mfe IMce til Bcroglfce Story of M VfcoDrank ofjt a | A /Romance^ IbAf (Xyrqg 1 Rmi Author of'-Ttv1 1 verier i m fty Ppua/ji, lllugt^ra'tfona ' 6y i ypr^ Copyrt^H-C 3^l? ? CHAPTER XXI. The Odds Against Him. The noise of the opening of the door and the inrush of cold air that followed awoke Enid Maitland to instant action. She rose to her feet and faced the entrance through which she expected New bold to reappear?for of course the newcomer must be he? and for the life of her she could not help that radiating flash of joy, the momentary anticipation of which fairly transfigured her being; although if she had stopped to reflect she would have remembered that not in the whole course of their acquaintance had Newbold ever entered her room at any time without knocking and receiving permission. Some of that joy yet lingered in her lovely face when she tardily recognized the newcomer in the half light. Armstrong, scarcely waiting to close the door, sprang forward joyfully with his hands outstretched. "Enid!" he cried. Naturally he thought the look of expectant happiness he had surprised upon her face was for him and he accounted for its sudden disappearance by the shock of his unexpected, unannounced, abrupt, entrance. TLe warm color had flushed her face, but as she stared at him her aspect rapidly changed. She grew paler. 11 ?*l-? * V? o A eVtnnA in Vinr XUtJ llttppj 115111 lUOl u?u omvuw *** -v* eyes faded away and as he approached, she shrank back. almost In terI loved ycu when I left you six weeks ago, but now?" In eager Impetuosity he drew nearer to her. Another moment and he would have taken her In his arms, but she would have none of him. "Stop," 6he said with a cold and inflexible sternness tbat gave pauBe even to his buoyant joyful assurance. "Why, what's the matter?" "The matter? Everything, but?" "No evasions, please," continued the man still cheerfully but with a growing misgiving. His suspicions, in abeyance for the moment because of his Joy at seeing her alive and well, arose with renewed force. "I left you practically pledged to me," he resumed. "Not so fast," answered Enid Maltland, determined to combat the lightest attempt to establish a binding claim upon her. "Isn't it true?" asked Armstrong. "Here, wait," he said before she could answer, "I am half frozen, I have been searching for you since early morning in the storm." He unbuttoned and unbelted his huge fur coat as he spoke and threw it carelessly on the floor by his Winchester leaning against the wall. "Now," he resumed, "I can talk better." "Yru must have something to eat then.' said the girl. She was glad of the interruption since she was playing for time. She did not quite know how the interview would end' he had come upon her so unexpectedly and she had never formulated what she would say to him. that which she felt she must say. She must have timo to think, to collect herself, which he in his part was quite willing to give her, for he was not much betteV prepared for the interview than she. He really was hungry and tired, his early journey had been foolhardy and in the highest degree dangerous. The violence of his admiration for her added to the excitement of her presence, and the probable nearness of Xewbold as to whoso whereabouts lie wondered wero not conducive to rapid recuperation. It would be comfort to him also to have food and time. "Sit down," she said. "I shall be back in a moment." The fire of the morning was still burning in the stove in the kitchen; to heat a can of soup, to make him some buttered toast and hot coffee, were the tasks of a few moments; she brought them back to him. set them on the table before him and bade him fall to. "By jove," exclaimed the man after a little time as he began to eat hastily but with great relish what she had St H Ccnquerea j ;? of, Cororfl- cro ^ w bwwsc^Bmlv v * n/'ijearijr And >^SJ a< )f yourself, Enid,"?ho laughed. "Why, y ! the memory of that kiss I stole from y j you makes me mad." He pushed the ri things before him and rose to his feet w once more. "Come, give me another," ii he said, "It isn't in the power of wo- o man to stand against a love like tl mine." 1< "Isn't it?" tl "Xo, indeed." n "Louise Xewbold did," she answered very quietly but with the swiftness F and the dexterity of a sword thrust c by a master hand, a mighty arm. o Armstrong stared at her in open p mouthed astonishment. fi "What -do you know about Louise { , Rosser or Xewbold?" he asked at t( last. ii "All that I want to know." c "And did that damned hound tell k you?" fi "If you mean Mr. Newbold, he nev- h er mentioned your name, he does not g I ^cnwyOJ^ZiflL" V man calmly, "he has gone t^'th.i settlements to tell them I a'iA safe and s] to seek help