The Alvin Sun. (Alvin, Tex.), Vol. 23, No. 14, Ed. 1 Friday, October 31, 1913 Page: 5 of 8
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THE ALVIN SUN. ALVIN, TEXAS
f
■
•1
<
r*-
u
vj.
strained
ex-
lieve my dream.”
"It’s a
an
‘‘He does not know that
Instantly her fin-
1
rise
true;
Mr.
CHAPTER XXIX.
CHAPTER XXX.
I Chailoner.
know
receive
her
a\
A
J
"A
learn
something ,
“No;
/
A-
N
W*/
•What Do \ ju Wish to Ask?"
was his
He tried to
be-
"1 did
f
/
A
J
y WMi
!
saw before her.
this encounter.
£
Receiving no answer to this. Mr.
Chailoner turned again to the man
who was the object of his deepest rus-
into the
is
my
Mr. Chal-
loner was without clue to this strug-
gle, but the might of it and the rays-
iw
X ' t VJ
■bout the hearth.
jrtsh to ask?" was
flpedlate Inquiry. '
^btNUBD.)
Hue
fl
fl
—II
.v-ner
, his
ar»*
thar
letter
id-
ify
if
,v I into—what?
’• • not
found
■eraon,
ie natr-
figure
-\Ve have to pjajn iny reasons for wishing to know
It w as
This
in
the newcomer, with a smile few could
i see unmoved, it offered such a con-
vviv.li. iu. u-.l ill U1O UIUIIICI, auu .
when he spoke it was mechanically*
and as if in sole obedience to the pro- piCiOns. to find him still in the daze
’ your brother. I will simply satisfy you
I upon a point which may well rouse
You remember that—
that my daughter’s last act was the
“He
I must go to
whose lim- i
! most.
; him (
on!yLS
Orwdk
ANNA KATHARINE G
AUTHOK OF “THE LEAVENV7O.UTH CASE’
wife see a re- |
,ou‘ —I \he i '-h<* early morning—
I furtively, i . .
nd pass on. ’ ™
•mont.
I Miss
inder-
»h his
ght I have a llttlje sitting-room
other side of the hall where we
I1J
fwl
K
of hers. Miss Scott was that protegee.
In seeking her, I came upon him. Do
; you require me- to say more on this
subject? Wait till I have seen Mr. Os-
her : wald Brotherson and then perhaps I
with a peculiar awakening gaze, show- can do so •
lug, Mr. Challoner thought, more in-
terest in her than in his brother, and
Chaos.
It is not difficult to understand Mr.
Chalioner’s feelings or even those of
Doris at the moment of Mr. Brother-
son's departure. But why this change
in Brotherson himself? Why this
sense of something new and terrible
rising between him and the suddenly
beclouded future? Let us follow him
to his lonely hotel room and see if we
my ; can solve the puzzle.
But first, does he understand his
so
“It Is He! It Is He!”
iifou have naa tinaft to think over
that I said and probably expect some
King real—something you could tell
teuople But it isn’t like that It’s a
piling—a belief. I’jn so sure—”
[[“Sure of what. Mi?s Scott?”
hShe gave a glance at the door be
Ire stepping up nearer He had not
taken the chair she proffered.
I: “Sure that I have seen rhe face of
Lie man who murdered her It was in
L dream, ’ she whispering! y complet-
ta|, ner great eyes misty with awe.
I: “A dream, Miss Scott?" ’* -
life his disappointment.
|j -Yes; 1 knew that it would sound
polish to you; It rounds foolish to me.
Listen to what I have
I was
.I had
write a letter at Mr. Brotherson’s
You can
prieties of the occasion. of that unimaginable thought, battling ______
not know he was ill till very ; wjth it, scoffing at It. succumbing to youth for a captivating woman.
emotions.
’’Oswald Brotherson!” he repeated; i
■ slon with manifest effort. '‘When Mr.
