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SYNOPSIS. CHAPTER I.-The story opens at Monte Carlo with Col. Terence O'Rourke In his hotel. O'Rourke, a military free lance and something of a gambler. Ja dressing for appearance in the restaurant below when the sound of a girlish voice ?inging attracts his attention. Leaning .ut on the balcony he sees a beautiful ?Irl who suddenly disappears. He rushes to the corridor to see a neatly gowned form enter the elevator and pass from Bight CHAPTER II.-O'Rourke's mind ls filled with thoughts of the girl, and when he goes to the gaming table he allows ht? remarkable winnings to accumulate in differently. He notices two men watch ing him. One is the Hon. Bertie Glynn, while his companion ls Viscount Des Trebes. a noted duelist. When O'Rourke leaves the table the viscount tells him he represents the French government and that he has been directed to O'Rourke as a man w!io would undertake a secret .mission. CHAPTER TH.-At his room O'Rourke, who had agreed to undertake the mission. ? awaits the viscount. O'Rourke finds a i mysterious letter in his apartment. The : Viscount nrrives. hands a sealed package I to O'Rourke. who is not to open it until) on the ocean. He says the French gov- i . ernment will pav O'Rourke 25.000 francs for his services. A pair of dainty slip-j pers are seen protruding from under a doorwav curtain and the viscount charges ! O'Rourke with having a spy secreted there. CHATTER TV.-When the Irishman goes to his room he finds there the own tar of the mysterious feet. It ls his wife. Beatrix, from whom he had run away al ,year previous. They are reconciled, and j opening the letter he hnd received, ha finds that a law firm In Rangoon, India, I offers' Mm ion ooo pounds for an Tndian jewel 1-nown as the Pool of Flame and left to him hv a dvlne friend. O'Rourke I tells Ivs wife that it is in the keeping j of a friend named Chamb*-et In Algeria. CHAPTER V-O'Rourke ls forced to ' fight a duel with the viscount Thc brag-1 gart nobleman is worsted lr. (kt combat: and acts the poltroon. CHAPTER VT.-The loyal w'ffl bids.. O'Rourke farawell and he promis?**? to l poon return with the rewa rf1 offered f<>x\ the Pool of Flame. He Jiw.-ovors bo-til Olvnn and the viscount on honr? ib?, ship which takes him tc Algeria. CHAPTER VIL- Chambret hi? :-''! Al geria and O'Rourke has tc. cain mili tary detachment going across tl'** d*SOli to reach his friend. As he find* i ho InU*] there ls an attack by band!lu ano Chambret is shot. CHAPTER vm.-Chambret d'e? te'llns O'Rourke that he ha? !?fr th? Tool ol Flame with the governor general cf M. gerU. He gives the colonel a r/iene' r'ua at the ciffht of which he say? the offMal will deliver ove'* the Jewel. CHAPTF'R TX.-O'Rourke ls attp^kei bv Glynn and (lie viscount win nuisadi Ms luggage, but he worsts them* in tin conflict. . CHAPTER X.-When he arrives at Al geria the Irishman finds th& overooi general away. He receives a net? ftorc Des Trebes making a mysterious appoint ment CHAPTER XT.-The viscount >1?| O'Rourke th--r he has galm-d posseesinij of th?? jewel by xtenlintr lt from th* ?a'i of the governor general. He rio** cot ? however, know who has offered ?he re-j ward for lt. He succrests a du?* v'th. raptors, th*? victor to get that inform*tlot and the jewel. CHAPTER XTT.-Tn the drei G'RoorTri mnstors h's- adversary and 9ecupes pos session *)f tb? Pool of Flame. CHAPTER XTIT. - The eff? ri* Ol O'Rou-ko are now directed toward st-f-fd' Hy getting to Ranch?n with the je--v-e' and he starts by ship. CHAPTER XIV.-Ile find' lite raplafi of the vessel to be a smugsrler w':o '.rivi to steal the jewel from him. CHAPTER XV.-The jewel I? Anally sc. cured by the chip's captain and* O'Rourki escapes to land. CHAPTER XVI.-With the .dd of nm Danny and his sweetheart. O'Rourke re covers the Pool of Flame. CHAPTER XVII. _ O'Rourke agr.ir forms his plan3 to pursue hf? journey lc Rangoon. CHAPTER XVIII.-On hoard sh'p .-mei more a mysterious lady appears >vkc puz zles and Interests the Irishman. CHAPTER XTX.-O'RO'irl-o comes tip on a lascar about to attack th? lady who is a Mr-. Prynne. Ho kl;!;? th? man into the hold. CHAPTER XX.