to get me out of the II mountains." "Fear!" exclaimed Armstrong, d proudly, "I fear nothing on earth. For lc years, ever since I heard his name in fact, I have longed to meet him. I ti want to know who told you about that I woman?Kirkby ?" "He never mentioned your name in r< connection with her." a: "But you must have heard it somewhere," cried the man thoroughly be- al wlldered. "The birds of the air didn't n ;eu 11 10 you, uiu ineyr si "She told me herself," answered d, Enid Maltland. ci "She told you? Why, she's been dead In her grave five years, shot to ai death by that murderous dog of a hus- ai i band of hers." st "A word with you, Mr. Armstrong," d: said the woman with great spirit sc "You can't talk that way about Mr. Newbold; he saved my life twice d< ! over, from a bear and then in the rc | cloudburst which caught me in the a canon." I' "That evens up a little," said Arm- sc i strong. "Perhaps for your sake I will 1 I sparo him." I "You!" laughed the woman con- i b< temptuously. "Spare him? Iieadvised, J sc look to yourself, if he over finds out | ei what I know, I don't believe any power j je on earth could save you." "Oh." said Armstrong carelessly | i enougn, aiinongn ny was consumea j with hate and jealousy and raging: j against her clearly evident disdain. I y ! "I can take caie of myself, I guess. ' . Anyway I only want to talk about j I you, not about him or her. Your fath1 el" IK "Is ho well?" sj "Well enough, but heart-broken, , j crushed. I happened to be in his house ; in Philadelphia when tho telegram j j camo from your uncle that you were aj | 1051 ana prooaoiy ueau. i naa just i ; asked him for your hand," he added, jn I smiling grimly at the recollection. , 1|( "You had no right to do that.'V I "I know that." "It was not, it is not, his to give." j "Still when I won you I thought it ( tj. 1 would bo pleasant all around if he ; jj, j knew and approved." gl J "And did he?" y( i "Not then, ho literally drove me out i of tlie house, but afterwards ho said ai If I could find you I could have you; | , and, by Heaven, I have found you and : I will have you Whether you like it or i m inot-" th "Never," cried the woman decisive- jn 11T. k, 1 The situation had got on Arm rong's nerves, and he must perfor ,ow himself in his true colors. H ily resources were his strength, n mind but of body. He made anol most damaging mistake at tt ncture. "We are alone here, and I am mi r, remember," he said meaning ,'ome, let's make up. Give me a ki r my pains and?" "I have been alone here for a mon ith another man," answered En aitland who was strangely unafra . spite of this threat. "A gentlems 5 has never so much as offered iuch my hand without my perm on; the contrast is quite to your d Ivantage." "Are you jealous of Louise Rosser iked Armstrong suddenly seeing tli 9 was losing ground and cast! )out desperately to account for id to recover what was escaping hi Aliy, that was nothing, a mere b nd girl affair," he ran on with a s; ous good humor as if it were all ifle. "The woman was, I hate xy it, just crazy in love with me, b really never cared anything es] ally for her; it was just a harmle irt of flirtation anyway. She aft ard married this man Newbold a lat's all there was ahout it." The truth would not serve him a i his desperation and desire he sti i everything on this astounding 1 he woman he loved looked at h ith her face as rigid as a mask. "You won't hold that against n ill you?" pleaded the man. "I t< du that I'd been a man among m< es, among women, too, here in tl >ugh country, and that I was orthy of you; there are lots of thin 1 my past that I ought to be asham f and I am, and the more I see y le more ashamed I grow, but as I >ving any one else, all that I've e\ lought or felt or experienced befc ow is just nothing." And this indeed was true, and ev hid Maitland with all her prejud: juld realize and understand it. C f the same mouth, was said of o roceeded blessing and cursing, a *om these same lips came truth a ilsehood; but the power of the tri > influence this woman was as no lg to the power of falsehood. ? ould never 1 uve loved Tim, she n new; a better man had won her actions, a nobler being claimed 1 eart; but if he had told the truth arding his relationship to Newbol ife and then had completed it w '?j)as ??-" -! M^W^T^^^H^^respected him. "You have not told me the trutl le answered directly; "you have < berately been false." "Can't you see," protested the m rawing nearer to her, "how much ive you?" "Oh. that; yes I suppose that ue; as far as you can love any o will admit that you do love me." "So far as I can love any one?" ?peated after her. "Give me a chan ad I'll show you." "But you haven't told the tru aout Mrs. Newbold. You have calu iated the dead, you have sought lelter yourself by throwing the bi ?n of a guilty passion upon the wea vessel; it isn't manlike. It isn'tArmstrong was a bold fighter, qui id prompt in his decisions. He ma lother effort to set himself right. 