by Thomas Dixon
CHAPTER XV
CLEO'S SILENCE
For two weeks the wife held her own and the doctor grew more confident eachday. When Norton began to feel sure the big danger was past his mind becamealert once more to the existence of Cleo. He began to wonder why she hadnot made an effort to see or communicate with him.
She had apparently vanished from the face of the earth. In spite of hiseffort to minimize the importance of this fact, her silence gradually grewin sinister significance. What did it mean? What was her active brain andvital personality up to? That it boded no good to his life and the life ofthose he loved he couldn't doubt for a moment. He sent a reporter on asecret mission to Peeler's house to find if she were there.
He returned in three hours and made his report.
"She's at Peeler's, sir," the young man said with a smile.
"You allowed no one to learn the real reason of your visit, as I told you?"
"They never dreamed it. I interviewed old Peeler on the revolution inpolitics and its effects on the poor whites of the state----"
"You saw her?"
"She seemed to be all over the place at the same time, singing, laughingand perfectly happy."
"Run your interview to-morrow, and keep this visit a profound secretbetween us."
"Yes, sir."
The reporter tipped his hat and was gone. Why she was apparently happy andcontented in surroundings she had grown to loathe was another puzzle.Through every hour of the day, down in the subconscious part of his mind,he was at work on this surprising fact. The longer he thought of it theless he understood it. That she would ever content herself with the drearyexistence of old Peeler's farm after her experiences in the town and in hishome was preposterous.
That she was smiling and happy under such conditions was uncanny, and thepicture of her shining teeth and the sound of her deep voice singing as shewalked through the cheap, sordid surroundings of that drab farmhousehaunted his mind with strange fear.
She was getting ready to strike him in the dark. Just how the blow wouldfall he couldn't guess.
The most obvious thing for her to do would be to carry her story to hispolitical enemies and end his career at a stroke. Yet somehow, for the lifeof him he couldn't picture her choosing that method of revenge. She had notleft him in a temper. The rage and curses had all been his. She had neverfor a moment lost her self-control. The last picture that burned into hissoul was the curious smile with which she had spoken her parting words:
"But I'll see you again!"
Beyond a doubt some clean-cut plan of action was in her mind when sheuttered that sentence. The one question now was--"what did she mean?"
There was one thought that kept popping into his head, but it was toohideous for a moment's belief. He stamped on it as he would a snake andhurried on to other possibilities. There was but one thing he could do andthat was to await with increasing dread her first move.