-Mrs. Prvric claim she is en route for India or. a :r.!ssior for the king. CHAPTER XXT.-The ship captain. ? offered money to increase ihe epced cl the vessel toward its destination. CHAPTER XXTT.-There are suHpioIotn occurrences on board, and a tascar set-mi to be watching O'Rourke and Mrs Prynne. CHAPTER XXHL-The woman tells o| some one prowling about t:ie cabin and ?trying the door of her stateroom. ": CHAPTER XXIV.-O'Rourke ls afc -tacked by the lascar, who ?if?cures tin Pool of Flame, the captain U shot and -the lascar jumps into the sea. CHAPTER XXV.-The ship arrives it) port, and O'Rourke learns that Mr?. Prynne has preceded him ashore. I CHAPTER XXVI. - Danny nandi OTrtourke tho Pool of Flame which h? has stolen from Mrs. Prynne. It ls th? 'real jewel, the one lost at sea being a counterfeit. CHAPTER XXVII.-O'Rourke goes to Calcutta determining to get rid of th? Jewel and out of the country. CHAPTER XXVm.-He discovers Dei ?Trebes disguised and now knows thal Mrs. Prynne wai an accomplice of th? nobleman. CHAPTER XXIX.-Finally he gets tc the lawyer who has offered the reward. CHAPTER XXX.-He delivers the Jewel and the lawyer pays over the money. CHAPTER XXXI.-Going to the resi dence of the lawyer on invitation, O'Rourke finds him murdered. CHAPTER XXXII.-Des Trebes. who was probably attacked by the men who ?robbed the lawyer of the Jewel, Is found .dying. CHAPTER XXXIII.-An officer appean and O'Rourke assists him in unraveling the mystery. CHAPTER XXXIV.-Leavlng with th? reward. O?tourke has a thrilling expert . ende with a Chinese junk. CHAPTER XXXV.-O'Rourke meets hi? wife, they bid farewell to India and the ill-fated Pool of Flame, and sall for hom? f to enlov fortune and happiness. I CHAPTER 4. A still and sultry dusk had fallen, closing an oppressive, wearing day: one of those days whose sole function seems to reside In rendering us irri tably conscious of our too-cloBe cas ings of too-solid flesh; whose humid and inert atmosphere, sodden with tepid moisture, clings palpably to the body, causing men to feel as If they crawled, half-suffocated, at the bot tom of a sea of rarefied water. The hour may have been eight; it may have 1 een not quite that, but it was almost dark. The windows were oblongs, black as night in the yellow walls of O'Rourke's bedchamber in the Hotel d'Orient, Monte Carlo. I have the honor to make known to you the O'Rourke of Castle O'Rourke in the county of Galway, Ireland; otherwise and more widely known as Colonel Terence O'Rourke; a chevalier of the Legion of Honor of France; sometime an officer in the Foreign Legion in Algiers; a wander er, spendthrift, free-lance, cosmopol ite-a gentleman-adventurer, he's been termed. He was dressing for dinner. The glare of half a dozen electric bulbs dis covered him all but rer.dy for public appearance-not, howe\er, quite ready. In his shirt sleeves he faced a cheval glass, pluckily (if with the haggard eye of exasperation) endeavoring to outmaneuver a demon of inanimate perversity which had entered into his dress tie, inciting it to refuse to as sume, for all his coaxing and his strat agems, that effect of nonchalant per fection so much sought after, so sel dom achieved. Patently was the thing possessed by a devil; O'Rourke made no manner of doubt of that. Though for minutes at a time he fumbled, fidgeted, 'fumed, it was without avail. His room itself was in a state of ??'msiderable disorder-something duo mainly to O'Rourke's characteristic ef forts to find just what he might hap pen to desire at any given time with out troubling to think where it ought properly to. be. Something of this confusion, mir rored in the glass, was likewise re flected Li O'Rourke's eyes, what time I he paused for breath and profanity. "Faith, 'tis worse than a daw's nest, the place," he admitted, scandalized. "How ever did I-one lone man-do all that, will ye be telling me?" He flung out two helpless baffled hands, and let them fall. After a meditative pause he added: "Damn that Alsa tian!"