Evening Republican, Volume 59, Number 74, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 18 April 1917 — In Deadly Peril [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

In Deadly Peril

By F. L. HENDERSON

(Copyright, by W. Q. Chapman.) I was sorry, indeed, when Luigi Marevelli curtly informed me that my services were no longer required, and «I hoped that someone else in that strange home that had been my abode for two months was also regretful. This was Miss Naomi Sterling. She acted otherwise; in fact, distant, and I fancied an expression of distinct censure in her beautiful face. At all events no opportunity was afforded me to fathom or explain. Her employer and my own had coldly handed me an envelope containing. I knew, my week’s salary, with the words: “You can go at once.” And he added, a darkly suspicious And resentful look in his ever-restless. ever-probing eyes: “And you need not refer to me.” Miss Sterling, who was the reading companion of his invalid wife, stood nearby as he spoke. She had directed a searching look at me. Then she dropped her eyes. I saw a tear fall. Then, there being nothing more to say, I bowed politely and left the room' and the house. I need not have been surprised at the action of Marevelli, for he was ever an autocratic, eccentric old man. He was of Italian-French extraction, had inherited a fortune and had given his life to study along artistic and scientific lines. He had whole cabinets stored with curios, and a magnificent library. I had been employed to catalogue all of those, besides acting as his secretary. The mien of my employer and the general atmosphere of the dull old house were gloomy and unfriendly alike. My labor was light and congenial, however., and then again I was occasionally thrown into the company of Miss Sterling.

I cannot; describe the rare dream of grace and beauty that drew me under , the influence of this peerless creature. She waslmostiy in the~ roOms of the In- - valid mistress, and there was little opportunity for more than a casual greeting, or a few words exchanged at the table. There was the walled garden, however, and I managed to stroll there whenever I saw Naomi among the flowers and shrubs. Twice I spent a delightful half-hour with her. I left after those occasions fully impressed with the trope; nay, the conviction, that she read my love for her clearly. A fluttering emotion which she had betrayed had given me hope. One day she gave me a rose from tier bosom and blushed and moved away quickly. I determined tipon a confession of love the next evening, but before that day was over I was summarily dismissed from the service of Marevelli, as I have told you. I had only a small amount of money at my command and my first idea was of going East, where I had business friends. The thought of Naomi deterred me. While her latest action had clearly repelled me, yet I could not readily forget her. As I left the Marevelli mansion I tried to fathom the cause of the drastic action of its owner. Suspicion seemed to be the impelling- motive of his behavior; hut. why in my case? 1 was aware that he had been the victim, as a countryman of wealth, of that mysterious league of villains known as the “Black Hand.’’ I had seen their letters, menacing him, demanding a large amount of money as blackmail, or his life. Outside of the Usual sordid motive of personal gain of these schemers, I had heard that Marevelli was especially detested by these especial members of the league on account of some political differences reaching back to his former cureer in Italy. ■ Always on guard against those malevolent plotters, generally viewing them with contempt instead of fear, was it possible that Marevelli suspected me as a possible spy in their interest? Further, was it probable that he had imparted these suspicions to, his wife, who in turn had communicated

them to Naomi? , I ciwelt strongly, mentally, on this phase of the situation. Several times during the ensuing week I hovered about the Marevelli place. I caught sight of Naomi only once. She was ih • -the garden. I lifted my hat. —She - bowed in return, sadly, I thought, and went into the house. I was aggrieved.disappointed; but at least she did not betoken her former coldness. I had just finished a promenade past the house one evening when a sinisterfaced man of foreign cast swung along by my side. He was specious and insinuating in his address. After dwelling upon a few indifferent, everyday comments, he eyed me keenly. “Had I better say something in my mind I had to speak?” he inquired, craftily. "Why hot?” I submitted. “Very well. I know who you are — Adrian Noble, recently the victim of a whim of the hard tyrant in yonder, Luigi Marekelli.’.’ “I was his secretary once, yes,” I adimitted. “Yob cannot feel very kindly toward 'him. If I should tell you that the nipping in the bud of a vast political conspiracy in which Mareyelll is involved da our object, and a thousand dollars

cash will be yours for a trifle of cooperation, what would you say?" I had my clue in .an instant 1 feigned the resentment toward my employer which the stranger sought to. i fan into, a flame of rancour and venj geance. To make ii long story short, .1 | pretended blindly tp accord with the designs of the man and his accomplices to whom he later introduced me. What lie wanted of me was a practical use of the intimate knowledge I had of the interior of the Marevelli home anil the ways of its inmates. There were certain papers in the library they wished to secure, they represented. A burglarious entrance was necessary. I feigned interest and willing co-operation in their plans, expecting. sooner or later, to learn the full extent of their motives until the critical moment arrived, acting upon the same when they least expected Thus it was that one night 1 found myself with thejprio in the cellar of the Marevelli home. I had not intended to allow affairs to go so far without warning Marevelli, but it was too late to do that now. One of the men left us iu the cellar and ascended into the upper portion of the house. He returned speedily.. waving , a package of papers. “Safe!” he announced, in malevolent triumph. “Now, then, for the rest!” One of his confreres had carried an oblong box all the time. He opened it now. Within was a bomblike object .with a long fuse attached. I discerned their design to destroy the house and all within it by dynamite. It Was then that I resisted, to be downed by the trio. I was knocked senseless. The three men’were gone when I recovered; but, not five feet away, was a spluttering fuse, steadily eating Its way to the deadly explosive, My hands and feet were both tied. First. I writhed; then I shouted; then I rolled. It was no easy task to make a final lunge which landed me directly across the fuse, two feet away from its hissing, fiery end. My lips and teeth closed over it. I bit, chewed. Success! It was severed. Almost immediately someone came down the stairs from above, holding a lamp. It was Mr. Murevejli. I had, it seemed, kidked shut an electric con-

trailer of the electric light meter, thus plunging the house into darkness. Marevelli had descended to the cellar to Tfearn the cause of the sudden darkness, He needed only my simple story and environment to comprehend. My description of the men fully advised him of enemies who had threatened him with death time and again and who, after securing papers that incriminated them in past criminality.- had started the execution of brutal revenge. The men were under lock and key within twenty-four hours. Before that space of time had elapsed I was a hero in the eves of Marevelli, who had previously suspected me as an emissary of the plotters. And Naomi? I was basking anew in the sunlight of. her loving smiles!

Someone Came Down the Stairs.