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SYNOPSIS. r ■ Ceor?e Borclval Algernon Jones, vlre- I president of the Metropolitan Oriental e Rut: company of New York, thirsting tor 1 leirance, is In Cairo on a business trip, Horace Ryanno arrives at the hotel In .Cairo with a carefully guarded bundle. yanne sells Jones the famous holj' Yhi .fljfdes rug which he Admits having stolen Jjfom a pasha at Bagdad. Jones meets Callahan and later Is introduced to j*prtune Chedsoye by a woman to whom Jpt had loaned 150 pounds at Monte Carlo ■Onto months previously, and who turns Out to be Fortune's mother. Jones takes Mrs. Chedsoye and Fortune to a polo *ame. Fortune returns to Jones the money borrowed by her mother. Mrs, Chedsoye appears to be engaged In some '■■yaterious enterprise unknown to the gaughter. Ryanno interests Jones in the United Romance and Adventure com mrny. a concern which for a price will •rrangc.any kind of an adventure to or- Stor. Mrs. Chedsoye, her brother. Major Callahan. Wallace and Ryanno, as the United Romance and Adventure company, Man a risky enterprise Involving Jones. Ryanne makes known to Mrs. Chedsoye Ola Intention to marry Fortune. Mrs. Chedsoye declares she will not. permit it. '.Wans are laid to prevent Jones sailing tOr home. Ryanno steals Jones’ letters •nd cable dispatches. He wires agent In How York, In Jones’ name, that he Is tjntlng house in Now York to some friends. Mahomed, keeper of the holy •Srpet, Is on Ryanne’s trail. Ryanno Jromlsea Fortune that he will see that Ones comes to no harm as a result of his [(•Urchase of the nig. Mahomed accosts Ryanno and demands the Yhiordes rug. 0 Ryanno tells him Jones has the rug and 0 Suggests the abduction of the New York merchant as a means of securing its re turn. Il' H CHAPTER X.— (Continued.) ( Stubborn as the lock was, persever -1 tecc overcame it. George then, as a I flight diversion, spread the ancient , Yhiordes over the trunk and Vared at j It in pleasurable contemplation. What fr beauty It was! What exquisite blue. What soft red, what minute patterns! And this treasure was his. He leaned 1 down upon it with his two hands. A color stole into his cheeks. It had its i source in an old confusion; school boys jeering a mate seen walking home from school with a girl. It was fUI rot, he perfectly knew, this wlsh -1 ibg business; and yet he flung into the 1 Bun-warmed, sun-gilded space an ar t d|ent wish, sent it speeding round the 1 World from east to west. Fast as heat, I fast as light it traveled, for no sooner 1 had it sprung from his mind than it 1 entered the window of a room across : the corridor. Whether the window was ■ open or shut was of no importance Whatever. Such wishes penetrated and 1 Went through all obstacles. And this one touched Fortune’s eyes, her hair, her lips; it caressed her in a thousand 1 happy ways. But, alas! such wishes 1 We without temporal power. Fortune never knew. She sat in a Chair, her fingers locked tensely, her eyes large and set in gaze, her lips compressed, her whole attitude one of Impotent despair. George did not see her at lunch, and ' It What a Beauty It Was. .consequently did not enjoy the hour. Was she ill? Had she gone away? "Would she return before he started? Be greeted the Major as one greets a long-lost friend; and by gradations George considered clever Indeed, pWfought the conversation down to For m#ne. No, the Major did not know ipere she was. She had gone early IB the bazaars. Doubtless she was Hnchlng alone somewhere She had trick of losing herself at times. ’V*. CUcdsoye was visiting friends at Shepheard’s. When did Mr. Jones leave for America? What! on the mor row? The Major shook his head re gretfully. There was no place like Cairo for Christmas. George called a carriage, drove about the principal streets and shop ping districts, and used his eyes dili gently; but it was love’s labor lost. Not even when he returned at tea-time did he see her. Why hadn’t he known and got up? He could have shown her the bazaars; and there wasn’t a drago man in Cairo more familiar with them than he. A wasted day, totally wasted. He hung about the lounging-room till it was time to go up and dress for dinner. Tonight (as if the gods had turned George's future affairs over to the care of Momus) he dressed as if he were going to the opera; swallow tail, white vest, high collar and white lawn cravat, opora-Fedora. and thin soled pumps; all tl. so habiliments and deml-habiliment.s supposed to make the man. When he reached what he thought to be the glass of fashion and the mold of form, he turned for the first time toward his trunk. He did not rub his eyes; it wasn’t at all necessary; the thing he saw, or rath er did not see, was established beyond a doubt, as plainly definite ns two and two are four. The ancient Yhiordes had taken upon itself one of the po tentialities of its fabulous prototype, that of invisibility; it was gone. CHAPTER XI. Episodic. Fortune had immediately returned from the bazaars. And a kind of tor por blanketed her mind, usually so fertile and active. For a time the process of the evolution of thought was denied Her; she tried to think, but there was an appalling lack of continu