Union County courier. [volume] (Elk Point, Union County, D.T. [S.D.]) 187?-1913, 1886-02-17


~ ared that fatal shot and snatched il y
he fell, thinking II wal me likeness Of hef
stepmother."
The gIri had tainted and lay u one
dead.
@Oh. God what shall / do?a screamed
Pride. They've murdered him and now
they'll murder her. Oh! my God, my
God! have mercy upon MS miserable sim
ners!s
Pride was q r~itualist and never forgot
the ftany In her EXTREMIST moments. She
said amiserGsble' up to any Frenchman or
Spaniard!
There was o scene. Belle McCrea had
rushed in to find her stepdaughter
stretched out foaming like one dend. The
servants were rushing in from all parts Of
the establishment. The whole house was
in an uproar. Jasper McCrea had been
buried that morning with sad solemnity and
an immense c~oncourse. The male servants
had just returned from the funeral. In
England, as is we'll known, females Of the
family do not go to the grave. This saves
a deal Of dead faints and sal.volatile. The
weeping sons, husbands, and fathers, don't
propose to jump in with the cofini
She was raving. A doctor and an officer
OF the law were at her bedside. II was q
DS0hCs OpAtC 2kCSICU lelt ucE HCIttH XIV
ing way. This was worse than death.
Suddenly she revived. from her faint.
But her eyes now had an expression Of
madness. Belle McCrea started to leave
the ROOM. The girl caught sight Of her as
she lay there. "Give me my mothers
locket. Don't let that woman 60! She
and he are my fathers murderers." Pride,
in an agony of establishment and dismay
started to put her hand over her young mis-
tress' mouth.
The girl rose up like a fury. Her eyes
glared. Her teeth clenched.
mo! l will speak, They have murdered
him! Where is that locket, that locket,
that locket?n shrieked she, digging her
thin nails into the very flesh. aYou have
murdered him that you might marry each
other" Belle McCrea here gave one
scream and tainted. The men bore her to
her room. The doctor gave Marian nm
opiate by force. Soon she was calmer.
Ten minutes after this the officer whom
We left at the bedside of Marian McCrea,
was closeted with his chief.
In one hour thereafter the same officer
was at the door Of vervain Clare's rooms
with a warrant to search.
"Where is Vervain Clare2"
"Not here, sir!" said the maid, shaking
in her shoes. "Leastwise, he drove ont
about ten minutes ago."
"The DEVIL" mnttered the officer. "He
has taken that locket with him, or pitched
it into the Thamesl"
He had left his keys.
The officer gave a chuckle. Sharp dodge.
Guess that love letters is about oil wen run
afoul of here. Lace kerchief, maybe, or
perfume bottles!
There was no locket in the room any
where. They searched all around.
But, great Heaven! what else did they
findp What madness induced Veryain
Glare, a sensible modern English gentle
man to leave 10 the mercy Of intruders and
spies such damning written evidence
against himself and the women lie loved.
Written evidence of a kind too fragrant and
clear to be mistaken-lock of her hair, her
photographers, what is that-her photo
graph.
Then why did he need her locket?
Jealous Of her husbands own iewelled
locket! The dog, the brute. To murder a
man for his wife and steal her locket from
his dying finger.
Where is Judge Lynch? Alas! for the
cold blood Of these stupid Britishers!
Well, he left his lady's card photograph, a
lock Of her beautiful auburn hair, perfumed
notes by the dozen in which he was my
darling" My precious Vervain," and
keepsakes OF beauty and value.
And, Heavens! what was that Her
check payable to the Bearer for five hun
bred pounds.
She had been supporting this wretch.
The officers gasped for breath. "Whew!
these fine ladies do do queer and curious
things! 1t seems as il the husband they
wasn't married to, and who they have TO
feed. was q sight more to EN- than the hus-
band they had gone to church with and
who feeds them!" At least such was the
inference drawn by this honest officer.
1t Is 3 o'clock in the afternoon. A train
from London is steaming into Dover. A
tall policeman with a telegram in his band
looks anxiously at the passengers as they
alieht.
swat! There he is! Light hair, waxy
yellow mustache-answers description ex-
actly! Sir vervain Clare" said he, adj
dressing that gentleman in a low tone 80
as not to attract too much attention. II ar
Section No, in the Queens name!"
Sir Vervain was a self possessed man.
His nerves were strung to an intense pitch.
But he was calm. "For what, il you
please" said he, levelling his eye glass ut
the local policeman.
"For the murder Of Jasper McCrea!"
Sir vervain turned pale. The officers
thought it the paleness Of guilt. Then in q
low tone he said: Blast jasper McCrea!
| may have injured him, but / never laid
hands on him. SO help me God?"
"You are my prisoner, nevertheless"
"All right" said the Baronet, coolly.
Disgrace me and her if" his voice here
trembled-eand her-if-if you will, but no
British jury can hang me for that man. He
was kind to me and l wouldn't have in
jured o hair of his head"
"Your flight, Sir Vervain," suggested the
officer rs they walked to the place where a
train was about to start back for London.
"My fight! My Godi was it not time to
fee? Yet stay! ] would have gone back
to London without you or your telegram
said he, putting his hands suddenly in his
coat pockets. my God! l left those keys
ON my table. Oh God! oh God!n
And the strong man wept with agony and
shame.
He had gone and done it now. Where
would the last shred Of her reputation be
henceforth? Those letters. that photo
graph. that lock of auburn hair! Oh, fool!
fool! fool that he was! Why did the cow
Ardly fear Of public opinion tempt him to
take that fatal train?
When he arrived in London and was
landed in his prison accommodations, the
same officer who had searched his room
proceeded to search his person.
Tho Baronet, scion Of men who had
fought at Hastings and Bosworth, drew
back and doubled his fist. The very dia-
mond on it-her diamond-seemed to fash
fire.
II am q gentleman" said he, looking as
II he would spit into this minion's face,