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1 w u S?BEN $ Q Mn. A X>1 C H APTER I. ^ ^ " ' The First Wayfarer and the Second Wayfarer Meet and Part on the Highway. A solitary figure trudged along the narrow road that wound its serpentinous Way through the dismal, forbidilont-he nf tho fflrpsf fl mfln Who. though weary and footsore, lagged not in his swift, resolute advance. Night was coming on, and with it the no uncertain prospects of a stormHe came to the "pike" and there was a signpost. A huge, crudely painted hand pointed to the left, and on what was intended to be the sleeve of a very stiff and unflinching arm these words were printed in scaly white: "Hart's Tavern. Food for Man and Beast. Also Gasoline. Established 1798. 1 Mile." On the opposite side of the "pike," j in the angle formed by a junction with ! the narrow mountain road, stood an ! humbler signpost, lettered so indis-. tinctly that it deserved the eompas- j sion of all observers because of its humility. Swerving in his hurried pas- J sage, the tall stranger drew near this ! 7 ' shrinking friend to the uncertain traveler, and was suddenly aware of another presence in the roadway. A woman appeared, as if from nowhere, almost at his side. He drew back to let her pass. She stopped be- j fore the little signpost, and together j they made out the faint directions. j To the right and up the mountain 1 road Frogg's Corner lay four miles and 1 a half away; Pitcairn was six miles back oYer the road which the man had traveled. Two miles and a half down the turnpike was Spanish Falls, a rail' ?- -A-AI J J ?M? .Ua.A * way 8uuqd, buu iuur luiico auvvc uic crossroads where the man and women stood peering through the darkness at, v the laconic signpost reposed the vll- J lage of St Elizabeth. Hart's Tavern was on the road to St. Elizabeth, and the man, with barely a glance at his fellow traveler, started briskly off In that direction. He knew that these wild mountain storms moved swiftly; his chance of reaching the tavern ahead of the del-1 uge was exceedingly slim. His long, powerful legs had carried him twenty or thirty paces before he came to a sudden halt What of this lone woman who traversed the highway? His first glimpse of her had been extremely casual? indeed, he had Daid no attention to her at all, so eager was he to read the directions and be on his way. She was standing quite still in front, of the signpost, peering up the road toward Frogg's Corner?confronted by a steep climb that led into black and sinister timberlands above the narrow strip of pasture bordering the pike. [ The fierce wind pinned her skirts to her slender body as she leaned against the gale, gripping her hat tightly! with one hand and stcaining under the weight of the has in the other. The ends of a veil whipped furiously about her head, and, even in the gathering darkness, he could see a strand or two j of hair keeping them company. i Retracing his steps, he called out to her above the gale: "Can I be of any assistance to you?" , She turned quickly. He saw that1 the veil was drawn tightly over her face. "No, thank you," she replied. -Her; voice, despite a certain nervous note, j was soft and clear and gentle--the | voice and speech of a well-bred per-; son who was young and resolute. "Pardon me, but have you much far-1 ther to go? The storm will soon be upon us, and?surely you will not consider me presumptuous?I don't like the idea of your being caught out in?" , "What is to be done about it?" she1 Inquired, resignedly. "I must go on.! I can't wait here, you know, to be washed back to the place I started j from." He smiled. She had wit as well as determination. "If I can be of the least assistance j to you pray don't hesitate to command me. I am a sort of tramp, you might j say, and I travel as welL by night as \ I do by day?so don't feel that you are j putting me to any inconvenience. Are j you by any chance bound for Hart's Tavern? If so, I will be glad.to lag! behind and carry your bag." ' i "You are very good, but I am not; bound for Hart's Tavern, wherever j that may be.. Thank you, Just the same. You appear to be an uncom-j monly genteel tramp, and it isn't be-! cause I am afraid you might make off with my belongings." She added the last by way of apology. He smiled?and then frowned as he j ?