Brotherson came to himself he asked
if I had heard about any large boxes
having arrived at the station shipped
to his name. I said that several no-
tices of such hpd come to the house
At which he requested me to see that
they were carried at once to the
strange looking shed he had put up
for him in the woods. I thought that
they were for him, and I saw to the
thing myself. Two or three others
have come since and been taken to
I think you will find
disturbed;
usually
on
. .------ — -v- — CASE I
THE F1LIGBEE ftALL“ THE HOUSE Of TOEWHISPERING WNE51
ILLUSTRATIONS DY
CHAPLE5.W ROSSER
“ - ’ SXBEtT & SMITH
DODB, MEAD « CO J
. His last letter was a cheerful I it and all without a word,
one, and I supposed that all was right '
' till <chance revealed the truth. I came *
I was intending to come ! tery of it, drove him in extreme aglta-
Though proof
Brotherson’s
“I was directed
there may be
r IS
Xv E’.l
, ous of detaining him, when
came the sound of a little tinkle from
the other slue of the hail, blanching I he became ill. . w „„
the young girl’s cheeks and causing I that,” she added, controlling her aver-
' Orlando Brotherson’s brows to
: in peculiar satisfaction.
“My brother?” he asked.
“Yes,” came in faltering reply.
has heard our voices;
him.”
“Say that Orlando wishes him
Abi ure’ r^ouKht I heard some words
; of recognition which would prove your
I knowledge of that fact. 1 i noj know each other.
J I Ske did not answer. Her I ps had
' parted, but her thought o* at least the ■
Zij ! expression of her thought hung sus-
; pended in the terror of this meeting
w j for which she was not at al! prepared.
■je of suicide.”
LBoris trembled.
■ fit was not suicidie,” she declared.
Ktamently. “I have always felt sure
bat it was not; but today I know.’
I‘Her hand fell clenched on her breast
Lid her eyes gleamed strangely. Mr.
bialloner was himsefif greatly startled
I ’’Tve not told any one,” she went
L-i, as be stopped short in the road
If his anxiety to understand her. “But
■ Iwill tell you. Only, not here, not
tilth all these people driving past;
Irost of whom know ime Come to the
K>use later—this evening, after Mr
lE'rotherson’s room Is closed for the I
■ . on
in talk without beihg heard. Would i
tn rfninir ithat •”
“No. not at all.’ he assured
They .■
Poor ;
Oswald!” Ther aloud. “It hardly be-
comes me perhaps, to question your
motiies in this attempt at making my
brother’s acquaintance. 1 think 1 can
guess them; but your labor will be
wasted. Oswald's interests do not ex-
tend beyond this town; they hardly
extend to me. We are strangers, al-
You will learn nothing from
on the subject which naturally
engrosses you.”
Mr. Challoner simply bowed. “I do
not feel called upon,” said he, “to ex-
Mr. Challoner, with an imploring look,
to sustain her in the interview she
He had no desire for
especially j.s Mr.
Brotherson’s glance in his direction
had been anything but conciliatory.
He was quite convinced that nothing
was to be gained by it, but he could
not resist her appeal, and followed
them into the little room v ,
ited dimensions nn.de the tail Orlando |
look bigger and stronger and more
lordly in his self-confidence than ever.
“I am sorry it is so late,” she began,
contemplating his intrusive
with forced composure.
be very quiet in the evenings so as
not to disturb your brother’s first „ *
sleep which is of gteat importance to yoUr curiosity.
[t,ie
4u>
<■>« object to doini? that?"
i"No. not at all.' he assured her
'jSxpect me at eight.: Will that be tor, Fri^S
’jirly?” i [ ijyfl
j “No, no. Oh, hoW those people ■
(fared! Let us hasten back or they
t|ay coonect your name with what we ;
feast kept secret."
['He smiled at her fjears, but gave In
lj> her humor; he wtkuld see her soon I
Bpifn and possibly learn something :
wnnlrt amnlv ! ronov h<vn
Lw his trouble and Ills patience.
always j word with the man whose very pres-
ence trifled him, he had no opportun-
ity to show, for before he had taken
These last words were uttered with another step, he encountered the bur-
a lightness which imposed upon his : rylng figure of Doris, who was return-
two highly agitated hearers, causing ing to her guests with an air of
Mr. Challoner to frown and Doris to | marked relief.
shrink back in indignation at the man “He docs not know that you are
who could indulge in a sportive sug- here,” she whispered to Mr. Challoner.
gestion in presence of such fears, if ■ as she passed him. Then, as she again
not of such memories, as the situation > confronted Orlando who hastened to
evoked dismiss his trouble at her approach.
“The hour is late for further con-; she said quite gaily:
' versation. I have a room at the hotel
and will return to it at once. In
morning I hope to see my brother ”
Mr. Challoner was
quite correct in his statement.