-with reference to bis latest and least competent valet, who had but recently been discharged with a flea in his ear and a month's unearn ed wage in his pocket. "For knowing me ways," sighed O'Rourke, "there was never anyone the like of Danny." For as many as three livelong days this man had been reduced to the ne cessity of dressing himself with his own fair hands-and that at least thrice daily, who did nothing by halves. And, somehow, mysteriously, his discarded garments had for the most part remained where he had thrown them, despite the earnest ef forts of the femme de chambre to re store fomething resembling order from this man-made chaos. For servants all liked well the O'Rourke, improvi dent soul that he was, freehanded to a fault. You are invited to picture to your self O'Rourke as invariably he was in one of his not infrequent but ever transient phases of affluence: that is, a very magnificent figure indeed. Standing a bit over six feet, deep of chest and lean of flank, with his long, straight legs he looked what he had been meant to be, a man of arms and action. His head was shapely, its dark hair curling the least in the world; and, incredibly stained, a trans parent brown, his features were lean, eager, and rendered very attractive by quick boyish eyes in whoso warm blue-gray depths humor twinkled more often than not, though those Bame eyes were not seldom thought ful, a trace wistful, perhaps, with the look of one who recalls dear mem ories, old friends and sweethearts loved and lost . . . For he had begun to live early In life and had much to look back upon, though fer all that it's doubtful if he were more than thirty at the time he became in volved In the fortunes of the Pool of Flame. , For the rest of him, barring the re fractory tie, the man was strikingly well groomed, while his surroundings spoke for comfortable circumstances. On the authority of the absent and re gretted Danny, who had long served the O'Rourke in the Intimate capaci ties of body-servant, confidant and chancellor of the exchequer (this last, of course, whenever there happened to be any exchequer to require a chan cellor), there was never anyone at all who could spend money or wear clothes like himself, meaning the mas ter. And at this time O'Rourke was ostensibly in funds and consequently (as the saying runs) cutting a wide swath. Heaven and himself only knew the limits of his resources; but his manner a Monte Cristo might have [ aped to advantage. Hi? play waa a I wonder of the Casino; for the matter of that, his high-handed and extrava gant ways had made the entire Prin cipality of Monaco conscious of his presence in the land. And you fail in the least to understand the nature of the man if you think for a moment that lt irked him to be admired, point ed out, courted, pursued. He was, in deed, never so splendid as when aware that he occupied the public eye. In short, he waa Just an Irishman. ... So, then, it's nothing wonder ful that he should seem a thought fini cal about the set of h's tie. Now as he stood scowling at his Image, and wishing from the bottom of his heart he had never been fool enough to let Danny leave him, and calling fervent blessings down upon the head of the fiend who first design ed modern evening-dress for men-he found himself suddenly with a mind divested of any care whatever and at tentive alone to a sound which came to him faintly, borne upon the heavy wings of the sluggish evening air. It was nothing more nor less than a woman singing softly to herself (hum ming would probably be the more ac curate term), and it was merely the tune that caught his fancy; a bit of an old song he himself had once been wont to sing, upon a time when he had been a happier man. It seem ed strange to hear lt there, stranger still that the woman's voice, Indistinct as it was, should have such a familiar ring in his memory. He frowned in wonder and shook his head. "The age of miracles is past," he muttered; " 'twould never be herself. I've had me chance-and forfeited it. 'Twill not come to me a second time. . . The singing ceased. Of a sudden O'Rourke swere with needless heat, and, plucking away the offending tie, cast it savagely from him. "The div vle fly away with ye!" he said. "Is it bent on driving me mad ye are? I'd give me fortune to have Danny back! . . Me fortune-faith!" He laugh ed the word to bitter scorn. " 'Tis meself that never had the least of any thing like that without 'twas feminine -with a 'mir.