Evening Republican, Volume 15, Number 134, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 7 June 1911 — HAL O' THE HIGHWAY [ARTICLE]

HAL O' THE HIGHWAY

By George Bronson-Howard.

Copyright, The Frank A. Munsey Co. CHAPTER IT. (Continued) “Mr. Eager, you’ve e’en placed me in debt to you—so greatly that I doubt its payment possible. I—l could love you tor that fight—and what you did—and spared me—l could love you for it Eager’s hand went to his mask and tore it off. . “Could you?” he said quickly, i know ” With a. disgusted air he broke off. I am a fool, mistress!” he said. She looked at him. His features were good; honesty and candor were written on his forehead, and the lines of his mouth ware at once tender and humorous. His blue eyes looked earnestly at her, and his fair hair peeped from below his hat. , it was a face a girl milght remember—and remember with something more than is generally given to mental pictures. The fine, clear line of his nose, the strength of his chin and lips, the entire well-bred assurance that sat so lightly upon him and -‘-’"•'"H him for one of high estate, was a combination not soon to be forgotten. “Why did you unmask?” she asked. “To prove that I trusted you, mistress,” he replied. “And to free your mind from the thought that the highwayman had jagged teeth and a broker nose ” He paused for a moment “I would I might see you again!”— this with startling suddenness. Pausing, she thought for a moment. “Why not?” His face lighted up into a radiant smile. “Perchance, mistress, you take those words lightly. Remember who I am—the talk of the countryside—little more than a thief—of course ” She hummed the highwayman’s air: But never a penny from woman or gal— For a gentleman born is Hurricane Hal! As she finished, she smiled brightly upon him. “At least you risk your life—you do not attack the defenseless ”

Again she hummed. Hal Eager was coloring furiously. “1 ask you to believe that I am not responsible for those lines. 1 have never sung the song," he said earnestly. “It is the work of some tavern verse-monger.” “Yet the lines are true enough.” She looked up at him and clasped his hand suddenly. “I can never forget what you have done for me this night. If I could repay it ever so slightly—if you can And me of use—command me!” 'To buy powder and shot for the outlaw!” He smiled grimly; but again his face brightened and he was »’ery serious. “There is a thing—if I might see you again—if I might! Would you believe me when I say that I would risk all for one sight of you again?” His tone was ardent and unmistakably sincere. It was her turn to blush now. “Is it so imi>oßsible then?” she askeded. “As to my permission, that I give! See, there ahead is my coach, she added. “I must go to them. They are worrying for me!” "But to see you'again! Do you mean it. or is it only the bone that one throws to a faithful dog?" There was bitterness in his tone. “I would not have you consider gratitude. Such as I am—a thief, if you will—can you

see me again?” • , __ He stripped off his gauntlet and his bare hand touched hers. A warm glow grew within her. She opened her mouth to aay something, but no words came. Her hand grew warn within his grasp but she made no effort to withdraw it. With a sudden remembrance she recalled the Ball of True Lovers—St. Valentine’s ball—which had totally slipped her mind in the exciting events of the past half hour. She had hoped to And her heart there, but had not believed that she would.

Perhaps, who knows, she stole a glance at his earnest face, the devil-may-care poise of her head, his eyes—and the highwayman was forgotten in the One manly fellow who stood beside her—the man who had fought for her sake and who had so easily put two other men to Aight A good strong fellow this, who cared for neither God, man, nor devil, but who maybe cared for her. Anne’s little head was a mad riot of conAicting emotions. But one rose dominant In the selfishness of the moment she forgot that to do her will this man mast expose himself to dsn : gers which it would hare been desirable for him to avoid. “I go.” she said, “to Annapolis for the ball tomorrow night All will be awaked, and any gentleman properly attired may gala admittance, for it jb the ball of St. Valentine—the ball of True Lovers. Can you see me then?" Ris heavy hand closed upon hen

