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12-16-33 (I)

PASSENGERSPublished by Special Arrangement With

THE CHICAGO TRIBUNECopyright: 1933: By Ethel Lana White

(IN TWO PARTS—PART OW

THE EXCITING TALE OF AN OR-PHANED ENGLISH 61 B L, B E -TURNING FROM HER HOLIDAYSIN ITALY, WHO FINDS MYSTERY.MURDER — AND LOVE — IN ASINGLE TRAIN JOURNEY.

Just before the blow fell Ednafelt unusually well and happy. Herholiday was over, her bill at the hotelwas paid, and her suitcase lay on thestntion platform. For over an hourshe had sat—the sun beating downon her uncovered head—feasting hereyes on the scenery.Before her was a grass-green lake,

sparkling with diamond reflections andbacked with white spiked mountains.She had just spent a glorious three

weeks rambling the mountains in con-genial Anglo-American society, and itseemed strangely civilized to be wear-ing a skirt and silk stockings againafter shorts and nailed boots. The restof the crowd had returned yesterday,but she had chosen to stay one daylonger, alone.She was sorry to be leaving, partly

because she was not going home, butmerely "back." At these times she feltshe paid a heavy price for her freedomas an attractive orphan of twenty-twowith no relatives, clumps of friends,and a private Income.Suddenly the sun struck her. Owing

to the altitude, the air was cool andbracing so that she had not realizedthe fierceness of its rays. She felt aviolent pain at the back of her neck,followed by a rush of sick dizziness.As the white capped mountains dark-ened and rocked she had a ghastlymoment of panic."I'm going to be ill—alone—amongst

strangerS."Then everything slipped away .

When she opened her eyes she was inthe cool gloom of the primitive littlewaiting room, while a black pinaforedwoman held a glass of raw spirit toher lips. People stared at her cur-iously and spoke to her, but she couldnot understand a word.Luckily, she soon felt better and was

able to reward her Good Samaritans.But, after they had left her, she hadanother bad minute when she wonderedif she had been robbed while she wasunconscious. Examination of her, bag,however, proved that her tickets, Pass-port, and money were untouched.She was now in a fever of impat-

ience to get away, for her experiencehad unnerved her. It had made herrealize, for the first time in her life,the horror of helplessness far awayfrom familiar things.Suddenly the signal fell and a coil

of smoke whirled around the bend ofthe rails. With a whistle and a roarthe engine steamed into the little sta-tion.

The porter had difficulty in findinga place for Edna, for, although herseat was reserved, the carriage alreadyheld its quota of six. He appeared tobe abjectly apologetic to a majesticlady in deep black, who plainly resent-ed the newcomer.The whistle shrilled and the engine

began to throb slowly on its way backto England. Except the frontiers, therewas only one stop—Milan—before Basle,where Edna changed into the Calaisexpress.A family party—two large parents

and a daughter of about twelve—sat onthe same side of the carriage as her-self. Opposite was a fair and beautifulgirl in black and white, who appearedto have modeled herself on a film star,a typical British spinster, and the ladywho had opposed her intrusion.

Veiled and draped in heavy black.she was an overwhelming and formid-able personality—essentially of the ntl-ing class—with an arrogant beaked noseand fierce proud eyes.Presently the majestic lady received

a visitor—a pallid man with dead eyes,a black spade beard and glasses. Asthey carried on a low conversationEdna was amused to notice that theBritish spinster was straining her ear.,to listen. She also remarked that theblack clad lady looked in her directionas though in annoyance and made alow observation to her companion.Sensing their hostility she closed her

eyes and only knew when the man hadleft the compartment by the absence ofthe gutteral whispers. The motion rock-ed her to a light sleep.Her torpid trance was broken by an

official who poked his head throughthe door and shouted something towhich the company, in general, was un-responsive. The British spinster, how-ever, tapped Edna on the arm."You're English, aren't you?" she