-' tacked onto the front of it!" And he strode away to the window to cool off. It was like him to forget his exas peration in tho twinkling of an eye; another mood entirely swayed him by the time he found himself gazing out into the vague, velvety dusk that mo mentarily was closing down upon the fairy-like panorama of terraced gar dens and sullen, silken sea. His thoughts had winged back to that dear woman of whom that fragment of melody had put him in mind; and he was sighing and heavy of heart with longing for the sight of her and the touch of her hand. Even as he watched, stark night fell, black as a pocket beneath a porten tous pall of cloud. . . . Far out upon the swelling bosom of the Med iterranean a cluster of dim lights be trayed a stealthy coasting steamer, O'Rourke Caught his Breath, Stunned. making westward. Nearer, In the har bor, a fleet of pleasure craft, riding at anchor on the still, dark tide, was revealed in many faint, wraith-like shapes of gray, all studded with yel low st?rs. Ashore, endless festoons of colored lamps draped the gloom of the terraces; the facade of the Casino stood out lurid against the darkness; the hotels shone with reflected bril liance, the palace of the Prince de Monaco loomed high upon the penin sula, its elevations picked out with lines of soft fire. The O'Rourke shook his head, con demning lt all. " 'Tis beautiful," he said; "faith, yes! 'tis all of that. But I'm thinking 'tis too beautiful to be good for one-like some women I've known in me time. 'Tis not good for Terence-that's sure; 'tis the O'Rourke that's going stale and soft with all this easy living. ... Me that has more than many another to live for and hope for and strive for! . . . And I'm lingering here in the v??:y lap of luxury stuffing meself with rare food, befuddling meself with rarer wines-me that has fought a day and a night and a half a day atop of that on nothing and a glass of muddy water!-risking me money as if there was no end to it, throwing lt away in scandalous tips like any drunken sailor! And all for the scant satisfaction of behaving like a fool of an Irishman. . . 'Tis sickening-dis gusting; naught less. . . . I'm thinking this night ends it, though; come the morning I'll be pulling up stakes and striking out for a healthier, simpler place, where there's some thing afoot a man can take an inter est in without losing his self-respect . . . I'll do Just that, I will!" This he meant, firmly, and was glad o:? lt, with a heart Immeasurably light ened by the strength of his good res olution. Ho began to hum the old tune that tue unicnown woman s vo?< had set buzzing in his brain, ac broke off to snap his fingers deflan ly at the Casino. "That for ye!" 1 flouted it-"sitting there with yoi painted smile and your cold eyes, Iii the brazen huzzy ye are-Goddess < Chance, Indeed!-thinking ye ha\ but to bide your time for all men 1 come and render up their souls to y< Here's once ye lose, madam ; after th! night I'm done with ye; not a sou < mine will ever again cross your ti bles. I'll have ye to understand tb O'Rourke's a reformed character froi the morning on!" He laughed softly, In high feath? with his conceit; and, thinking chee frilly of the days of movement an change that were to follow, the son in his heart shaped itself in won! upon his lips. .Tm Paddy Whack From Bally hack, Not long* ago turned soldier-O At grand attack, Or storm or aack, Nona than I will prora bolder-O !" Hit voice was hy way of being tenor of tolerable quality and volumi but untrained-nothing wonderful. ] was Just the way he trolled out th rollicking stanza that rendered it li fectious, irresistible. For as h paused the voice of the woman thc had reminded him of the song cappe the verse neatly. "An' whin wo get the route Wld a shout, How they pout! Wld a ready right-about Goes the bould soldier-boy!" O'Rourke caught his breath, stai tied, stunned. "It can't be-" h whispered. For if at first her voice subdued In distance, had stirred hi memory with a touch as vague an thrilling as the caress of a woman' hand in darkness, now that he hear the full strength of that soprano, bel clear and spirited, he was sure h knew the singer. He told himself tha there could be no two women in th world with voices just like that; no another than her he knew could hav rendered the words with BO true i spirit, so rare a brogue-tinged a that had been with the faintest quaintest exotic inflection imagln able. But she had stopped with th? verse half sung. His pulses quicken lng, O'Rourke leaned forth from thi window and carried it on: "O. 