yh ABBO'TSFOR . SUMAS AND MATSQUI NEWS The gray-eyed | into a passerby. arm. » “Wait a minute,” he said. “We| ought to talk this over a bit, hadn't] we? There's no hurry. .” His} smile was friendly. “The Arabs, | you know, have a saying: ‘What is) there to hurry for? We are all go- ing the same way. Why should we | try to pass one another? Let us enjoy today, for today will Sear | come again. ." Of course this isn't Egypt, but—” He stopped short at the look of blazing fury in the depths of the, Coleman Hot Plate thousand © Burns 96% air— 4% fuel | @ Makes its own gas from gaso- line e@Use it any- where. Nopipes nor connec- tions girl’s dark, mysterious eyes. Her} as |° Lights instant- i A hi PRICED AS LOW AS \ No pre- | | voice was a flame at him. ¥/.00! Oneburneran: heating @ Economical. One gallon of fueloperates both burners 15 to 20 hours. “TI hate Egypt!” | _ Then she was gone, flying up the avenue, losing herself in the crowds, never looking back. Michael Fair- bourne stood staring after her. Then) he grinned and shrugged as he light-| ed a cigarette and moved carelessly | along the street. “Seem to have dubbed my shot again, eh?” he murmured. Then he glanced along the street as if again seeing the black-eyed girl with the camelia skin. “Still, I’m won- dering a little—" AUTEN UUTAUASGUETAPUAESTAEEED SESE = Thou Shalt Not Love iS = E — A NOVEL BY — e 5 = GEORGIA GRAIG ANNEUAURERELEUNORNEUUUCCGEOOUOCRCOTOUOTEEATY: CHAPTER: I.—Continued CHAPTER II. There was no good reason for Starr Ellison to be on Fifth Avenue that cheerful early Autumn mid-day. Only that it was not Sixth Avenue. Nor was there along it any employ- ment offices, wordlessly insisting on her need for job hunting in the sordidness, After her visit to the doctor, with whose smiling assistant she had, in- cidentally, left the greater part of her small remaining store of cash— for the privilege of being told she had only six months more of life— Starr had not realized that her tempestuous words had been spoken aloud until the man's voice inter- rupted. It was a crisp, pleasant voice, with a lazy, amused drawl. She whirled around to face him, hands gripping her handbag tightly as the nearest support. The man had detached himself from the careless crowds, and stood not far from her elbow, indolently leaning against a corner of the show window frame. He was looking) such small and distasteful matters down on her with quizzical gray eyeS/ as searching for a job appeared of that held a glint of humor in theta small moment. Especially when depths. For that first startled) there were no jobs. Why keep on moment Starr's complete vision Be hunting for one by which she could filled with him. He was tall, hand-| merely keep the breath of life in her some in a bronzed, broad-shouldered body for six months more? It hard- slim-waisted way, with a physique/jy seemed worth while. that bespoke the owner's pride of its) “ sych thoughts were in Starr's possession in its care. He wore dark, mind as she fled along the street smartly tailored clothes which were) s¢ter her tempestuously uttered re- unerringly placed in their category) pejjion against Fate in the atmos- of good taste. Money, too, of course. phere of the prosperous Avenue. That he was accustomed to that S| Nevertheless, she mechanically turn- to the air he breathed was in his! oq at the next corner and sought the slightly arrogant features, features! .treet made clamorous by the El which had just the proper tinge of overhead, and headed for the hardness to give him an air of in-| agencies which were on her list and teresting masterfulness. 3 not already tried that day. She pine sate of UR oe was it} couldn't be a quitter entirely, she ‘ Sor coned posed, even if she had so short his lips more widely ‘as he looked a time to fight. Work was most straight into Starr Eilison’s upturned necessary at the moment. Vitally so, face, from which the eagerness of|¢,. she had a most distasteful mem- her passionate plea had not fled. ory of her seance that morning with “So you want to play, do you?”| tye keeper of her rooming house. A he repeated, with maddeningly slow dreary, hopeless kind of place it was, emphasis. but Mrs. Maloney who kept it, had Starr could not understand Why) made it quite plain to Miss Ellison on the instant she was not annoyed | that she had waited for her rent at his intrusion, or his very appar- quite long enough, and that while ent jibing. Such a short time ago| she was right sorry that Miss Elli- the Starr Ellison she had always son couldn't get a job, there were known would have thought furious-| nenty of other people in the same ly: “Masher!” and one look would|s, ‘after all, Mrs. Maloney's was have been a crushing retort to him. | 14+ an eleemosynary institution. In Today it did not matter. Such| other words, Mrs. Maloney had con- things were of so small account. veyed to Starr that if she was pre- Nothing mattered, anyway. Every- pared to pay her three weeks’ ar- thing was an affair of relativity.