The Worthington advance. [volume] (Worthington, Minn.) 1874-1908, 1885-11-05


against your forehead and define your
inmost thought as plainly as if you
spoke it to my face or upon my hand.
You doubt this? Very we'll.
Judge Lowry was foully murdered
on the night of May Goth, l8-. Being
a wealthy old bachelor, there could be
no doubt in Kingston that he had been
murdered for his gold, and, and the
inhabitants of the little town were
nearly paralyzed accordingly.
The best of detective work failed to
discover the murderer; string after
string of circumstantial evidence was
collected, all pointing to some one, but
who, no one could find. Narrowing
stories on the crime were published in
the daily papers, and my feelings were
much wrought up by reading
them, and the town was
kept in a ferment over new clews
as fast as old ones were unthreaded
and traced to a fruitless source. Sus-
picion had to light upon some one, and
in this case, finally, after days of vain
searching, poor Jos Guyton, harmless
young man whose only sin was power
ty, and whose only friend, widowed
mother, became its victim. He was
arrested, tried, convicted and sentenced
to be hung. l never knew upon what
grounds. His only defense was his
plea of not guilty. The blow broke his
mother heart.
Business thrived in Kingston, and in
month or six weeks the murderer and
murdered were forgotten by the lively
little town. Uncle was among the few
who did not forget poor Guvton. Firm
ly convinced of his innocence, he used
every measure at his command to find
the guilty man; he employed detectives
left unturned; but it all availed to
nothing.
About this time was called to the
bedside of an old friend of our little
family, who had fallen suddenly ill.,
Uncle accompanied me to his house
and into his sick-room. where we found
him in a restless slumber, with strang-
er leaning over him. The latter rose,
and coming quickly forward, spoke a
few words to my companion, which l
did not pretend to comprehend until he
motioned towards me as if / were the
subject under discussion; then noticed
his peculiar manner and slyly watched
his lips. He was saying the sick man
was his dear friend, that he had been
nursing him for several days, but being
suddenly called away On pressing mat
ters of business had taken the liberty
of sending for me to take his place at
DIR. WHY'S bedside. He had heard of
my condition: the doctor was given to
crying aloud in his sleep; in his de-
lirium said strange things which it were
best should not be heard, and as could
not hear, should suffer no annoyance.
saw at once that the man was
ignorant of my powers of hearing and
seeing, and l was about to request
uncle by signs to correct him on this
point, when he checked me by a wave
of his hand. He told the stranger
would gladly act as nurse to his old
friend, the doctor, aud so I was duly
installed.
My duties were simple enough, and
passed most of my time in reading.
My patient seemed on the mend; there
were no outcries in his sleep. and he
was no longer delirious, though l
could not fail to see that he was still
a very sick man. A reaction came,
however, and one night he became so
wild as thoroughly to alarm me. 1
could see by the action of his lips that
he was making some cutlery, and lest
he should arouse the neighbors, closed
the doors and windows. He seemed
to utter only one word, word that
had not been used to in ordinary home
conversation, and as he did not speak
distinctly, but mouthed it, I was slow
in catching it till my hand was brought
into service, and then heard him say,
''Guilty!'' He repeated the word at
short intervals, his lips working con-
vulsively, as if trying to complete some
sentence between, but l could detect
nothing more.
AS he muttered and tossed on his
bed laid my hand against his fore
head to read, if possible, the thought
he failed to express. But in his de-
lirium his mind refused to give forth
his secret. Whether or not it acts
under such circumstances l do not
know. felt nothing then, and gave
up trying, while he continued to mutter,
over and over again, that one mysteri-
Gus word, "Guiltv!'' "Guilty!'
The cry haunted me; the secret, for
secret there must have been, preyed
upon me and gave me food for thou ht
through the long hours 1 watched away
at DR.. WHY'S side.
Guilty of what? Who was guilty?
Ny patient sank rapidly, and few
friends gathered around the bed to see
him breathe his last.
Though still delirious, he was grown
too weak to make that cry, and was
silently, unconsciously passing away.
Suddenly he turned his eyes upon us,
began to speak nationally, calling his
friends by name, and babe them good
by. Raising his week frame from the
pillow, he once more cried, ''Guilty!''
and was about to speak something,
when the door opened and the stranger
l 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 more determined look. The
other quailed beneath it and sank back,
silent.
! Springing to his side, placed nv
hand against his forehepd, and then, as
life ebbed away, 1 read the thought his
lips dare not utter. None present, ex-
cept 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 winters evening did uncle
and l pass together studying over the
puzzle had snatched almost from the
grave, but the mystery would not be
: solved, and at last we gave up trying
, to unravel it and sought other amuse.
ment.
He came home one day greatly agitat.