he hesitated
no instant about sending in his name
and requesting an interview with the
representative of France’s sovereign
power.
Disappointment awaited him at the
very outset; disappointment in the
shape of word that his excellency was
away. But the name of O’Rourke was
one well and favorably known in the
province, and secured him an invita
tion to ascend to the Governor’s office
and state his business —if he cared
to do so—-to the gubernatorial secre
tary.
Upon consideration he accepted, and
a little later w r as seated in a broad,
low, cool room in the old Moorish
palace, the affable secretary— a
young, lively and engaging French
man—solicitously sounding him as to
his errand.
It was obviously the office of a man
of great affairs, presenting an eminent
ly business-like look for all its Ori
ental setting. To one side, set in the
solid masonry of the wall, was a mas
sive safe with doors ajar, exposing a
cavity well stocked with documents.
It occurred to the adventurer that
such a safe might easily have been
the place of security selected by the
Governor-General for anything he held
in trust. He built upon It a theory
whilst he listened —nor lost a point—
and replied to the secretary.
The latter regretted excessively
that his excellency was absent: his
excellency would undoubtedly be deso
lated when he returned and found he
had missed Colonel O’Rourke.
"He’ll be back soon, monsieur?”
“Alas, no!” with a shrug. “He is
en route for Paris —possibly arrived
by this moment —on matters of state.”
“And he left?”
“Several days since, monsieur.”
“You know nothing of this package,
indorsed with the name of Monsieur
Chambret?”
To the contrary: the secretary knew
it very well. He could place his hand
upon it at any moment —monsieur
would appreciate that he durst not
surrender it without the Governor’s
authority.
O’Rourke drew a long sigh of relief
and was abruptly conscious of fatigue
and a desire to get away and rest.
“I’m obliged to ye,” he said slowly,
rising. “I’ll have to wait until the
Governor returns, I presume. . . .
By the way, are ye be any chance ac
quainted with Monsieur le Vicomte
des Trebes?”
But certainly; the vicomte was a
great friend of his excellency’s. He
had dined with his excellency some
thing over a week since, just prior to
the latter’s departure.
“And I take it ye have seen nothing
of the gentleman since?”
“On the contrary, monsieur: the vi
comte called here but two days ago.”
It appeared that he had desired some
trifling information, with which the
secretary had obliged him.
“Ye ’didn’t happen to leave him
alone in this room?”
The secretary, plainly much per
plexed by this odd catechism, ad
aaittea that such had beep the
the pursuit of the desired data had
'necessitated his absence from the Gov
ernor’s room for a matter of some ten
minutes.
“But ye say ye can put your hand
on this package?”
“But certainly, monsieur.”
“Would ye mind making sure ’tis
safe. 'Twould save me a deal of
waiting, perhaps—”
With alacrity and a smile that de
precated his visitor’s anxiety over so
trifling a matter, the secretary rose,
went to the safe and confidently
enough thrust a hand into one of the
pigeon-holes. The hand came forth
empty, A frown of bewilderment
clouded the secretary’s face. “It must
be here,” he announced with convic
tion. “It was in plain sight and la
belled with the name of Monsieur
Chambret . . .” He turned. “If
Monsieur le Colonel will but return in
half an hour, I undertake then to
show him the packet itself. I shall by
then have found it —but assuredly!”
“Ye are very courteous, monsieur.
I will return.”
This he did —in two hours. The
packet had not been found; the sec
retary, in a flutter of nerves, confessed
that through some culpable negligence
it must have been misplaced. An ex
tended search was even then in
progress. It would surely come to
light before evening.
“Thank ye; I shan’t be back,” re
turned O’Rourke grimly; and went
away, downcast for the first time
since the Inception of the adventure.
“Faith! and to think I would not be
lieve the truth when they slapped me
face with it! And all the time, belike,
’twas in the vicomte’s own f'ocket! .
. .” But he had no vocabulary ade
quate to the task of expressing his
self-contempt.
Disconsolate, conceiving that he had
proven himself a blind, egregious fool,
he plodded with heavy steps and a
hanging head back to his hotel;' where
the crowning stroke of the day was
presented to him in the shape of a
note, by the hand of a black Eiskri
porter.
“Monsieur le Colonel Terence
O’Rourke. Be hand,” he conned the
address. “Faith, and what’s this?”
“If Monsieur le Colonel O’Rourke
will do Monsieur des Trebes the hon
or of dining with him, at seven or
seven-thirty this evening, at the Villa
i’Orleans, St. Eugene, an arrangement
satisfactory to both himself and Mon
sieur le Vicomte may be consummat
ed.
“R. S. V, P. —The bearer waits.”
A trap? A subterfuge? A trick to
throw him off the scent whilst the two
blackguards escaped with their booty?