“Men sometimes correspond who do
You knew tbit
a Brotherson lived here?”
“Yes.”
“And hoped to
about me—”
. “No; my interest was solelj’ with
He seemed to note this terror, whjeth- your brother.”
“With my brother? With Oswald? i
Whi Interest can you have in him i
.apart from me? Oswald is—”
Suddenly a thought came—an unim '
aginable one; one with power to i
blanch even his hardy cheek and I
shake a soul unassailable by all small “
him.” ' t _ __LtL.’i Lit
1 hen I m not to see him tonight?’ > writing of a letter to a little protegee
“I pray you to wait. He’s—he’s been Of hers. Miss Scott was that protegee,
a very sick man.”
“Dangerously so?”
“Yes ”
Orlando continued to regard
know very | come, nothing could ever alter his be- i
i lief from this moment on that Doris i
“My brother has not told you why | was right in her estimate of this man’s I
he expected me?” i guilt, howler unsubstantial her rea- ;
“He has not even told me that he I soning might appear.
.xpected you.” How far he might have been carried
"No?” The word was highly ex- | by this new conviction; whether he
Ueve my dream " pressive; there was surprise in it and would have left the house without see- i
Well "it was useless to reason turth- a touch of wonder, but more than al! i ing Doris again or exchanging another
er. Gentle in all else, she was im- satisfaction. “Oswald
movable so far as this idea was con-
cerned
^.M
papers
er or not. he understood its cause, and
smiled again, as he added:
“Mr. Brotherson must have spoken
of his brother Orlando. I am he. Miss
Scott. Will you let me come in now?”
Her eyes sought those of Mr Chal-
loner. who quietly nodded. Immedi-
ately she stepped from before the door I
which her figure had guarded and,
enter, she begged adding in unintelligible tones to him-
self—“O. B. The same initials!
i are following <ip these initials.
~ Then aloud:
own trouble? He does not seem to.
Eor when, his hat thrown aside, he
stops, erect and frowning under the
flaring gas jet he bad no recollection
of lighting, his first act was to lift his
hand to his head in a gesture of sur-
prising helplessness for him. while
snatches of broken sentences fell from
his lips among which could be heard:
“What has come to me? Undone tn
an hour! Doubly undone! First by
a face and then by this thought which
surely ’he devils have whispered to
me. Mr. Challoner and Oswald! What
is the link between them? Great Gcd!
what is th» link? Not myself? Who
then or what?”
Flinging himself into a chair, he
buried his face in his hands. There
were two demons to fight—the first in [
the guise of an angel. Doris! Un-
known yesterday, unknown an hour
ago: but now! Had there ever been
a day—an hour—when she had not
been as the very throb of his heart,
’he light of his eyes, and the crown of
all imaginable blisses?
This was no passing admiration of
This
“Mr. Brotherson
heard your voice, and is glad to know
the i that you’re here. He bade me give
i you this key and say that you would
He was going, Doris not knowing j have found things in better shape if
what to say, Mr. Challoner not desir- i he had been in condition to superin-
---- , when there i tend the removal of the boxes to the
place he had prepared for you before
I was the on® to do
wrong, you
name.”
But Orlando Brotherson, displeased
by this move, took a step which
brought him between the two.
“You can hear her from here if she
There’s a point to
be settled between us before either of
us leave this house and this oppor-
tunity is as good as another. Go to
: my brother. Miss Scott; we will await
• your return.”
A flash from the proud banker’s
pye; but no demur, rather a gesture of
consent. Doris, with a lock of deep
anxiety, sped away, and the two men
stood face to face.
“Mr. Challoner, do you
brother?”
“I have never seen him.”
"Do you know him? Does he know
the glare of the light, and she stopped,
with a murmur of dismay which
pierced Mr. Chalioner’s heart and
prepared him for the words which
now fell shudderingly from her lips.
