SEVEN KEYS TO BALDPATE.

New Zealand Herald, Volume L, Issue 15374, 8 August 1913, Page 3

SEVEN KEYS TO BALDPATE.

BY EARL DERR BIGGERS.

PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT. 5 --"\ ' *

' CHAPTER XlV.— (Continued.) Hatdkk wheeled quickly, and looked Magee in the eyes. A flush crossed his face, leaving it paler than before. He turned away without speaking. "Peters," said Magee, "you heard what Mr. Hayden said. An extra plate at dinner, please. I must leave you for a moment, gentlemen." He saw that their eyes followed him eagerly— full of suspicion, menacing. "We shall all meet again, very shortly." • " Havden slipped quickly between Magee and the stairs. The latter faced him smilingly, reflecting as lie did so that he could love this man but little. "Who are you?" said Hayden again. "What is your business here?" Mugec laughed outright, and turned to the other men. •

"How unfortunate," he said, "this gentleman does not know the manners and customs of Baldpate in winter. Those are questions, Mr, Hayden, that we are never impolite enough to ask of one another up here." He moved on toward the # stairs, and reluctantly Hayden got out of his path.. "I am very happy," lie added, "that you are to be with us at dinner. It will not take you long to accustom yourself to onr ways/ I'm sure." He ran up the stairs and passed through number seven out upon the balcony. Trudging through the snow, he soon sighted the room of Professor Bolton. And as he did so a little shiver that Was not due to atmospheric conditions ran down his spine. For one of the professor's windows stood wide open, bidding a welcome to the mountain storm. Peters had spoken the truth. Once more that tight little, right little package was within Mr. Magee's ken. ../ He steppe'd through the open window, and closed it after him. By the table sat Professor Bolton, wrapped in coats and blankets, reading by the light of a solitary candle. The book was held almost touching his nose—a remind' of the spectacles that were gone. As Magee entered,-the' old man looked up, and a very obvious expression of fright crossed his face., ■'. . "Good evening, professor," said Magee, easily. "Don't you find it rather cool with the window open?" "Mr. Magee," replied the much-wrapped gentleman, "lam that rather disturbing progressive— fresh air devotee, I feel that God's good air was meant to be breathed, not barricaded from our bodies." "Perhaps," suggested Magee, "I should have left the window open?" , The old man regarded him narrowly. "I have no wish to be inhospitable '," hereplied. " But—if you please—" , ' ' "Certainly," answered Magee. He threw open the window. The professor held up his book.

