THE GIRL WITH
A MILLION
By D. C. Murray
CIIAPTEH XVII.
Town was filling fust after the Whit
suntide recess, and O'Rourke was back
in Iiondon, engaging less warmly than of
old in his parliamentary and journalistic
warfare with the world. It all mattered
so little now that he fought listlessly,
lie was gayer than ever in manner, and
more sympathetically charming than ever,
for he bad time to cultivate the friendly
emotions. The little widow stayed on in
Houfoy and kept her own secret.
Maskelyne came striding upstairs with
supernatural gravity of expression. This
changed for one moment to a delightful
smile when O'Rourke ran out to the land
ing place to meet him, and with both
"hands outstretched in friendly welcome.
"My dear old fellow!" said O'Rourke.
"""Not tired of Englaud yet? I have an
adle hour or two to-day, and had re
solved to come round and take a look at
.you." i.
"Upon my word," said Maskelyne, "you
are a man to be envied. You have the
power of benefiting your fellow creatures.
You are like fresh air."
O'Rourke laughed breezily, and took
stock of his friend with smiling eyes. He
saw that Maskelyne was pale, and almost
.haggard.
"Come," he said. "It strikes me that
you want fresh air. You're not looking
well, old fellow."
"Do you think not?" asked Maskelyne.
"O'Rourke, I'm going to surprise you."
"Are you?" asked O'Rourke.
"I am causing some unnecessary anx
iety to the authorities of Scotland Yard,"
said Maskelyne. VI think it's in conse
quence of my having been a good deal
with Dobroski of late. At any rate I
am being watched. My goings out and
comings in are observed with constant
vigilance."
"Stupid beggars," said O'Rourke, with
friendly petulance. "Abominably annoy
ing, isn't it?"
"I don't know," returned Maskelyne.
"It makes me feel nice and safe. . But
It is not worth while to cocker up a mere
private citizen of the United States in
that way., The old country is well to do,
hat she can't afford it. And I don't think
I should feel humbled any way if my
bodyguard got told off to some one else
who was more in want of it."
"I'll stop all that for you," said
O'Rourke.
"There's a good fellow," answered Mas
kelyne, and fell into silence.
At this instant the knocker on the hall
door was brought into play with violence.
There was an audible whirl and scurry in
the hall as the housemaid ran to the
door to answer this unusual summons,
.and a second or two later a voice cried
rw loudly that O'Rourke and his compaa
Jon heard it.
"Mr. O'Rourke's within doors! Don't
: 'be telling me he's not, for I know he is.
. 111 find the way myself."
''That Is Fraser," said Maskelyne.
"'Did you conjure him here?" O'Rourke
; asked. Steps flying up the staircase, and
Fraser, perspiring and pale, burst into
the room, holding in his left hand a news
paper and a walking stick. He closed
the door behind him, nodded strangely
to Maskelyne, and then, striding to
O'Rourke, thrust the journal he carried
Into his face, and flourishing his stick
8 if he were trying the temper of a
foil, cried, "Look at that, ye voiper!"
O'Rourke, with a look of wonder, took
the journal and retired a pace.
"Oho!" cried Fraser, rolling his head
t his ancient comrade bo energetically
that he rolled his hat off. "Don't be
Blinking your faces of innocence at me,
3 lector O'Rourke, Maybe ye didn t write
if hut 7 Come, now. Maybe ye didn't
, write It? Well, ye're a loyar, for write
it ye did. And here's the manuscript in
jour own dirty fist, ye smiling snake."
He tugged a little rolled-up bundle of
paper from his breast' pocket and stood
in a white heat of passion, flourishing it
and the stick. O'Rourke smiled with,
less than his usual spotancous charm, and
Maskelyne set himself between the two.
Ye needn't fear," said Fraser. "I'll not
soil me hands with the dirty coat of him.
For tew pins," he added, turning anew
upon O'Rourke, "I'd cleave the life out
of ye."
"This seems likely to be a private af
fair," said Maskelyne, in his quiet way,
and I won't meddle with it. But we'll
have no fighting."
