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II' sci.vKUJ. THE J3¡\ !{ O}:" C \L 1 "O RN BY PRENTIGE MULFOR (Continued from our last i i, C Once Jet me doubt beset you as to the ideiil it-y of any person long unseen, or seen suddenly under unexpected circumstances, tmdgencrally that doubt remains until disjwlled by, qertain recognition and identification. So did mine then as to the iden- tity of the person before 'me. That gal means bizness," I heard one man whisper t o another. Put her in a tight placo, and she <„ shoot." I noticed that Broener was regarding her a* at- tentively as I. He heard the remark mentioned above and smiled, saying Rough diamonds. One as a chai-ioter reader in the house, and one—a brilliant oa the stagl." .1 looked for her n,ame in the cast on the roughly printed programme.' It read Mi-is H. Brown." The stage was not more than twenty feet in I width. Once she stood so near the box I could have reached forth and touched her. Height, .-on nrtir, bearing-all resembled those of Blanche Bef- i ton. But as to the face,1 that was 80 made up as to leave me in doubt. Once her eyes ranged across the box where I iBt They were Blanche Sefton's eyes, but there was no recognition in their expression. Physical!^ they looked at me—: otherwise they seemed no more to see me than would those of a wax figures The play was over. The curtain fell. The audience struggled in a congested state for exit from the one narrow front" entrance. Broener turned in the opposite direction toward a door lead- ing to the stage, saying "I have an old friend in the company and am going behind the scenes. Good night." He had gone. I would go to the stage door in the rear, and in some way solve my doubts. But I was impeded by the crowd. A wretched fracas, between two armed inebriates, had develojxxi ,directly in front of the opera house," and the lingering mass, nothing loth to see blood shed, -cluttered up the passageway and sidewalk. Freeing myself from them at last I sought the stage door. A high board fence ran from the middle of the rear of the theatre, which in reality was but the wing of another house. I got on the wrong side of the fence, ran back and was obliged to pass out again in front of the theatre.. At last I stood by the door I sought. Two ladies and their escort passed out. Shecertainly wasnotoneof them. The third and last closely veiled, finally came, and accompanying her was Broener Of course, my friend, you would have stayed in camp that night, and found out somehow" whether the girl was Blanche Sefton or not. I didn't.' Had I not seen the lady with Broener I might have so done. But his presence put such a complexion on the matter, that of the two situa- tions I preferred to be in doubt as to Blanche's identity to finding her thus with Broener, whom of course I pictured as the" dangerous rival," as cer- tainly he was in almost any case. Besides there were imperative interests at Scrub mountain to be looked after immediately. Broener expected me to get the quartz out of the caches down to the cabin as soon as possible. He had given me directions how to find them, and despite his repulsion of everything from me of gratitude, 1 felt under too much obligation to him to neglect anything bearing on his interests. But the stars on the now long sixteen-milo ride homeward had lost their sublimity for me. My brain was in a ferment of conjecture. Was it Blanche Sefton ? and if so, why was Broener with her? He had gone behind the scenes to see an old friend." Blanche was a mysterious q-irl. mlO had passed much of her time away from home and in Now York, having frequent access thereunto hy her father's sloop. She had a way of coming and croing and locating herself about where she pleased with that matter-of-course, authoritative air which half stifled gossip and enabled her to do what other girls dared not and could not. Pe";>ln s.-iid, Oh, It's Blanche's way." Certainly it was, and whom might she have met and known, unknown to all Eastporb, in these ways ? Half-past three o'clock and the morning had dawned as I drew rein on the hill and kol.ocl down on Bull Bar, half a mile below me. The river, shrunk by the summer drought, ran a mere thread with faint murmur over rock and riffle. Log cabin and tent lay there silent in the cool shadow of early dawn. One mountain top, full thirty miles away, had caught the sun's heralding ray for the day. But down there, rocker and long torn, pick and pan, crowbar and shovel were flung where last the weary workers left them, and the five hundred stal- wart men, soon to renew their battle with hill, bank and stream, were still in the unconsciousness of slumber—alive, breathing, it is true, but dead to the world their bodies were in—dead to all hope or fear or any of the varied emotions which would so soon be in full play when the smoke commenced circling from those rude chimneys. TWQ or three moving figures were seen on the river bank—watchers of the night- against any sudden rise of the stream liable through the breaking of dams above and letting down the vast tody of backwater," a fluid avalanche which would sweep before it like chaff man's frail con- structions. I roused Mr. Rankin and returned him his horse, which he put in the stable with the remark that "yesterday was probably his benevolent day, which