"I was passing the time ■ before dinner with my pleasant old companion, Montaigne. Mr. Magee, have you ever read his essay on liars''" -.'.-".'" " Never," faid Magee. " But T do not blame you for brushing up on it at the present time, professor. i have come -to apologise. Yesterday - morning I referred in a rather unpleasant way to a murder '; in the chemical laboratory at one :;, of our: universities. I said that the professor of chemistry was missing. This morning's paper, which I secured from Mr. ? Peters, informs me that he-has been apprehended." "You need not have troubled to tell me," said the old man,•'•• He smiled his bleak smile. '.'.- .■'■:'■:..', ' - "I did you an injustice," 'went on Magee. _,"•■'', "Let us say no more of it," pleaded Professor Bolton. ; : - ;:;.-;;. :.:.';:...:'," ;■ \-':>[;.':'K. Mr. Magee ; walked about the room. Warily the professor turned, so that the' other was at no instant at his back. .., He looked so helpless, ; so' little, so ineffectual," that Mr. Magee * abandoned his first plan of leaping upon ■ him there in the : silence. ■ By more subtle means than this must his "purpose be attained. "I; Ji ; ' ?:'%■ /"I suppose," he said, " your Love of fresh air accounts ; for the strolls on the balcony at all hours' of the night?" ': ? 'X/; . The old man merely blinked at him. ■ "I mustn't stop," Magee continued. "I ; just wanted to make my apology, that's all. It was unjust of me. Murder—-that is hardly; in your line. By the way,;'were; you by any , chance in my room this morning,_ Professor Bolton?" ':' ■[■&■■■..^[■ f : :?,'-Sy:f Silence. . ■■■.■■'■■■■."..■ : ■;.,•■ "Pardon me," remarked the professor at last, "if I do not answer. In this very essay on—on liars, Montaigne has expressed it so well. 'And how much is a false speech less; sociable than silence?' ,CI am a sociable man." "Of course," smiled Magee. ; He stood looking down at the frail old scholar. before him, arid considered. ' Of what avail a scuffle there in ,' : that '; : chill ? room? : The package was no doubt safely hidden in a corner he could not quickly find. No. he must wait and watch. , ' '. ,y "Good-bye, until dinner," he said, "and may you find much in your wise companion's book to justify your conduct.''/v, He went out through the open window, and in another, moment stood just outside Miss Norton's room. / She put a startled head out at his knock. ;■, /-■*,:.'"A "Oh, it's you," she said. "I can't invite you in. You might learn terrible secrets of the dressing ; table—mamma is bedecking herself for dinner. V Has anything happened?" / ';• i";V-:/ "Throw , something over your head, Juliet," smiled Magee; "the'balcony ,is waiting for you." -v.' ..;v:' -.:; v, ! She was at his side in a moment, and they walked briskly along the shadowy white floor. " - ■; -;-".' :-.'.'-■:--'■■■-■ -''v-Y-;;.->jf.: : "I know who lias the- money," said Magee softly. " Simply through a; turn of luck I know. I realise that mv protestations of what I am going to do "have bored you. But it looks very much to me as if that package would be in your hands verv soon. ':':'.'.'v'v;-, --..■.:.;■,■.:';:;.., :;..*' She did not reply. "And when; I have got it; and have ; given it to you—if I do." lie' continued what then?" -,•■/.■- "Then," she answered, " I must go awar —very quickly. And no one must know or they will try to stop me." , ~ ' "And after that?"' ', ■ . „ . mirth he deluge '" she fc«gl>ed, without Up above them the great trees of Baldpate- Mountain waved , their black arms constantly as though sparring with the storm. At the foot of the buried roadwav they could see the lamps of Upper Asquewan Falls; under those lamps prosaic citizens were hurrying home with the supper groceries through the night. ; And not one of those citizens was within miles of guessing that up on the balcony of Baldpate Inn a young man had seized a youha woman hand, and was saying wildly--Beautiful girl— love you." • * v Yet that was exactly what Billy Magee was doing. The girl had turned her face away. • said "'* 6 kn ° Wn me 3USt two da W she "If I can care this much in two days, he said, "think-but that's old, Wat it? Some time soon I'm going to say to you, 'Whose girl are you?" and you re going to look up at me with a say . Im Billy Magee's girl.' So before we g 0 any further I must confess everything—l must tell you who this Billy Magee is-this man you're going to aumlt you belong to, my dear." You read the future glibly," she reP ?' 0 - ' " Are y° Prophecies true, I wonder?' ' "Absolutely. Some, time ago—on my soul, it was only yesterday— asked if vou had read a certain novel called; ' The Lost Limousine,' and you said von had, and that—it wasn't sincere. Well, I wrote it—" "Oh!" cried the girl. ' l- ..,- "Yes," said Magee, "and Tve done others like it. Oh, yes, my muse has; oeen a nouveau riche lady in a Worth gown; my ambition a big red! motor-car. I've been a ' scramble-a-oent mister' troubadour beckoning from the bookstalls. It was; good fun writing those things, -and it brought me more money than was good for me. I'm not ashamed of them ; they were all right as a beginning in the game. But the other day thought an advertisement did the trick— turned, tired of that sort, and I decided to try the other kind—the, real kind. I thought it was an advertise-