"It is he! It is he? 1 said that I
should know him wherever I saw
him.” Then with a quiet turn towards
the intruder, "Oh, why, why, did you
come here!”
murmured in
ones:
1 see it again—just as I saw it in
-tut even more
plainly, if that is possible. A hall—
(I should call it a hall, though I don’t
remember seeing any place like it be-
fore), with a little staircase at the
side, up which then comes a man. ;
who stops just at the top and looks;
ntently my way. There is fierceness
m his face—a look which means no
good to anybody—ai d as his hand
goes to his overcoat pocket, drawing
out something which 1 cannot de-
scribe, but which he handles as if it
were a pistol, I feel a horrible fear,
and—and—” The ch id was stagger-
ing. and the hand which was free had
sought her heart where it lay
clenched, the knuckles showing white
in the dim light.
Mr. Challoner watered her with di-
lated eyes, the spell under which she
spoke falling in some degree upon
him. Had she finishei? Was this all?
No; f* ’ ” ’ " * *
low, almost in a whisper.
‘,Frhere is music—crash—but
plainly see his other hand approach ;
the object he is holding. He takes
something from the ei d—the object Is
j pointed my way—I an looking into—
-«-*« i do not know. 1 can-
even see him n->w. The space
w here he-stood is emjty. Everything
fades, and I wake wi’h a loud cry in
my ears and a sense of death here.”
She had lifted her hai.d and struck at
her heart, opening het eyes as she did
so. “Yet it was not who b id been
shot," she added soft!; .
Mr. Chaliouer shudeered. This was
like the reopening oi his daughter’s
grave. But he had entered upon the
scene with a full appreciation of the
ordeal awaiting him ind he did not
lose his calmness, or the control of
his judgment.
“Be seated, Miss Scott," he entreat-
ed, taking a chair himself. “You have
described the spot ai d some of the
circumstances of my Laughter's death
as accurately as if you had been there.
But you have doubtless read a full ac-
count of those details in the papers,
possibly seen pictures which would
make the place quite real to you. The
mind is a strange storehouse. We do
not always know what lies hidden
within it.”
"That’s true,” she admitted. “But
u the man! I had never seen the man.
the fullest proof, to have been . or anv picture of him, and his face
was clearest of all. 1 should know it
if 1 saw it anywhere It is imprinted
on my memory as plainly as yours, i
Oh, I hope never to see that man!”
Leaning toward her that he might
get her full attention, he waited till
her eyes met his. then quietly asked
"Have you ever named this man to
yourself?”
She starred and dropped her eyes.
“I do not dare to,” said she.
“Why?”
“Because I’ve read in the
satisfaction. "Oswald was
dose-mouthed,” he declared.
and, seeing this, he let the Sood fault; I’m obliged to the boy”
matter go and prepared to take his “
leave.
She seemed to be quite ready for
this. Anxiety about her patient had
regained its place in her mind, and
her glance sped constantly toward the
I door. Taking her hand in his, he said
' some kind words, then crossed to the
she is speaking again, but very ■ door an(J opened lt
•iwwto* <n n j acd, obedient to ’
' I its silent injunction, he took up his
hat in silence, and was proceeding i
down the hall, when the bell rang,
startling them both and causing him
to step <iuickly b?ck.
“Who is it?” she asked. "Father’s
in and visitors seldom come so late.”
"Shall 1 see?”
She nodded, looking strangely trou
bled as the door swung open, reveal-
ing the tall, strong figure of a man
facing them from the porch.
“A stranger.” formed itself upon her
lips, and she was moving torward.
when the man suddenly stcpi-ed into >
good night,” smiled her heart’s enemy,
with a bow of infinite grace.
She shuddered, and was hastening
from the room when her glance fell
on Mr. Challoner. He was pale and
looked greatly disturbed. The pros-
pect of be;ng left alone with a man
whom she had herself denounced to
him as his daughter’s murderer, might
prove a tax to his strength to which
i she bad no right to subject him. Paus-
i ing with an appealing air, she made
Do You Know My Brother?
Her hands were thrust out to repel, :
her features were fixed; her beauty
something wonderful. Orlando Broth-
erson, thus met, stared for a moment
at the vision before him, then slowly
and with effort withdrawing his gaze,
he sought the face of Mr Challoner
with the first sign of open disturb-
ance that gentleman had ever aeen In chan(.eg t<. gpeak
"Am I In Oswald
house?” he asked,
here. But possibly
some mistake?”
“It is here he lives.” said she, mov-
ing back automatically till she stood
again by the threshold of the small
• room in which whe had received Mr.
; Challoner. “Do you wish to see him
I tonight? If so, I fear it is impossible.
He has been very ill and is not al-
' lowed to receive visits from
strangers.”