The adventurer frowned darkly over
it, dubious. Then, in a flush of reck
lessness, he seized a sheet of paper
from a near-by desk, scrawled a
formal acceptance of the strange invi
tation, and handed ft to the Biskri boy.
“All to gain, naught to lose,” he sum
med up the state of mind which had
dictated his response; and at six-
thirty, with brow and eye serene, he
left the hotel in a carriage bound for
the suburb of St. Eugene—and heaven
ktiew where besides!
CHAPTER XI.
The Villa d’Orleans proved to be a
handsome house of white stone, situ
ated in extensive and well-groomed
grounds, on a height outside the town,
overlooking the Mediterranean. So
complete and elegant seemed the es
tablishment, indeed, viewed from with
out or within’ that O’Rourke’s suspic
ions were stimulated and his certainty
that he was being played with resolv
ed into a pretty definite conviction,
as he waited in the broad hallway.
It was inconceivable that a man like
Des Trebes, so reduced as to be un
der the necessity of stealing—even of
stealing so considerable a sum as a
hundred thousand pounds—could main
tain so Imposing an establishment.
His uneasy conjectures were inter
rupted when the vicomte appeared to
welcome his guest. Suave, dressed
properly for the occasion, showing
traces neither of fatigue nor of his
antipathy for O’Rourke, blandly ignor
ing the peculiarities of the situation
which his own inexplicable Invitation
had created, he presented himself in
the guise of a gracious host.
“Monsieur,” he declared, bowing to
O’Rourke (but with a care not to
offer his hand), “overpowers me with
his condescension and punctuality. I
can only regret”—with a significant
glance at the bulge of the adventur
er’s coat—“that he thought it wise to
come armed.”
“ ’Tis a habit I find it hard to break
meself of.” O’Rourke offered the in
adequate explanation in a dry and
coolish tone.
“It was unnecessary, I assure mon
sieur.”
“Faith, I’m convinced ’twill prove
so.”
Tactfully the vicomte digressed
from the unpleasant topic. “I have
asked you here, monsieur,” he said
with an air of deprecation, “to confer
with me on business after we have
dined. I trust the arrangement suits
your convenience.”
“I’m content, monsieur.”
“I regret that circumstances pre
vent me from receiving you under
my own roof-tree. The Villa d’Orleans
is the property of a dear friend,
merely loaned me during my stay in
Algiers.”
“Ye’re fortunate in your choice of
friends.”
Over his next remark Des Trebes
faltered a trifle, with a curious smile
that O’Rourke failed to fathom. “Mon
sieur Glynn,” he said, “is —ah —a trifle
indisposed—the sun. Nevertheless, I
believe he will join us during dinner,
if you will be so kind as to excuse
him—?”
“I could do very well without him.”
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BOW
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A Frc.vn of Bewilderment Clouded the Sec.’ctary’e Face.
l\ / I ;l
The vicomte caught the eye of 1
servant, and, “Dinner is announced,’
he said. “Do me the honor to ao
company me to the table.”
In the course of time, as the vlcomt<
had predicted, the Honorable Bertk
joined them; and on sight O’Rourke
diagnosed the “indisposition” as plair
intoxication. The Englishman was
deep in his cups, far too deep to ape
the urbanity of his host. He favored
O’Rourke with a curt nod and a surly
look, then slumped limply into a chali
and called for champagne, which he
drank greedily and with a sullen ait,
avoiding the vicomte’s eye. Before
dessert was served he passed into a
black humor, and sat mutely glower
ing at his glass (what time he was
not unsteadily filling it) without re
gard for either of his companions.
When the cloth was cleared ant
the servants had withdrawn, Des Tre
bes definitely cast aside pretence. A
cigarette between his lips, he lounged
in his chair, eyelids drooping ovei
eyes that never left his guest’s while
either spoke. A cynical smile pre
faced his first words.
“So,” he said, “the farce is over.
Some regard for the conventions wat
necessary before the servants of my
friend, the owner of this villa. Now,
we can be natural, Monsieur le Colo
nel.”
“Be all means; I cannot say I found
the play diverting, despite the skill of
your friend’s chef. I gather ye wish
to get to business? Well —I’m wait
ing.” O’Rourke pulled at a cigar,
honoring the man with a cat-like at
tention. He had no longer to watch
the honorable; the latter had wil
fully relieved him of the necessity.
“You have been then,” pursued the
vicomte, without further circumlocu
tion, “t_o the pal<t£e of Monsfeur Te
“I have —unfortunately a few day*
to£ ]ate, it seems.” .
“You are satisfied—?”
“I’m satisfied that the Pool of
Flame has been stolen.”
