Evening Republican, Volume 15, Number 307, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 30 December 1911 — The Pool of Flame [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

The Pool of Flame

LOUIS JOSEPH VANCE

muralMM by EUawarik Tnu|

Q»W«lfbi IWW, by tuHlt Juaepii Vance SYNOPSIS. - CHAPTER I.—The story opens at Monte Carlo with Col. Terence O'Rourke In hie hotel. O'Rourke, a military free lance and something of a gambler, la dressing for appearance th the restaurant below when the sound of a girlish voice singing attracts his attention. Leaning out on the balcony he sees a beautiful girl who suddenly disappears. He rushes to the corridor to see a neatly gowned form enter the elevator and pass from CHAPTER IL—O’Rourke’s mind is tilled with/thoughts of the girl, and when he goes to the gaming table he allows his remarkable winnings to accumulate indifferently. He notices two men watching Him. One Is the Hon. Bertie Glynn, while his companion is Viscount Dea Trebes. a noted duelist. When O’Rourke loaves 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 mission. CHAPTER TO.—At his room O’Rourke, who had agreed to undertake the mission.awaits the viscount. O’Rourke finds a mysterious letter In his apartment. The viscount arrives, hands a sealed package to O’Rourke, who la not to open It unul on the ocean. He says the French government will pay O’Rourke 26.000 francs for his services. A pair of dainty slippers 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 thp owner of the mysterlouk feet. Tt Is his wife, Beatrix, from whom he had run away a year previous. They are reconciled, and opening the letter he had received, he finds that a law firm In Rangoon, India, offsrs him 100.000 pounds Tor an Indian Jewel known as the Pool of Flame and left to him by a dying friend. O’Rourke tells his wife that It Is In the keeping of a friend named Chanibret In Algeria. CHAPTER V.—O'Rourke Is forced to fight a duel with the viscount. The braggart nobleman Is worsted In the combat and acts the poltroon^ CHAPTER Vl.—The loyal wife bids O’Rourke farewell and he promises to soon return with the reward offered for the Pool of Flame. He discovers both Glynn and the vlaoount on board tha ship which takes him to Algeria..; CHAPTER Vll.—Chambret has left Algeria and O’Rourke has to vain a military detachment going across the desert ta reach hi* friend. As he 'finds the latter there la an attack by bandtts and Chambret Is shot. *> CHAPTER VIII.

Preparations for breakfast were toward; an aroma of coffee. and bacon honq in the still, crisp air. The troopers were bustling about as if nothing had happened, laughing and joking, cleaning rifles, feeding the me hara, striking tents, drawing water from the palm-ringed well round which the camp had been made. Out of sight beyond the edge of the sunken oasis a detachment was digging shallow trenches for the dead. In the open Chambret lay dying, a stark grim figure in the growing light. O'Rourke sat by his side, near the head of the improvised litter, elbow in knee, chin in hand, eyes fixed on the face of his friend. Just before sunrise the man on the Utter etlrred. moaned, opened his eyes and turned his head to see O’Rourke. He smiled wanly. “Mon ami,” he said In tones faint yet thick. The Irishman rose. “Don’t talk,” said he. “I’ll be calling the surgeon.** But Chambret stayed him with a gesture. “Has he not told you, dear friend?” die asked. O'Rourke hesitated. “Told me what?” “That my wound was fatal —mortal? . . . Sarely he must have told you. It la so. Presently 1 die . . Content. ... Let him be —this surgeon: I sm beyond his aid. Attend to me. In my last moments, O'Rourke, my friend.” The adventurer vacillated, torn by an agony of compassion. “I must do something for ye,” he Bald miserably. - . . “I must do something. . . . What can I do?” , “Comfort me.” The dying man closed his eyes and lay still for a little. “You are not gone. O’Rourke?” he asked presently. “I’m here, be your side, mon ami." “Tell me ... of madams . . . your wife. She is well?" “She is very well. Chambret.” “You have seen her recently?” “Within ten days.” "You have . . . returned to her?” ; “No—and yes. /TTwas not for lack of love for her that I gave her up—’* “Yes” said Chambret Impatiently. “That I understand/ ... I comprehend utterly your feeling. . . But you owe her happiness, though you sacrifice your own—everything— to give It her. She loves you . . . as she might have loved even me had yoo-not came into her life.” e • • . “You are about to pocket Your scruples that she may have her fiat portion of happiness r*

