THE HEART OF VIRGINIA KEEP.

New Zealand Herald, Volume LIII, Issue 16372, 28 October 1916, Page 3 (Supplement)

THE HEART OF VIRGINIA KEEP.

BY EDWIN BAIRD, Author of " Th« City of Turplo Dream!,' etc (COrYRIGHT.) CHAPTER V.-(Continued.) Virginia came to a dead stop. Of a sudden it occurred to her how singularly lie had been acting. By now they had reached the box-hedge, dividing lawn and pavement; and Mattock, as an excuse for evading her eyes, began plucking the thick, green leaves. " Aren't you going with me to see Mr?. ! Sthmitt?' - No." "Why not!" He did not answer, nor did be look at her, "Why aren't you?" she insisted. Abruptly lie turned. Regarding her steadily, he said with a trace of sternness : " Virginia, ns State's attorney of St. Louis, I have a solemn oath to obey. - '

"Mrs. Schmitt, I want to ask a favouij of you. Will you come, home with mo?" Mis. Sclimitt's cold unfriendliness grew, more pronounced, "What is it you want?" she asked darkly. "Onto a confidential chat. I should like to have you stay for luncheon. Won't you come?" "Nix. It's my washday." " But you needn't stay long if you'd rather not." " I don't want to go with you." " I'm awfully sorry. I should so much like Ao have you. Arc you quito positive—" "What's the use chewing the rag?". Mrs. Schmitt cut in curtly, and started to close the door. Forcing a smile to her lips. Virginia, placed tier hand gently but firmly against the knob. Somehow at that moment she, recognised the real motive behind this crushing sacrifice of pride D«>p in hen soul she know that sli- was actuated not by love of her father, but by love of herself. Public scandal must be avoided at all costs. "If I were to come inside for a mo* moist." sho suggested, "perhaps—" " I ain't- seem' comp'ny today." The girl's tan Oxford shot out swiftly and caught the bottom of the door— had been wrenched from her grasp ami slammed in her face—against the jamb. Her face went white. "Mrs. Schmitt, you arc making vour. self ridiculous." breathlessly. "There 13 no reason for your acting in this way. You know as well as I that my father neverdid this—thing. Everybody knows that —or .should !" Retaliation succeeded where conciliatory gentleness bad failed. "So you think! Didn't I sec him when he done it?" " But why, then." Virginia hastened, "have you waited silently all these years!" "How could 1 tell your father was tho one: 1 didn't know nothing about it till the cop come." _ '.Somebody must have known." said] Virginia, watching her opponent narrowly, " because somebody warned my father."' " 1 don't know nothing about it," came the sullen denial. "But it proves— you think— you are not alone in your desire for vengeance? Someone certainly notified the. police. If it wasn't you, who was it?" " I don't know" » "How many persons besides yourself were in the saloon that night", Mrs, Schmitt?" " I don't—" " There was the barman, who is dead j the Greek, who was killed; the woman, who disappeared ; and yourself. Now, who else was there ':" "I ask you kindly." said Mrs. Schmitt with venomous urbanity, "please to take your foot outer my door." 'Surely you can remember,'' insisted Virginia—and. clenched her teeth. Airs. Schmitt had thrown her heavy bulk against the door so that the sharp edge of it squeezed the girl's instep cruelly. After a moment of torture the pressure was relieved. "Now will you take your foot out?" The Oxford shoe was removed from the sill. The door closed with a bang. A key grated in the lock. While Mis. Keep was reading Virginia's "want ad." in the St. Louis Publicist, '■ there entered the editorial room of that morning newspaper a young man by the ' name of Arnold Dempster Trade. The, staunch six feet of him and the tan of bis skin, the clearness of his blue eye, and ; the ciispness of his yellow, sun-scorched hair somehow suggested 11 product of the - West. But his clothes were made by a Fifth Avenue tailor: and the wholesome l ruddiness of his boldly chiselled face camo 1 from polo, yachting, 'and kindred sports, -1 not from punching. He was several times a millionaire. yI Ho owned the Publicist, the build, j ing that housed it, the ground on which ! the