Phyllis by Maria Thompson Daviess
page 70 of 160 (43%)
page 70 of 160 (43%)
![]() | ![]() |
|
here on the hook in the left-hand bookcase," and she reached behind
her, took it, and showed it to him. "I know Lovey hasn't been there either, because we can trust him on honor. Oh, what is the matter?" As Roxanne asked the question she was trembling all over, but not in the deadly cold way I was, I felt sure. She couldn't have stood it and lived. "Some one has been in the shed, taken samples of all my material, including the steel shavings that came from the last melting, and my notebook is gone. The process is stolen, Roxy, and all the sacrifices gone for nothing. I don't care for myself--but--you." His head was up in the same old portrait pose, but his arms trembled as he held them out to Roxanne. I stood still and cold and never said one word, but a pain hit into my heart that I didn't know I was strong enough to stand and still live. "When did you find it out?" I asked; and I was surprised at the cool note that sounded in my voice and made it like Father's when he talks business. "Just now," he answered me over Roxanne's head that was buried on his shoulder. "I stopped down-town to help Judge Luttrell with a brief that he was writing and came home only a few minutes ago. The thief was in the shed between the time I went on the hay ride and now. I was in the shed just before I started." I don't know how I said good-night to them; but I did the best I could, and came home through the moonlight with a great heaviness of heart and feet. I dreaded to see Father, and yet longed for him in a |
|