Evening Republican, Volume 14, Number 79, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 2 April 1910 — The Quest of Betty Lancey [ARTICLE]

The Quest of Betty Lan cey

By MAGDA F.WEST

Cotyticht, I 90», by W. G. Chapman. Conrricht is Gnat Britain

CHAPTER XXll.—(Continued.) Mrs. Harcourt looked 'him over < from «? a< * t 0 toot ~ * n this broken man, with the hair slightly sifted over with silver, she seemed not to recognize the handsome husband she loved so well. They stood In silence for several' moments, and then she spoke. “Harold,” she asked, quietly, “I’ve a great blank *n my mind since I got well. I remember much, too much, in some ways, and in others I can’t remember at all. Since ve been better this last week I’ve been asking why you are in jail here, more closely than 1 did before, and ve been wondering why you never sent me any messages nor any reply to those I sent you when I was so ill and £o delirious. And they’ve tried to exP ain things to me, and I’ve got my subconsciousness of the things I used to do out in India, all mixed up with what they've told me. Harold, don’t you remember how 1 used to- ask you ts there were two Me’s, and how you used to laugh at me? How I used to say I had seen myself walking through e garden, and wonder if it were my mother’s ghost, my mother and I were so alike, you know? And don’t you know how I used to tell you that I had wakenfed from sleep at your side to see another m 6 bending over you, kissing you? Harold, what did it mean?” Harcourt had grown whiter than the gardenias his wife wore. He put his hands to his forehead as if he would implore her to stop, but apparently thought better of it. Plaintively her sweet, childish voice went on: They couldn’t seem to ms.ke your trouble clear to me, Harold, and yesterday they brought me the newspapers. Ive read the whole story, and ■can t understand It. I can’t see why you should write so muchvlike this Hamley Hackleye, I can’t see why that letter they found that blew from your wallet, should be a letter addressed to you by a ‘Cerlsse.’ I can't get this Cerisse woman straight in my head! Do you know anything about her? Why did she look so much like me? And that girl that came to ihy room that night?" I remembered about it when I read it in the paper. Harold, did you know this woman? This Cerisse Wayne? And if you did, who was she, and what was she to you? You are shy husband still, Harold, and my dead .baby’s father, and all I possess will be yours to clear you from this unfortunate state of affairs, only be frank with me. Harold! Tell me the truth! And Harold, do you know that they say that since I quit taking the medicines you used to tell me never to miss, I've been so much better. My recollection of my childhood is coming back Why, Harold, what is the matter?” Harcourt had fainted. Mrs. Harcourt cried out and the turnkey came in an instant In a jiffy they had Harcourt on his feet again. "Ask hej to go away," he begged. “Ask her to go <tway." But Mrs. Harcourt stood firm. Philip Hartley and the doctor, summoned by •the confusion, entreated hes to leave Harcourt alone, but she turned a deaf ear upon them. I have asked only those questions that a wife has a right to ask her husband," she continued. “It is half a year since I have seen my husband. Let him answer me, or I shall not go.” Harcourt realized the corner in which he was placed. He knew, too, that NarcissS, in her normal health, or even partially so, was a force to be gainsaid. In estimating her powers of persistency he knew well the host with which he had to reckon.. Obstinacy would never do, .that he knew. An appeal to her emotions might. He staked all on one throw. "Narclese,” he begged, “I’m *lck, weak, unnerved, and sight of you, dear, after all this weary separation has been most heart-breaking. It has brought up all the old loneliness and •t But Narclsse was not deceived. The days when the wool had been lightly •htfted over her eyes were sped. “Nonsense.” said she, tersely. “There Is a woman dead and burled out there tn the cemetery so like me that people mistqok her for me. They found letter* in-your handwriting, and addressad to her among her belongings. They found a letter in your handwriting indited to some ‘Cerisse’ in your wallet, •long with a picture which I have seen and which never was my picture, though it is a likeness of me. Those were the papers that blew from, your wallet that night in the hotel, and you lied to me and told they were passports. ..Tell me. I demand It, what was Cerisse Wayne to you?” Rffrcourt braced himself before he answered. Then he shouted hoarsely: “She was my real wllfe! And the woman I loved!” Mrs. Harcourt did not move, though Hartley stood ready to catch her. She fainted. The guards had walked away •nd only Dr. Fothergill and Hartley had heard the brutal answer as Harcourt gave it The doctor spoke first. ■“And Mrs. Harcourt here?" Harcpurt answered sullenly, “I married her. But I never lived with her ■except for that first year. After the baby came I hated her. I learned to love Qerlase —she was a woman!” "But she. and yeur wife," breathed Hartley. “They were like as two peas.*’ "Woof!" expostulated Harcourt “So Is a sunbeam like its picture! So is red paper like flame! Certsse—she was the breath of the wind, the spirit of the flower —the essence of life. Nareisse, there—an ivory idol, nothing more." “But this Wayne woman—where did

