The Warner sun. (Warner, Brown Co., Dakota [S.D.]) 1885-1???, 1886-06-25
THE COINER'S WIFE.
BY AN ENGLISH Ex-DETEcTIvE.

BY AN ENGLISH Ex-DETECTIyE.
I shall never forget the 18th of De-
cember, 1879. The streets of the
great city of Manchester had grown
depressingly desolate, and dense,
black fog prevailed over all the
town.
was hurrying, as fast as the night
would allow, from Victoria railway
station, along the then old and dingy
Deansgate, in the direction of my of
fee, just as the cathedral bells were
Ginning the hour of IL.
Benumbed with cold, found to my
great JOY a cheerful fire blazing in my
room, which, thanks to my comrade,
who had retired for the night, had
CONSIDERABLY prepared for me. took
off my great coat and muffler, drew a
chair close to the fender, and began
thinking over the Incidents of case
had that afternoon brought to sue
cessful issue, when, with the sudden
ness of startled night birds scream,
/ heard piteous and prolonged shrek
issuing from beneath the unshuttered
window.
sprang to my feet, and gazing in the
direction of the sound saw a sight !
shall never forget while memory holds
a seat in my brain. Avid, whiteface,
with long, dishevelled hair hanging
over an ill-clad form, was gesticula-
ting in a beseeching manner close to
the firelit panes.
Cool and collected as usually am
under extraordinary circumstances,
must confess to a feeling of terror
taking possession of my whole frame
at that instant, and ] sat there root
ed to the spot. 1t was only for mo-
ment, though-or, perhaps, as long as
it would take one to count ten-before
the apparition, as it seemed to be,
vanished as suddenly from my trans
fixed gaze as it had in coming upon
me with all it's CHASTITY whiteness.
"This is very strange" Iinvolunta-
rily exclaimed, "and puzzles me not q
little. What can it meanf"
Then striding toward the door,
flung it wide open; but there was
nothing before ma only the black,
choking fog and the dead silence ofthe
street
For little while / stood like one
bewildered. / strained my ears is the
anxious hope OF catching the sound
OF some ones football; but it was all
in vain-the quiet remained unbroken.
Pushing bach the door, / turned to
re-enter the room, when my eyes
caught sight of a piece of white pa
per that lay upon the wide sill Of the
window.
"Ah,' thought +, "here, then, is the
explanation of this deep mystery"
Itook it to the light, opened it, and
much to my astonishment found a
message of deep anguish addressed
to me, in almost undecipherable
characters. The note was wet in
places as if with tears, and it bore
luuuUttbOiC cflQCuCc va tA6fAAib NtNi
hurriedly written. This is what it
said:
III you would stop more crime, perhaps
murder come at once to 13 Tomson's
court. Am followed. Heaven save me
and my child What shall do? Rescue
us, and God bless you.
LIZZIE THORNLEY,.
BE careful. Conceal yourself Watch.
Top room at back.
Thornley, Thornley, The name APP
peared familiar to me. / went to the
diary, turned to the letter Il, and
found the following entry:
November "a, 1S7S-Bill Thornley,, alias
Springer, alias Saxley, coiner-wanted-
Could this, then, be the man who
for nearly eighteen months had sue
cessfully eluded our most vigilant pur-
suit? It seemed more than probable.
Was the information, however, con-
tanned in that mysterious message Of
q genuine character? Or wasit meant
to lead me into fatal trap? The
promptings of my heart answered me,
and that answer was: Bill Thornley,,
desperado, you are in Tomson's Court,
and will have you my slippery beau
ty, before another day is over.
1t was very late, or rather ! ought