'tis thin the ladles fair In despair Tear their hair! But-' 'Tis divvlo a blt I care!' Cries the bould soldier-boy"' There fell a pause. He listenei with his heart in his mouth, but hearc nothing. And it seemed impossible tc surmise whence, from which one of al the rooms with windows opening upoc that side of the hotel, had come th? voice of the woman. She might ai well have been above.as below him or on either side: he could not guess, But he was determined. Now there was beneath his window a balcony with a floor of wood and a rail of iron-flligree-a long balcony, extending from one corner of the ho tel to the other. At intervals it waa splashed with light from the windows of chambers still occupied by guests belated or busy, like himself, with the task of dressing for the evening. The window to his left was alight; that on his right, dark. With half his body on the balcony, his legs dangling with in the room, O'Rourke watched the opening on his left with jealous, breathless expectancy. Not a sound came therefrom. lie hesitated. "If that weren't her room, I'd hear somebody moving a^out," he reasoned. " 'Tis frightened sfce is-not suspect in 'tis me. . . . But how do I know 'tis herself? . . . Faith! could mo ears deceive me?" With that he took heart of hope and broke manfully into the chorus, sing ing directly to the lighted window, singing the first lino with ardor and fervor, with confidence and with hope, singing persuasively, pleadingly, anx iously, insistently. "For the worrld ls all befo-oro us-" he sang and then paused. He heard no echo. And again he essayed, with that in his tone to melt a heart of ice: "For the worrld is all befo-ore us-" And now he triumphed and was lifted out of himself with sheer de light; for from the adjoining room came the next line: "And landladies ado-ore us-" Unable to contain himself, he chimed in, and in duet they sang lt out to the rousing finale: "They ne'er rayfuse to sco-ore na. But chalk us up wld Joy We taste her tap, we tear her cap 'O, that's tho chap For me,' cries she .Whlroo! Isn't he the darli nt, the bould soldier, boy!' " As the last note rang out and died, the next window, was darkened; the woman had switched off the lights. He heard a faint rustle of silken ruf fles. " 'Tis herself," he declared In an agony of anticipation-"herself and none other! And I'm thinking she'll be coming tc the window now-" He was right. Abruptly he discov ered her by the reflected glow from the illumination behind him. He waa conscious of the pallid oval of her face, of a sleek white sheen of arms and shoulders, of a dark mass of hair, but more than all else of the glamour of eyes that shone into his softly, like limpid pools of darkness touched by dim starlight Inflamed, he leaned toward her. "Whist, darling!" he stammered. "Whist! 'Tis myself-'tis Terence-" But she was gone. A low, stifled litugu wai. tui uia tuibwei-tuai, ouu the silken whisper of her skirts an she scurried from the window. He flush ed crimson, waited an instant, then flung discretion to the winds, and found himself scrambling out upon the balcony. Heaven only knows to what lengths the man would have gone had not the slam of a door brought him up standing; she had left her room! So she thought to escape him so easily! He swore between his teeth with excitement and tumbled back whence he had come. Regardless of the fact that he was still in his shirt sleeves he rushed madly for the door. On the way a shooting-jacket on the door, perhaps in revenge for neglect and ill-treatment, maliciously wound lt "The Dlvvlel" He Said BenT'h His Breath. self around his feet and all but threw him headlong; only a frantic clutch at the footrail of the bed saved him. Kicking the thing savagely off he flung himself upon the door and threw it open. His