Evening Republican, Volume 15, Number 301, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 22 December 1911 — The Pool of Flame [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

The Pool of Flame

By LOUIS JOSEPH VANCE

Ifiaatraltaas by QUmrlt Ttaf

BYNOPBI3. CHAPTER I.—The story opens at Monte Carlo with CoL Terence O'Rourke In his hotel. O'Rourke, a military free lance and something of a gambler, Is dressing for appearance in the restaurant below when the sound of a girlish voice singing attracts his attention. Leaning out on tne balcony he sees a beautiful girl who suddenly disappears. He rushes to the corridor to see a neatly gowned f«p enter the elevator and pass from CHAPTER H.—O'Rourke’s mind is filled with thoughts of the girl, and when he goes to the gaming table he allows his remarkable .winnings to accumulate indifferently, vHe notices two men watching him. '"One is the Hon. Bertie Glynn, while his companion is Vldcount Des Trebes, a noted duelist. When O’Rourke,, leaves the table the viscount tells him he represents the French government and that he has been directed to O’Rourke as a man who would undertake a secret missioh. , CHAPTER ITT.—At hie room O’Rourke, who.had agreed to undertake the mission, awaits the viscount. O’Rourke finds a mysterious letter In nis apartment. The viscount arrives, hands a sealed package to O’Rourke, who is not to open it Until g on the ocean. He says the French government will pay O’Rourke 86.000 francs for his services. A pair of dainty slip-., pears are seen protruding from under a doorway curtain and the viscount charges O’Rourke with having a spy secreted there. CHAPTER TV.—When the Irishman goes to his room he finds there the owner of the mysterious feet. It is his wife, Beatrix, from whom he had run away g year previous. They are reconciled, and opening the letter he had received, he finds that a law firm in Rangoon, India, offers him 100.000 pounds for an Indian Jewel known as the Pool of Flame and left to him by a dying friend. O'Rourke tells his wife that ft is in the keeping ■ of a-friend named Chambret in Algeria.

CHAPTER V. ' At fly© In the morning a heavy motor car of the mist advanced type stole in sinister silence out of 'the courtyard of the Hotel d’Orlent, at the came sedate pace and with the same surreptitious air skulked through the town, and finally swung eastwards upon the Route de la Corniche, suddenly discarding all pretense of docility and swooping onward with & windy roar, its powerful motor purring like some gigantic tiger-cat. It carried four; at the wheel a goggled and ennuied operator in shapeless and hideous garments; In the Tonneau Its owner, a middle-aged French manufacturer with pouched eyea, a liver, lank jaws clean-scraped, and* an expression of . high-minded devotion to duty; Captain von Mnem in uniform; and Colonel O'Rourke. At the end of an hour's run, disturbed by one or tWo absurdly grave conferences between the seconds, in appropriate monotones, the mechanician put on the brakes and Blowed down the car, then deftly swung it into a narrow lane, a leafy tunnel through which It' crawled for a minute or two ere debotichlbg into a broad and sunlit meadow, walled in by woodland, conspicuously secluded. To one side and at a little distance a second motor-car stood at rest; Its operator had removed the hood and WSs tinkering with the motor -in a most matter-of-fact manner. In the body pf the machine Monsieur le Vlcomte des Trebes, ostentatiously unaware of the advent of the second party, eat twisting rapier-points to his Ifioneteahee and concentrating his gase on infinity. O’Raurke observed , with malicious delight the nose of the duelist, much inflamed. Advancing from his antagonist’s position three preternaturally serious gentlemen of France in black frock eoats and straight-brimmed silk hats waded ankle deep in dripping grass to meet O'Rourke's representatives. The two parties met, saluted one another with immense reserve, and retired to a suitable distance to confer; something which they did wordily, with enthusiasm and many picturesque gestures. At first strangely amicable, the proceedings soon struck a snag. 4k serious difference of opinion'gross. O'Rourke divined that the conference bad gone into executive session upon the question of weapons. He treated himself to a secret grin, having anticipated this trouble. The choice of weapons being bis, as the challenged, ha had modestly selected revolvers and had brought with him a brace of Webleys, burly pieces of pocket ordnance with short barrels and cylinders chambered to hold half a dozen .4$ cartridges. They were not pretty, for they had seen service In their owner’s hands for a number of years, but tiiey were undeniably built for business. And at sight of them the friends of the vlcomte recoiled In horror. Eventually a compromise was arrived at. Monsieur Juilllard stepped back, saluted, and with Von Einem returned to his principal, bla face a mask of disappointment. As for himself, he told O’Rourke, he was desolated, but the second* 'of-’Monsieur des Trebes bad positively refused to* consent to turning a meeting of honor into a massacre. They proposed to substitute regulation French dueling pistols as sanctioned by the Code.

p O'Rourke blinked and. sniffed at It. "Sure " he contended, “Tin a magnifying glass I need to make It visible to !me undressed eye. What the diwle does It carry—a dried pea? What d'they think we're here for, if not to slay oas another with doe ceremony? Ask them that Am I to salve the I vtcomte's wounded honor by smiting him with a spitbaU? I grant ye, 'tia magnificent, but 'tb not a pistol.’* Grumbling, lie allowed himself to 'be persuaded. Aa he had foreseen and prophesied, so had it come to pass. Yet he had to grumble, partly because he was the for effect. None the less, he consented, and in the highest spirits left the car and plowed through the lush wet grass to the spot selected foi* the encounter, in the shadow of the trees near the eastern border of the meadow. Here, the seconds having tossed for aides, he took a stand at one end of a sixtyfoot stretch and; still indecorously amused, received a loaded pistol from Von Einem. "p Des Trebes confronted him, white with rage, regratting. already (O’Rourke made no doubt) that he had not accepted the Webleys. The Irishman’s open contempt maddened the man.