ity, of broken threads. It was like one of those circumferential railways; she traveled, but did not get anywhere. Ryanne had told her too much for his own sake, but too little for hers. She sat back in the carriage, inert and listless, and indetermlnedly likened her condition to driftwood in the ebb and flow of beach-waves. The color and commotion of the streets were no longer absorbed; It was as if she were riding through emptiness, through the unreality of a dream. She was oppressed and stifled, too; harb inger of storms. Mechanically she dismissed the car riage at the hotel, mechanically she went to her room, and in this semi conscious mood sat down in a chair, and there George's wish found her, futllely. Oh, there was one thing clear, clear as the sky outside. AH was not right; something was wrong; and this wrong upon one side con cerned her mother, her uncle and Ryanne, and upon the other side, Mr. Jones. Think and think as she might, her endeavors gave her no single illu mination. Pour blind walls surround ed her. 1 The United Romance and Ad venture company—there could not pos sibly bo such a thing in existence; it was a jest of Ryanne’s to cover up something far more serious. She pressed her eyes with a hand. ”5^ of HEARTS AND /AASKS Uio A\AK OA THE BOX ct&.. llKistraliorvs by ♦ . . COPYRIGHT 1911 by BOBBg - /MERRILL COMPA/SY ♦ They ached dully, the dull pain of be wilderment, which these days recur red with frequency. A sense of time was lacking; for luncheon hour came and passed without her being definite ly aware of it. This in itself was a puzzle. A jaunt, such as she had ta ken that morning, always keened the edge of her appetite; and yet, there was no craving whatever. Where was her mother? If she would only come now, the cumulative cloubls of all these months should he put into speech. They had treated her as one would treat a child; it was neither just nor reasonable. If not us a child, but as one they dared not trust, then they were afraid of her. But why? She pressed her hands to gether, impotently. Ryanne, clever as ho was, had made a slip or two which he hud sought to cover up with a Jest. Why should he confess himself to be a rogue unless his tongue had got the better of his discretion? If he was a rogue, why should her mother and her uncle make use of him, if not for roguery’s sake? They were fools, fools! If they had but seen and understood her us she was, she would have gone to the bitter end with them, 'loyally, with sealed lipn. But no; they had chosen not to see; and in this had morally betrayed her. Ah, it rankled, and the injustice of it grew from pain to fury. At that moment, had she known anything, she certainly would have denounced them. Of what use was loyalty, since none of them sought it in her? The Major was wiser than he knew when he spoke of the hundredth dan ger, the danger unforeseen, the danger against which they could make no preparation. And he would have been first to sense the irony of it could lie have seen where this danger lay. Why should they wish the pleasant young man out of the way? Why should Ryanne wish to inveigle him into the hands of this man Mahomed? Was it merely self-preservation, or something deeper, more sinister? Think! Why couldn’t she think of something? It was only a little pleas ure trip to Cairo, they had told her, and when she had asked to go along, they seemed willing enough. But they had come to this hotel, when formerly they had always put up at Shep heard’s. A- here again the question why? Was it because Mr. Jones was staying here? She liked him, what lit tle site had seen of him. He was out of an altogether different world than that to which she was accustomed. He was neither Insanely mad over cards nor a social idler. He was a young man with a real interest in life, a worker, notwithstanding that he was reputed to be independently rich. Ami her mother had once borrowed money of him, never intending to pay it back. The shame of it! And why should she approach him l*ie very first day and recall the incident, if not with the ul terior purpose of using him further? Asa bail strikes a wall only to re bound to the thrower, so it was with all these questions. There was never any answer. Tired out, mentally and physically, she laid her head upon the cool top of the stand. And in this position her mother, who had returned to dress for tea, found her. Believing Fortune to bo asleep, Mrs. Chedsoye dropped a hand upon her shoulder. Fortune raised her head. “Why, child, what is the matter?” the mother asked. The face she saw was not tear-stained; it was as cold and passionless as that by which sculp tors represent their interpretations of Justice. “Matter?” Fortune spoke, in a tone that did not reassure the other. “In the first place I have only one real question to ask. It depends upon how you answer it. Am I really your daughter?” , “Really my daughter?” Mrs. Ched soye stepped back, genuinely aston ished. "Really my daughter? The child is mad!” as if addressing an im aginary third person. “What makes you ask such a silly question?” She was in a hurry to change her dress, but the new attitude of this child of hers warranted some patience. "That is