HEPPNER GAZETTE TIMES, HEPPNER, OREGON, THURSDAY, MAY 19, 1927.
PAGE THREE
11
OUND to
U'OWTTHT
"Harold Mac Gvath
Illustrated by Henry Jay Lee
Copyright by Harold Mao Grain -Released thru. Autocaatair Servior
WHO'S WHO
Jeanne Beaufort, beautiful daugh
ter of a Virginia planter, has lost her
father and two brothers in the Civil
War. (The year 1864.) She swears to
Mrs. Wetmore, her aunt, that she
will carry out the Biblical injunc
tion for vengeance "an eye for an
eye!" While at Richmond she meets
Henry Morgan, a debonair young
officer, who falls in love .vith her.
She repels his advances. She is en
gaged as a spy for the Confederate
government and urged to uie all Ihe
vueb and power of her sex 10 find one
Parson Kennedy and bring him
within the Southern lines. It is plan
ned to have her make headquarters
with a family of southern sympathy
in Washington. Jeanne learns tele
graphy and other technical branches
of her new calling. And clad as a
boy often in the Blue of the North,
she makes her way through the lines.
She learns of an organization of el
even Union spies and of their meet
ing place in a Richmond loft. As
she overhears the leader address the
masked men seated about a table,
Jeanne is discovered and dragged into
the room. The leader unmasks as he
threatens her with death, but is dis
suaded from shooting her by the sug
gestion from one of the men that
one of their number marry her. . She
consents and when one of the masked
men volunteers to marry she refuses
and claims the right to choose.
She rejects the volunteer and se
lects the one who suggested the mar
riage. Him she names "Irony." To
her surprise the leader is no other
than Parson John Kennedy. He per
forms the ceremony. "Irony" says
his name is among those who sign as
witnesses, (just before they leave
her bound), in the following code
form :
John Kennedy, D.D.
C-WG-L H-RD-M
A-NK-S P-PA-G
G-RD-A J-NK-F
J-WG-A P-BN-S
F-WG-S W-BE-H
Later Jeanne learns that Morgan is
a spy.
To her surprise she receives a let
ter bearing the curious device she
had seen totooed on her husband's
arm. The letter, ironical in its tone,
shows that her unknown husband is
still in Richmond and knows the name
and identity of his wife! She cuts
her hair, stains her face and, going
to Baltimore, assumes the name of
Alice Trent, not knowing such a
person lived in Baltimore.
An intoxicated man accosts Jeanne
and" she is rescued by
Captain John Armitage, a young
Union officer whom she tells her as
sumed name.
CHAPTER X
WASHINGTON
Jeanne's hostess gave a reception
in September to one of the South
American ministers; and it was at
this affair that Morgan was presented
to "Alice Trent" while she was en
gaged in animated debate with Cap
tain Armitage. She made room for
the new arrival, and for a while di
vided her, attention and attractions
between the two men. She waB called
away presently.
"Charming young woman," was
Morgan's comment. "Where is she
from?"
"Baltimore, I believe." Armitage
turned an inquiring eye upon Mor
gan. "Where do you keep yourself?"
"Under the Senator's thumb. I am
beginning to weary of the position."
"Going?" as Armitage rose.
"Work." With a curt nod Armi
tage departed.
When he was sure that Armitage
had left the house, Morgan went in
search of Jeanni.
"I haven't been to see you because
i dared not. I fancy I am being
watched for what purpose I don't
know as yet. I am mailing you a
diagram of a certuin house. There
will be a secret passuge to the attic.
You will find a table there. In the
drawer you will place once a week
preferably Thursdays whatever im
portant facts you pick up. I'll attend
to the rest of it."
"If you will be at the Capitol at
nine tomorrow morning, I'll give you
something to do for me personally."
"1 am always and ever at your ser
vice. Good-by, then, until tomorrow."
He went away with the old enig
matical smile on his lips; and Jeanne
fell to comparing the two men. When
a young woman begins to compare
two men of her acquaintance, it is a
danger-signal for one of them: she
is about to place in her permanent
legard one above the other.