would account for my return alive. But the next man dies," he added. Broener returned late in the day.. What a .ditferent man was he to me from yesterday. De- spite the uncertainty regarding Blanche, I sym- pathized now with the Moors ruling passibn. Jealous? Yes, and jealous of Broener. All of him that had previously attracted me were now as so many weapons turned against me-brilliant '7 weapons, too, and used by a skilled hand. He noticed the change in me—I cannot say in my manner. I had rather state it that he .!it a change—something between us-coming through those fine interior senses which feel, and sense ;thoughts, as the outer ones do material things. "You seem out of sorts," he said. ° I laid it to a headache-that convenient beast of burden, which bears so many lies Young man," said he that evening, were you ever in luve "I suppose so," I replied. They say its part of the programme along with whooping cough and the measles." Well," he rejoined, I believe I am, so far as I am capable of being. At all events, I've found a woman who I think can hold me." May I ask who she is ? Oh, yes. It is the girl you saw last night play ing the wife to lago. silently we pulled our cigars simultaneously for n, few seconds. A cigar is a great relief to a 4 throbbing heart." 1 was never conscious of much action of such character on the part of that organ, and use the phrase as covering a good deal of I ground applicable to these peculiar situations. I said Will you think I'm inquisitive if I inquire if you have known her long ?' "Not at alL I made her acquaintance a few years ago in a New York boarding-house kept by her aunt, whom she was visiting. I met her, strangely enough, on my recent trip to San Fran- cisco. She had just come out by the Isthmus with the company you saw. I recognized her on the stage in San Francisco." Is Brown her real name ? "No." I dared not ask the name. Broener resumed after a pause: That girl puzzles me. I can't make her out. Probably if I could I should not be so much at- tracted to her. I find that mine is a nature alway* demanding to fathom—see through—women, and ceasing to worship them when seen through." I felt then a gleam of comfort. If it was Blanche Sefton, I more than hoped that Broener had no shallow depth to fathom. Yet I still feared him. He waa to me deep, diabolically deep, and powerful, Perhaps you've met your match at last," I ven- tured to say. "Well, 1 hope I have. I need-a match. Ex- cuse me," he added I detest puns and punsters. This was an accident. She's a strong character- self-poised, self-reliant, impassioned on the outside with boiling depths below, which no one has ever yet brought to the surface—at least, I judge so. She's miles beyond the people she's traveiiing with. They see and know of her only as much as she chooses to show-a tenth, perhaps only a twentieth --only what they're able to see and appreciate, or what she allows them to see. Good judgment, that. No use in showing any more cards than you want to use-in any game." Do you call her's a game, too?" I asked. As 1 look on life and people—yes. Yet possi- bly with her, thus far, an unconscious one as to motive. What some call nobility of character, is so well expressed with her that I am content to admire it without too deeply analyzing its" You fear, then, you might find the base metal underneath the gilding ? "My boy, I don't care to put myself on that train of thought. If I pursue an illusion, I want it ever to remain one." I forbore from asking if he knew her real name. Broencr's indefinable manner said to me, plain as words, Hands off "I shall go to Marysville next week," he said after a pause. The company play there on the 20th. Well," I thought to myself, as I crept into my blankets, Marysville, love and mystery on one side. Pratt, hatred and more mystery for Bull 8 £ sr on the other. I seem to be a fulcrum for events to teeter on." CHAPTIER XIV. DEFENCE. During the next few days we were busy getting quartz down from the "Bank." Broener called iaily to see Pratt, who continued in the same con- iition of imbecility and physically seemed neither better nor worse. Broener seemed also to have made a favourable impression on Hillycar. I noticed them lingering about the door holding those lengthy eve-of-parting conversationshhvays be- tokening that two people have found some topic of common interest and a consequent bond of sym- pathy between them. Only, in this case, I knew or rather felt that the bond was manufactured by Broener for the occasion and concluded it was for the purpose of winning the dog-like allegiance of Hillyear from Pratt and transferring it to himself, thereby making more secure whatever of Pratt's secrets or inferences concerning the Bank Hill- year might possess. Meantime a steady estrangement was growing between myself and Broener. It came of my thought, suspense, uncertaintylmd jealousy regard- ing Blanche Sefton—or rather the presumed Blanche Sefton. It was gradual in growth, like the coolness of the early autumn certain to termin- ate in the iciness of winter, a winter which must ever come between two people when one or both fear loss at the hands of the other. Of this, the cause lay with me. I was a brooder of the worst I type. I would live over and over in mind all that imagination, stirred up to redoubled action