no answer,” said Fortune, with the unmoved deliberation of a prosecuting attorney. "Certainly you are my daughter.” “Good. If you had denied it, I should have held my peace; but since you admit that I am of your flesh and blood, I am going to force you to rec ognize that in such a capacity I have some rights. I did not ask to come into this world; but Insomuch as I am here, I propose to become an indi vidual, not a thing to be given bread and butter upon sufferance. I have been talking with Horace. I met him In the bazaars this morning. He said some things which you must answer.” “Horace? And what has he said, pray tell?” Her expression was flip pant, but a certain inquietude pene trated her heart and accelerated its beating. What had the love-lorn fool said to the child? “He said that he was not a good man, and that you tolerated him be cause he ran errands for you. What kind of errands?” Mrs. Chedsoye did not know r wheth er to laugh or take the child by the shoulders and shake her soundly. "He was laughing when he said that. Er rands? One would scarcely call St that.” "Why did you renew the acquaint ance with Mr. Jones, when you knew that, you never intended paying back that loan?” Here was a question, Mrs. Chedsoye realized, from the look of the child, that would not bear evasion. “What makes you think I never in tended to repay him?” Fortune laughed. It did not sound grateful in the mother’s ears. "Mother, this is a crisis; it can not be met by counter-questions nor by flippancy. You know' that you did not Intend to pay him. What I de mand to know is, why you spoke to him again, so affably, why you seemed so eager to enter Into his good graces once more. Answer that.” Her mother pondered. For once she was really at a loss. The unexpected ness of this phase caught her off her balance. She saw one thing vividly, regretfully: she had missed a valuable point in the game by not adjusting her play to the growth of the child, who had, with the phenomenal sud denness which still baffles the psy chologists, stepped out of girlhood into womanhood, all in a day. What a fool she had been not to have left the child at Mentone! “I am waiting,” said Fortune. “There are more questions; but I want this one answered first.” "This is pure insolence!” "Insolence of a kind, yes." “And I refuse to answer. I have some authority still.” "Not so much, mother, as you had yesterday. You refuse to explain?” "Absolutely!” “Then I shall Judge you without mercy.” Fortune rose, her eyes blaz ing passionately. She caught, her mother by the wrist, and she was the stronger of the two. “Can’t you un- “Certainly You Are My Daughter.” derstand? 1 am no longer a child, I am a woman. I do not ask, I demand!" She drew the older woman toward her, eye to eye. "You palter, you always palter; palter and evade. You do not know what frankness and truth are. Is the continual evasion calculated to still my distrust? Yes, I distrust you, you, my mother. You have made the mistake of leaving me alone too much. I have always distrusted you, but I never knew why.” Mrs. Chedsoye tugged, but ineffectu ally. "Let go!” "Not till I have done. Out of the patchwork, squares have been formed. What of the men who used to come to the villa and play cards with Uncle George, the men who went away and never came back? What of your long disappearances of which I knew noth ing except that one day you vanished and upon another you came back? Did you think that 1 was a fool, that 1 had no time to wonder over these things? You have never tried to make a friend of me; you have al ways done your best to antagonize me. Did you hate my father so much that, when his death put him out of range, you had to concentrate it upon me? My father!” Fortune roughly flung aside the arm. "Who knows about him, who he was, what he was, what he looked like? Asa child, I used to ask you, but never would you speak. All I know about him nurse told me. This much has always burned my mind: you married him for wealth that he did not have. What do you mean by this simple young man across the corridor?" .Mrs. Chedsoye was pale, and the ar tistic touch of rouge upon her cheeks did not disguise the pallor. The true evidence lay in the whiteness of her nose. Never in her varied life had she felt more helpless, more Impotent. To be wild with rage, and yet to be powerless! That alertness of mind, that mental buoyancy, which had al ways given her the power to return a volley in kind, had deserted her. Moreover, she was distinctly alarmed. This little fool, with a turn of her hand, might send tottering into ruins the skillful planning of months. “Are you in love with him?” aiming to gain time to regather her scattered thoughts. "Love?” bitterly. “I am in a fine mood to love any one. My question, my question,” vehemently; “my ques tion!” “I refuse absolutely to answer you!” Anger was first to reorganize its forces; and Mrs. Chedsoye felt the heat of it run through her veins. But, oddly enough, it was anger directed less toward the child than toward her own palpable folly and oversight. “Then I shall leave you. I will go out into the world and earn my own bread and butter. Ah,” a little brok enly, "if you had but