“I am not a stranger,” announced you?”
__e ?L?!d “Not at all. We are strangers.”
It was said honestly. They did not I
trast to his stern and dominating fig- ’ pnow each other.
ure.
i him a slight gesture which he at once
i understood.
“I will accompany you
hall,” said he. "Then if anything
wrong, you have but to speak
i
* >■!■■"......
t ’ -
1
I was not even the love he had given
I to Edith Challoner. He did not,know
himself. There was nothing in hi*
| whole history to give him an under
1 standing of such feelings as these.
He, Orlando Brotherson, had ne** er
thought much of love. Science had
been his mistress; ambition hir lode-
star. Miss Challoner had roused—
well, his pride. He could see that
now The might of this new emotion
made plain many things he had pasted
by as useless, puerile, unworthy of a
man of mental caliber and might. He
had never loved Edith Challoner at
any moment of their acquaintance-
ship. though he had been sincere in
i thinking that he did. Doris* beauty,
I he hour he had just passed with bur,
had undeceived him.
Did he hail the experience?
not likely to bring him joy.
young girl whose image floated
light before his eyes, would never love
him. She loved his brother. He bad
heard their names mentioned together
before he had been tn town an hour.
Oswald, the cleverest man. Doris, the
most beautiful girl in western Pei n-
sylvania.
He had accepted the gossip then;
he bad not seen her and it all seemed
v^ry natural—hardly worth a mo-
ment's thought. But now—
And here, the other demon sprang
erect and grappled with him before
the first one had let go his hold. Os-
wald and Challoner! There is more
than Fate’s caprice in Chalioner’s in-
terest in a man he never saw. Had he
found the connecting link? Had it
been—could it have been Edith? Tie
preposterous is sometimes
could it be true in this case’
He recalled the letters reaa to h:m
as hers in that room of his in Brook-
lyn. He had hardly noted them thi n,
he was so sure of their being for-
geries, gotten up by the police to mis-
lead him. Could they have been re d,
the effusions of her mind, the brea’h-
ings of her heart, directed to an ac-
tual O. B., and that O. B., his brother?
Oswald had been east, Oswald had
even been in the Berkshires before
himself. Oswald— Why it was Os-
wald who had suggested that he
should go there—go where she still
was. Why this second coincidence, if
there were no tie—If the Chailoners
and Oswald wern as far apart as th\v
seemed and as conventionalities would
naturally place them. Oswald was a
sentimentalist, but very reserved
about his sentimentalities. If these
suppositions were true, he had had a
sentimentalist’s motive for what he
did. As Orlando realized this, he rose
from his seat, aghast at the possibili-
ties confronting him from this line of
thought. Should he contemplate them?
Risk his reason by dwelling on a sup-
position which might have no founda-
tion in fact? No His brain was too
full—his purposes too important for
any unnecessary strain to be put upon
his faculties. No thinking! investigat-
ing first. Mr. Challoner should be
abie to settle this question. He would
see him. Even at this late hour he
ought to be able to find him in one of
the rooms below; and. by the force of
an irresistible demand, learn in a mo-
ment whether lie had to do with a
mere chimera of his own overwrought
fancy, or with a fact which would cfcil
into play all the resources of an hith-
erto unconquered and undaunted na-
ture.
There was a wood-fire burning in
the sitting-room that night, and around
it was grouped a number of men w.rh
their papers and pipes. Mr. Brother-
son, entering, naturally looked that
way for the man he was in search of,
an was disappointed not to find him
there; but on casting his glances else-
where, he was relieved to see him
standing in one of the windows over-
| looking the street. His back was to
the room and he seemed to be lost in a
I fit of abstraction.
Orlando was. as I have said, an extra-
ordinary specimen of manly vigor ia
body and in mind, and his presence in
any company always attracted atten-
tion and roused. If it never satisfied,
curiosity. Conversation accordingly
ceased as he strode up to Mr. Chailon-
er’s side, so that his words were quite
audible as he addressed that gentle-
i man with a somewhat curt:
I "You see me again, Mr. Challoner
; May I beg of you a few minutes’
further conversation? 1 will not d«“-
tain you long.”
The gray head turned, and the many
eyes watching showed surprise at the
expression of dislike and repulsion
with which this New York gentleman
met the request thus emphatically
urged. But his answer was courteous
enough. If Mr. Brotherson knew a
place where they would be left undis-
turbed, he would listen to him if he
would be very brief.