"Private, begorra !" cried Fraser, snort
ing. "It's that private there's a round
fifty thousand copies printed at the very
J rant. Would ye believe It, now, Mas
kelyne? I put it to you. Ye're not the
smartest man Wive, but ye're a man of
lionor, and I put it to you. Here's this
flirty villain, here, has been going about
with me for years and damaging inoy
reputation by calling me his friend, and
fcorrowing money from me by the handful
whenever I had a sixpence in me pock
1 tc, and all the toime he's been attacking
now anonymously. I've had him bring the
articles the very orticles he's written
and wonder at me who was the blagyard
that wrote 'em, and making innocent oyes
and swearing hed like to know the vil
lain that did It."
"Come, come, Fraser," said O'Rourke,
"don't make a mountain "out of a mole
hill." -
There was something In this reply
which so exasperated Fraser that, but
for Maskelyne'g Interposition, he would
'then and there have assaulted O'Rourke.
"I'll mole hill the villain I" cried Fra
:er. "I'U mountain him !" He struggled
o get vast Maskelyne, who held him
back with an unexpected strength and
adroitness. "Ye take that rufliau's part,
do ye?" he said, suddenly ceasing his ef
forts. "Then I disown ye. Ye're no
friend of mine."
"My dear Fraser," returned Maske
lyne, "I am taking your part as much as
O'Rourke's. I know nothing of the mer
its of the quarrel, but you shan't fight
if I can help it."
"If ever ye speak to me again," said
Fraser, stooping for his hat and shaking
it in O'Rourke's face over the interven
ing Maskelyne's .shoulder, "I'll cane ye.
I'll take any solitary word ye speak to
me as a sign that ye want a hoyding.
And that's my farewell to ye."
He followed this declaration by an ab
rupt exit, ran noisily downstairs and
slammed the street door behind him.
"There's a Celtic madman for you,"
said O'Rourke. Maskelyne looked at him
with an air of grave inquiry, almost . of
displeasure. "I don't know that it was
altogether fair on my part, but then the
belgar provoked it. He has been alto
gether unamenable to party discipline of
late, and I gave him a little satirical
dressing down in the hope that it might
do him good bring him to his senses. If
you'll wait for me a moment while I
dress," the patriot resumed, "I'll drive
down to the House and take you with
me. I'll introduce you to the Home Sec
retary, and he will take the frouble to
put right that absurd little affair you
spoke of a while ago. Shall we go?"
'"Yes," said Maskelyne. rather coldly.
"I shall be very much obliged."
"Confound him," thought O'Rourke.
"The yarn may be true, after all, foolish
as it sounded."
CHAPTER XVIII.
Farley and Dobroski had encountered
more than once Bince the novelist's re
turn to London. The novelist's general
creed being patience, and the anarchist's
impatience, each formed a capital study
for the other. To Farley, Dobroski typi
fied the capital error of human nature,
and the elder man knew it, and Indeed
heard it sometimes, and retaliated In
complete good faith and good temper.
"I am writing a book," said the novel
ist, one day. "The story, though mainly
carried on in England, takes me abroad
tto Russia. I have been reading for
months to get what I want, but I do not
seem to breathe the Russian atmosphere.
I miss the feel of what I want to do.
And I have an Idea of which I am not
quite certain. I should like to lay it be
fore you, and to ask your opinion about
it."
"I am wholly at your service," said
Dobroski.
"Let me begin with the Incident," said
Farley, nervously.. "You will see the
better then on what points I stand in
need of advice. The thing began in my
mind out of some mock-heroic nonsense
I was talking to my wife on the night
on which you found my boy in the wood
at Janenne and brought him home to us."
"Yes," said Dobroski, with an atten
tive smile.
"I am conscious of having used you as
a figure to hang another man's dress
on. You must understand that the cen
tral figure of my story is an elderly Rus
sian noble. When the story opens he Is
an exile from his native land. He has
identified himself with the popular as
pirations, has joined himself with the
revolutionary party, the plots of his
friends have been detected and he has
escaped with his life."
