The Kimball graphic. (Kimball, Brule County, Dakota [S.D.]) 1883-1905, 1890-07-25

face with a man in a ragged blouse, wheel
Ing q truck.
The man was Serizier.
She had not one moment of doubt; not q
passing shadow of hesitation clouded the
clcarness Of her mind. This was Serizier.
She bad seen him last in the pomp OF his
warlike a~ccoutrements, plumed hat, clank-
ing sword, and sabretasch, red scarf. breast
%bedizcned with gold embroidery, chin and
lip shrouded by a heavy military moustache,
erect, audacious, arrogant, lording it over
an adlniring crowd.
To-day tho man was cl~can-shaved; he
seemed to have grown smaller, as If bent
double with a load of ignominy, shrunk into
his sordid inner self, lessened morally and
physically by the loss of p.umes and gold
lace, and the insolence OF successful au-
dacity.
But Kathleen was not the less sure of his
identity. Those restless shifting eyes, more
unqniet than ever now that the man had
fallen to the level of hunted criminals
those evil-looking eyes were not to be for
gotten. 1t was he.
Cold and trembling, Kathleen Uttered,
and reeled against the wall. For a few mo-
ments her eyes were dim, and her brain WAS
clouded, the passionate beating of her heart
was almost unbcarable; then, collecting her
senses with a supreme effort, she turned
and followed her prey, keeping at a respect
full distance, and in the shadow of the
houses. She saw him wheel his truck into
a little yard belonging to the curriers' work
shop-watched him come out again and go
Into n wine-shop on the other side of the
street, where he sat drinking and talking
with another blue blouse. Kathleen stood
0nfgIIa In tho ityk-oS cIn lNl ctnol out.
side many such a window in the course of
her evening watches-and studied the mana
face by the lightof the flaring candle, which
stood in front of him, as he hobnobbed With
his friend.
Yes, her patience was rewarded. She had
found him--the assassin of the defcncclcss.
The man to whom tears and blood had been
as strong wine, for whom POWER had meant
the power to STAY and to burn. This bull
dog>visaged workman, grooming over his
pipe, talking with bent brow and angry
eyes, this was the murderer OF the Domlini-
cans and of Castor Mortemar.
She went straight to the office of the Com
mtssary of Police of the Quarter de Ia Care;
but by this time 1t was ten o'clock. and too
late Tor her to be admitted to an interview
with any of the officials. She was told to
return In the morning, when she could sec
the chief officer. She was there again when
the office opened, saw Monsieur GrIllieres,
and told him her story.
The intelligence was welcome, for Mon
sleur Grillieres, misled by erroneous infor-
nation, had already made more than thirty
useless investigations In search of Serizler.
Monsieur Grillicres started instantly, ac-
ccmpanied by two inspectors; but on arriv-
ing at the Rue Galande he was tod that the
Belgian currier had left the night before.
He and his workmen had moved the stock
in-trade-some of the things had gone away
In n van, some IN a truck. The last truck
load had been wheeled away at midnight.
Where had he gomez
Nobody knew exactly; everybody had
some suggestion to offer; the ultimate result
of which statements and counter-statemcnts,
assertions and contradictions, was that the
Belgian currier had been heard to say that
he was going to establish himself in the
neighborhood Of the markets.
Thither Monsieur Grillieres started in hot
haste, and searched every shop occupied by
a %currier, leather-seller, or morocco manrl-
f%acturer, but to no purpose. He found 10
one resembling Serlz!er among the hard
handed sons Of labor smelling of leather.
He began to despair, when towards five
O'clock In the afternoon, crossing a street
which abutted or the corn-markei, he SAW q
van standing near a door-a van fill of
bundles of leather, dressed skins, and cur
rier's implements. A man was unloading
the van, and carrying the contents into the
house near which the vehicle waited. Grill
Heres went into a shop where he saws man
who looked like the proprietor.
You are a currler2' said the magistrate.
"Yes, monsieur"
II am q police magistrate, and [ must beg
you to answer my questions"
Willingly, monsieur"
"How long have you lived in this part of
the town?'
"Sincc last night"
"Where were you beforc?"
"Rue Galande."
'11ow many workmen do you employ"
1.-TWO: the man who is unloading the van,
ead who has been with me fourteen years
the other Who'll has been working for me only
b fortnight, and WHO'S now IN my workshop
on the third floor of this house"
What Is his name%'
"Chaligny."
His name is not Chaligny," answered
Monsieur Grillieres. 'IIe is Serizier, and l
am here to arrest him."
Graillieres won't upstairs, followed by his
two men. On the third floor there was a
door half-open, and in the room within they
saw a man sharpening his knives. The man
looked up, and, seeing a stranger, was
seized with m instant suspicion, and
stretched out his hand to snatch up a shaw.
%ing-knife, the first instrument of defence 81
attack which offered itself. But Monsieur
Grillieres threw himself upon him. You
are my prisoner" he said.
why do you arrest me?" cried the man.
MY name is Chaligny."
Duprat, one of the police-oficers, had
been immured as a hostage at the prison OF
La Sante during Serizier's reign of terror.
lie recognized the ci-deuant colonel at q
glance.
lyon ARE Ser&gier," he said; 81 remember
You perfectly"
Yes" answered the other doggedly, 81
am Serizier. The game is up, and l know
YOU fellows on the staircase just now, you
should not have taken me- alive"
lie made no resistance, and was taken tc
the police-office, where he himself dictated
his deposition. Thence he was transferred
to the Prefecture. Thence again, after tn,
usual formalities, he was sent to the Depot
My allalTS are Settlcu, ne Salu 10 Ills
custodiais. g have done enough to get IN!
head washed in a leaden bath but it's al
the same to me. l regret nothing; l only
did my duty"
Colonel Scrizier was right in his prophecy
His doom was to be the leadcn bath; BIZ
the laws delays are tedious, and the muir
derer arrested in October was not to be DIES
patched until the following February.
CHAPTER XIII.
AToNEMENT.
Kathleen's mission was accomplished
There was no more fo1 her to do. She wen
back To the Rne Git le CGur, broken IL
spirit and In body. She lay on her bed, ant
it seemed to her that her life now was on,
long Sunday, a time of apathy and dumb
dull rest-toyless, hopeless. There wa,
nothing more for her to do In this life. Sh,
had given the victim over to his exccu
TONERS. She was told that the end was Ger
tain. There could pc no pardon, 10 com
mutation of the laws last penalty for sucl
a wretch as Scrizicr. Franco would rice III
with one loud cry of vengeance were Their,
any pulling for mercy here.
The slow days wore on-dull gray days