| jars of rent that she could have her Things were important only because clothes, Otherwise— a easy Ms ae hen oan orc a ives ceichicouidinerconsiaered@rracs It was beginning to look like a rough fically no future! at allswnathdla it ride ahead for a girl who, at most, matter what she might say or do? ice ne ee ee | eee ee E & WHINE CORRE! OEE AE) AREY S793 where—without baggage. Even if might say or do? Even though she was surprised at sep were Nene # to pans outs in\ aix months, in the meantime, she sup- herself, steadily Starr returned the contemplative scrutiny of the gray posed, she would have to sleep some- eyes that were amusedly regarding where. . her, She placed him. Readily, The| ‘4 Wty smile crossed Starr Elli- man before her represented that gay, | 50"’s lips as she rushed along. She— smart world she had never known,|S"¢!—Wwho didn't know. where she for which she had yearned—the| WS 80ing to sleep that night, had other half of the world which knew| been wasting her time on Fifth how to play. He had taken advant-| Avenue, rebelling against not hay- age of the opportunity. He stood for ing a taste of life. She had been all she had lost in life and could| Wanting to play! She didn’t know that noon had never hope to attain. come, and forgot that her breakfast She cried out at him suddenly, her eyes blazing at him as though ‘she had been a doughnut and a cup of coffee until she suddenly realized were, through him, hurling- her defy that the crowds who were jostling to earth and heavens: “Yes, if you must have it! More her, elbowing her, were making their than anything else in this wide, wide] Way into the rows of eating places world, I want to play!” that sat cheek by jowl along the The smile in his eyes was taunt-| CTOSS street. She stopped still be- ingly on his lips, as he drawled: fore one of them, drawn irresistibly by the sight of the good things to ‘That, I should imagine, should be - something not too hard to arrange—” eat temptingly displayed. Another But, aghast at herself, Starr was| Show window! She forgot that she was hurrying backing away, long lashes dropped % to look for a job, forgot she had over her confused eyes. What had she done? Unnoticed she backed wanted to play, forgot even for that ~ minute what that doctor had told her, as her eyes widened at sight of the food, and then swept on further to the people at the tables. In her STE HORSES WORK BETTER when freed from Saddle Boils, Cuts, Bprains, Distemper, Colic, etc. by eyes was an expression of looking Minard’ Aolaents eer: eibatie upon some amazingly absorbing as scene, but it was no more apon|| aie ‘et’s and pcrana . which she gazed than the vista of AR D' food and warmth that spread out in MIN i S one of those restaurants which not so long ago Starr Ellison would not have bothered to give a passing man’s hand went out to touch her} butter gravy, crispest looking salad. glance. ‘ Two prosperous looking business RY ] M E girls were having their luncheon} with a steak that was simply oozing new peas and the “They'll spoil their figures,’’ Starr told herself, and knew she was laugh- ing at herself, too. She was yearn- ing for just such a meal. Starr Elli- son—hungry! She turned sharply when some one touched her arm, looked up to see 4 girl of about her own age standing timidly before her. But the girl was not well dressed as Starr was, with her carefully preserved tailleur. There had been a pitiful attempt to “look nice,’ Starr could see that, but how could any girl look nice in cloth- ing that was frayed almost past the wearing point? And her cheeks were gaunt, pale beneath the spots of rouge. “T—I hope you won't mind me— speaking to you, Miss,’ she said huskily. “But I’ve been looking for somebody— Oh, I can’t stand it any longer—being so hungry. I've been looking and looking for a job, but—” Her voice broke. The pathetic girl did not need to explain to Starr that she was not a regular feminine panhandler. The irony of it! But of course. Starr understood at once. She had forgotten, for the time being that to the casual observer she still looked like a girl used to ermines and orchids. “I'm so sorry!” she said impetu- ously. “But you see, I can't—" The dying of hope in the girl's eyes, her painful confusion, were too much. “Wait a minute!” she said, as her gloved hands fumbled at her purse, a smart looking purse that she had picked up in Cairo on that last dreadful trip and was using now be- cause it was the last one left. She took a quick inventory of its con- tents, and handed the girl a quarter. That would leave—she didn’t dare count the thin wad of dollar bills. But they would keep her going for a night or two. < The girl! was choking her thanks. “You won't be sorry,” she said as she took the coin with trembling fingers. “And I hope you'll never know, Miss—” Starr was not hearing her. She was hastily heading on down the cross street—toward the employ- ment agencies. She dared not look back at the girl. That starving girl might be herself before long unless... “There may be worse things in the world at that,” she