San Antonio daily light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1886-1907, 1889-12-02

aN one and rather
its exactnesS and regularity. He attend
ed strictly to business during business
hours, and stood well in commercial
circles He took his pleasures soberly in
his hours of relaxation. He had no vices
and no entangling alliances.
Neither the clothes cast off by the
murderer in his flight, nor the diamond
button found by Holbrook, nor the
knife left in the body of the dead man,
had proved to be clews of value to the
police.
The verdict of the coroner's jury had
been: Game to his death by being
stabbed with knife, in the hands of
person unknown"
The police adopted the theory that the
man had been struck in mistake, and
that another victim had been intended.
q. Why? That was a secret they guarded,
and they worked on that line.
A large reward for the detection of the
criminal was offered by the authorities.
And the affair faded from the news
papers.
The funeral had been a quiet one.
There were but two mourners present
an elderly lady and a younger one closely
yelled, both evincing great grief. There
were but few attendants from curiosity.
Neither Mr.. Witherspoon nor Flora
Ashgrove were present.
Holbrook, who was, noted this fact,
and contrasted her intense interest in
the murdered man the day after the
murder, with her absence from the fu-
neral ceremonies.
A few of Templeton's business &C
quaintances, and the friends with whom
he spent the last hours of his life made
up the rest.
Apparently the tragedy was of one act,
and the drop curtain was down.
Holbrook's law office was on the sew
enth story of one of those tall buildings
which in recent years have become a
conspicuous feature of lower New York.
His private Office was a corner room,
and from the window his eye could roam
over the roofs of adjacent buildings,
across the Hudson river and beyond the
houses on the Jersey shore to the green
hills back of them.
One afternoon, two weeks after the
murder, he was resting himself from his
labors and enjoying the extensive view
spread out before him.
In fact, he was reviewing that strange
interview with Flora Ashgrove the day
after the murder.
Her manner, her emotion, her eager
ness, her anger, all dwelt wildly in his
mind, but his perplexity was as great as
on the day he left her presence.
What connection, if any, had she with
the murder? What did she know, if
anything? What relation had existed
between herself and the dead man? Why
did she want to know so particularly the
appearance of the murderer? What was at
the bottom of the intense anxiety she dis
played? And for whom was this anxiety
displayed? She was tall and slim, or
would be if dressed in mems clothes
could it possibly have been herself? Was
she the kind of woman whom jealousy
would impel to such crime?
Ihese were the questions he had asked
himself again and again, and never had
found satisfactory answers to them.
They haunted him like a nightmare,
and at every leisure moment returned to
vex him, until he plunged deeply into
work to escape them.
OF this, however, he was conscious
his feelings toward Flora had undergone
a great change. AS beautiful as she I'M
deniably was, he preferred that she
should be some one else's wife. In her
interview with him she had uncovered
disposition he did not like, and the tor
meuting questions that would come un-
hidden had finally bred in him fear of
her and he had taken alarm.
As he was thus musing, clerk in
TO BE CoETENURp.