For reply, the other pointed to a
small room quite unoccupied which
opened out of the one in which they
then stood. Mr. Challoner bowed and
in another moment the door cloned uj>-
on them, to the infinite disappoint-
ment of the men
Mr.
I | CHAPTER XXVI11^—Continued.
| ‘"I cannot tell; I d«i> not know’,” said
| die. "Nobody knows, not even the
I doctor, what effect the news we dread
I to give him wilt have upon Mr. Broth-
■ efson. You will have to wait—we all
I s!»all have to wait the results of that
■ revelation. It cannot be kept from
■ h'!m much longer.”
■ [“You have had much to carry for
■Oi?e so young," was Mr. Chalioner’s
■»j:mpatbe’ic remark. “You must lei
■m,? help you wher, that awful moment
ytjines I am ».t the hotel and shall
there till Mr, Brotherson if.
■^•Rounced quite well. I have no
dvty now In life but to sustain
through his trouble and then
^K'itb what aid he can give, search out
^■iid find rhe cause of my daughter’s
M;ath which 1 will never admit with
COPYRIGHT J9J1 bV
_L Srsj U ____COSYWIOMT .91. t?y
monotonous 1 "But my daughter was not shot. She I lately,
died from a stab." 1 one ai
Doris' lovely face, w ith its tender I till ^chance revealed the truth,
lines and girlish curves, took on a on at once.
strange look of conviction which d’ep- anyway. 1 have business heie, as you ‘ tation from the room. , .
ened, rather than melted under hh in- ; probably know. Miss Scott.” ' was lacking, though proof might never |
dulgent, but penetrating gaze. j She shook her head.
"I k^ow that jou think so—but my little about business,” said she.
dream says no. I saw this object. It '
was pointed directly towards me—
above ail, I saw his face. It was the
face of one whose finger is on the trig-
ger and who means death; and I be- |
the same place,
nothing broken or
Brotherson’s wishes are
spected.”
"That is fortunate for me,” was the
courteous reply.
But Orlando Brotherson was not
himself, uot at all himself as he bowed
a formal adieu and withdrew past the
drawn-up sentinel-like figure of Mr
Challoner, without a motion on his
part or on the part of that gentleman
to lighten an exit which had some-
thing in it of doom and dread presage.
SYNOPSIS.
>rge Anderson ityd
table looking inaiji come •
“—t hotel, look; around
j hands tn the; snow and pas
..... ion attracts them to the Cierr
’* is fount! that the beautiful
*—Timer has fallen dead. At
.. «lbes the marl he saw wasl
' the snow. The hotel manager
» ..im to he Orlando Brotherson.
-----ans find that Miss Challoner was
sthbia-d and not shot, which sterns to
< l{*ar Brotherson of suspicion. Gry an
aijtsl detective, and Sw’eetwafer. his as
aiptani, take up the cjise. Mr Chailone-
tclls < f a batch of hitters found in
dt».ughr< r’K desk. Sixneil “O B “ All
bb-e h-tters except >nv|, which shows
k,, The write- was tlisjd|>as‘d This 1<
ssgned by Orlandti Brotherson An<
ir ricaon goes with Swrwtwater to identil
i Broth* rsen, who is found i:> a tenement
tmme of Dpnn. is an in-
the coroner Miss
with scorn when
3weet water re
murder of a
. herwoman in which som*» details were
, uilar to rhe Challoner affair. Chal-
Ijl-Ker admits his daughter was deeply
|ft<vegted. if not in lovp with Brother?
— !•» . twater gets lodgfings in tii
i bu ilding with Bro .heifson. He '
tne intentor at work At night an<
the latter The detectlv*
•oom adjoining I r—*'------
i hole in the wall
He visits h m ai
i.. son s. He
py on Broth-
roists the in-
by Sweet-
letters is
He declares
*•’ by him.
Irotherson.
.....i at once,
t the letters
:en by t wo
*?s to Derby
...” whom he
‘ Doris Scott
Jhe is
Broth <
Is the name
Sweetwater
he woods.
rked “O
lut under
hte
Ktl
p
i
Gcorj—
misrki......