The seconds retired to a perfectly safe distance, Von Einem holding the watch, one of Des Trebes’ seconds a handkerchief. The chauffeurs threw away their cigarettes and sat up, for the first time roused out of their professional air of blase indifference. “One,”, cried the German clearly. Des Trebes raised his arm and leveled his pistol at O’Rourke’s head. A faint flush colored his face, but his eye was cold and hard behind the sight and the hand that held the weapon was as steady as if supported by an Invisible rest. “Two,” said. Von Einem. O’Rourke measured the distance with his eye and raised his arm from the elbow only, holding the pistol with a loose grip. “Three,” said Von Einem. The handkerchief fell. .The Irishman fired without moving. Des Trebes’ weapon was discharged almost simultaneously, but with a ruined aim; its bullet went nowhere In particular. The Frenchman dropped the weapon and, wincing, examined solicitously a knuckle from which O’Rourke’s shot had struck a tiny particle of skin. His seconds rushed to him with cries, preceded by the surgeon with bandages. O’Rourke gracefully Surrendered his artillery to Juillard, laughed at the vlcomte again, and strolled back to the motor-car. Juillard and Von Einem presently joined him, the former insistently anxious to have O’Rourke descend and clasp the hand of fraternal friendsiilp with the vicomte. But the Irishman refused. f“Faith, no!” he laughed. “Niver! I’m too timorous a man to dare It. Store and hasn’t he huggefl both his Mconds and the surgeon, too, already? i-or me own part I’ve no mind to be kissed. Let’s hurry away before he celebrates further by imprinting a chaste salute upon the cheek of our chauffeur. . . . Besides, I’ve a train to catch.”

CHAPTER VI. Events marched to schedule; what O’Rourke planned came serenely to pass. He experienced a day as replete with emotions'as the night that preceded it and more marked by activity. Nothing hindering, he left the battle-scarred Vlcomte des Trebes upon the field of honor at half-past six; at seven forty-five he settled himself in a coach of the Cote d’Azur Rapides en route for Marseilles—a happy man, for ha was alone. . At a quarter to one in the afternoon of the same day he boarded the little steamer Tabarka of the Mediterranean ferry service; and half an hour later stood by the aftei'-rall of its promenade deck, watching the distances widen between him and all that he held beloved. “In ninety days, dear boy,” she had said. . . . “Ah, Terence, Terence, if you should fail mo . . . !” “I shall not faiL . . . Rangoon in ninety days. Dear heart, I will be there. . . Ap if to feed the hunger of his heart he strained his vision to see the last of the land thaL held her. At length it disappeared, and then for the first time he consciously moved—drew a hand across his eyes, Bighed and turned away. Picking his way through the cosmopolitan throng of passengers, he went below, found his stateroom, and subsided into thb tibrth for a sorelyneeded nap; instead of indulging in which, however, he lay staring wideeyed at his problem. He had much to accomplish, much to guard against. Des Trebes bulked large In the background of perils he must anticipate; O'Rourke was by no means disposed to flatter himself that he had scotched the schemes of the vicomte.

He made his second public appearance on the Tabarka at the bour of sunset; and in the act of making it, turned a corner and ran plump into the arms of a young person in tweeds and a steamer cap—a stoutlsh young Englishman with a vivid complexion and a bulldog pipe, nervousness tempering his native home-brewed insolepce, the blank vacuity of his eyes hopelessly betraying the caliber of his Intellect. A sudden gust of anger swept O'Rourke off his figurative feet. He ■topped short, blocking the gangway aad the young man’e progress. So this was what had been set to spy upon him! “Good evening to ye,” he said coldly. fixing the Honorable Mr. Glynn Kttfc mjl Ittiarragfitlyg eye that served