^ ? ? IaaV of fViA hi o /*lr ITW HU Kucaaj luvn u% uiv deads now rolling ominously op over tite mountain ridge. "By Jove, we're going to catch it nod and hard," be exclaimed. "Better ilk* my advice. These storms are teroLfcfe I know, for Fve encountered tjft ft <?>i ?f them in fee past week. marlYMVT DAD?) :UKUE miac SCUTCHEON \or of "CRAUSTARK," "THE -LOW OF HER HAND," "THE vICE OF CRAUSTARK," ETC ? ^ ~^~Copyrighlb^DoJd, McaJand Company. Int. J They fairly tear one to pieces. Yov: are a stranger in these parts?" "Yes. The railway station is a few miles below here. I have walked all the way. xnere was no one 10 iueei me. You are a stranger also, so It is useless to inquired you know whether this road leads to Green Fancy." "Green Fancy? Sounds attractive. I'm sorry I can't enlighten you." He c He Drew a Small Electric Torch From His Pocket and Directed Its Slender Ray Upon the Sign Post. drew a small electric torch from his pocket and directed its slender ray upon the signpost. "It is on the road to Frogg's Corner," she explained nervously. "A niile and a half, so I am told. It isn't on the signpost. It is a house, not a village. Thank you for your kindness. And I am not at all frightened," she added, raising her voice slightly. "But you are," he cried. "You're half nnt ft# vniir wits Yflll D\.<U CU nun vub vi j vm? _ can't fool me. I'd be scared myself at the thought of venturing into those woods up yonder." "Well, then, I am frightened," she confessed plaintively. "Almost out of my boots." "That settles it," he said flafly. "You shall not undertake it" "Oh, but I must. I am expected. It Is import?" "If you are expected why didn't someone meet you at the station? Seems to me?" "Hark! Do you hoar?doesn't that sound like an automobile?all!" The hoarse honk of an automobile horn rose above the howling wind, and an instant later two faint lights came rushing toward them around a bend in the mountain road. "Better late than never," she cried, her voice vibrant once more. He grasped her arm and jerked her out of the path of the oncoming machine, whose driver was sending it along at a mad rate, regardless of ruts and stones and curves. The car careened as it swung into the pike, skidded alarmingly, and then the brakes were jammed down. Attended by a vast grinding of gears and wheels, the rattling old car came to a stop fifty feet or more toeyoyd them. "I'd sooner walk than take my chances in an antediluvian rattletrap like that," said the tall wayfarer, bending quite close to her ear. "It will fall to pieces before you?" But she was running down the rond toward the car, calling out sharply tc thr> Hrivpr. Hp stooDed over and took up the traveling bag she had dropped in her haste and excitement. It was heavy, amazingly heavy. "I shouldn't like to carry that a milf and a half," he said t^ himself. The voice of the bslated driver came to his ears on the swift wind. It was high-pitched and unmistakably apologetic. He could not hear what she was saying to him, but there wasn't much (foubt as to the nature of hei remarks. She was roundly upbraiding him. Urged to action by thoughts of hit own plight he hurried to her side anc said: "Excuse me, please. You droppec sometnmg. snau 1 pui u uy m n?u< or in the tonneaa?" The whimsical note in his volci brought a quick, responsive laugh fron her lips. "Thank you so much. I am fright fully careless with my valuables Would you mind putting it in behind ' Thanks!" Her tone altered complete ly as she ordered the man to tun the car around?"And be quick about i tt," she added. I The first drops of rain pelted down from the now thoroughly black dome | above them, striking in the road with i the sharpness of pebbles. "Lucky it's a limousine," said the i tall traveler. "Better hop in. We'll be getting it hard in a second or two." "You must let me take you on to the Tavern in the car," she said. "Turn about is fair play. I cannot allow you to?" "Never mind about me" he broke in cheerily. He had been wondering if she would make the offer, and he felt better now