*Tve premised, Chantereh” ~ r mswi #lait Rut vdi}'-*—Wufit * • ***** JVU Will Til has brought you hither?” ”I—l wished to see ye,” Bat the dying ere oftentimes and strangely endowed with curious insight into matters beyond their ken. Without perceptible hesitation Chambret made this apparent “You have come tor the ruby.” he said with coOTictiom. :: “How did ye know V’ t “It is true, then? . . , I fancied so; I knew that some day you would cOtae to claim it. . . . Bend nearer to me. . . . The Pool of Flame is In the keeping of py good friend, the Governor-General of Algeria. It is all arranged. When I am gone, take my signet ring, tell him your name, and demand the package—a small moroccoleather box, wrapped in plain brown pape/and superscribed with my name and yours. He knows nothing of its value, save that it is great, and will deliver iLto you and only you without question. . . . That is all.” The hand that clasped O'Rourke's was like ice. “Chambretl” “Beatrix. . . ” / The cold fingers relaxed, tJently O’Rourke disengaged his hand and put it to the pitiful, torn bosom of the man who had died with his wife’s name upon his lipg. CHAPTER IX. Shortly before midnight the triweekly train from Constantine to Algiers pulled up over an hour late at the town of El-Guerrah. It took up a single passenger, discharged none, and

presently thundered on westwards, rocking and jarring over a road-bed certainly no better tbau it should have been. Such, at least, was the passenger’s criticism, as, groaning in anticipation of the long night of discomfort ahead of him, he disposed himself and his belongings about the cushions of the first-class compartment which he occupied In solitary grandeur. O’Rourke had no intention of leaving anything undone that might tend to mitigate the terrors of the journey. Five days had elapsed since that morning in the oasis. lit the Interval he had again dared the danger of the desert, returning to Biskra alone by a route more direct than that which had brought him up with the flying column. Discharging the guide with a gratuity larger than his ebbing means warranted, he had proceeded to ElGuerrah by the first dally trails and so now found himself on the direct line of communication with Algiers and the Governor-General. His chiefeet concern now lay with, the future and the Pool of Flame; both bulked large upon the horizon and were at once the architects and the nuclei of a thousand different plans of action. So far, the affair had worked smoothly; he anticipated little trouble. So thinking he drowsed, and in th© course of time lulled by the hammering of a fiat-wheel at the forward end of the coach, fell asleep. He wakened suddenly after a nap of some two hours or so, to a confusion of impressions: that the train had stopped: ! that some on© had iuvailed his compartment; that a cold blast was blowing across his wrists. Bewildered and 1 not half master of his senses, be started up and fell back with a thud, assisted to resume a recumbent position j by a heavy blow upon his chest, delivered by some person for the moment.! unknown. Simultaneously he was' aware of a clicking sound, followed by . the sensation of being unable to move bis feet; and then, the clouds clearing' from his understanding, he realized ■ that the cold upon his wrists was that' of steel. With handcuffs also on his 1 ankles, he lay helpless, unable even to protest because of a clofh wadded tightly Into his mouth and a firm hand i that prevented ejection. Other hands were rifling his pock-i eta, swiftly but after a bungling fashion- The train, having paused briefly at Setlf (he afterwards located the station by conjecture), began tomove again, was presently -In full thundering flight. Abruptly the examination of his person—which was so thorough that it included the opening -of his shirt to assure the thieves that he carried nothing In the shape of a money-belt—-was concluded and the adventurer waa roughly jerked Into a sitting position. At the same time his gag was removed/" - Hq gasped, blinked, coughed, and rolled a resentful eye around the comportment. “Be the powers!” he said huskily; and no mere. At first glance tt became apparent that be had miscalculated the audacity-and reaounqn