Promptly at nine that next morn
ing Jeanne stopped her carriage be
fore the Capitol. Morgan was strolling
along, apparently engaged in study
ing the cracks in the sidewalk.
"Mr. Morgan!" she called.
He looked up, paused and raised
his hat.
"Good morning. Miss Trent."
"Step in and I'll drop you wherever
you say."
"That is very good of you. I was
going to one of the recruiting sta
tions. The work is slow."
All this was of course for the ben
efit of the driver. When they were
on the way, when the noise drowned
their voices, she handed him a note.
He opened it.
"What's this?"
"I want you to find out who these
men are. They belong to the Secret
Service, or an arm of it. One of them
will have a tattooed mark on his left
forearm. Have you ever run across
a man named Parson Kennedy?"
"The Parson? Frequently."
"I want that man where 1 can talk
to him undisturbed. He can tell mo
what those letters mean."
"Would an abduction serve?"
"It would."
"Then everything falls out nicely.
And the reward?"
"We'll talk of that later."
"Well, you shall see Parson Ken
nedy twice to-night once at Sum
ner's and again in a certain hut by
the Potomac. I'll give you the di
rections. But what's in the air?"
"That is my affair." But she soft
ened the retort with a smile.
"You are wearing a wig; you have
died your skin. If I did not know
you with the eyes of love, I'd have
some difficulty in recognizing you.
Please pardon my asking you a ques
tion: your arms and shoulders?"
"I have not neglected them. You
saw that last night. But if you think
this is a good opportunity to make
love to me, you are mistaken. In this
game of espionage we are partners;
but beyond that, nothing."
"Who can say? Do you think I
will ever give you up?"
"Here is your recruiting station.
I had best drop you. What is that
soldier tacking up! Dead or Alive!'
Read it then come and tell me."
He came back, smiling with his
lips but covertly warning her with
his eyes.
"It is a dodger for the apprehen
sion of Jeanne Beaufort, dead or alive
medium height, slender, handsome,
dark eyes, very pale, dull copper-colored
hair; wears boy's clothes suc
cessfully." "A woman spy? How interesting!"
"Before God, you are a gallant wo
man!" he whispered. Aloud he said:
"Thanks for the lift, Miss Trent."
She smiled back at him as she drove
off.
"Dead or alive. But she went shop
pinp. Jeanne Beaufort, dead or alive!
How small she was, how helpless
and how long that arm suddenly
reaching out for her! So, after all
these months, they had found out who
she was? Slender, handsome, very
pale. Immediately everything became
eyes.
Dead or alivel She was a coward.
She wanted to run away and hide;
she wanted the strong, comforting
arms of her Aunt Delia; she wanted
her room at home.
But her indomitable spirit did not
long remain crushed.
She traced this catastrophe to the
man who had entered her room. She
knew now that he had been hunting
for her photograph. Well, he hadn't
found it. She possessed but one, and
that was at home. After all, she had
been expecting this. She had known
that she could not go on forever, in
definitely, without leaving some posi
tive trace of her individuality. Let
them catch her if they could; fore
warned and forearmed.
She reached home at noon, at the
precise moment Parson John Kenne
dy entered the private office of the
chief of the Secret Service bureau.
"Kennedy, we've found the name of
your scorpion, as you call her. We've
sent out dodgers, 'dead or alive' stuff.
The description is meager because
G-RD-A is a bumpkin where women
are concerned. A paper found on a
dead man and signed opened up the
way for G-RD-A. He has seen her but
ence, and this description is from
memory."
"The name!"
"Wait a moment. You told me a
remarkable tale the other night, or
part of one. I have every reason to
believe that that young woman and
your scorpion are one and the same.
Her name is Jeanne Beaufort; and
she is particularly good in assuming
boy and young men roles."
"He has set out to find a photo
graph of her, and if there is one, he'll
get it.
"Jeanne Beaufort if we find her,
it will be in Washington, mark my
words."
"The man you suspect goes no
where." "Smells a rat, likely."
"They have hanged poor Fogarty."
Kennedy bent his head. "He was
a brave young man. I came to ask
for Armitage. I want him to flolow
me for the next twelve hours and
never let me slip out of his sight.