building stood, and various other; r j properties in and about St. Louis. Yet when he walked in that morning and inquired for Charles Moffett, tho managing editor, the office boy know him not. As :. a matter of fact, nobody in St. Louisj knew him. The boy asked for his card. v I He searched several pockets, then I ! smiled regretfully. )| "Can't seem to find one," he said, "Just say I'm a New York newspaper . ' man." It was somewhat early for Moffett, buj happily he happened to ho in. More hap- ; pily still he would see his caller, identity , unknown, in five minutes— said. Trudo wailed patiently for twenty minutes; then , a buzzer sounded, the office boy jumped ' from his bench, jammed his novel in a i hip-pocket, and presently brought the information, " Mr. Moffett will see you now." Ho nearly fainted when given a silver , dollar with the stern warning; "If you 1 value my friendship keep your head shut." ' Entering the editor's office, Trude closed tho door behind him and remained standing. "Morning, Mr. Moffett. Dropped in for a squint at my paper. I'm Trade." ' Moffet, who was a thick-set, heavily. bearded Scotchman, evinced 110 pcrturba- ; tion beyond a slight tremor of the pen with which he was affixing his signature, • to a letter. Having disposed of the, letter by dropping it in a wicker basket, he took a briar pipe from his pocket, filled ind , lighted it with deliberation, swung back 3 in his swivel-chair, rested a pudgy hand , on each knee, ducked his head and peered over his steel-rimmed spectacles at tho - young man standing beside the desk. "I assume, Mr. Trude, you planned to • take me by surprise." " Not exactly. _ Had reasons, though, - for not sending in my card." He produced a thick packet of papers, removed sonio rubber bands, and selected several letters, which he laid on the desk. " Credentials. Care to look 'em over?'* Moffett deposited a paper-weight on tho , letters, with the implication that he would ; investigate them later. > "HI had looked for you," he re« • marked as Trudo made himself comfortable on the office loungo, "I should b.3v<i • expected to seo an older man. You ana hardly moro than a boy." _ "But old in experience, sir." Beneath his tinshaped moustache, Not* fett's lips moved as if they intended to} i smile, then decided not to. "If you care to look the plant over,** he offered, rising heavily from his chair, "I'll bo glad to show you around." "Plenty of time for that. Keep youf i" Plenty of business that. Keep yon* seat. Little business matter to scttlq first." As the Scotchman sat down he shot) 4 furtive look of suspicion at his caller from behind the steel-rimmed spectacles. " Your lawyers—" he began. " No lawyers needed for this," Then abruptly: " Mr. Moffett, I've come all tho wafl out here from New York to strike you for a job. Do I make myself clear?"The editor shook his head. " You do not," he said tersely, "I thought not Well, here you are. About the time Uncle Jim Dempster died and left me a lot of stuff I had no use for, I cornered myself and took stock. All winter I'd been hitting a pretty swift clip, even for New York. Too swift. Knew I ought to quit— not that it was telling on my health, for I'm as tough as a battleship. But I'd managed to get into a rather ugly mess, Mr. Moffett, and my presence in New York was an inexcusable error. I won't go into details." He paused to light a cigarette, offering his case to Moffett. who declined. " Talked things over with my big sister —and, as usual, she had an inspiration. Why not eo West ? Why not earn my living? Why not, indeed, get a job oh Undo Jim's newspaper— my own— a reporter?" " Snappy idea! And so hero I am, all ready for work." He touched the whitening end of his cigarette with his little finger and looked to Moffett for approval. Moffett frowned. "You'll have to give me more light, Mr. Trude. I'm still in tha dark." "I want a job." " But you own the paper ! "How many people here know ttj What's to prevent Arnold D. d *™* York plute, becoming A. Dempsterj&rudo St. Louis journalist, and only job, W sister, and I being ih» wtorf Not thai it matters particularly, only— (Tft.-J» jpoatiau«i*a $<&&&&& i .•,