that she had done so. "I'm accustomed to roughing it. I. don't mind a soaking. I've bad hundred of 'era." "Just the same you shall not have one tonight," she announced firmly. "Get in behind. I shall sit with the driver." If anyone had told him that this rattling, dilapidated automobile?ten years old, at the very least, he would have sworn?was capable of covering the mile in less than two minutes he would have laughed in his face. Almost before he realized that they were on the way up the straight, dark road the lights in the windows of Hart's Tavern came into view. Once more the bounding, swaying car came to a stop unuer urunea, huu iic was iciuaIng after the strain of the most hairraising ride he had ever experienced. Not a word had been spoken during the trip. The front windows were lowered. The driver?an old, hatchetfaced man?had uttered a- single word just before throwing in the clutch at the crossroads In response to the young woman's crisp command to drive to Hart's Tavern. That word was uttered under his breath and It Is not necessary to repeat It here. The wayfarer lost no time in climbing out of the car. As he leaped to the ground and raised his green hat he took a second look at the automobile?a look of mingled wonder and respect. It was an old-fashioned, high-powered ?-* ^ fi? *-t car, capaoie, aespxce us umiquuy, ui astonishing speed in any sort of going. "For heaven's sake," he began, shouting to her above the roar of the wind and rain, "don't let him drive like that over those?" "You're getting wet," she cried out, a thrill in her voice. "Good night?; and thank you!" "Look out!" rasped the unpleasant j driver, and in went the clutch. The man in the road jumped hastily to one side as the car shot backward with a jerk, curved sharply, stopped for the fraction of a second, and then bounded forward again, headed for the crossroads. v "Thanks!" shouted the late passenger after the receding tail light, and dashed up the steps to the porch that ran the full length of Hart's Tavern. A huge old-fashioned lantern hung above the portal, creaking and strain ing in the wind, dragging at Its stout supports and threatening every instant to break loose and go frolicking away with the storm. He lifted the latch and, being a tall man, involuntarily stooped- as he passed through the door, a needless precaution, for gaunt, gigantic mountaineers had entered there before him and without bending their arrogant heads. '' ( .' ? r>~!. . CHAPTER II. The First Wayfarer Lays His Pack Aside and Falls in With Friends The little hall in which he found himself was the "office" through which all men must pass who come as guests to Hart's Tavern. A steep, angular staircase took up one end of the room. Set in beneath its upper turn was the counter over which tne business 01 me "house was transacted, and behind this a man was engaged in the peaceful occupation of smoking a corncob pipe. An open door to the right of the stairway gave entrance to a room from which came the sound of a deep, sonorous voice employed in what turned out to be a conversational solo. To the left another door led to what was evidently the dining room. The glance that the stranger sent in that direction revealed two or three tables covered with white cloths. "Can you pat me up for the night?" he inquired, advancing to the counter. "You look like a feller who'd want a room with bath," drawled the man behind the counter, surveying the applicant from head to foot. "Which we ain't got," he added. 'Til be satisfied to have a room with a bed," said the other. "Sign here," was the laconic response. 