you meet her? Was she not Hackley’s wife,” eagerly interposed Hartley. “Or was there a Haekleye, or did you play a dual part as well as live a dual life.” “No, there’s a Hackleye,” said Har-court."-.“I kill Cerisse? Nonsense. If. I d beeh killing it’s the other one I'd killed.” “And since you weren’t killing, but drugging, scored Dr. Fothergill, "you kept her brain and will controlled with your deadly dosings!” “So?” snarled Harcourt. “Fine hypothesis you’ve got there. You’re a mess of bally idiots anyhow, you and your old American police. I didn’t kill Cerisse Wayne, I tell you, and I don’t know a thing about that girl. Why don’t you'let me out of here?” All trace of the English gentleman had fled from Harcourt He was a type of the brute debased. Prison lfe takes the brute out of some men. It had injected it anew into Harcourt “Good-by, Narclsse,” he called, gruffly, “I’m not going to talk any more,” and he turned his back upon the visitors and skulked over to the farther corner of the cell. Aqd talk any more he didn’t Hartley turned In a report of the conversation with Harcourt’s wife to the sergeant, and the sergeant gave it to the papers, and then they took Harcourt and put hlnj In the sweat box, and kept him there for three days. And when he came out they knew as much as when he went In. —■ Mrs. Harcourt went back to the hospital. She quit chatting And laughing with the nurses as she had grown to da# and sat for hours silently by .the window, ostensibly busied with some embroidery, but lip reality thinking, thinking, as if to find some lost pathway that would lead her to the clue she sought Day.after day she sat and embroidered absently in so deep a study that she could with difficulty be roused. Even Hartley was powerless to break through this abstraction ahd he grew despairing. But shrewd old Or. Fothergill, after watching her narrowly for a while, bade them let her alone.She will stumble yet upon the lost Alis, commented the doctor, sagely. CHAPTER XXIII. Three days’ journey in the yacht brought the strange cortege to a little cluster of native Villages. The river was no longer navigable and they stopped to fit the yacht with queer runners and harness it to a string of camels. The party was transferred to camel back, and made slow progress over the desert to navigable water. Tired as they all had been of the yacht, the camel travel had become more intolerable still, and even City Editor Burton welcomed the roll of the water again.

—-Le. Malheureux had changed his mind, and instead of going to Khartoum, at Hackleye’s solicitation, they took to the ocean for Cairo. It was easier traveling on the yacht, and less dangerous than In any other way. Besides Le Malheureux did not wish to leave his electrical toy behind him, because there was no suitable place in which to lodge it. Further, he had declared his intention of returning to America, and had offered to pilot Johnny Johnson and the Morrises back *„o their own country, an offer only too speedily accepted. By now there wa.< no distrust of any of their odd companions In the heart of the threo Americans. Even Hackleye, the tacitly accused murderer of his wife, filed a certain claim upon their sympathies, he was so bowed down by the weight of woe. His children seemed to be outgrowing their temporary dislike -f him, and a truce with them was already well under way. “He’s grieving himself to death over that wife of his,” said Johnny, “it’s a shame what an upset a woman can make, if she s beautiful and -unprincipled.’’ Larry had made Le Malheureux promise him that,once they were well out at sea he would permit the sending of a wireless to the press association stating that Betty had been found. !t nd they they alt were safely returning. •?-. “No use. you know." he explained, “In saving all the news till we get back. No reason why tffiey should suffer from indigestion or the presses from over feeding, you know.” So when the sea was touch a week later, this message went flashing into New York: : “Betty Lancey found. All well. Coming home. Larry Morris and she were married a month ago. Hamley Hackleye with ps. Johnson,” Larry and Johnny had argued it all out between them that since Larry had carried off the bride, the glory was coming Johnny’s way, so it was his name that was signed to the message. Two continents thrilled at these words and one Harold Harcourt in his cell burst Into mars. - “At last,” he repeated to himself. “At last!”