to deepen his embarrassment and consternation. “I trust I didn’t hurt ye, Mr. Glynn.” “Oh, no—not at all," stammered the Englishman. “Not in the least. No.” He looked right and left ol O’Rourke for a way round him, found himself with no choice bat.to retreat, and lost his presence of mind completely. “I—l say," he continued des- ' perately, “I say, hare yon a match?” “Possibly,” conceded O’Rourke. “But I've yet to meet him. Of this yb may feel sure, however: if I have, *tis neither yourself nor Dee Trebes. Now ran along and figure it out for yourself—what I'm meaning. Goodnight.” He brushed past the man, leaving him astare in sudden pallor, and went his way, more than a little disgusted with himself for his lack of discretion. As matters turned out, however, he had little to reproach himself with; for his outbreak served to keep young Glynn at a respectful distance throughout the remainder of the voyage. They met but once more, and on that occasion the Englishman behaved himself admirably according to the tenets of his caste—met O’Rourke’s challenging gaze without a flicker of recognition, looked him up add down caimly with the deadly ennuied air peculiar to the underdone British youth of family and social position, and wandered calmly away. O'Rourke watched him out of sight, a smile of appreciation curving his lips and tempering the perturbed and dangerous light In his eyes. “There’s stuff in the lad, after all,” he conceded without a grudge, “if he can carry a situation off like that. I’m doubting not at all that something might be whipped out of him, if he weren’t what he’s made himself —a slave to whisky.” For all of which appreciation, however, he soon wearied of Mr. Glynn. During the first day ashore it was not so bad; there was something amusing in being so openly dogged by a well-set-up young Englishman who had quite ceased to disguise his interest. But after that his shadowy surveillance proved somewhat distracting to a man busy with important affairs. And toward evening of the second day O’Rourke lost patience. AH day long in the sun, without respite he had knocked about from pillar to post of Algiers, seeking news of Chambret; and not until the eleventh hour had he secured the information he needed. Then, hurrying back to hi 3 hotel, he made arrangements to have his luggage cared tSr during an absence of indeterminate duration, hastily crammed a few indispensables Into a kit box, and having dispatched that to the railway terminal, sought the restaurant for an early meal. In the act of consuming his soup he became aware that the Honorable Bertie, in a dinner coat and a state of fidgets, had wandered down the outer corridor, passed at the restaurant dqor

and espied his quarry. The fact that O'Rourke was dining with one eye on the clock and in a dust-proof, dustcolored suit of drill, was enough to disturb seriously the poise of the Englishman. ’ Exasperation stirred in O’Rourke. He eyed the young man rather morosely throughout the balance of his meal, a purpose forming in his mind and attaining the stature of a definite plan of action without opposition from the dictates of prudence. And at length swallowing his coffee and feeing his servitor, he rose, crossed the room with a firm tread, and came to a full stop at the Honorable Mr. Glynn’s table.

Momentarily he held his tongue, staring down at the young man while drumming on the marble with the fingers of one hand. Then Glynn, glancing up in a state of somewhat panicstricken inquiry which strove vsflnly to seem insouciant, met the level stare of the adventurer and noticed the tense lines of his Ups. “I —I say,” he floundered, “what’s the matter with you, anyway? Cant you leave me. a—lone?” “I've been thfbking,” said O’Rourke crisply, disregarding the other’s remark entirely, “that it might be of interest to ye to save ye a bit of botheration to know that I’m going up to Biskra by tonight’s train. It leaves in | ten minutes, so 11l have to forego the pleasure of your society on the trip.” Glynn got' a grip on himself and pulled together the elements of his manhood. He managed to infuse blank Insolence into his stare, and said “Owr with that singnlarly maddening fhflectlon of which” the Englishman alone is master; as who should say: "Why the dooce d’you annoy me with your bally plane?” « i - l ‘* I “Don’t believe I know yon, do I?” Sf^rgwled

don’t believe ye do, me lad* “Can’t say I wish to very badly, either.” “I believe that,” O’Rourke chuckled grimly. The meaning in his tone sent tho blood into the young man's face, n fiery fldqd of resentment y “Oh, I’m not afraid of you, y’know,” he said, bristling. “Of course you’re not going to Biskra, or you wouldn’t tell me so. But if you do, I shall make It my business to find Out and follow by the next train—bringing Des Trebes with me.” “Oh, will ye so? Ye mean to wan me he’s in Algeria, too?" “His boat’s due now; I’m expecting him at any moment, if you .wish to know.” O’Rourke’s smiling contempt was angering the young man and rendering him reckless. “You’ll be glad to know you’ve made a dem’ ass of yourself—lf you really are going to Biskra.” ’ “Praise from Sir Hubert —”

“Oh, don’t you think I mind giving you a twelve-hour start;, you won’t gain anything by it. Y’see I know where you’re going, and I know it’s not there. If you’ll take a fool’s advice, you’ll turn back now. You’ll come back empty-handed anyway. I don’t mind telling you that we mean to have that ruby, Des Trebes and I, and we know where it is. You’re only taking needless trouble by interfere tag” Truth was speaking from the bottom of the absinthe tumbler. O’Rourke’s brows went up and he whistled noiselessly, for he realized that at least Glynn believed what he jf&s admitting. ' “So that’s the way of it, eh? I admire your candor, mel>oy; but be careful and not go too far with it. ’Twill likely prove disastrous to ye, I’m fearing. ... . But tlt-for-tat; ye’ve made me a handsome present according to your lights, of what ye most aptly term a fool’s advice, and ’tis meself who’ll not he outdone at that game. For yourself, then, take warning from the experience of one who’s men a bit more of this side of the earth than most men have, and —don’t let Des Trebes know ye’ve talked so freely. He’s a bad-tempered sort and . . . But I’m obliged to ,ye and I bid ye a good evening.” (To be continued 1

So This Was What Had Been Set to Spy Upon Him.