taent that did it— I see now it -'war*; ptl because- you -were juat a few days away, ' ,', fij& "Don't tell ; me," whispered ■ the- girl, ,?'.*?« "that you ■'■ came up here •. to—to—" %'"ftfj?3 :; "Yes," smiled Mages, "I came up net* .'ii to forget for ever the world's giddy melodrama, the wild chase -for money, through deserted rooms, shots in the night, cupid ,3. in the middle distance. I came here to / V,, doliterature—if it's in me to do it. „ V .The girl leaned limply against the sii« '..''* of Baldpate Inn. ' " Oh, the irony of it!" she cried. *'- - "I know,' he said, "it's ridiculous. I. •V* think all this is meant just for—tempta- j<:% tion. I shall be firm. I'll remember your , 'f parable of the 'blind girl— the lamp/viSI that was not lighted. I'll do the real start'. >• ', So that when you say— you certainly v must some day—' Billy Magee's girl, i you can say it proudly." ' *% "I'm sure, she said, softly, "that if I '1 would"—for he had seized her hands '-?: ? 4$ quickly—" if I ever do say it—it will cer- • \ tainly be proudly. But now—vou don't' i■ • '4 even know my name—my right one. if on don't know what I do, nor where I come H .'■ from, nor what I want with this disgusting . -' bundle of money. I sort, of feel, you know ' T : —that this is in the air at Baldpate, even //. in the winter time. No sooner have the :"' men come than they begin to talk of—love'.'/':•;■ —to whatever girls they find hereorn : M this very balcony— "there under ".the* /-/' trees. And the girls listen, forit's in the ' ;'" air, that's all. Then autumn comes, and ..- everybody laughs, and forgets. May not -..,,/■ our autumn comewhen I go away?" "Never," cried- Magee. "This is no ■ summer hotel affair to me. It's a real in, :£f winter and summer • love, my dearin! :"/: .spring and fall —and when you go away I'm , going, too, about 10ft behind." ''■'.',' ' '"Yes," she laughed, "they talk that way .: at Baldpate—the last weeks of summer. / It's part of the game." They had come to the tide of the hotel on which was the annex, and the girl ..'.; stopped and pointed. "Look; she whispered, breathlessly. 'V '■ In the window of the annex had appeared for a moment a flickering yellow light. But only for a moment. "I know," said Magee. . " There's some- \'| body in there. But that ; isn't important »t" in comparison. This is no summer auair... dear. Look at the thermometer for proof. ' I love you. : And when you go away I shall follow." •• ; "And the book—'' £ "•"• V■■ " I have found better inspiration than - Baldpate Inn." "./ They walked along for a time in silence.. "You forget," said the girl, " you only know who has the money." ~ ■ " I will get it,"- he answered, confidently.; .". " Something tells me I will. Until i do I am content to say no more." ' " "Good-bye," said the girl. She stood ia ; the window of her room, while a harsh ■: voice called,: "That you, dearie," from in- r side. 'And I may add," she smiled, that ■// in •; my profession— .following is considered J "quite—desirable." \ !/./■'':/ '.': : p:M'l- .;* •■. &'-."■'■'/ ' She disappeared, and Mr. i Magee;; after a; 7 few minutes in his room, descended- again -.? to -the office. 'In- the : centre of i the room /■■■> Elijah Quimby and Hoyden Btood face to - face. .;'*■'• 'i ,>-;.i,:: : .'t;'. : .-i\.; ■/>/// .-■■& ;//- v;-.k■//■:/ ' .',

"What is it, Quimby?" asked Magee. / ■■; "I just ram up, to see how things were : -v going," Qnimby replied, "and I find him ,- here." . - • "Our latest guest," smiled Magee. ,' , ' •" "I was just; reminding Mr. \ Hayden," : " Quimby said, his teeth «if ■an angry light , ! in ; Ms eyes, "that 5 the last time we ; met f >/K he ordered me from his office. I told yon. Mr. Magee, that the suburban railway once promised to make use of" my invention. ~ Then Mr, Kendrick went awayand this ' man tool) charge. When I came around ;:': to the 'aHiceß,again~he laughed at me.' When ': I came the.'second*time he called ' r _> me a loafer and" ordered? me out."

He paused, and faced Haydfm again. , " I've grown bitter here on tiie moan-: tain," he said, "as I've thought over wfiat you and men like you said -to me—as I've jg £ thought of what might have , been—and ,'-:/ what wasyes, I've grown prettyV bitter. ;< Time after time I've gone over in my mind that scene in your "office. As I've, sat herd', I. i thinking you've come to mean to me .' all ■_ the crowd that made a fool of me. You've ; : come mean to me all the ''crowd; that ! said 'The public;be damned'' in niy ear, I hayen't ' ever ■ forgot—how' you'" ordered \me ''', ■' oui of- vour, office." - '" ' ' - -v ; "Well*?" asked Hayden. , -i^« .- "And nowi" QnircKv went- on, "I find * you trespassing in a hotel left in my care —the tables are turned- I ought to show you the door. I ought'-to put you out.' - "Try it," sneered Hoyden ' .;' i,^ ;:../. "No," answered ; : Quimby, "I : ain't going to do it. Maybe it's because I've ; grown timid, brooding over my failure.' And maybe it's because I know: who's,got the seventh key." ' Hayden made no reply. No one stirred for :j a■ ■ minute, ' and ' then Quimby T moved away and went out through the diningroom door. t > t i jy m&M (To be continued daily.) "Iffl