But tala hoped for release did not come at once. He was told be would have to wait till the party had landed In New York. Meanwhile, aboard the enchanted yacht, aa Betty still called it, Hackleye was winning new friends for himseir. In spite of the suspicion that hung over him Betty could not help but like him, and the boys admitted that be .seemed to be a very square fellow. eld Core dosed over fcis breviary continually, the children romped

with Cttjr t Etttor ‘Bavtm, * «rho wu • more ridiculous excuse for • lion than Betty and Larry made up for lost £”*®***v* ove " n ßtklrtg, andJohnnY ahd L« Malheuraux ’held high converse In ;the laboratory and battery room. Be*h!y„caty to .Calro Johnny was a* «dck full of electrical phrases as the X-ray machine of sparks. He gave an electrical clinic every time you went near him. and everybody aboard, from Tyoga, in her neat little electrical kitchen, And Benoni and Meta, sitting astern In sllant communion, sped away from Johnny “knd his newly acquired knowledge. Hackleye was the only lonely, one aboard. He spent most of his time in a steamer chair, gazing at the sky line in the day time and at the stars at night As they neared Cairo he became even more diffident and subdued.

His house at Cairo was a well set up home, furnished in an odd combination of oriental and occidental modes, and stood a little apart from the city. The children were not well, Walter’s hip was bothering him, and it was agreed that it Would be better to rest a week at Calrof instead of Immediately setting out for America and England. Into the house walked -Johnny on# day - At th e door he met Benoni. - Where’s Hackleye?” he asked, in his rooms,” pointed Benoni. Johnny followed him down the halL Benoni,” he urged, “why don’t you loosen up and tell us about this? There s a big injustice being dons somewhere, and It isn’t right Why don t you help us out You’ve been a g man, as big inside as you are out We know that Your fidelity to the Wayne family has shown Itself In a thousand ways. Let us get this all cleared up; if a nest of crime eilsts why can t we get at It and kill If bea“y ™° re Innocent people suffer ° There's Mrs. Desterle, she never did anything to any of these peoShe’s dead,” Interrupted Benoni. “I got gome dispatches this morning.” fll9 ;°“ r woman," said Johnny, ‘what else did you get, Benoni?” * XCept that Harcourt is stiil in jail, that his wife has recovered her health, and some think she is go- “ d force him. They say he ha, Wayner * l0V ? d Cer,Me “Whs*?” B hooted Johnny. “I must go t ® ll . L f*\ ry ’ ° h - for a newspaper,” h« sighed for the ten thousandth time. o up and talk .to Hackleye,” said Benoni. He may be glad to see you.” Benoni,” Johnny said, gravely. “I don t believe- he killed his wife. If it hadn’t been that with my own eyes I saw Hackleye enter that bedroom where Cerisse Wayne was found deal since you say Harcourt has confessed to having loved her, I'd say that Harcourt killed her. Those two garters I found too, one in the Wayne room, and the other in Hackleye’s home, bore the monograms ‘H.’ That’s-Harcourt’, initials, too. you see.” "Go talk to Hackleye, why don’t y ° u repeated Benoni, and Johnny climbed the stairway with his head as fiery within as it was without, from insistent seeking that wound up only In blind alleys. (To oe continhed.)