bowed head ascended the
steps, guided and assisted by the detective. She did not look up at the
expectant butler waiting for the greeting he was sure Abigail would have
for him; but passed on into the reception hall.
"Your father and Mrs. Prim are in the living room," announced the
butler, stepping forward to draw aside the heavy hangings.
The girl, followed by Burton, entered the brightly lighted room.
"I am very glad, Mr. Prim," said the latter, "to be able to return Miss
Prim to you so quickly and unharmed."
The girl looked up into the face of Jonas Prim. The man voiced an
exclamation of surprise and annoyance. Mrs. Prim gasped and sank upon
a sofa. The girl stood motionless, her eyes once again bent upon the
"What's the matter?" asked Burton. "What's wrong?"
"Everything is wrong, Mr. Burton," Jonas Prim's voice was crisp and
cold. "This is not my daughter."
Burton looked his surprise and discomfiture. He turned upon the girl.
"What do you mean--" he started; but she interrupted him.
"You are going to ask what I mean by posing as Miss Prim," she said. "I
have never said that I was Miss Prim. You took the word of an ignorant
little farmer's boy and I did not deny it when I found that you intended
bringing me to Mr. Prim, for I wanted to see him. I wanted to ask him to
help me. I have never met him, or his daughter either; but my father and
Mr. Prim have been friends for many years.
"I am Hettie Penning," she continued, addressing Jonas Prim. "My father
has always admired you and from what he has told me I knew that you
would listen to me and do what you could for me. I could not bear to
think of going to the jail in Payson, for Payson is my home. Everybody
would have known me. It would have killed my father. Then I wanted to
come myself and tell you, after reading the reports and insinuations in
the paper, that your daughter was not with Reginald Paynter when he was
killed. She had no knowledge of the crime and as far as I know may not
have yet. I have not seen her and do not know where she is; but I was
present when Mr. Paynter was killed. I have known him for years and have
often driven with him. He stopped me yesterday afternoon on the street
in Payson and talked with me. He was sitting in a car in front of the
bank. After we had
And so I joined the navy, coming up from the ranks, as we all must, learning our craft as we advance.Page 5
I was on the bridge, and as we dropped from the brilliant sunlight into the dense vapor of clouds and on down through them to the wild, dark storm strata beneath, it seemed that my spirits dropped with the falling ship, and the buoyancy of hope ran low in sympathy.Page 6
It needed but a glance at him to assure me that something was amiss.Page 12
All this time we were drifting almost due east.Page 15
I held leadership, if I was to hold it at all, by virtue of personal qualifications only, but I did not doubt my ability to remain the director of our destinies in so far as they were amenable to human agencies.Page 16
But even after we rounded Ram Head and were well within the waters of the bay I saw no vessel.Page 19
We looked in the direction from which it came.Page 21
He came from under the tiger with a broad grin on his handsome face, nor could I perceive that a muscle trembled or that his voice showed the least indication of nervousness or excitement.Page 26
They produced fire by striking a bit of flint and steel together, but for the most part they ate their food raw.Page 27
They must have led me a mile or more at least before they again halted and commenced to browse upon the rank, luxuriant grasses.Page 33
" "By what name were these men called?" I asked.Page 34
I could only account for it on the hypothesis that the country had been entirely depopulated except for a few scattered and forgotten children, who, in some marvelous manner, had been preserved by Providence to re-populate the land.Page 35
He killed Wettin a few days ago.Page 41
Presently my attention was attracted by the shadow of something moving in the trench without, and a moment later the figure of a child appeared, creeping upon all fours, as, wide-eyed, and prompted by childish curiosity, a little girl crawled to the entrance of my hut and peered cautiously and fearfully in.Page 43
and superstition had the vaunted civilization of twentieth century England been plunged, and by what? War! I felt the structure of our time-honored militaristic arguments crumbling about me.Page 51
God give she does not die .Page 52
This brave and forever nameless officer died nobly at his post--true to his country and his king.Page 60
Snider demurred at the suggestion.Page 68
When I had told Delcarte and Taylor that I intended searching for the girl, neither had demurred.Page 85
And then came a handful of brave men--a little rear guard backing slowly toward the west, working their smoking rifles in feverish haste as they fired volley after volley at the foe we could not see.