Evening Republican, Volume 16, Number 86, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 8 April 1912 — Cathleen’s Capture [ARTICLE]

Cathleen’s Capture

By IZOLA FORRESTER

2

“Listen!” whispered Cathleen excitedly. "Can’t you hear him now?" " Deed, and it’s only the crackling of the telephone wires. Miss Cathie. Don't you be worrying so,” soothed Blake, brushing out the long, beau-, tiful waves of chestnut hair. “There Isn’t a soul ou,t a night like this for smiles. You’re tired and a bit nerv-

jous." ! "I’m not a bit nervous, Blake,” Cathleen retorted haughtily. She stared at the reflection of herself in the oval mirror and frowned. It was certainly a white and troubled young person who returned her gaze of inquiry. “Anyway, I don’t think it at all right for papa to send me out here at this time of the year.” “’Tls a foine place for the asthma," Blake said gently. , “But I haven’t asthma. It’s papa who has asthma,. I think he should have thought of me a little in the matter. It’s cold and bleak and miserable down here on the shore this time of the year, and there’s nobody Jiving here—oh, Blake, there it is again. Don’t you—can’t you hear it?" i It was unmistakable this time, a steady, dragging’sound on the roof. Cathleen reached for the pink-shaded lights, and extinguished them with fingers that strove to be steady. She I thought quickly. They had arrived (that afternoon, without warning, 'from New York. Her father was to follow the next morning with his inurse and secretary. Only Blake and (the old housekeeper were in the I house besides herself. The chauffeur iwas in town. The house was one of several in a summer colony on the bay. The long gardens rambled straight down to the water’s edge. It was the last of the row, and faced the sea. on two sides. So far as Cathleen knew, there were Ino other residents there, only a few servants left in charge through the (winter. Blake moved cautiously to the nearjest window and peered out It was a stormy spring night The rain was 'pelting down in sheets. Out to sea {the lightning cut the darkness in long glittering gashes, coming swiftly after every crack of thunder. The house was , built with gables. Cathleen’s suite wttfotathe front so that the side windowsfcbmmanded a full view of the sloping roof on the least gable above the library. She leaned over Blake’s shoulder, and watched for the next flare qf light "There he is,” she whispered. “He’s climbed up as far as the parapet Blake, and is crouching behind that chimney.” "And what should he do that for, Miss Cathie T” Blake objected. "Wouldn’t he go in tiie windows by choice?"

“I don't know,” laughed Cathleen, her nerves running to extremes. "Maybe he prefers chimneys, I’m going to telephone the village and get the police out here just as soon as they can come." , Blake listened to the bowl of the Storm outside. "Ah, sure, they’ll never get up the shore in this gale, Miss Cathie,” she groaned, but Cathleen had already sped down the long hall, and she spoke only to the windowpane. “yes, hello, hello,” called Cathleen tremulously, as she got the number at Seponsett beadquarters. “This is Mr. Reid’s residence on the bay shore. There is a burglar on the roof, and 'I am alone except for two servants, both women. Can you send help at once? What? I don't know. We only arrived about half an hour ago. The house has been closed all winter. Do hurry. I’m afraid you’ll be too late." She hung up the receiver and turned around to face Blake. "I think he's trying to come down the chimney, 'deed, and I do. He’s noting that crafty, And there's the open fireplace in the library, Miss Cathie. Do you think he’ll be dropping down that way?" Cathleen felt a wave of faintness sweep over her. It was her first experience with burglars. But she cleanched both hands and stood fast “Shalll wake Mrs. Busby?" “No," replied Cathleen, firmly. “She’s too nervous. The police will be here In ten minutes. He wont come down a hot chimney. You go and build a fire in the library. Blake, and TH get papa’s revolver from his rooms, and cover him with it from my windows, and if he breaks in. 111 shoot”

The man on the east gable worked with deliberation. Now he crouched behind the low parapet as the wind swept in from the sea. Then Cathleen could see him start to work with renewed energy. He seemed to be tearing at the root There were slate plates on it Cathleen remembered. Mr. Reid was British, and had his own ideas of what a roof should be like even on Long Island. She wondered ts perhaps this was a slate thief, and then choked a laugh in her chief, at the picture of any burglar stealing pounds of slate to bear away down the lonely shore a night like this. More probably be, was a lunatic. There was a private asylum six miles away. Cathleen felt more hopeful. One might divert a lunatic where a burglar had preconceived notions. Suddenly he began to descend with startling rapidity. He was down on

the veranda roof before she realized it not thirty feet from her. “They’re coming, Miss Cathie!" called Blake, in a hushed tone from the lower hall. *You can hear them now." Cathleen raised the window, and leaned out "Don’t you move or I’ll shoot!” she cried. He moved, nevertheless, and Quickly, too. She leveled the revolver and fired into the darkness, but not toward the sound. There was dead silence on the roof below her, then she could almost have sworn she heard a laugh. Blake was directing the police upstairs. She heard steps below in the garden, hurried, adventurous steps, and drew back from the window, white and chilled. ' ’•They’ve got him, Miss Cathie, in the library,” Blake brought the news. “He’s that bold and daring, too. They, want you to see him. Not a word will he say." "Oh, must IF* Cathleen hesitated, but the Reid blood was not made of milk. Head up, and steady nerved, she went down to the library. The burglarg met her gaze squarely. He was young, smooth-faced, towsle-haired, rough-coated, hatless. His curly hair was drenched and curled tightly. It was the hair that gave him away. "Tommy,” she gasped. “Tommy, how could you?" “How could you?" retorted Tommy, mildly. “But I didn’t know you were here?” "Your father sent me down on the afternoon train." ‘Dut why on earth were you on the roof?” Tommy’s eyes twinkled. He raised his handcuffed wrists. “It leaked, lady. I was only fixing It. It was coming In awfully, and I was asleep In the room underneath. I didn’t hear you arrive even.” "You might have seen the light.” “But I was looking for a leak. Won’t you please explain?” Cathleen explained, with what dignity she could gather. The man was Mr. Thomas Drew, a close friend of the family. There was 'a mistake. She had no idea he was there at all. And she was very sorry. ’ When they were alone in the great dim library, Tommy took her in 'his arms with unmistakable intentions. "You said I was a close friend of the family,” he protested, "and you’re the family. Do you suppose I was going to be railroaded down South or West, while you stayed here for three months? The governor needs somebody here to look after his business interests, and I applied for the position. Also, the word goes around that I’m to be a junior partner. Will you be a June bride, sweetheart?” “Tommy, you don’t know how funny you looked In those steel rings." "The first week In June?" Cathleen laughed, and raised her face from his coat sleeve. "If you promise to keep off people’s roofs."

A curious scene was enacted the other day In a London (Eng,) police court, during the hearing of a charge brought against a young Swiss operatic artist In reply to the accusation the prisoner stated that he bad been engaged at a West End theater for ten years. Then, before any one had guessed his purpose, the court was ringing with a tenor song from one of the Italian operas. The amazed jailer stopped him as soon as he had recovered his presence of mind, and the accused seemed to share in the general astonishment "That" he said, with the profoundest of bows, “is to secure the verity of what I speak."