“Then you will probably believe
me when I declare myself the male
factor. It was an easy matter: I
purposely brought up the name of
Chambret. in conversation with the
Governor and by him was Informed
of the existence of the packet—which,
of course, I had already surmised.
Afterward . . . the secretary was
absent, the safe open, the name on the
packet stared me in the face. What
could I do?”
“Precisely. I’m convinced that, be
ing what ye are, ye did only what ye
could.”
The vicomte bowed, amusement
dickering in his glance. “Touched,”
le admitted. . . . “Well . . . I
nave the jewel, you the information.”
(TO BE CONTINUED.)
Realization usually comes as soma
thing of a jolt, after anticipation.
DOES YOUR BACK ACHE?
Aches and Twinges Point to hms
Kidney Trouble. de '
Have you a lame back, aching dai
and night? Do you feel a sharp Pa
after bending over? When the kidL?
seem sore and the action irregular
use Doan’s Kldn/y
AW pllls - which have
A cure< * thousands
M J ' W ’ Priest
Third St.,
1 waa in aW fu
rA con dition from kid
Y 1 ney trouble, hav
U IDS . run dow n li
- """ height from 22(
I ■ jVka *° 150 founds. Ths
“Ar/rr V pains across my
s? a " d ' olm
were constantly
growing worse and
kidney secretioni
caused untold annoyance. Doan’s Kid
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and I have had no trouble since.” *
“When your Back is Lame, Remem
Jer the Name—-DOAN’S.”SOc all stores
Foster-Milburn Co., Buffalo, N, y
Fully Assimilated.
Ray S. Baker, the author, in an ar
gument on immigration at Lawrence,
cited the marvelous speed wherewith
the immigrant family, be it German
or French or what not, becomes as
similated into the national life.
“An instance of this assimilation oc
curs to me,” he said. ”1 know a
worthy Neapolitan, one Paoli Cencl,
who came to this country three years
ago. Paoli’s little son, Francesco, an
American citizen of seven, looked up
from his school books, the other eve
uing to ask:
“ ‘Say, pa, what year was it you
Italians discovered us in?’”
Paradise Lost.
“Blingley, why does Oldboy refuse
to speak to you? You used to be great
friends.”
“Yes, when we were bachelors; but
ne’s married now.”
“And what difference does that
make?”
“Well, the fajet is, I made him a
handsome wedding present of a book,
and he hasn’t spoken to me sines.’’
“What was the book?”
. “Paradice Lost.”
Saving Steps.
Gibson —But the house is over a
mile from the station, you admit.
Agent—Yes, but the rooms are so
small you will only have to walk the
baby eight feet from his little crib-
Harper’s Bazar.
As soon as a woman discovers that
she is unable to reform her husband
she begins on her neighbors.
-/i»b %
Dyspeptics, despair not! While there’!
Garfield Tea, there’s hope.
£ XT
Don’t kick till you know just whero
the shoe pinches.
BACKACHE
NOTADISEISE
But a Symptom, a Danger Sig*
nal Which Every Woman
Should Heed.
Backache is a symptom of organic
Weakness or derangement If you have
backache don’t neglect it. To get per
manent relief you must reach the root
of the trouble. Read about Mrs. Wood
all’s experience.
Morton’s Gap, Kentucky.—“l sufferet
two years with female disorders, my
■ lij_ HI IMH I :.:i health was very bat
'■ and I hadacontinua
backache which wai
simply awful. Icoul<
irsl? not stand on my feel
lon & enou £ h . lo c ,
’ J ■ a nieal’3 victual:
V without my back
nearly killing me,
// and I would havt
jAf/l / f // such dragging sensa
/It f //// Il tions I could hardly
1 11 I Ll 1 bear it. I had sore
ness in each side, could not stand tig
clothing, and was irregular. I was co
pletely run down. On advice 1
Lydia E. Pinkham’s Vegetable Com
pound and am enjoying good hea •
is now more than two years and
not had an ache or pain since. 1
my own work, washing and every
and never have backache any F°r •
your medicine is grand and 1 -
it to all my’neighbors. If y° u ’
testimony will help others you m y P
lish it’’-Mrs. Ollie Woodall, M
ton’s Gap, Kentucky. . , n b
If you have the s ightest dou
that Lydia E- writ*
bje Compound will helpyow
to Lydia E.Pinkliam
(confidential) Lynn, , )en ed
Vice. Your letter ope^ n
read and answered a
and held in strict confidenc
TH ENEWFRENC HR EME DY in Frenc
FILES, CHRONIC ULCERS, SkIN EBvr pR u U
fiend address envelope tKaD IoNDO* 1
UKD. CO.. HAVERSTOCK RD., HAM* » -
IfYoU WA»T TO BpIN os
MOST BEAUTIFUL.
tn this state; 114 a. in Wa'wor “ [ e aV pre.. *
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