of the vicomte and Ur. Glynn. They bad literally caught him napping. The Honorable Bertie, O’Rourke discovered kneeling in the act of turning the adventurer’s traveling gear inside out; at least, he seemed to be trying to do so. Monsieur le Vicomte des Trebes on the contrary was seated at ease, facing O’Rourke, a revolver on the cushion beside him, his interest concentrated not upon his captive, upon his collaborator. O’Rourke remarked an expression on the Frenchman’s face, a curious compound of eagerness, triumph and apprehension. Without noting the Irishman’s ejeoulation, he addressed Glynn: “Find it?" “No —worse luck!’’ grumbled thet Englishman, rising and kicking the hand-bag savagely. “There isn’t so much as a scrap of paper anywhere about him.” The vicomte favored O’Rourke with a vicious glance, muttering something about a thousand devils. The Irishman, quick to grasp the situation and inwardly exulting, acknowledged Des Trebes’ attention with a winning smile. “Good evening,” he said, and nodded amiably. “Oh, shut up!” snapped the Honorable Bertie, unhandsomely. “Where’s that letter?” O’Rourke chuckled. “Ye’re a hard loser, me bright young friend,” he commented. “I though Englishmen always played the game as it laid.” Glynn grunted and flushed, shamefaced, but the FYenchman cut short the retort on his lips by a curt reso- - of Glynn’s own question: “Where’s that letter, monsieur?" O’Rourke glanced at him languidly, yawned, and smiled an exasperating strictly personal smile. Then significantly he clinked the handcuffs until they rang on wrist and ankle. “Answer me!” snarled the vicomte, picking upTtis revolver. “Dlvvle a word," observed O’Rourke, “will ye get from me if ye shoot me dead, monsieur le vicomte. Put down your pistol and be sensible.” Des Trebes’ sace 1 darkened, suffused with the blood of his rage. Yet the man asserted that admirable control of self which he was able to employ when it suited his purposes. Evidently, too, he recognized the cold common-sense of the wanderer’s re-, mark. At all events he put aside the; weapon. “Where’s the letter?" he demanded again, more pacifically. Again O’Rourke yawned with malice prepen Be, yawned deliberately and exhaustively and dispassionately. "Not a word,” he volunteered at length, “until ye loose me hands and feet. Which,” he added, “ye need not hesitate to do, for I’ll not strike back —unless ye crowd me.” The vicomte scowled darkly for a moment, plainly dubious. Then presumably upon the consideration that he could trust O’Rourke's word and that most assuredly he would learn nothing from him until his request was complied with, he growled an order to Glynn to unlock and remove the handcuffs. The Englishman obeyed. Free, O’Rfiurke stretched himself, rubbed his wrists, and observed a collection of his pocket hardware lying upon the seat by him, thrown aside by Glynn in his disgust at not finding what he sough L “Ye’ll hot be wanting 'to deprive me of these few trifles, me gay highwaymen, I’m thinking?” he Inquired placidly of the pair. “If ye’ve no objection I’ll make so free as to take back me own.” “Take what you want,” returned Des Thebes in an ugly tone. “But—1 give you three minutes to tell me where you have put that letter.” “Indeed? Your courtesy overpowers me.” The Irishman took up his watch and calmly made a note of the hour — hard upon three in the morning; then, with easy nonchalance stowed it away with the rest of the miscelllneous collection—the knives, coins and keys, his wallet, tickets and no forth. .“Your time,” the voice es tbo eomte interrupted this occupation, “la up.” Ha fingered his revolver “Where

“Where rust noj moth cannot corrupt nor thieves break .in to steal," O’Rourke misquoted solemnly. “Steady. Don’t call names—or I’ll forget meself. I mean that the letter is in fragments, scattered to the four winds of heaven, destroyed. There ye have your answer. Ye fools, did ye think I would carry It about me?” “By God!” said Glynn tensely. “No —don’t shoot him, Des, Trebes! He’s telling the truth. Make him tell what was In the letter.” “I’m afraid 'tis useless,” O’Rourke mocked them. “I have forgotten the contents. What use to me to remember?" he demanded, inspired. “What made ye think 1 would have it at all? Sure, and the letter was properly Ohambret’s. Why would I not turn It over to him?” “Oh. cut It!” Glynn interrupted impatiently. “We know he’s dead. The t\ews was hellographed in from the column day before yesterday.” x “Quite so. Yet, if ye know so much, if —as I gather—ye Buspect that Chambret turned over this precious jewel to me, why do t ye not demand it as well as the letter? Not that I have either." “Because we jolly well know you haven’t got the ruby,” blurted the Englishman. “Be quiet!" snapped the vicomte. “Quite right,” echoed O’Rourke with assumed indignation. “Be quiet, Bertie. Children should be seen and not heard. Mind your uncle.” And, “Oho!” he commented to himself. “And they knevFl didn’t have the Pool of Flame! Let me think. . . . Ob, faith, 'tis just bluffing they are!” (To be continued

They Had Literally Caught Him Napping.