The Crimson Thread: An Adventure Story for Girls

nusual responsibilities that were crowding in upon her that day, Lucile took her Monday morning train with the quiet com

il which many would call drudgery. From eight-thirty until ten there were few customers. Every moment was taken up. Two truckloads of books had come down from the apparently inexhaust

re and more impressed with what Laurie had said about this group of loyal fr

sfolk," she told herself with a little

standard sets; in the second was the dignified one who murmured in low, church-like tones of prayer books and rosaries; while in the farthest, deepest alcove of all was dear old Morrison, the young-old man with premature gray hair and a stoop. But his lustrous eyes were lighted with an earnes

stmas Eve when she must bid them all farewell and return to her studies. Never before had she been so tempted to relinq

sing of each hour the great and startling e

urried from the store. There was yet three-quarters of an hour to spend. She woul

arble stairway. At last she came to a place where a great circular leather cushioned seat in the center of a room offered opportunity for perfect repose. There she sank down, t

, and a girl with a shawl thrown over her shoulders, coming down the well cleaned path. Very simple people these, but happy and kind. There were sparrows perched along

e sun rising from the dripping dewy green and a girl reaper going

to Lucile's half hour of leisure and helped prep

ith the color the frosty out-of-doors had given them. Cheeks offset by dark, deep-set eyes, made darker still by eyelashes that were like hemlocks in a snow covered valley, and a smooth oval forehead backed by a wealth of short, wavy hair. This was the picture; only faintly ske

herself. "Her clothes show that. But how sta

nd day. I wonder if she is? She seems alone. It's not to be wondered at, their guarding those pictures. Who would not like one for his room? Who would not love to open his eyes each morning upon the girl

im, young man whose features might have been carved from marble, and in whose eyes Lucile had

picture suddenly wavered where she stood. Her face went white, then w

had happened. Having traveled far in the intense cold, the girl had been overcome by the heavy

people sprang to her assistance. But the young man, h

iet, even tone, "she's my sister. I'll

s girl in his arms, he

not all right!" Lucile f

she was gripping a burly guard by the arm

not her brother. He-he's

ard believed her. With three stride

who is accustomed to be obeyed. "It won

r in his cold, hard eyes. "All right, if you know so much. Fetch some water and get her out of it. She

why would he consent so readily to the delay, which must mean proof one way or another? She was soon to see. Tremblingly, she awaited the outcome. Drop

icy cold on the other's forehead. Almost instantly the eyes opened and the

" she asked. "Wh

e Art Museum.

" There was ter

hing." Lucile put a steadying arm about he

ers?" grumbled the guard. "He's

echoed

in astonishment. "I hav

int. She had been right, dreadfully right. She had saved this gi

sat there in silence. At last, with a supr

he two," said the guard,

t," she prote

e if you wish. Our store's only two blocks away. There's a rest room. You'll b

said the other, clingi

to right and left, Lucile caught no sign of the volunteer brot

* *

led up in her big chair that night for a fe

self, telling them off like beads on a rosary, "there comes the beautiful mystery woman and the cape she

he bed. There, lying wrapped in slumber, was t

en awake," Lucile murmured. "And such a str

any guess at her hidden secrets, was based on observation and conjectur

len a moment from work to look in upon her, the girl had appeared to be day-dreaming. Far from being worried about events of t

upon helping her new-found friend to put her tables to rights. She had accepted Lucile's invitation to p

in the same manner she had accep

ving produced a dollar bill from somewhere on her perso

try to keep up an appearance even though she is shabby underneath. But look at her; a countrified suit of shiny blue serge, two

ile would have sworn to that. With the lights turned out, and with the tingling winter air entering the open window,

ck of knowledge of the exercises, she often blundered. But she could whirl more quickly, leap higher and

l that, and she has not told me one word about herself. For a country girl she certainly has her full su

that while living in the yacht in dry dock she had two companions-Florence and Marion. Florence had gone home. Marion was in Alaska. Now Luc

aced her slippers beneath the bed and drew

wakened by the girl, who was e

l but screamed as she threw out her ar

r tight until the dream had passed and she