asked in a crisp pleasant voice, "Tea isready In the restaurant car. Coming?"Edna's head was aching badly, so

that she was glad to follow her guideinto the corridor. As they passed thenext compartment to theirs they sawthrough the door a figure, covered withrugs, stretched out on one seat. Bothhead and forehead were bandaged,while a criss-cross of plaster stripsconcealed the features from brow tochin in a diagonal line.The invalid was in charge of the pal-

lid black bearded man, who had Justvisited their carriage, and a nursingsister, who was dressed like a nun. Herface was hard and repellant, with abrutal mouth, so that it was difficultto connect her with the profession ofnursing."How ghastly to be ill on a journey,"

shuddered Edna with a memory of herrecent attack.

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By Ethel Lina White Her companion was able to tell her

all about the invalid, for she waft thetype that collects information."Yes, a motor smash higher up the

valley. Her face is terribly cut, poorthing, and there's head injury, so they-'re rushing her to Milan for an oper-ation. The doctor was telling the bar-oness about it just now."She shouted the information over her

shoulder as she led the way down thecorridors, across the clanking connec-tions, and into the crowded restaurantcar. Wedging herself into a corner,she looked blissfully at the smuttytablecloth, the thin flakes of butter,and the cherry jam."Isn't this fun?" she cried.

The lady was nondescript—beingmiddle aged, dowdy, and vaguely oat-meal in coloring; yet there was asparkle in her faded blue eyes whichsuggested youth.

I Edna learned that her compatriotwas a Miss Winifred Bird, who hadbeen English governess to a titled fain-tly for two years and was now pinghome on her first holiday. To her Sir-prise this adult lady actually posseepedliving parents."Mummy and daddy say they can talk

of nothing else but my return," MINBird told her. "They're excited aschildren and so is Ruff. He's an OldEnglish sheepdog, and so devoted to

I Inc. He understands I'm coming home,' but not when, so he meets every train.Mummy says he always comes backwith his tail down, the picture of de-pression. They're both imagining hisfrantic joy the night I do come. Andthat's tomorrow."

! Edna felt quite a lump in her throatat the thought of the reunion. It was

I the dog that really won her, for shegot a clear picture of him—a shaggymongrel, absurdly clownish, with am-ber eyes beaming under his wisps.But she grew rather to like the old

parents, too. Daddy was a parson-schoolmaster, who, when he retired atthe age of sixty-five, began to learnHebrew as a light holiday pastime."Are you going back after your hol-

iday?" Edna asked."Yes, but not to Try post," Miss Bird

looked around her and then lowered hervoice. "I'm coming back to give evidencein a murder trial. I'll mention nonames, but I was governess to the veryhighest in the place. You've no ideaof his power. What he says goes, andhe hasn't got to speak, for a wink isenough. But, although he rules ab-solutely, there's a small communist ele-ment in the town and their leader—ayoung man—accused the—my employer—of corruption. I'm afraid it was true.There was an awful scene at the castleand the—my employer—shot the youngman. I sate it all.""You've really seen a man killed?"

gasped Edna. "How terrible.""Terrible at the time, my dear, but

afterwards it all turned to a thrillingadventure. Life's so interesting be-catase things are always happening.Every one wanted to hush it up and:say it was suicide. But of course, I hadto insist on being heard for the sake of ;justice. You've no idea how unpopularI was. The children threw stones atme in the street and the shop peoplerefused to serve me. Even the policewere quite angry with me. And I'msure the muddle about my seat was in-tentional.""What muddle?" asked Edna."I booked my seat second class, but,

when I got to the train they said myplace was already taken. But the bar-oness was kind and said I was to travel'first' with her and she would make tright about my ticket. I felt awkwardas she's related to the—my employer:'Edna gathered that the autocratic

lady in black was the baroness andthat she had annexed her own reser-

vation for Miss Bird. By this time,however, she was growing tired of MissBird's confidence. After they hadblundered back to their compartmentshe felt she must make a bid for silence."Do you mind if I don't talk?" she

asked. "My head is nearly splittin!..I've just had a touch of sunstroke."As she knew Miss Bird's curiosity

had to be appeased, she gave a briefaccount of her attack. While she didso she had the feeling that the baron-ess was listening to her story with con-cealed interest.Miss Bird kindly supplied aspirin,

Which made Edna feel pleasantlydrowsy.Down, down. She drifted into sleep.