1 "Can I have supper?" "Food for mat] and beast," said the 1 other patiently. He slapped his palm 1 upon, a cracked call bell and then looked at the fresh name on the page. "Thomas K. Barnes, New York," he read aloud. He eyed the newcomer ' once more. "My name is Jones?Put! nam Jones. I run this place. My fa' ther an' grandfather run It before me. 1 ? *- ?DonnAO Wo ' Uiaa to meet juu, mi, uu>ui.o. ..v ' used to have a hostler here named Barnes. What's your idear fer footin' > It this time o' the year?" "I do something like this every ! spring. A month or six weeks of it ' puts me in fine shape for a vacation later on," supplied Mr. Barnes whim' sically. ' Mr. Jones allowed a grin to stea.' over his seamed face. He reinserted i the corncob pipe and took a couple of 1 pulls at it. "I never been to New York, but It ' must be a heavenly place for a vaca' j tlon, If a feller c'n Judge by what some 1 nt mv i>r-#>Hent boarders hav? to say * about it It's a sort of play actor's 1 paradise, ain't It?" - "It is paradise to every actor who happens to be on the road, Mr. Jones.' said Barnes, slipping his big pncl. from his shoulders and letting it slid# to the-floors. ' "Hear that feller In the taproon ralkin'? Well, he is one of the lead ing actors in New York?in the world for that matter. He's been talkin about Broadway for nearly a weeP now, steauy." "May I inquire what he is doing ui here in the wilds?" "At present he ain't doing anything except talk. Last week he was treddin the boards, as he puts it himself. Bust ed. Up the flue. Showed last Satur day i ight in Hornville, eighteen mih north of here, and immegiately aftei the performance him and his whole troupe started to walk back to New York, a "good four hundred mile. Thej started out the back way of the opery house and nobody missed 'em till next mornin' except the sheriff, and he didn't miss 'em till they'd got over the county line into our bailiwick. Four of 'em are still stoppin' here just because I ain't got the heart to 'em out ner the spare money to i 'em tickets to New York. Here coines one of 'em now. Mr.. Dilling rora, win you snow mis genueiuun 10 room eleven and carry his baggage up fer him? And maybe he'll want a pitcher of warm water to wash and shave In." He turned to the new guest and smiled apologetically. "We're a little short o' help just now, Mr. Barnes, and Mr. Dllllngford has kindly consented to?" "My word!" gasped Mr. Dllllngford, staring at the register. "Someone from little old New York? My word, sir, you? Won't you have a?er? little something to drink with me before you?" "He wants something to eat," InterI rupted Mr. Jones sharply. "Tell Mr. | Bacon to step up ta his room and | take the order." j "All right, old chap?nothing easier," { j said Mr. Dllllngford genially. "Just ! climb up the elevator, Mr. Barnes. We ; j do this to get up an appetite. When j did you leave New York?" Taking up a lighted kerosene lamp and the heavy pack, Mr. Clarence Dll- j llngford led the way up the stairs, j He was a chubby individual of Indefl-1 nite age. At a glance you would have L said he was under twenty-one; a sec-; ond look would have convinced you , that hie wa*s nearer forty-one. Depositing Barnes' pack on a chair I in the little bedroom at the end of | the hall upstairs he favored the guest , [with a perfectly unabashed grin. Tm not ^ doing this to oblige old ( man Jones, you know. I won't attempt to deceive you. I'm working out a dally board bill. Ohuck three times a day and a bed to sleep in?that's what I'm doing It for, so don't get It into your head that I applied for the job. Let me look at you. I want to get a good square peep at a man who has : the means to go somewhere and yet is iboob enough to come to this gosh[ awful place of his o.wn free will and j accord. Darn It, you look Intelligent, j I don't get you at all. What's the matj ter? Are you a fugitive from justice?" Barnes laughed aloud. There was 1 no withstanding the fellow's sprightly | I impudence. j "I happen to enjoy walking," said j he. "If I enjoyed It as much as you do J I'd be limping into Harlem by this j ime," said Mr. Dllllngford sadly. "But | you see I'm an actor. I'm too proud ! to walk?" ! The cracked bell on the office desk interrupted him, somewhat perempI torily. Mr. Dillingford's face assumed I an expression of profound dignity. He lowered his voice as he gave vent to the following: "That man Jones is the meanest human being God ever let? Yes, sir. coming, sir j" He started for the open door with surprising alacrity. Barnes surveyed rthe little bedchnmber. It was just what he had expected it would be. The walls were covered I with a garish paper selected by one j who had an eye but not a taste for i color?bright pink flowers that