1 aked his all on another throw of t ce, which he began to feel we imehow loaded against him. "You are right," he admitted, wc 'ring anxiously how much the worn; ally knew. "It wasn't true, it w coward's act, I am ashamed of m so mad with love for you that arcely know what I am doing, b will make a clean breast of it no loved Louise Rosser after a fashi< ?fore ever Newbold came on tl ene. We were pledged to each ot ; a foolish quarrel arose, she w alous of other girls? "And had she no right to be?" "Oh, I suppose so. We broke if ( tyway and then she married Xe >ld, out of pique I suppose, or wh ui will. I thought 1 was heart-hro i at the time, it did hit me pret ird; it was five or six years ago; as a youngster then, I am a mt >w. The woman has been dead lot ncc; tliero was some cock-and-bt ory about her falling off a cliff at r husband being compelled to sho >r. I didn't believe it at the tim id naturally I have been waiting t even with him. I have been hr g him for five years, but he hi en good to you and we will let b ims b" 'lvgones. What do I ca r Louise Rosser. or for him. or f< her. now! 1 am sori lat I said what I did, but you w ivo to charge it to my blinding pi on for you. I can truthfully say th tu are one woman that I have ev aved with all my heart. I will i lything, he anything, to win you." It was very brilliantly done; he hi >t told a single untruth; ho had a itted much, but he had withlie e essentials after all. lie w^s pla g against desperate odds, he had i lowledge of how much she knew, ce where she had learned anything. Ev[lg ery one about the mining camp where ot she. had lived had known of his love for Louise Rosser, but he had not sup,j3 j posed there was a single human soul who had been privy to its later developments, and he could not figure out ly. any way by which Enid Maitland could as" have learned by any possibility any more of the story than he had told her. He had calculated swiftly and jd with the utmost nicety, just how much he should confess. He was a keen m witted clever man and he was fighting for what he held most dear, but his jg. eagerness and zeal, as they have oftjg_ en done, overrode his judgment, and j he made another mistake at this junc/ ture. His evil genius was at his el' bow, lat ng "You must remember," he continued, "that you have been alone here in ' these mountains with a man for over a month; the world? i e- "What, what do you mean?" exa! claimed the girl, who indeed knew to ver^ we" what he meant, but who iut would not admit the possibility. ?e- "It's not every man," he added. ;ss blindly rushing to his doom, "that er. would care for you or want you?aftnd er that." He received a sudden and terrible nd enlightenment. ik- "You coward," she cried, with upie. raised hand, whether in protest or to im strike him neither ever knew, for at that moment the door opened the secae, ond time that morning to admit an- I )ld other man. ?n. lis CHAPTER XXII. n't ? igs The Last Resort of Kings and Men. ed The sudden entrant upon a quarrel ou between others Is invariably at a disfor advantage. Usually he Is unaware rer of the cause of difference and general)re ly he has no idea of the stage of development of the affair that has been en reached. Newbold suffered from this lce lack of knowledge and to these dis>ut advantages were added others. For instance, he had not the faintest idea nd as to who or what was the stranger. nd The room was not very light in the ith day time. Armstrong happened to be th- standing with his back to it at some Ih? distance from the window by the side ow of which Enid stood. Six years nataf. urally and inevitably makes some differ ferenee in a man's appearance, and it re. is not to be wondered that at first d's Newbold did not recognize the man beith 'ore him as the original of the lace in it- for the present he saw nothing but a stranger visibly perturbed on one side an and the' woman he loved apparently i I fiercely resentful, stormily Indignant, confronting the other with an upjs raised hand. ne The man, whoever he was, had at' fronted her, had aroused her lndignahe tion, perhaps had insulted her, that ce was plain. He went swiftly to her side, he interposed himself between !th ber and the man. m- "Enid," he asked, and his easy use to of the name was a revelation and an jr- illumination to Armstrong, "who is ik- this man, what has he done?" - It was Armstrong who replied. If ck Newbold were in the dark, not so he; de although they