’ iermont
wjtsh his
Cbmmotic
w;>er- it is to
E’ditb fhMlloru
sqn describes
hinds in ti
d«.Claris hi!
Physicia
sttiblH'd and nor
Brotherson of
aijed d» lF--tive, lu-.l
siptant, take up t
t<;lls < f a batch
ds.uglvf r’s desk.
I'b’e h-tters except
k,. the writer was <
'^S'BkS-k&ned by Oriandrl .
-icson goes with Swetlt”
j-!; Brothersen, who is fob.,
Ki funder the name of Dbi.
®fv»»nt<»r Brotherson t'-llls
«-|C.‘ia!k)n< r repulsed hirfi wit
■hh'1' off*-.red her his lovle. S'
fc.llis the mystery nf the
■ f w‘urhriwoman in which some u
■ ’similar to the vhallbner aff;
■ il--Hf.r admits his daughter was deeply- in-
■ fttlrejiied, if not in iovp with Brotherson
■ r S-veetwater gets lodgings in the same
■ wilding with Bro heifson. He watches
■ tfie inxentor at work At night and Is de
■ Vrted by the »at*er The detective moves
■' tq a room adjoining i Brotherson’s. He
■ Nres a hole In the wall to spy «
I evson. He visits him and assist
I vxntor in his work. A girl sent 1
I wtitrr with Edith Chailoners
I ordered out bv Brotherson. '
r oiP l*-1tprs were not written
| Sheet water is unrr asked by Rr
| wt<«> <•<dares lie reocrtnlzed him
r Tne discovery is made that
■ sljrned “O B.” were! writtf
■ r*-nt men. Sweetwater goes
I in, s. ar<h of the second ' () B. "
■ expects to locate th rough one ’
■ mpntior.ed in the "fetters. SI
■ ■«tlnc as nurse Oswald
■ W',. is (riticall., si.-k And call
■ nl; Edith In his delirium :
■ *■'[! ■ a row • p ''air hut in flu
K sees a load of boxes mai
It J’,'o,h»T’Wn.“ taken info the h
■ t't- supervision of Doris Scott.
but listen, sir
k tell and then you can judge.
[,jry much agitated yesterday.
11 write a lenor at mt. b
rotation—a letter ti> her.
hderetanc my horror and the effort
|i made to hide rar emotion. I wan
Lite unnerved J could not sleep till
riorning, ..nd the i—and then—I saw
|-1 hope I can describe It."
| Grasping at a nearby chair, she
1 d on it for rapport, dosing her
to all but that Inner vision. A
rcoment bjllowed. then she
_________________r'
i‘Mch would amply repay him. both I St V
|‘But wh*in evening; came and Rhe
thrmd to face him in that little sit-
h'ng-rooin where he had quietly fol-
tywed her, he was conscious of a |
Hiangv in her manner which forbade i
hjiese high hopes.
h-J don’t know whAt you will think
te’ r.e. ventreM at last, motlon-
chair bur not sitting herself j
Kfou have had tlnfe to think
khat I said and probjibly expect
1 that the man who stco; there had the
! same name as—”
“Tell me. Miss Scott ”
“As Mr. Brotherson's brother."
"But you do not thi ik it
brother?”
“1 do not know.”
"You’ve never seen his brother?”
“Never”
“Nor his picture?”
"No, Mr. Brotherson has none.’
“Aren’» they friends’ Does he nev-
er mention Orlando?"
“Very, very rarely. But I’ve no
reason to think they are not on good
terms. 1 know they c rrespond.”
"Miss Scott?”
“Yes, Mr. Challoner.
“You must not rely too much upon
your dream.”
Her eyes flashed to b a and then fell
again.
Dreams are not re.eiations; they
are the reproduction of what already
lies hidden in the mine. I can prove
that your dream is auch.”
"How?” She looked startled.
“You speak of seeing somethii
rg leveled at you whiel^Mg|
hink of a pistol "
• Yes, I v.as looking
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Bailey, Ammo. The Alvin Sun. (Alvin, Tex.), Vol. 23, No. 14, Ed. 1 Friday, October 31, 1913, newspaper, October 31, 1913; Alvin, Texas. (https://texashistory.unt.edu/ark:/67531/metapth1250735/m1/5/: accessed July 17, 2024), University of North Texas Libraries, The Portal to Texas History, https://texashistory.unt.edu.; crediting Alvin Community College.