Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1889-07-25

| you by the measure of a hair'S-breadth.
Take my case. My wife runs away from
me. | whistle her Off The world is wide
and it is filed with fair women. My wife
| is fair | make no attempt to discover
her; give her to understand that she is
free to go her way. What is the conse-
quence? After an interval Of three years,
/ she finds out where | am. and suspects
that l have money in my purse. She
writes to me-O, in such tender tones!
| May she come and see me? Of course she
may And, Gaskell, she will come, and
| not alonel She will bring the other fellow
with her-or, rather, he will insist upon
coming with her, telling her that he viii
keep out of my way. Little does she dream
that this will exactly suit me. The fact
| is, | feel rather hampered, tied to my wife
who is not my wife. Without knowing it,
she will supply me with evidence against
herself; l shall put her in the Divorce
/ Court, from which I shall issue with
clean bill, to marry again if L please.
And may please, for have susceptible
| heart"
"Gaskell, old man, am going to show
you something; but you must first give
me PROMISE
What promises" I asked.
'That when you see what | have to
show you, and when you hear the explain
alton | shall give you will not run away
| from me-"
Il give you the promise" said; "but
cannot stay with you over tomorrow
night"
where are you going to then?"
81 do not know"
"Well, well, he said as though 10th to
press me, fearing that might retract my
| promise; 81 must be content. But I hope
| we shall meet again. There is a singular
| attraction in you, Gaskell, for which I
cannot account. You promise me honora-
| bly?"
Eyes, honorably."
"As a gentlemanp
! made pitiful motion with my hands;
| l could not help it. There was so much
true sincerity and feeling in his voice that
| it touched my heart. | could mott could
80 the little sob of thankfulness
| which burst from me. Was it possible
that I, murderer, thief, could still win
| the respect of men? l turned from him,
ashamed that he should witness my agita-
ton, and partly afraid that it might be-
tray me.
4
IF you will have it So" said, 'as a
gentleman"
81 hold you to it, he said.
Then he took his sketch-book from his
| pocket, and detaching leaf, handed it to
me. | stared at the drawing in dumb
amaZement
| 1t represented bedroom, the bedroom
he and had occupied on the preceding
night On the table was a lighted candle,
| and near it stood a man, apparently just
/ risen from his bed. In his right hand
were two articles, upon which he was gaz-
| ing with an expression of unutterable woe
| and despair in his face.
| The man was myself. The articles I
was gazing upon were the ring and the
| cord.
1T is yourself, you see," said Stanmore.
II see,' | muttered.
do you remember" he asked.
"No"
at occurred last night, at three o'clock
by my watch. / was awake, thinking of
my wife, amused at the surprise I had in
store for her. A movement from the part
of the room in which you slept attracted
my attention. You rose from your bed,
| struck a match, and lit the candle.
| called, and asked you whether you were
| unwell you did not answer. You searched
! your pockets. and produced therefrom
| diamond ring and piece of string. You
| approached the candle, and looked down
| upon them, with just that expression upon
! your face have caught so faithfully. I
| called to you again, and again you did not
answer. Then l rose, got my sketch book,
and made the drawing. 1t struck me as q
good subject for a picture. 1t is seldom an
1 Il. g ,4.Is.
expression as that When the sketch was
| finished, | came quite close to you and
| looked at the ring and the piece of string.
| 1t was common strong piece of cord but
the ring startled me, the diamond in it
being of such extraordinary brilIiancy.
1t is strange thinks 1, that friend Gas
kell works as a hop-picker, and lives on
bread and water'-I know that, you see
when he owns a ring which he could sell
or pledge for a good many pounds You
were fast asleep, Gaskell, and [ was more
than ever convinced that you are the hero
| of some strange story. For at least
! quarter of an hour you stood in the atti-
| tude in which you are depicted; then you
| put out the candle; in the dark you re-
| placed the articles in your pocket, and
| heard you creep into bed. That is all"
1t was sufficient. Was it fated that |
myself should be compelled by memorable
| justice to supply evidence of my guilt?
| Not for my life did | care, s0ut the honor
and good name of my wife and daughter
were in my keeping, and those L must pro-
tect so long as it lay in my power.
"Stanmore," / said, release me from
my promise. must go away at once-at
| oncer'
/ tfYou ara afraid of mesn
/ 81 am. Better for me never to speak to
mortal man againp'
''Look again at the sketch, Gaskell. Elk
anime it we'll"
obeyed him, but saw nothing in it that
l had not seen before.
Il am skilled in the nlG1lces of express
sion," he continued Frivolous person
as | am | claim to be subtle in my art
There is despair in the face of this draw
| ing, but, Gaskell, it is not the despair of
| guilt: it is the despair of innocence. / de-
| cline to release you from your promise.
You remain with me at least till to-mor-
row night. What do you want?"
The question was addressed to a wait
er, who had entered the room without
knocking.
"a gentleman wishes to see you immed-
lately, sir.'
Let him come inn
The waiter, departing, returned, usher
ing in man, respectfully dressed. The
blood rushed to my head, and my heart
beat violently; for I recognized in him the
detective who, with two other officers, had
come to my house upon the morning OF
the murder of Mr. Wilmot. For moment
l thought that trap had been set for me