jaw dropped. The lift shaft was directly opposite. Before it, in more or less patient wait ing, stood a very young and beautiful woman in a gown whose extreme can dor was surpassed only by the perfec tion of its design and appointment both blatant of the Rue de la Paix; a type as common to the cognoscenti of Monte Carlo as the Swiss hotel por ters. But O'Rourke did not know her from Eve. "The divvle!" said he beneath his breath. Ke was mistaken; but the young woman, at first startled by his uncer emonious appearance, on instantan eous second thought decided to per mit him to discover that twin imps, at least, resided in her eyes. And when his disappointment prevented him from recognizing them, her dawn ing smile was swiftly erased and her ascending eyebrows spoke eloquently enough of her haughty x displeasure. Synchronously "the lift hesitated at that lifnding and the gate clanged wide;, the young woman wound her skirt about her and showed him a back which at any other time would have evoked his unstinted admiration. Then the gate shot to with a rattle and bang, and the lift dropped out of Eight, leaving the man with mouth agape and eyes as wide. A beaming but. elderly femme de chambre on duty in the corridor, re marking O'Rourke's pause of stupefied chagrin, hoped and believed he need ed her services. She bore down upon him accordingly. "M'sieu' is desirous of-?" He came out of his trance. "Noth ing," he told her with acid brevity. "But, yes," he reconsidered with haste. . "That lady who but this mo ment took the lift-her name?" "Her name, m'sieu'? Ma'm'scile Vol taire." "Impossible!" he told himself aloud, utterly unable to forge any connecting link between the lady in the lift and her whose voice had bewitched him. "But assuredly, m'sieu'. Do I not know-I who have waited upon her hand and foot these three days and to whom she has not given as much as -that." The woman ticked a finger nail against her strong white teeth. "Ma'm'selle Victorine Vol taire," she asserted stubbornly. O'Rourke fumbled In his pocket and found a golden ten-franc piece, surren dering lt to the woman as heedlessly as though it had been as many cen times. "I'll be leaving me room In five minutes, now. And do ye, for the love of Heaven, me dear, try to set me things the least trifle to rights. Will ye now, like the best little girl in the world?" The best little girl in the world, who was forty-five if a day, promised miracles-with a bob of a courtesy. But so disgruntled was O'Rourke that he shut his door in her face. "Tis meself that's the fool," he said savagely enough, "to think for a moment that ever again I'll set me eyes on her pretty face-God bless lt, wherever she may bel ... For why should I deserve to-4, the pen niless adventurer?" again he had won; this time, however, he did not turn, but, frowning in , speculation, stared back at the two. Stared? Indeed and he did just that If it was impertinent, sure and were they not staring at him? And who should gainsay an O'Rourke the right to stare at anybody, be he king or commoner? Furthermore, who might these men be, and what their interest in himself? The one was tall and slender, sat urnine; an elegant, owing as much to the art of his tailor and upholsterer as to his own Indisputable, native dis tinction; a Frenchman-at least of a type unquestionably Gallic. His face was very pale, his fine, pointed mus tache very precise, jaw square, fore ueuu. iiigu, c/co ue?p tum uai& utr neath brows heavy, level and black, manner marked by a repose almost threatening in its Impassibility. His companion was shorter of stat ure, a younger man by at least ten years, rather stout and very nervous, with a fresh red face marred by hall? marks of dissipation; British, every Inch of him. "That, rm thinking," mused O'Rourke, "will be the Honorable Bertie Glynn. Faith, he looks the part, at least; 'tis just that kind-In bred, underbred, without brains or real stamina-that would run through a half-million sterling inside a year." But the other? "Monsieur," the little Austrian stam mered excitedly in his ear, "for you the red had doubled a fourth time." "Thank ye," replied O'Rourke with out moving. "Twill turn np seven, this run." The