The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1884-11-15

TTIUM ms IlIIU TFIUsGW 10 EIVG IUTIW ms sUUTUI.
Whether or not it acts under such circumstances
l do not know. l felt nothing then, and gave up
trying, while ne continued to mutter, over and
over again, that one mysterious word, Guilty.!
Guilty.
The cry haunted me; the secret, for secret
there must have been, preyed upon me, and
gave me food for thought through the long hours
l watched away at DR.. WHY'S side.
Guilty Of what! Who was guiltyl
My patient sank rapidly, and a few friends
gathered around the bed to see him breathe his
last.
Though still delirious, he was grown too weak
to make shat cry, and was silently, uncon-
sciously passing away. Suddenly he turned his
eyes upon us, began to speak nationally, calling
his friends 10y name, and babe them cood-by.
Raising his weak frame from the pillow, he once
more cried, 'Guilty!' and was about to speak
something, when the door opened and the stran-
ger | had first met at his bedside hastily entered
the room.
Advancing to the dying man he grasped him
by the hand and looked him steadily in the eye.
| have never seen a more determined look.
The other quailed beneath it and sank back,
silent.
Springing to his side, I placed my hand against
his forehead, and then, as life ebbed away, L
read the thought his lips dare not utter. None
present, except my uncle, knew my gift, and no
notice was taken of my rather strange action.
All had heard the cry of the dying doctor, all
wondered, but learned no more.
Many a winters evening did uncle and l pass
UO86Un6r studying over the puzzle lndu SuduCneu
almost from the grave, but the mystery would
not be solved, and at last we gave up trying to
unravel it and sought other amusement.
He came home one day greatly agitated, and
called for the piece OF paper upon which mad
written the dying thought of DR.. WHY. 1t read
as follows:
HE is not guilty. I am guilty. Rawdon urged
me to it and l prepared the -"
Here death had interfered.
Now the name of Rawdon had never been
known, as far as we could learn, in Kingston,
and in all our search for the solution of the
enigma we had not run across ony one bearing
it. When, therefore,, uncle came home reading
the story of the murder of Judge Lowry and the
conviction of Jos. Guyton flor it seems that the
day of the hanging had drawn near, and the
daily journals. as is customary with them, had
seen fit to remind the public of the approaching
event by a rehash of the story from beginning
to end, with spread heads in display type his
eye had lighted upon the name of Jesse K. Raw
don, of W, who was mentioned as the heir
to the large estates of Judge Lowry.
Hence mis- agitation. All personal matters
were dropped; he dived once more into the case
of poor Guyton, of whose innoeense he was now
assured, detectives were employed, new clews
unearthed and the mystery began to clear up,
leaving Mr.. Jesse K. Rawdon exposed to our
view in a manner that would have astonished
that gentleman had he known in what sense we
esteemed him.
Uncle paid a visit to W and brought
back a photograph Of Mr.. Rawdon, in which |
linn eQldUelV EpCOSulIFu JU6 llheu6SS OIL lH6
stranger whom 1 supplanted as nurse to DR..
WHY, and who later acted in such a peculiar
manner at his death bed.
When the heir came up to Kingston to settle
some matter of the estate, to his own astonish-
ment and to the Indignation of the townspeOple,
who felt honored at having so distinguished a
visitor register at the Kingston Hotel he was ar
rested on the charge of murder. His amazement
knew no bounds, but his protestations availed
him nothing in the face of the mass of evidence
against MIN, and he was brought to trial.
| shall omit the particulars of his trial. Suffice
it to say he employed the best of counsel, and
Notwithstanding the strongest circumstantial
evidence, the sympathy of the community re-
manned with him as well as that of the jury,
which l could not fail to observe, and it began to
look as if he would be acquitted.
I was called to the witness stand, and, re
spending to questions by writing my answers on
a blackboard, from which the clerk read them
aloud to the court, told all | knew about DR..
WHY'S illness and death. My statement of the
last thought of the dying man (which L made
without explanatory created a profound sensa-
ton, and the prisoner, when he heard it, gasped
and would have fallen but for the arms of an
officer. When my uncle, in a short speech. ex-
planned how 1 had come by that discovery, there
was a litter in the court room, and some Of the
jurors smiled incredulously.
l sprang down from the stand, and running
quickly to the prisoner, who by this time had
regained his composure at sight of the cold
reception of my statement, laid my hand against
MS IOrenedQ-OI course II was Il lOOllSn dCl-dS
if 1 might surprise his thought. All that I got
for my pains was rough jerk from the guard,
but not, however, before l had read this in
Rawdon's mind:
Curse you! | won't think; if I do I am lost
| won't think. All. you scoundrel, you're not as
smart as you think you are! | won't think"
l returned to the stand and wrote upon the
blackboard those words, and the clerk read
them. The prisoner seemed to lose his entire
self control at hearing them, and when the seve-
raj friends who were around DR.. WHY'S death
bed testified with regard to Rawdon' strange
behavior, and also the sick mans cutlery of
Guilty" the miserable man seemed to feel that
hope was nearly dead. He stared helplessiy
around till his eye fell upon poor Guyton, who
was being brought in, and gazing for a moment
upon the shattered form of the once strong man,
he sank down in agony and covered his face with
his hands.
L crept noiselessly up behind him and pressed
my hand tightly against his forehead He was
too wretched to notice it, and this is what he was
thinking:
''Great God, he is innocent, innocent, and l
am lost Shall 1 contest His evidence will
convict me, and hen-and then. Yes, I'll tell
all and plead for mercy. No; they won't be-
lieve him; he may know nothing. Yes, let him
go on. There is still hope"
What a struggle there was in his mind, and
still he hoped on.
Again l went to the blackboard; again the
voice of the clerk was heard throughout the
courtroom, and Rawdon, as ne listened to the
revelation of his own wicked thought, sprang up
with a fearful cry. Crushed under the sense of
his guilt, weighed down by wrongs to an inno-
cent man, tortured by the pricks of q long
smothered conscience, goaded to desperation by
the exposure of his secret resolve by a deaf
mute, the wretch, in his terrible agony, con-
fessed himself the murderer of Judge Lowry.
And DR.. WHY was his accomplice!
HO TUH ~