Wessington Springs herald. (Wessington Springs, Aurora County, Dakota [S.D.]) 1883-1891, 1886-05-21

peh"aht.ofrubies and pearls, the loss
OF winch hal first led me to unravcl. if
l could, this mystery of the great level
robbery. 1could not be mistaken. The
description given me had been most
minute. An exact counterpart of the
set was no. in existence; and here it Law
on the table before me.
AS L locked on with astonishment. |
from the BART of the room l could not
see there approached me, slowly and
with penive step and bowed head, like
walking in his sleep, the man whom
l now almost dreaded to see-the fam.
Gus doctor, Gideon West.
Couldhe be the author of those mys-
ter,ous thefts? L could not believe il.
md yet the proofs of his guilt Law before
me. NJ longer h~esitating, l stepped
forward. So sudden and so unexpected
was m, appearance that the man was
unconclous of my presence until I had
placed my hands upon his arm and
gasped in trembling tones: CDR. West
-I-srrest--" But the sentence was
nevercompleted.
Win a cry that might have been heard
almost in the grave, the unhappy man
shfanE from me. At that instant l
turned in the direction to which he was
pointing, with that agonized look upon
his face; and as l did so, l loosencd nv
hold and my hands fell powerless to my
side. In the corner of the chamber,
hitherto hidden from me, 1 saw one of
those old-fashioned b~edsteads, with
heavy draperies around it. The curtains
We're OF silk. ono a pearly white, now
dullcd and faded by age. The counter
pane and pillow, one like driven snow,
were white no more. Lying on the bed,
with her head on the pillow and her
body partially concealed by the bed
linen, l saw the form of q woman-a
woman who must once have been fair
and beautiful to behold. Her luxuriant
hair fell in wrraths on each side of her
face, and was then brought together over
the bare white throat. Her arms were
uncovered by the Counterpart, and,
clasping an infant child in their en-
brace, lay folded across her breast.
AS l realized all the details Of what
seemed like a vision, I confess that nv
nerves failed me. Icould only look at
that cold, pale face, lying so still on the
pillow, with the child-face nesting be-
side it; and as 1 looked. I realized that
the stiffness was the stiffness of death.
Like II entranced, l remained mo-
tionless for some moments, when again
l was aroused to action.
A figure clothed in white-the' face
scarcely less pale than the face of the
dead, the scanty locks of hair, white
with age, hanging loosely about her
shoulders, the eyes fixed on the bed, and
the hands stretched out %supplicatingly
toward it-glided into the room. Then
catching sight of the PROSTATE figure of
the mln who had cast himself beside the
bed, with his hands spread out on the
form that lay there, this apparition of
woe, turning on me a%glance of reproach
that will haunt me to my dying day, ex-
claimed, amid streaming tears: "You
have killed him! My son, my son!"
!" 4 "
And now, how shall I finish my story
withoutwearyingyo you Wit explanations?
Let me 90 back to that old question
once asked by Gideon West: "INhat if
success should come too late?" For all
the happiness it could bring him it did
come too late. His struggle with fate,
if not a long, had been a bitter one.
There fell y grieyous sickness ON the
neighborhood; disease and death stalked
abroad, and moved down their victims
without counting the numbers. Against
the grim tyrants Gideon West fought
day and night; his energy was endless,
his courage u%ndaunted; and he tri-
umphed. No; not Gideon West; but
the weapons of science triumphed in
his hands. Disease and death were
driven from the field; as they fled, they
shot one last bolt at their victor-it
glanced off his armor, but left his wife
and child dead at his side.
Yes, he had won. But what was the
victory worth? Fame, reward. wealth,
all We're his; but the n hope Of his life
was dead. Yet he never spared himself
never ceased work for q day
never hesitated at any sacrifice.
He lived. he said, for only
one object - it was to "wear
out his life" The old home
knew him to the end, and one faithful
and devoted woman gave all her years
to cheer the one hero of her life, the
poor struggling surgeon, the great
physic'an-the man who. for pure love,
had married her only child: Gcrtrude's
husband!
But the end came suddenly at last,
and outwardly there seemed to be nc
signs of failing power. The mind
seemed as fresh and as vigorous as ever.
Only in one direction did it give way.
Years of never-ceasing brooding over
his dead wife and child did its work;
and as the sad anniversary of his wife's
birthday, her marriage, and of her
death, onoe more approached, the strain
overpowered him. A mania seized him;
he must offer her the most costly treas
ures. Yet they must not appear to
come from him. but from others, from
those who owed their health, their life,
to his skill. They must be proofs of
his fame-proof to the dead wife OF her
husbands triumph. The mania grew
upon hia. Wherever he SAW any thing
that was of peculiar value, he seemed
to claim it as his own, fully persuaded,
us l believe, that it was a willing offering
to the memory of his dead wife. And so
those once inexplicable disappearance
were explained. No one suspected,
would dream of suspecting, the great
doctor; and sane in everything else, yet
with his brilliant intellect already ripe