by jealousy, created for me regarding the matter. I began to dislike Broener for his superiority in many things over myself—a superiority I was obliged to acknowledge. Dwelling on this made me realize more and more his inherent gift of command— command first of himself, next of his fellows—com- mand not ostentatiously asserted with pomp and bluster, but command based on tact, the art of saying the right word and doing the right thing at the right time and place. Broener seemed to know where lay the door to every person's good will; more he knew how to open it. This reflec- tion seemed to germinate a more disagreeable idea, that despite all Broener had done for me, I was but his creature. He was lulling and influencing me as he did others. I (and this last thought smote me hard) stood to him as Hillyear had to Pratt when Pratt was himself. So the cloud, the cloud I alone made out of my thought, came between 118 and grew darker and darker, and more and more chilly. Yet our ex- ternal intercourse v. as much the same as ever—at least we attempted to make it so, though the very attempts served but to reveal the change more clearly. I resolved at last to have the secret out of him. If he would not speak Blanche Sefton's name I would. So, one day, as we were coming down from the Bank laden each with forty pounds of rich quartz, I said in as indifferent a tone as I could assume That girl who played looks to me like one I knew at home named Blanche Sefton." Your friend has reason to be proud of the re- semblance," replied Broener, in a careless way. Then he added, in a lower tone We mus'n't talk loud here. Bill Sefter's crowd are working but a hundred feet below us, and Sefter is an artistic and accomplished busybody, with one ear always open for other people's business." No sooner were the words out of my mouth than I saw that I had now laid myself fully open to Broener. That he had my secret, if secret there was, without any exchange inreturn. Henowknew bhe cause of my changed manner. In nautical language, I had given him all the marks and bear- ings of the channel and the course he should steer. Then I hated and admired him at the same time for the readiness with which, I saw, he had parried my question. That readiness, after a few moments' reflection, only made me more miserable. Because, I thoaght, he must know her name, and if it were not Blanche, what occasion would there be for his concealing it ? So, then, it was Blanche. But Blanche may have given him a false name. There was hope. But what if she has? Is she not Blanche still ? I was getting in that state where my mind refused to work in proper fashion. If I kept on in this way, I should soon argue that a man had but to change his name to change his identity, and that when Charlotte Brown called herself Julia Smith she became Julia Smith. This alarmed me a little. Then the ridiculousness of my condition came over me, and I laughed aloud. What are you laughing at ? said Broener. At a fool 1 saw yesterday, when I looked in the glass, who took a strolling actress for a girl he knew in the states," I said, in a mood made up of petulance and-vexatiott. Broener turned half round and gave me a look, apparently half surprise, half anger, I had broken out in a new spot" for him, and in the remark he had possibly recognised an attempt of mine in his own fashion to throw him oil' his guard. It was not. The words were born of the mood I was in, and had flown out of my lips as of their own voli- tion. Suddenly I recollected that the term strol- ling actress I had used was not one indicative of th<f highest respect for the lady in question, and that under the circumstances it could not have fallen agreeably on Broener's ears. I apologised for having used such expression. He received my apology in silence. I saw by this he meant to punish me, and of course my feel- inn's against him was not at all lessened. Meantime the other cloud on Bull Bar was darkening for me. Pratt became worse. The physician talked of brain fever and looked grave. He added beside that some secret was on Pratt's mind. He inferred there "must have been a quar- rel and much ill-will betwixt Pratt and some one previous to the—ahem—accident." Pratt raved continually about the "young un," who thought he "owned the whole mountain." Jle was ever being "dogged about the chapparal by him," and so on. Mr. William Sefter drank in with his gossipy, greedy ears Pratt's utterances and the doctor's opinions. He visited Pratt's cabin on his way to work in the morning, dropped in at noon and again at night. He made himself an assistant nurse to Pratt, brought him choice dishes and broths of his own making-and he could make them well. He was really useful. Besides, he carried.JYom Pratt's house messes of gossip, which he distributed as a labour of love all over Bull Bar. Mr. Seflcr s forte as a suspicion breeder lay in inferences. He had no direct charge against any one. But he said it was a "queer piece of business." Pratt, poor man had been trying to get along and earn an honest living. He as good as supported Hillyear, who hadn't much gumption anyway. Yov.rig Holder," he added, found Pratt with those hurts on his head. Pratt couldn't bear the sight of Holder. Always set him to runnin' on about

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