Suddenly she gave a violent start andher heart began to leap as though shehad just stepped into vacancy. Openingher eyes, she stared around her con-fusedly.Miss Bird had disappeared.

She was astonished by her own pangof sudden loneliness. The baronessslept in her corner. As her nerves werestill on edge, Edna had a nightmareimpression that these people were notreally human but a set of dummies.The family party read different sec-

tions of the same newspaper. Thefather was big, polished and cleanshaven, even to his head. The motherhad a straight fringe and her eyebrowsappeared to be corked. The girl worebabyish socks, but her expression wasadult.As they remained dumb and motion-

less as waxworks, Edna glanced at thebeautiful blonde, only to be reminded ofa model in a shop window.Common sense told Edna that Miss

Bird had probably gone to wash andwould be back. She looked at her watchto time her absence. In five minutesshe would be surely back, with herwarm humanity, her curiosity, and herstories about family and borne.Five minutes passed, then ten, then

fifteen. Still Miss Bird did not comeback. When, after twenty minutes hadpassed, Edna chanced to look up at therack, she received a nasty shock.Miss Bird's suitcase was not there.She could restrain her uneasiness no

longer. As the baroness still slept, sheappealed to the other passengers. Shewas probably the world's worst linguist,but she made a brave effort in threeof the languages of civilization ."Ou est la dame?""Wo 1st die dame?""Where is the lady?"She eked out her inquiries with pan-

tomine, pointing to Miss Bird's emptyplace, while she raised her brows in ex-aggerated inquiry. But the passengersmerely shrugged and shook their headsto show her that they did not under-stand.Since no sign of intelligence gleamed

on their blank faces, Edna decided tofind out whether Miss Bird had chang-ed her seat. But it seemed unlikely,in view of the fact that the train wasso full, and she felt acutely worried asshe worked her way down the shakingcorridor—clinging to the rail, pushingpast loiterers, and staring into everycompartment.Her quest reminded her of the hunt

for the proverbial needle in the hay-stack. Although she visited every por-tion of the long train, including bothrestaurant cars—where men weresmoking and drinking—she could findno trace of Miss Bird. With a leadensense of apprehension she returned toher own compartment.The baroness still slept. Suddenly

desperate, Edna leaned forward andshook her awake. As she did so, sheheard a smoothered gasp from theother passengers, as though she hadcommitted some act of sacrilege.The baroness opened her proud eyes

in a glare of outraged majesty. But

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Edna was too overwrought to apologize."Where is the English lady?" she

cried."What English lady?" asked the

baroness, speaking without a trace ofaccent."Miss Bird. The one who sat here.""I do not understand. That seat has

not been occupied, ever."Edna's head began to reel."Yes, yes," she insisted. "I talked to

her. We had tea together.""No." The baroness shook her head

and spoke with slow emphasis. "Youmake a strange mistake. There has beenno English lady here except you, your-self."

Feeling as though she was trappedin some bad dream, Edna sank weaklydown in her seat, while the train rockedon its way, back to England. Slides oftwilight scenery streamed past thewindow, but she saw only a rush ofchaos.Either they're all mad, or I'm mad,

she thought. No Miss Bird? Did Idream her? No, she was as real asme, with her old parents and Ruff . . .0, heavens! it's ghastly to be so help-less. I must think.Presently she sprang to her feet in a

burst of nervous futility."I must do something."Scarcely conscious of her actions,