"One moment," said Dobroski, raising
his hand. "Who is there? Come in."
The door opened and Wroblewskoff en
tered. He bowed to Farley and took
Dobroski's extended hand in his own with
deep reverence of manner.
Sit down," said Dobroski to the new
comer, "lio on, Mr, r aney.
"We will talk of this another time,"
returned Farley.
"No, no!" cried Dobroski. !'Let us
talk of It now. Go on."
Permit me to retire," said Wroblews
koff, rising. "I am evidently in the way.
I see it and feel it. You have private
things to speak of, dear and respected
sir."
"No, no," said Austin, "not at all."
"Wroblewskoff knows as much as I,"
broke in Dobroski, smilingly. "Tell your
tale to both of us. His advice will be
of as much use as mine."
"Well," said Austin, "the Russian no
ble came to England. There he imag
ined himself to be safe, but he was the
repository of many secrets, and the Rus
sian government would have given much
to have him in their hands."
"As they would you, sir, said Wro
blewskoff, "and even me."
"A spy," continued AuBtin, "a spy In
the Russian service, a Greek, a cunning,
unscrupulous and fearless rascal, deter
mines upon the noble's arrest."
Mr. Wroblewskoff changed the position
of his chair and brought his face. Into
deep shadow.
"He racks his mind in vain for a plan
by which the anarchist can be induced to
return to bis native country. At length
he hits upon a scheme. He is personally
unknown to his Intended victim. He
comes to England, feigns a profound
sympathy with the revolutionary cause,
secures an Introduction to the anarchist
and becomes Intimate with him,"
Farley was telling the story with his
eyes upon the carpet of the room, as If
he were reading something there. Dob
roski lay back idly in his chair, looking
, toward the celling. Wroblewskoff tat
with 'his right hana thrust carelessly In
the breast of his coat. The right hand,
though neither of his companions guessed
as much, held the. butt of a revolver
there.
"When the Greek has once secured an
intimacy with the Russlnn he makes a
journey to Calais. There he hires two
rooms, which he furnishes In precise Imi
tation of his Vooms In London. He goes
to Vienna, and there hires two other
rooms, and again furnishes In precise
imitation of his rooms in Loudon, lie
then returns to London, and explaining
his absence by any pretense you may
choose to fancy, he renews his intimacy
with his victim. He iuvltes the victim
to dinner and drugs him. Oue of his ac
complices is a doctor. The unconscious
man Is driven to the railway station in
a well appointed carriage and Is lifted
Into a sleeping wagon. The doctor at
tends him. The poor gentleman Is being
carried to his native air as a last resort,
and the doctor is most sedulous In his
watchfulness. He hovers about hira as he
is carried to ,the steamer. He watches
him across. A second well appointed car
riage meets the conspirators and their
victim atj Calais. The drugged man
awakes in due time, and looking about
him, finds himself surrounded by the ob
jects on which he closed his eyes. The
same pictures hang upon the walls. the
same ornaments decorate the mantelpiece,
the same furniture is disposed about him
in the same positions, lie recognizes the
gentlemen with whom he dined. They
bend over him In tender concern. He
has been 111, but he knows that one of
his friends is a medical man a man of
the highest repute, he has been told. He
is advised to lie still and repose himself.
He Is able in a little while to take nour
ishment. The object of his abduction Is
not to kill him, but to hand him over
with all the secrets which he only can
reveal. His life is precious to his cap
tors. When he Is sufficiently recovered
to endure a second dose without danger,
he is drugged .anew. And then the well
appointed carriage, the sleeping wagon,
the railway journey, the awakening to
the familiar faces and the familiar pic
tures on the wall, the partial recovery,
the composing draught, and all. Finally
he is landed In Russian territory, and is
arrested."
Dobroski had listened to all this with
an attentive air, but M. Wroblewskoff
had heard it with a watchfulness alto
gether cat-like. His keen look dwelt
alternately on Dobroski and Farley.
