The morning call. [volume] (San Francisco [Calif.]) 1878-1895, 1890-10-23
A STRANGE EXPERIENCE
BY SARA TRAINER SMITH.
1CONCLUDED.l

rot think of me as connected with this most
singular occurrence? so help me, heaven.
there was no doubling his solemn truth
fulness-''I am as ignorant OF its meaning
az hi %$0uf'Sn "n'' 0'D you 'Di-A Au'" u
81 thought was afraid it was hypnot-
iSm-or something like that" l answered
from the shelter Of his shoulder, ashamed Of
my fears.
MEANS" he said very grayely. Will tell
you if there are any grounds for such an
idea. Nothing Is gained now by laughing at
these things"
u say, Jean, who's ths?" interrupted
Williams, who had taken up another sheet
of paper from the desk. Does this belong
to the Other?"
1T is the man who ran away" L an
swered.
The who?"
1.-The man who ran away-the tall man in
the red shirt"
David turned toward me.
"Where did lie run?" he asked, in a
singular, intense manner
He ran between Inc and the crowd,
down this bank and up that" tracing, the
line with nv finger He stood just here
engine and away across the fields to the
woods here. He ran like the wind" had
spoken as directly, simply and carefully as
possible.
MY dear" said David. very quietly.
''you have seen the murderer 1t may be
you have given a clew to lis capture"
"Oh, David" | cried. 'Oh, how couldl?
1t cannot mean anything"
Its a pretty clear account of things,
think" said William.
Il do not know what to think" said
David, getting up from the desk and stand
ing, as was his custom when very much In
| earnest. IF you had been on the spot you
! could not have made a more exact sketch;
you could not have given an idea OF what
occurred more graphically. As f,r the
| MANTLE suspected man was tall, we Judged
from the chid'S description, and wore red
shirt, loose at the neck. He must have been
in the house when the train stopped The
question has been where did he go? Up
the road? Down the road? From the
house to the woods in the direction away
from that you have indicated? Not trace
OF him has been found in either Of the three
courses. l-I-cannot but think he did
what you seem to have seen him do-come
boldly into our midst and make Oft before
our faces while we were altogether occupied
with his victim. Jean, tell ME again, and as
exactly as possible, the whole story"
l told him, Lily and William listening.
When l finished he sat down before the desk.
He had stood while l was talking.
"Wnl,'' he said 81 think we had better
let Benton hear this. VIII you take him
note for me? He'll come anywhere to meet
me, when he might object TO going with me
TO see another person."
William was off in five minutes. We sat
talking of the matter until his return.
Nothing could be explained, and David was
as much in the dark as l was.
Mr.. Benton, the detective, came back with
William. David told il all over 10 him, and
he took up the sketches with benevolent
yet mildly skeptical smile.
"Of course, doctor, these things do happen
sometimes, but as general thug they don't
amount to much Now, this"
lie never finished that sentence. After
some minutes lie laid down the paper with
long breath.
he said, emphatically. Il know that man.
It's jun Reeder. By this time he's in New
York. But we'll have him here before long;
and we may thank you for 1t, madam"
He was very respectful and pleasant, but
to this day he thinks of me rs "a lady clair
voyant," l know II, for he has tried to inter
est David III two or three cases." with the
view of getting something OUT of me that
would throw light OH them.
1 cannot tell how many times we went
over the story Of the poor Thing with whose
sad fate l was SO singuarly connected. Dur
ing the next few days the papers were full
of it, and told so many and such cOntradic-
tory stories that they served for a disguise
of the truth as impenetrable as any one
could wish. David had to 20 out there
again in the interest OF the commonwealth.
| enough, tut comfortable and hOme-like,
where the poor creature had tried to make
shelter for her wrUnged and innocent child
Heaven grant there may have been in her
poor heart some longing effort to find her
self "home not made with hands in that
land to which she passed so suddenly and
horribly on that dreadful dayl There has
never been any certainty as 10 the truth OF
her story.
1t was about two weeks later that David
nd I,t.A ara two nnl lal an,
well madam" said Mr.. Benton, as soon
as had greeted him, we've got him at last
1t was jim kreder, sure enough"
A sudden laintneSs struck me and / sat
! down and looked at David. felt afraid of
what had been done through me. Some
| awful power seemed TO enslave me.
He never left New York." went on Mr.
Benton, briskly, " but 1t wasn't very easy to
ind him there. We brought him over last
night"
though he was not so sure of himself David
spoke then:
jean we would like you to see him. Mr..
Benton, moreover, has desire that he should
see you. Will you come with us?"
did not say so, but |, too, wished to sec
| him. ! wished 10 convince myself that it
was the man | had seen in that strange ex-
| pericnce. / went with them at once
l do not know exactly what they call the
| place into which l was taken. There were
quite number of people there, some officials
| and some visitors like myself. | always
shudder at the thought of those prison walls,
| that grating door, those hopeless corridors.
| That day l thought only of the man whom
| l feared-yes. feared. | had helped to bring
within them. strong and vigorous, eager and
| hot-heaited, yet to all lntents and purposes,
| a dead man.
David drew me little aside and spoke to
me in low voice.
"Presently," he said, several men will
pass through here to that door in the corner.
| One Of them will be Jim Reeder. If you
recognize him make no Sign"
The door opened. l glanced up with a
| beating heart and throbing pulse. The
| third man was Jim Reeder.
lie was well and handsomely dressed, but
| there was no mstaking him. Tall, slight,
| fair and young-young as myself, and not
| the typical villain in any outward manner.
But, if there was ever any doubt in the
! minds OF his captors, it vanished forever
when we stood face to face.
| He came in with light, easy step, and an
| Indifferent expression. The next moment he
saw me. lie met my eyes, and stood like a
statue where they caught his
| Who are your lie said, in a mon otonouS,
deadened voice, not like aquestion with an
interest in The reply. II never harmed YOU
| l-oh, for Gods sake, men, keep her Off
keep her off !"
lie put up his hands in curious. trem-
bling way, ironed as they were. The next
| instant he dropped where he stood. foaming
| in commissions.
That's all right" said Mr.. Benton, hurry
| ing up TO us from a door which suddenly
opened near me- This way, madam. In
here, doctor. l was looking for something.
This is about it. He's satisfied. And he's
| about scared to death, too"
David had occupied himself in finding
chair for me, and Mr.. Benton hurried
away and came back in minute with
water and flask and fan.
shes a little bit shaken, doctor. They
| generally are here, no matter what brings
| them. A little of this, now. And some
| air. You see, we have to do fraction of
! doctoring ourselves Don't mean to take
| your practice out of your hands"
He laughed. David smiled in preoc-
cupied way, and | reused myself to put
an end to the light, joking way. 1t was
! horrible to me. l think now it was an
| evidence of Mr.. Benton's good sense
He had probably learned that nothing will
/ so quickly and thoroughly bring woman
to her senses as any triflng with what is to
| her of solemn import.
Then David questioned him. Mr. Ben
! ton had not told him why he wished his
prisoner to see me. He now explained