Edna began to make a second searchthrough the train. But, this time, shewas aware that she was an object ofcurosity and amusement. In every car-riage was a blur of faces.As she entered the first 'class restaur-

ant car she thought she heard an Ox-ford accent. Unable to locate it shemade a general appeal."Please. Is there any one English

here?" 1

The spectacle of a pretty girl in dis-tress brought two men to their feet,although one of them appeared to re-gard chivalry merely as a duty. Hewas tall, thin, and of academic appear-ance, which, in his case, was not de-ceptive, since he was a university pro-fessor of modern languages.The other was younger and rather

untidy, with rough hair and audaciousblue eyes."An English lady, Miss Bird, has dis-

appeared on the train." Edna declar-ed, her voice shaking as she spoke."They say—but that's absurd. I'mfrightened by it all. Something'swrong—and I can't speak their miser-able language—and—"As her voice failed, she was con

scions of a tall gray man, bald as avulture, who stared at her with pierc-ing eyes as though she was somethingon a microscope slide."Could you pull yourself together and

make a concise statement?" asked theprofessor.The chill in his voice was tonic to

her nerves, bracing her to compress thesituation into a few words. To heroverwhelming relief the professor wasImpressed, for he looked grave."This must certainly be investigated,"

he said. "Will you show me whereyour compartment is?"The frivolous youth joined them and,

somehow, managed to infect Edna witha sense of comradeship as they foughttheir way through the crowded corri-dor."My name's Carr," he said. "Much too

,long for you to remember. Better callI me 'John Michael Peter,' like everyone else. I'm an engineer and speakthe lingo, too. Look on me as a secondstring."Strong in the support of her com-

patriots, Edna felt certain of a happyissue as she entered her own compart-ment. The baroness was talking to thedoctor, who was paying her anothervisit, but she listened, with gracious

j condescension, to the professor's state-ment.He appeared to be in his element as

j he held his official inquiry and ques-tioned the passengers, in turn. Shelooked up at him with a smile and was

I unpleasantly surprised by his unre-sponsive face. Although she could notunderstand the language, it was easyto follow the proceedings by the nega-tive shake of each person's head.By degrees, her confidence began to

cloud. The ticket collector was calledinto the carriage to add his contribu-tion to the general confusion and noise.She glanced at Carr, but he only pulleddown his mouth in a grimace.Her heart sank and her head began

Ito swim. It was inconceivable that allthese people should lie—yet they ap-peared to be denying the existence of

I Miss Bird.Presently the professor spoke to her

coldly."You appear to have made a most

extraordinary mistake. No one in thiscarriage—including the ticket collector—knows anything about the lady yousay is missing.""Are you telling me I invented her?"

asked Edna wildly. "We had tea to-gether.""Then, will you describe her so that

I can interview the tea waiters?"To her horror, Edna remembered that

she had barely glanced at Miss Bird.Most of the time she had kept her eyesclosed because of her blinding head-ache."I'm afraid I can't tell you much,"

She faltered. "There was nothing about

her to catch hold of. She's middle ac-ed, and ordinary, and rather colorless.'"Surely you know if she is tall or

short, dark or fair?""No. But I remember she had blua

eyes."

"What did she wear?" asked Carrwith a flash of intuition."Tweed, I think. I didn't notice much

because I've such a splitting headache.""Exactly." The professor's tone was

dry. "Cause and effect. The doctor tellsme you've just had a sun stroke."Suddenly Edna saw her chance to

convince him."How does the doctor know that?"

she asked. "I only told that to MissBird . How could I tell any one elsewhen I only speak English?"The professor seemed impressed, for

he took off his glasses to polish them.But, as the doctor began to speak rap-idly his expression hardened to itsformer fixity."It appears you were taken ill on the

station platform. The baroness wasthere and she told the doctor.""It explains all," said the doctor,

speaking English with a grating accent."Your sunstroke has given you a de-lirium—a delusion. You went to sleepand you dreamed. Your Miss Bird Isonly your dream."

(To Be Continued)

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