had never spoken, he le had seen Newbold. He recognized he him instantly, indeed, recognized or re not, the newcomer could be no othot "You Coward!" She Cried. ie* t to ! than he. There was doubtless no othit er man in the mountains, lie had ex us j peeled to find him when ho approach* y- j ed the hut and was ready for him. re I To tho lire of his ancient hatred and nr Jealousy was added a new fuel that ry : increased its heat and flame. This ill ! man had come between Armstrong and is-, the woman he loved before and had , at [ got away unscathed; evidently ho had j er ! come between him and this new wo- | do | man lie loved. Well, he should be J made to suffer for it this time and by j !?.d! Armstrong's own hands. The ind slant Nowbold had entered the room j Id i Armstrong had thirsted to leap upon ; iy-. him, and ho meant to do it. One or ao the other of them, lie swore in his or heart, should never leave that room alive," But Newbold should have hi3 chanceArmstrong was as brave, as fearless, as intrepid, as any man on earth There was much that was admirable In his character; he would not taki any man at a disadvantage in an cu counter such as he proposed. He would not hesitate to rob a man of his wife if he could, and he would not shrink from any deceit necessary to gain his purpose with a woman, for good or evil, but he had his own ideas of honor, he would not shoot an enemy in the back for instance. Singular perversion, this, to which some minds are liable! To take from a man his wife by subtle and underhand methods, to rob him of that which makes life dear and sweet? there was nothing dishonorable in that! But to take his life, a thing of Infinitely less moment, by the same process?that was not to be thought of. In Armstrong's code It was right, It was imperative, to confront a man with the truth and take the consequences; but to confront a woman with a lie J t 1 1 J ..1 ana mne uer uuuy anu suui, u su ue sua might be gained, was equally admirable. And there are other souls than. Armstrong's in which this moral inconsistency and obliquity about men. and women has lodgment! Armstrong confronted Newbold therefore, lustful of battles; he yearned to leap upon him, his fingers itched to grasp him, then trembled slightly as he rubbed them nervously against his thumbs; his face protruded a little, his. eyes narrowed. "My name is Armstrong," he said,, determined to precipitate the issue without further delay and flinging the words at the other in a tone of hectoring defiance which, however strange to say, did not seem to effect.Newbold in any perceptible degree. The name was an illumination to him, though not at all in the way th? speaker had fancied; the recollection of it was the one fact concerning her that rankled ih the solitary's mind. He had often wanted to ask Enid Maitland what she had meant by that chance allusipn to Armstrong which she had made in the beginning of their *. acquaintance, but he had refrained. \ At first he had no right to question i her; there could be no natural end to their affections; and latterly when their hearts had been disclosed to each other inWhe wild, tempestuous, passionate scenes of the last two or threa# (Continued on page 6.) v SEABOARD AIR IDE RAILWAY" Southbound No. 81 Arrive in Cheraw 3.12 a. m_ No. 57 Arrive in uneraw j*.zz a. m. No. 43 Arrive in Cheraw 9.45 p. m.. Northbound No. 84 Arrive in Cheraw ]2.30 a. mNo. 66 Arrive in Cheraw 8.22 a. m. No. 58 Arrive in Cheraw 9.48 p. m.. No. 58 Northbound makes connection at Kollock with the Bennettsvilel & Cheraw R. R. train. No. 66 makes connection at Kollock with Bennettsville & Cheraw R. R. train for Bennettsville and all points on the B. & C. system beyond Bennettsville. No. 57 makes connection at McBee with the C. M. & C. R. R. for Jefferson, S. C., also with the S. C. & W. R. R. for Hartsvile, Darlingt6n and Florence. ATLANTIC COAST LINE RAILWAY Southbound No. 61 Leave Cheraw 6.30 a. m. No. 63 Leave Cheraw 5.30 p. m. Northbound No. 62 Leavc Cheraw 11.57 a. m. No. 60 Arrive in Cheraw 10.10 p. m. No. 62 makes connection at Wadesboro with train for Winston-Salem. No. 61 mokes connection at Florence with trains for Charleston. Columbia, and Wilmington, and at Darlington with train for Sumter and Columbia. No. 63 makes connection at Florence with trains for Columbia, Charleston and Wilmington. CHESTERFIELD & LANCASTER RY. West IhmiimI Xo. 7 (local) Due to Leave 7.00 a. m. No. 3.7 Due to Leave 4.30 p. m. Eastbouinl Xo. S (local) Due to Arrive 4.30 p. ra. Xo. 36 Due to Arrive 3.43 p. m. Xo. 36, if on time, makes connection with the Atlantic Coast Line, No. 63 for Darlington, Florence, Colum bia, Charleston and Wilmington. Xo. 7 subject to annulment. ' J 4 'J