given me a little kindness, you do not know how loyal I should have been to you! But no; 1 am and always have been the child that wasn’t wanted.” The despair in the gesture that fol lowed these words stirred the moth er’s calloused heart, moved It strange ly. mysteriously. "My child!” she said impulsively, holding out her hands. "No.” Fortune drew back. "It Is too late.” "Have It so. But. you speak of go ing out into the world to earn your own bread and butter. What do you know tbout the world? What could you do? You have never done any thing but read romantic novels and moon about in the flower-garden. Foot iah ct-Jt! Harm Mr. Jones? Whyt For wflat purpose? I have no more interest !n him than it he were on# of those mummies over in the muse* um. And I certainly meant to repay him. I should have done so if yon hadn’t taken the task upon your Own broad shoulders. I am in a hurry. I am going out to Mena House to I’ve let Celeste off for the day, so please unhook my waist and do not bother your head about Mr. Jones.’* She turned her back upon her daughter, quite confident that she had for the time suppressed the incipient rebel lion. She heard Fortune crossing the room. “What are you doing?” petu lantly. “I am ringing for the hall-maid.* And Fortune resumed her chair, picked up her Baedeker, and became apparently absorbed over the map of Assuan. Again wrath mounted I 'to her moth er’s head. She could combat anger, tears, protestations; but this IndlfTer ence, studied and unflllal, left her weaponless: and she was too wise to unbridle her tongue, much as sha longed to do so. She was beaten. Not an agreeable sensation to one who counted only her victories. “Fortune, later you will be sorry fo* this spirit," she said, when she felt the tremor of wrath no longer in hof throat. Fortune turned a page, and jotted down some notes with a pencil. Sad as she was at heart, tragic as she knew the result of this outbreak to be, she could hardly repress a smile at the thought cf her mother’s die oomflture. And so the chasm widened, end went on widening till the end of tim(L Mrs. Chedsoye was glad that the hall-maid knocked and came in juat then. It at least saved her the ig nominy of a retreat. She dressed, however, with the same deliberate care that she had always used. Noth* ing ever deranged her sense of pro* portion relative to her toilet, nothing ever made her forget its importance, “Cood-by dear,” she said, “I shall bo in at dinner.” If the maid had any suspicion that there had been a quarrel, she should at least be Im pressed with the fact that she, Mjh, Chedsoye, was not to blame for It Fortune nibbled the end of her pen cil. The door closed behind het roothoj and the maid. She waited for a times Then she sprang to the window and stood there. She saw her mother driven off. She was dressed In pearl grey, with a Reynolds hat of grey velour aud sweeping plumes: as hand some and distinguished a woman as could be found that day In all Cairo, The watcher threw her Baedeker, ho* note-book, and her pencil violently into a corner. It had come to her at last, this thing that she had been striving for since noon. She did not care w'hat the risks were; the storm was too high in her heart to listen to the voice of caution. She would do it; for she judged it the one thing; in justice to her own blood, she must accomplish. She straightway dressed for the street; and if she did not give the same care as her mother to the vital function, she produced an effect that merited comparison. She loitered before the porter’s bu reau till she saw him busily engaged in answering questions of some wom en tourists. Then, with a slight bnl friendly nod, she stepped Into the bu reau and stopped before the key-rack, She hung up her key, but took It clown again, as if she had changed her mind. At least, this was the por ter’s impression as he bowed to he* in (he midst of the verbal bombard ment. Fortune went up-stairs. Ten or fifteen minutes elapsed, when she returned, hung up the key, and walked briskly toward the side-entrance at the very moment George, In his fruit* less search of her, pushed throogh the revolving doors in front. And all the time she was wondering how it was that her knees did not given un der. It was terrible. She balance*) between laughter and tears, hystert cally. (TO BE CONTINUED.) Yellow Fever Germ. The theory that mosquitoes convey the disease known as “yellow fever'* Is many years old, but It was not un til the year 1895 that It was protrey to be true. During that year Major Ronald Ross, working In India along the lines of Sir Patrick Manson’s the ory, demonstrated that mosquitoes od the genus called anopheles clartfeT conveyed the disease. In 1897-98 ea-j periments in Cuba and other parts on the world established a similar coni elusion. It is In consequence of tide discovery that the dread disease la now being so largely checked in thi countries where It has hitherto bear so destructive of human life. Improved Letter Boxes. letter boxes have been Invented fo* office buildings and apartments which deliver mail dropped into them <NB the ground floor to their owneiV rooms, even the weight of a card start) ing the elevating machinery.