I've been threatened again."
"You shall have Armitage. I'm
glad you spoke as you did. He was
about to rejoin his regiment."
There were several arms of the
Secret Service in those days, and the
most important was of course the
military.
The War Office and Secret Service
bureau had authority to draw a man
from his regiment in all cases except
when he was under fire. A good spy
had to be a ready thinker, of flash
impulses, of swift invention and
above all, young. It was the middle
aged who carefully weighed every
thing and then started forward just
a little too late. Parson Kennedy was
the exception.
When he left the Sumner place that
night he dismissed his hired carriage.
The bribed coachman drove off, mut
terine into bis beard, while the two
men cowering inside swore softly in
chagrin.
But they in turn had for once
looked farther ahead than Parson
Kennedy; and before he had walked
two block.i, three men fell afoul of
him. Strong as he was, he was not
a superman. They forced some pun
gent liquid through his teeth, tnd
a cloth was held over his nose.
When he came out of his stupor he
found himself securely bound to a
chair. Near by was a common table,
and on this a single candle burned.
A cabin but where? How far was
he from the city? Where was Armi
tage? When the last phase of dizziness
left his eyes he dimly saw two shad
owy forms by the cabin door. The
smaller spoke in a half-whisper.
"Send the men away, and you guard
the door from the outside."
"He is a dangerous man."
"Not at this moment. Do as I say."
The taller man went out reluctant
ly to obey orders. A boyish figure
approached Parson Kennedy and
stood with folded arms. Kennedy
could not see the face, for the hat
was drawn down too far; but he won
dered where he had seen that figure
Defore, that attitude.
"Parson Kennedy, look at this care
fully." The speaker drew out a fold
ed sheet of paper, opened it and held
it out for his inspection. The Parson
strained at his bonds his eyes pro
truding. "You remember that, then?" asked
the boyish one.
"Aye!" in a half roar.
"Tell me the names of each of
these men, and you shall go free. Re
fuse, and you shall be carried to Rich
mond, where they will hang you by
the neck."
"Hanged by the neck!" Kennedy
laughed laughter that had the in
flection of a baited tiger snarling at
his irons. "Yes, I know you, you lit
tle viper! Carry me away and hang
me, but never a word will you get out
of me. That's final. You'll sutler,
wonder always who the man was. I
know. But think you to dig it out of
my lips?"
A face appeared at the side window
and vanished hastily.
"I will say this much, Jeanne Beau
fort ah, you start? I regret that I
did not shoot you out of hand when
1 had the opportunity."
Jeanne returned the paper to her
pocket. She turned toward the door,
only to pause in alarm. She heard
a curse, some muffled blows a body
crashed against the rotting boards. A
moment later a revolver cracked; two
shots followed; then came a tramp
ling of feet, and then silence. The
door opened, and a man entered swift
ly. He wore a handkerchief over the
lower part of his face.
'Don't move," he warned Jeanne.
He passed around her to the Parson.
With one hand holding a steady weap
on, he worked with the other at the
confusion of knots.
"Don't let her get away. What a
prize, what a prize!" cried Kennedy.
The revolver wavered, Jeanne swept
the candle from the table, overturned
that and flew to the door unerring,
banged it after her.
"Armitage?" bellowed Kennedy.
"Quick! The others will be com
ing back."
They groped hurriedly for the door,
stumbled out and ran toward the
grove, throwing themselves down into
the thicket.
"Do you know who that was?"
whispered Kennedy.
"God knows, I shall never cease to
remember that night!"
"Pah!"
"She got away."
"You speak as if yoa were glad
of it?"
"I am."
"Milksop! That woman is Jeanne
Beaufort; and you have let her go!"
"Jeanne Beaufort!"
"Aye! And through your maudlin
sentiments you have freed her! "
la the small hours of that morning,
in a mean room, man sat wearily
at a table, his bare left arm stretched
across it. At the other aide was a
tattooer. He was putting on the
finishing touches of a circle with the
Greek-like letters in the center.
(Continued Next Week)
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