system-gambler subsided, petri fied. ! But the other? O'Rourke continued to probe his memory. Something in the man's personality was curiously reminiscent. . . . Of a sudden he remembered. The Frenchman had been pointed out to him, years ago, in Paris, as a principal in a Boulevard scandal which had terminated in a duel-a real duel, in which he had been victorious. He was accustomed to anticipate such an outcome of his affair of honor, however; that was why he had been named to O'Rourke; Des Trebes (that was the name; the Viscomte des Trebes) was a duelist of international disrepute. "Monsieur," the agitated voice flut tered in his ear, "you have won yet again--for the sixth time!" "Lei: it stand for the seventh, mon ami." Why should Des Trebes be watch ing him so openly, so pointedly? As he watched he became aware that these two, the Frenchman and the Englishman, were not alone; detached though their attitude was, they wer* - evidently of a party of ladles and gen tlemen whose gay, chattering group formed their background. "Monsieur, the seventh turn!" "Yes, yes." "Rein ne va plus," croaked the croupier. One of the ladies turned to speak +o the Honorable Mr. Glynn. Smiling, he nodded, and offered her an arm. She lingered, addressing Des Trebes. The latter bowed, lifted his shoulders and laughed lightly, plainly excusing himself. A general movement took place in the party; it began to disin tegrate, men and women pairing off, all moving at leisure toward the lobby. Des Trebes alone remained. O'Rourke could see that the personnel of the gathering was largely British. Ha recognized Lady Pliniimmon, whose yacht (he had hoard casually) had ar. rived in the harbor that morining. Evi dently this was her party. Another woman's figure caught his attention;; her back was turned, but she had an air, a graceful set of the shoulders, an individual pride and spirit In the poise of her head, that O'Rourke could have sworn he knew. He was conscious that he flushed suddenly, that his heart was pounding. He made as If to rise and follow, but was prevented, al most forced back by a hand which the Austrian in his feverish interest had unconsciously placed on the Irish? man's shoulder. "Monsieur, monsieur!" he gasped, his eyes, protruding, fixed upon the wheel. Beads of sweat glistened on his fcrehet.L He trembled as though his own fortunes hung on the change. Impressed, O'Rourke could not for bear to linger, to cast a reluctant glance at the table. The size of his pile of gold and notes on the red sas a somewhat startling sight to him. His breath stopped in his throat. The ivory sphere was rattling over the compartments to its predestined place. What if he were to wiri? O'Rourke began to cal culate mentally how much he had at stake, how much he might win if his careless prediction that red would turn up the seventh time should come true -lost his bearings in a maze of intri cate computation and was on the point of abandoning the problem when black was called. "Great God!" panted the Austrian, withdrawing his hand. O'Rourke rose. "The fortunes of war, me friend," said he with a laugh so unforced that lt sounded unnatu ral. He strode away hastily, search ing the throng in the lobby for her with whom his mind was occupied to the exclusion of all else. The system-gambler followed him with a stare of incredulous amaze ment. "What a man!" said he to himself, if half aloud. A second later he added: "What admirable act ing!" But he was mistaken. There was nothing assumed in O'Rourke's air of apathy. He was actually quite indif ferent and already preoccupied with his new Interest-the pursuit of the woman whose unexpected appearance in Monte Carlo seemed likely to upset all his calculations. The sails of the barque of his fortunes had all his (TO BE CONTINUED.) Auditor's Appointments. Either Auditor J. R. Timmerman or his representative will be at the following places on dates named for the purpose of taking tax returns for 1912: Clark's Hill, Friday Jan. 19. Modoc, Saturday, Jan- 20. Parksviller Monday Jan. 22. Plum Branch, Tuesday Jan. 23. Morgan's Store, Wednesday Jan. 24 Liberty Hill, Thursday Jan. 25. Cleora, Friday Jan. 20. Pleasant Lane, Saturday Jan. 27.