was mur- muring, “than having only six months to live.” Yes, and there was a bit of com- fort in the thought that there might be better things than having an op- portunity to go back to Mrs. Mahon- ey’s rooming house that night—even if. she could—that unspeakably drab place. Would she ever forget, could she, how often she had sat on the edge of her narrow, ricketty bed back there, staring at the faded wall paper, the bureau with the ragged- edged scarf that was never clean, the dingy, hopeless-looking marquisette curtains, and thought—of so much that she wanted to forget and could not? Determinedly Starr marched on and turned down Sixth Avenue to- ward the agencies. What else could she do? That was all that life had resolved itself into in the past weeks, making the rounds of them day after day, or hoping, desperately, that the next day a job would materialize or something happen to break her luck, the luck that had pursued her so long, now. The luck that had not been satisfied with taking her father from her, but finally had taken his last cent, too, until now his daughter —his doomed daughter!—was here alone in a strange town. She was trying to make a go of what was left of her own life, far from their friends in the home town where Starr had feared some of them might insist on helping her. That would have been the last straw. Charity! It was the same old story, and the afternoon had almost slipped by, with Starr feeling that her feet must be all blisters, when she reach- ed the place she always left to the last—the worst agency of them all.) Even in her desperation she hesitut- | ed in the dingy doorway, staring at the dirty arrow that pointed her way upward to the place from which she cringed. But taking her cour- age in her hands, steps and went into the dusty, half-| lighted room where the same inusavital blonde woman, with apparently the} Same mascara and heavy rouge she | had worn since the first day Starr| walking. Certainly there was noth-| tween set teeth. had seen her, sat behind the clutter- ed desk. The woman glanced up at| was a pleasant place; always inter-| good has it done? her and shook her head. | “Nothin’,” she said wearily, and then her shoulders shrugged. “Fraid you're wastin’ your time and mine| comin’ here, dearie. We—" | “But there must be something— surely!’ Starr burst out desperate- ly. “I told you I was a good secre- | REALLY KILL One pad kills flies all day and every day for 2 or 3 weeks. 3 pads in each packet. No spraying, no stickiness, no bad odor. Ask your Druggist, Grocery or General Store. 10 CENTS PER PACKET WHY PAY MORE? THE WILSON ELY PAD CO., Hamilton, Ont. ent type to those to whom she was accustomed, meant what she said. Starr’s pale face was flushed, eager. “Well, whyn't you say so, in the first place?” the woman asked, her tone a bit exasperated. “Here I been thinkin’ maybe you was a little too nice for our jobs, dearie, and—" “But I told you!” Starr cut in, and felt her body shiver at the cal- culating glance and the queer laugh of the agency woman. The latter lowered her voice to say: “You're a swell lookin’ skirt, at that, an’ say, baby, I got just the job. ; . Swell guy, but he’s plenty particular the kind we send him— Oh, you know, I reckon. . . You'd haye to be real sweet and nice to him, dearie, and—” ~ “Of course, I'd be nice!” Starr said | breathlessly, being—” The woman laughed again, her eyes crinkling in the rouged creases of her cheeks, then slowly drew to- ward her a card index box. “The fee,” she said, “will be a little steep, maybe, but y’ under- stand, a girl don’t get a chance at bein’ nice to big shots that'll maybe plaster her with jooels, do they like her, see, and five iron men are cheap at the price, see? But you got to be nice. er It was not so much the woman's words as her smirk. Suddenly Starr understood. She thought she was going to be sick. She didn’t know what to say. But the five dollars answered the question for her. “J—I haven’t that much with me,” she stammered, ‘I—I'll be back to- morrow.” ; “Okay, baby, an’ youll be gettin’ a bargain.” Starr didnt know how she got out of the place, nor how far she had walked in an effort to get away from “IT never thought of it until she saw the shrubbery of | Central Park looming up ahead. She} still felt nauseated. She, Starr Elli- son, must have fallen pretty low. To be offered a job like that! -She hadn't thought it possible. And yet—and yet. . What difference did it make, after all, except ‘that she still had pride enough to resent |the thought that she looked like a girl who would even for a minute consider anything of that kind? Still— What that agency woman had held out had offered her life, of a sort, and a chance to play. She hadn’t thought of it in that light, though. She wouki not. Just be- fore noon she had run across a man she felt sure, if she had given him the slightest chance, would have offered her a little chance to play. She had seen it in the eyes of that man before the Fifth Avenue show window. If she had waited just a