"Yes," said Dobroski, when Farley's
pause had lasted long enough to seem to
demand an answer to his speech. "The
plan is simple and ingenious enough.
What of it?"
"If any servant of Russia took upon
him to carry such a plan Into execution,
and succeeded In it, would his government
accept the risk of detaining the man?"
"What do you say to that, Wroblew
skoff?" asked Dobroski.
"I have not altogether understood, dear
sir," said Wrobleswskoff. "Is It his
tory? Is It a discovered plot? Has it
happened? Is it feared that It will hap
pen?" "Neither," said Austin. "It Is merely
an invention. It is part of the plan of
a book I am writing a novel."
. "Sir," cried Mr. Wroblewskoff, rising
to his feet, "do not write that book."
"Why not?" asked Austin, a little
startled by the other's vehemence.
"Oh. sir, put no such tool as that in
Muscovite hands', Put no such thought
as that in Muscovite hearts! If that
thing has not been done, it Is only be
cause they have not seen their way to
do It. Do not show them such a way.1
Do not set a trained and cunning intel
lect to work to devise plans for that
devilish police. Ah, dear sir" he turned
to Dobroski "your friend must not Im
peril your safety."
"My good Wroblewskoff," said UoD-
roski, with his mournful and affectionate
smile. "Write your book,, Mr. Farley,
with no fear of my amiable companion's
fears. You ask me would Russia do such
a thing as you have described. I tell you
she would do anything for her own profit.
If the thing were well done, the victim
would disappear simply and absolutely.
No Inquiries would unearth him."
"He would never be heard of more,
cried Wroblewskoff, with new vehemence.
"You confess it. You admit it. Such a
scheme made public sown broadcast In
a book ! It Is intolerable. It is horrible.
It is terrible."
Even whilst he stood declaiming there,
a vivia nope was Durning witnin nim,
and the thought was in his mind, "If
I could frighten the fool from writing
sch a tale, I should have all the credit
.Nobody knew better than Mr. Zeno
how his employers would applaud and
pay the man who placed Dobroski In their
hands. But then, on the other hand, no
body knew better than he how complete
ly that man would be lost who tried
such a trick as Farley bad been speaking
of, and failed in it. To succeed would
be to be covered with glory that Is to
say, with glory of such quality as Mr.
Zeno coveted. To be found out to be
foiled to give reason to the enemies of
the master he served fpr a new outcry
against the disregard of national honesty,
would be to. be lost beyond redemption.
It was a big stake to play for, and Zeno
had had It In his mind ever since he had
been set upon Dobroski's track. But It
had been with him as a dream rather
than as a plan a thing to wish for rather
than arrange. Now that he saw It formu
lated it looked possible. Zeno walked
homeward, turning the thing over In his
mind. Then he began to draw up an in
ventory, v
(To be continued.)
Between Friend.
Alyse Jack Is desperately In lore
with me. He proposed last night
rayse Speaking of desperation
that certainly was the limit Chicago
News. .
SXOAVATDra THB
-wtfjitffcr M&frM- I'nf'Ji1!
HUGE "STEAM NAVVY" AT WORK IN A PANAMA CANAL CUTTING.
The Panama Canal Is being excavated by means of digging machines hav
ing the appearance of mechanical hands armed with steel nails, which tear
away nearly a truckload of material at a single effort A line of "flat cars"
Is seen waiting for the soil as the arm comes twinging back from the face
of the cutting. The sight Is a fascinating one to watch.
BITTED Y SECBETAET WILSON.
Man Who Has Built U the Depart
ment of Asrrloultnre.