so tightly that for the moment she was fain to scream out in pleasurable pain, so completely dominated was she. Such was the spell of the 'moment that Hal Eager might have clasped her sweet young body in his arms with never a protest—and perhaps a response. Both man and woman felt the magic moment in its entirety, for to neither one of them had the exact emotion come so strongly before. Hal Eager’s voice was husky when be answered. “At the ball Yes I will be there. And you “ “I will expect you. All of us will be masked but I shall wear a pink dress and a pink rose in my hair.” She spoke with difficulty, for the strain of the moment before had severly taxed her. “And will you give me the pink rose?”, he asked, his eyes meeting hers. But the woman’s desire for the chase had come to her defense. It were foolish to give the game into his hands, he who might be passing an Idle moment with a pretty girl as a fit ending to his bit of knight-erran-try. “You may ask for it when you have come,” she replied, her lashes sweeping her cheek. She released her hand. “I must hasten now,” she said, for she noted the negro outriders running toward her. “You ” “1 shall be at the ball,” he said, and his hand caught hers again and carried the delicate fingers to his lips. Again the thrill coursed through Anne’s veins, hot, consuming. He released her hand. “Tonight I shall ride behind end guard your coach,” said he. “Tomorrow night I shall ask for the rose. Your name ” “Anne,” she said, and fled straightly to the coach. He stood in the road, bareheaded, watching her flight. A sudden exultation filled him. She wa? very, very beautiful, and her eyes were like the reflection of stars in an enchanted lake. And her hair was sweet with the perfume of a lovely woman. He seemed to breathe her presence in the air. ~

He mounted and waited in the shadows. The coach lumbered past him, the negro outriders swinging along at its side. When it had gone a fair distance, Hal put his mare to the mossy foot-path and rode' after it at a safe distance. All night he rode, thinking of Anne’s beauty, and guarding the coach that held her, and when daylight grayed the world with the haze of dawn, he. still thought of the eyes and the ringlets, and the girl whose name was Anne and whose person was the sweetest thing he knew. A little after daylight he turned into an unfrequented road and routed up the landlord of a quiet inn, who knew him well for what he was, and was well paid for keeping the secret. His head touched the pillow as the Arst gleams of morning sunlight came through the window; and when he slept he dreamed of a pink rose. It was well on to twilight again when Hal Eager swept out from the inn and on to the highway, for it was an unsafe thing for the gentleman highwayman to ride by day. His attire was far too well known, and he had no other raiment, thanks to a sudden raid on former headquarters by the sheriffs, which had effused him to leave the place suddenly and without packing his clothes Thankful indeed he had been to get off with his skin. Now, to go to the ball attired as he was was evidently an impossible matter. To ride in to Annapolis in this attire preparatory to purchasing other raiment was quite as far from good sense. Hal whistled merrily and thought of the girl with the wondrous eyes.

“Go to the ball I shall!” hj said, and laughed at the folly of saving it. Who would not risk so little a thing as a life for another smile from those cherry lips, another glance from those eyes, another sight of those curly ringlets, another chance to hear the sweet tones of Mistress Anne? And he fell to wondering how he might compass his ends. Annapolis lay but ten miles from him, and was the matter of less than an hour’s ride. Suddenly he slapped his thigh and chuckled Jovially. “I shall strip some traveler of his festive garb,” he meditated. “That’s a proper highwayman, for I shall strip the poor fellow even of the clothes he wears.” As the twilight deepened, Hal put on his mask; for it was not his intention that folks should know the lineaments of Hurricane Hal. Even the landlord of the inn where he was sojourning knew nothing of Hal’s features, for the highwayman entered always masked, and departed in the same fashion. In' all the time that he had taken toll on the road, there was but one person who had seen his face; and that person was Mistress Anne, jefore whom he had voluntarily reveled himself. All day he had spent in though s of Anne, and In inditing verses to her which had giveh him keen 'pleasure

The fact that he might treat the subject of her tenderly, appealed to him mightily, although he wondered at his temerity that he should do so. “Heigh-ho,” sang Master Hat, again forgeting that he was a highwayman. “I am in love. That am I—l am in love.” And he stretched bis hands outward in a prayerful gesture that he strove to make half-mocking. “St Valentine,” he invoked, “friend of all true lovers, this is your saintship’s day and here is a lover pining for the girl he loves. Aid me, St. Valentine, aid me.” Then he smiled in a half-foolish way, and fished in the pocket of bis coat to bring forth one of the poems which he had indited to the eyes of Mistress Anne, As though in answer to his invocation, there came the sound of horses’ .hoofs on the highway; it seemed that some one was in a great hurry, and was urging his beast to its full speed. Hal’s hand caipe out of his pocket and rested on his horse-pistols. He urged his mare across the road to where a great oak tree upreared itself, and sat with arms folded across his chest, each hand holding one of his weapons. (To be continued.)