minute more, the invitation would have been on his lips. But she had run away. Now she was offered, in- stead of a chance to play with a man of her own sort— She shivered at the thought and hurried on through the lower edge of the Park. She had no desire right now to see people of leisure driving by in their rich limousines. For the second time that day she found herself on Fifth Avenue, pres- ently, but it was far to the north of the shopping district. The high stone wall of the Park was on one side of her, the trees shading the sidewalk just turning into rich autumnal shades. Across the street, loomed tall sky scrapers where people lived in twenty-room apartments. Shin- ing cars sped by, arguing the right she climbed the} of way to the street with the top-| feet were rooted to the floor. heavy green busses. northward. There was no scheme in mind, only the desire She walked on Starr's to keep on ing better to do, and the Avenue esting. She had walked farther than she realized, and was almost opposite the Metropoltan Museum when she saw him. There was no mistaking him, the bronzed good looks of the man who had spoken to her that noon, the set surprise in his eyes the moment their eyes met over the heads of the scat- tered walkers and the cars between. Then he grinned, straight at her, and Starr caught her breath. He was slowing down! Stopping at the next corner! He would be coming back! How queer people could be, she thought in a breath. There, just a moment before, she had been regret- ting having run away from him, and right this minute there was no other thought in her mind but of doing the same thing again, Just why, she had no idea. She only knew that she must. On that single thought she had whirled as quickly as the car was brought almost to a stop. She sped up the steps of the Museum and into the safety of its maze of rooms, with a grateful sight at recognition of the fact that it was a free visiting day and the chains were down. She was wondering if he really would come to seek her out as she) wound her way through room after room, familiar with them all from many visits with her father. She smiled a little. Well, he would have a nice chase. But Michael Fairbourne was doing “These dont taste like YOUR Pickles, Mother !” Mother was disappointed! She - thought she had taken such care to have her mustard pickles just right. It was all the fault of that cheap mustard she had used, thinking to save a few cents. It is the pute mustard that gives pickles their flavour and zest. © Next time, mother will use KEEN’S D.S.F. MUSTARD. Made from seed grown in the Fens of England. Shells or hulls are removed and only the inner part of the seed is used. Superfine grind- ing ensures the full mustard flavour, Inoriginal tins for aslittleas 10¢ 732 no chasing. At the curb where he had pulled up for a moment, he sat still, glancing back. The girl was) nowhere in sight. It did not occur} | to him she could have gone into the) Museum. Nobody he had ever| known ever had. His brow was) | wrinkled thoughtfully as he chewed }on his lips for a moment, rumina- tively. He took off his hat and ran his fingers through his thick hair. _ “Umm, that's funny. Almost like a hunch, but I’m not going chas- ing after her. If I see that girl just one more time, though, I’m going to take a shot in the dark. . . Just the type—just the type.” As his foot pressed the starter and his car shot ahead, he was grimacing. “And if I do, here’s hoping she’s an orphan—complete!” \ CHAPTER I. The treasures or by-gone days Were no mystery to Starr Ellison. She had been raised on them. In the days when fortune had smiled on the Ellison family, her father had been a collector of note. In many ys their home, now in the hands of} strangers, had been like a miniature} museum. Egypt, though — Starr| shuddered when she thought of it— and all things Egyptian, had been his hobby. A love which had eventually led him to his death; had led his only daughter to her imminent death | and a distressing poverty to precede | it. Ever since she could remember, | Starr had been familiar with Egyp- tian kings and queens and princesses. , As a child they had fascinated her, | and she had made up her own stories about the lovely almond-eyed beings of a by-gone day who filled her | father’s cherished books and smiled at her with their long eyes from his paintings, his vases and bas-reliefs— lovely cloudily-swathed beings whose | limbs were sinuous and whose eyes | held mystery. As Starr’s own eyes held mystery, so she had been told.