looked more or less like cnunus 01 a muueu i watermelon spilt promiscuously over a background of pearl gray. The bedstead, bureau and washstand were offensively modern. Everything was as clean as a pin, however, and the bed looked comfortable. He stepped to the small, many-paned window and looked ; out into the night. The storm was at j its height. In all his life he never had heard such a clatter of rain, nor a wind that shrieked so appallingly. His thoughts went quite naturally to the woman who was out there In the thick of It. He wondered how she was faring and lamented that she was not in his place now and he in hers. What was she doing up in this God-1 forsaken country? What was the name I of the place she was bound for? Green : Fancy! What an odd name for a house! And what sort of house? His reflections were interrupted by the return of Mr. Dllllngford, who carried a huge pewter pitcher from which steam arose in volume. At his heels strode a tall, cadaverous person in a checked suit (To Be Continued Tuesday' URGED TO CONVERT BONDS. More than $'8,000,000 will be paid as inter *>n Liberty Bonds held by +-Vn'o o/Hintrv nn Mav 15. U1C pcvpic .11 Wi? vvwitif.^ ? and that day will be known as "America's pay day" throughout the United States. The War Loan Organization of the Fifth Federal Reserve District urges) everybody to exchange their Ma Liberty Bond coupons for War Sa^ ings Stamps in order to keep thei money growing and at the same tim help the government. If the entir $78j000,000 were converted int May War Savings Stamps the sui would grow to $93,000,000 by Jani ary 1924. Every stamp obtaine by exchanging Liberty Bond coupon in 1919 will be worth $5 -on Jam ary 1, 1924, and should the holde find that he cannot afford to keep h; stamps as long as that, he can cas any number of them he desires a his postoffice by giving ten days nc tice. A copy of Mr. Timmons letter ha been sent to Dr. Henry Nelson Snj der, chairman of the Educations Committee, of the Educational an Rinwni do not ruin tires if properly re Let us examine and advis casings. Tube repairing, 25c. up; i - MARTIN a At Citj Pure Ice Manufactured Undei soft drinks Sof cigarettes tobaccos cm candies v^uj MIU113 VV? I CIGARS tli*.mo licit yo Abbeville Ca Ladies' ; OXFi Iuur sneives unci portunity to select season. Beyond a d extensive and elabo wear for hot weathe the ladies and men < prices are within rei Our Oxfords for: Beacon make and n< those who apprecia looks and service at We also have a 1 that will appeal to particular. Beacon Oxfords i Ladies' Oxfords,.... White Canvas Oxfo and Children, We have a fit an< ber of the family? D. POL Abbev ?- ' y | Rural Division, and also president of rJ Wofford College at Spartanburg, i .Qrtiifli rorftlfrifl wif^ a ronnoaf f^iof [j- wvuvt* vuiuiiiiu) TVIUIA u A vxjuvuv VUMV e he write or wire to all State Super e intendents of this district who are o members of his committee, and urge n'them to give May 15, "America's i-1 pay day" all possible publicity. The d- State Superintendents can handle 1S; the matter through the school superiJ tendents and teachers in every coun!r! ty and city in the Fifth Federal Re;s| serve district. \ h! '? all work .together to convince Lt' the people of the advantage, both to ' themselves and to the government, I in converting /the Liberty Bond couj pons into War Savings Stamps, won: derful results can be accomplished. r" | . "Keep your dollars growing," is the appeal of the War Loan Organid . zation. JITS 1 ipaired. e you before throwing away your Casings, 50c. up. -/ tnd PENNAL. ' Garage. . Cream? : * Sanitary Conditions : ; t Drinks and | nfections..... | are prepared to itrrt you in t courteous manner and sour patronage. ndy Kitchen JKD3 II you an unusual op- 9 your oxfords for this B ioubt we have the most I rate collection of foot- I ir wear ever offered to I of this section and the 11 ach of everyone. 1| men are of the famous eed no introduction to I te * good wear, good I ; a minimum cost. I ine of ladies oxfords the taste of the most I :or Men, $5.00 to $7.00 9 $4.50 ... ipviwv T rds for Men, Women, $1.00 to $2.50 I i style for every mem and experts to fit you. I iakoff I