Genre Romance. Page - 14

ing packages by the door. Dayne didn't know what the fuss had been about. The man's hair had regrown in a mere matter of months."Just a moment, please." Whoever was calling after midnight could only be bringing trouble with them. For a while, after what was later called: the tribal massacre, the lone hero had darkened his door, convinced Dayne was up to something nefarious and had to be taken down. Or another Cary Town villain decided to rise to infamy and needed Dayne out of the way

Riches, leisure, opportunity to study for a career upon his stage, are mine if I desire.""Dost thou desire this, little Ilse?" "Yes." "And the man Venem who has followed thee so long?" "I cannot be what he would have me--a Hausfrau--to mend his linen for my board and lodging." "And the Fatherland which placed me here on outpost?" "I take thy place when God relieves thee." "So ist's recht!... Grüs Gott--Ilse----" * * * *

er twentieth year, when from a young girl she became a woman, ambition suddenly awoke in her with maturity. And one morning as she came out of a deep sleep, two hours past mid-day, quite tired from having slept too much, she turned over on her breast across the bed, her feet apart, rested her cheek in her hand and with a long golden pin pierced with little symmetrical holes her pillow of green linen. She reflected profoundly. There were at first four little points which made a square and a

steel bars. "Depend upon it, though, he feels this more than he shows. Why, it's the only friend he ever had in the world--or ever will have, in all probability. However, it's no business of mine," with which comforting reflection he began to whistle as he turned over the pages of the private day-book of the firm.It is possible that his son's surmise was right, and that the gaunt, unemotional African merchant felt an unwonted heartache as he hailed a hansom and drove out to his

nothing to do with anger, felt his blood grow hot at the cowardly trap laid for an innocent girl."Old Al won't listen to me," pondered Dale. "An' even if he did, he wouldn't believe me. Maybe nobody will. . . . All the same, Snake Anson won't get that girl." With these last words Dale satisfied himself of his own position, and his pondering ceased. Taking his rifle, he descended from the loft and peered out of the door. The night had grown darker, windier, cooler; broken

f the grille in Seventy-third Street.He leaned against the bars, panting, but completely and thoroughly reveneered. "Of all the colossal tomfools!" he said, aloud. "What in thunder am I going to do now?" "Well, Aloysius," boomed a heavy voice, which was followed by a still heavier hand, "you might come along with me; the walking's good. Bell out o' order? Was there any beer in the ice-chest?" The policeman peered under the peak of Armitage's cap. "I

d glance about him as he recovered his balance assured him that pursuit would be futile. The man had darted off down a narrow turning which had led into a maze of streets. Already his rapid footsteps had ceased to echo on the pavement; he was lost by this time in the busy restless throng of Saturday night foot-passengers. The Doctor, abandoning any idea of chasing and securing him, lost not a moment in doing what he could. The short street was a new one, having on one side a neglected piece of

used a youngman, the following day in the little hamlet of Tafelberg, towhistle as he carefully read it over."I am glad that I am not the mad king of Lutha," he saidas he paid the storekeeper for the gasoline he had just pur-chased and stepped into the gray roadster for whose greedymaw it was destined. "Why, mein Herr?" asked the man. "This notice practically gives immunity to whoever shootsdown the king," replied the traveler. "Worse still, it givessuch an