| | Often she had wondered if the Prox- | imity to those pictured and sculp-} | tured women of another day could} | have had anything to do with her {own eyes. With all she now had | learned—in bitterness—she prayed and hoped not. | She had no objective in her stroll} through the Museum, realizing that} she could not remain long, that it} soon would be closing time. It did not matter. She would merely walk | around, look at a few sculptures, per- haps distract her mind from her woes. She could not have told how it | was, certainly by no intention of her own, but before she realized it, she} was in the very centre of the Egyp-} tian room, the one place in all that) vast storehouse of art and exhibition | ot all-age culture which she wished | | | | drawn here, almost, it seemed, as if} | by some invisible magnet. Her first horrified recognition of °7 street vendors and its colors; dark men in floating dresses and spangled veils, hurrying along while their heavy sil- ver ankles | familiar figures on wall and in cases made her want to run. Oddly her Her teeth clenched as a rush of emotion | all but overcame her, and then her| | will power came to the fore. KEEN'’S °** Mustard stared. That priestess on the tall centre vase—She was like—like— Suddenly the room in which she sat, the paintings and vases and bas- reliefs and murals all faded and she was back, back with the living hor- ror which even now tortured her, turned her dreams into nightmares. That smell—that odor of a centuries- sealed tomb, a desecrated tomb—was in her nostrils again. Like nothing she had ever known before or since. The awful, dank, musty, smothering smell of a tomb which had been sealed for nearly three thousand years. A veritable palace of the dead! In a great, deep silence that could almost be heard! That trip to Egypt was to have made her father famous. Through all the expeditions that had occu- pied the man who was becoming known as an archeologist none had held for him any of the importance of this particular journey which had been planned for years. He and John Lessing, both intense students of Egyptian history and Egyptology in all its aspects, had planned with deep intensity for this one special trip. With one great objective in mind. It was inevitable that Starr went along. She always had. She was of great help to her father who, like so many students, was inclined to be absent-minded, or single-purposed, and though he would work painstak- ingly at his books, he too often would neglect taking his notes on the spot, trusting to a memory not infallible. Star kept his notes, tabu- lated all his findings. Their objective was the secret tomb of Tut-Amen-Ra, whose forbid- den love for Ama-Suh, beautiful temple vifgin, had incurred the wrath of the high priests. Contrary to the opinion of most historians, Professor Ellison believed that the ancient lovers were buried together. To prove that he was right was the one ambition of his life. Naturally there was a long period of hard work, as there always is for such expeditions, and it was during those times, as well as from her earlier observations that Starr had some of the most marvelous experi- ences of her life. She had been so sure that she, too, had come to love Egypt, all that was connected with it; realized her great zest for life, the eagerness to inhale the perfume of that strange land that Egypt and the desert can bring—that land where the days were a panorama of color and the dusk descended like a black-out on a moyie screen, with always somewhere, though heard but dimly, the voice of a muezzin from the balcony of a minaret where he to avoid. And yet she had been) faced the east: “La il aha illa Allah!” Every scene was painted indelibly her memory. Cairo, with its in their tarbushes; women ornaments jingled on _ their and their mysterious eyes | “I won't run away!” she said be-| looked out above their veils—somber “I won't! That's what Ive been doing too long. What No! ready done all they-can do to me:. . I'll stay! Right here! I'll sit down and stare them all out of counten- ance, every Egyptian princess! Tu! | show them that at least I’m not— afraid!” | To Starr, as she sat down on a stone bench, grimly setting her tary—I am!—but I'll do anything.| of his dark head on his wide shoul-| teeth, the bas-relief figures and the Anything!" ders, and the careless almost disin-| paintings of the Egyptian women The woman's rouged lips were| terested way, certain of his own) with the long eyes and their queer smiling oddly as she glanced up at} masterfulness, with which he drove| headdress did not seem like repre- the girl, that glance calculating, as} his maroon roadster. }sentations. They seemed real. One if wondering just how much this well He saw her at almost the exact in particular. . She clenched her near the window—a substantial meal, ' dressed girl, of so obviously a differ-' moment she saw him. There was! hands, wet inside her gloves, as she’ eyes, and hands with bright red nails which They've al-| Street sellers, some of them as clutched their garments. in- credibly old as the scarabs they sold, with wrinkled faces like warped leather. And the walks along the native streets in Cairo and later in Luxor and some of the smaller towns through which they passed— Walking past long rows of houses whose continuity was here and there broken by a mosque—houses and dimly lit cafes full of shrill life. Where veiled women hung over the balconies to watch the strangers who sought out the street of the sand diviner. (To Be Continued) 2162