For more than ten years Hon. James
Wilson has held the position of Sec
retary of Agriculture and under him
the department has grown to be one
of the most Important of the branches
of government. When he became Sec
retary, the department consisted of a
few scientists and a couple of roll-top
desks and was not seriously regarded
anywhere. He proceeded at once to
revolutionize It, bis main Idea being to
protect the home market and grab all
the foreign trade he could. He acted
on the theory that this was the Little
Father decrement of the government
and that the development of the In
dustry which he represented was his
chief concern. While other cabinet of
ficers devote themselves to the routine
humdrum of their duties, writes a
Washington correspondent, Wilson has
been "projlcklng" around the whole
globe In search of things. He has de
veloped such an ear that he can hear
an apple grow In Thibet; and as soon
as he does he dispatches an expedition
after it. In Finland they grow alco
hol potatoes, Immense things, as big
as your head, and no earthly good for
eating. Wilson sent after them and
had them brought here and natural
ized not to eat, but to get alcohol out
of. A year or so back he sent some
scientists into the Interior of China
to get a rare peach, never heard of out
of that section, and never heard of in
most of China said by legendary
sharps to be the original peach that
Eve buncoed Adam with, but Wilson
did not go' after It on account of its
historical value, but because It was
good to eat.
He Imported macaroni wheat from
Italy, and. set the unimaginative farm
ers of America to raising that high
class product. He fostered the Suma
tra leaf tobacco growing Industry. It
Is due to him that the mohair Industry
has grown to Its present proportions,
He found that we spend 824,000,000 a
year for mohair, and be couldn't see
why mohair could not be raised here.
He brought It over, and now we are
raising it on a tremendous scale In
Arizona and Texas, and men are get
ting rich on It
Then be star.cd In. on milch goats.
Hit Idea was that any poor man who
SECRETARY JAMES WILSON.
PANAMA CANAL.
had room enough to keep a couple of
goats could raise his own milk supply
and trivial as this seems, It is worth
counting to a man who has to figure
up pennies Instead of dollars when ha
looks over his household accounts.
He has started the task of restoring
the extinct Morgan horse. The Mor
gan horse was the highest breed we
ever had in this country. Its center of
origin and development was New Eng
land, particularly Vermont The civil
war took all the Morgan horses Into
the cavalry, and the western emigra
tion which followed the war finished
the breed. They got mixed up with
others until a pure-bred Morgan horse
became unknown and the breed entire
ly disappeared. Wilson took up this
task about two years ago. lie got a
man In Vermont to give 200 acres for
a Morgan horse farm, and Wilson li
running It
He has also gone In for developing a
distinct breed of American coach horse.
He has got a place out In Colorado
where the work Is being managed by
one of his scientists, and expects to
produce an-extraordinarily handsome
breed of horses. George Rommel Is
the man in general direction of this
scheme.
Wilson has given a great deal of at
tention to the problem of corn breed
ing, of solving the problem how to get
as much corn as possible on one hill.
If a man gets only two or three ears
to a hill Wilson regards It as a waste
of productive force, because the total
number of bushels produced Is lees
than It ought to be. He sent out to
Illinois and got Shame, the most dis
tinguished corn breeder In the world,
t-n . I A 1. . .li.
lu uuiiio caul kuu itino cuargo 01 mis
scheme.
These are merely a few Illustrations
of the way in which Secretary Wilson
has been playing the Little Father for
ten years. Ills department Is now one
of the greatest In the government and
he baa thousands of ,men under him
while his predecessors had scores or
hundreds.
Nobody can do more with Congress
than Secretary Wilson. Every year it
Is announced that expenses are going
to 'be cut down not on the navy or
army, but on civil expenses, rivers and
harbors, postofBces, agriculture and
such things. The River and Harbors
Committee swears that river and har
bor expenses shall not be cut down, and
the Postofflce Department throws fits.
But Secretary Wilson goes down to the
Agricultural Committee, meets blank
and hostile faces, and In two hearings
has them alt won over to his side. Not
by blarney, not by rhetoric. By Jam
ming facts Into them In his nasal
snarl.
There are refreshing things about
Wilson, In this age of kow-towing to
the powers that be. He bends the
knee to nobody, not even to Roosevelt
He never antagonizes anybody , reck
lessly, and never surrenders his opinion
to anybody. ' And In a fight he Is holy
terror. For he fights as craftily as he
fights boldly. . ,
Reminder,
"Is your wife spiteful?"
I "The worst ever! She keeps all my
'old love letters." Detroit Free Press.