Pittsburg dispatch. [volume] (Pittsburg [Pa.]) 1880-1923, 1890-12-27

for some scientific work. and then again for
poetry. Then he would send out list COM
bining works on philosophy, chemistry,
medicine and anatomical science. 1t seemed
as if he would fight dullness as a drowning
man the waves, and the last books be read
were Tolstoi's Religious Confessions" and
Cervante's 'Don Quixote."
The banker was feverishly pacing the
polished floor of his private room.
He was no longer the young, dar-
ing man who had held out that evil bet to
the young lawyer. The last 10 years had
left their marks on him, outside and in. His
hazardous speculations had, of late, become
less happy than before: in fact, of the many
millions he once possessed, there was hardly
more than the two he had to give up to-mor-
row at noon to his victorious prisoner. This
was the night of the 18th of November, 1885,
and tomorrow at noon the prisoner will de-
mand his liberty and two millions. Oh,
what fool he, the banker, had beenl Why,
that man was hardly 40 yeti He would
come out millionaire, would enjoy life and
wealth, marry, have a wife and children,
become famous, gain high position, while
he, the banker, would be left a beggar, look
ing with envy on this mans happiness.
Yes, and smile and be thankful, if this
to thank for the foundation of my fortune;let
me show you my gratitude by helping you
as much as possible!" Mol he could stand
anything but that; and yet, what was he to
do? He had to give up the money without
DELAY, without question, and there was moth
ing to prevent his ruin. There were but
two ways for him. A resolute jump from
the precipice he stood on, or, in plain
language, ball through his heart, and
there would be an end of everything, or he
must look forward to bankruptcy and dis
grace. Hold! yes-there was a third-that
man could diel Why did he not die before?
Why should he, the once penniless nobody,
live TO rob him of his wealth and position,
when they were more to him than life itself?
Yes, ne must-he shall die! At first a thrill
of horror went through the breast of the
banker, as he contemplated this fear
full conception yet itcame again and again;it
shaped itself into thought, it worked into a
terrible determination, TO be carried out
this night-at once!
1t was o'clock. Everybody in the
house, except the master, was asleep. He
unlocked his fireproof safe and took out the
key-which had not been used for 10 years
the key to the prisoners room. He care
fully put on his overeoat, and slowly and
noiselessly left the house, and let himself
out into the garden. The night was chill,
the rain was dripping, and it was so dark
that it was only by general knowledge of
the locality that he could find his way
to the side wing. At the outer door, be
called twice for the porter in charge,
but received no answer; evidently the man
had retired somewhere, into the kitchen or
the house, and had fallen asleep. "Now, #
/ only have courage enough to carry it
through, suspicion will, in the first place,
fall on the keeper in charge" the banker
thought, as he carefully felt his way to the
stairs, and, ascending, opened the door which
led into the corridor. Here he lighted
match and looked around. Nobody was
there. A bed stood there, but without pill
lows; in q corner was an iron stove, and, on
a board, there stood among old books an
enormous stuffed eagle. The seals on the
prisoners door were untouched yet, and az
the flames of the match died away, the
banker, shaken by agitation and hutterlng
of the heart, drew close to the little window
and looked into the room.
There was feeble lamp light within, and
the prisoner sat at the table, with his back
against the door and seemingly absorbed
in deep study. On the table. the chairs, and
the carpets. lay heap of open books. About
five minutes passed without single move
ment-a solitary life had evidently taught
the prisoner quietude. The banker tapped
twice on the window with his finger, but the
man seemed to take no notice OF it-at any
rate. he did not turn. Slowly the banker
ripped off the seals and placed the key in
the keyhole. The rusty lock gave harsh
click, and the banker thought that, a.
soon as the door would be opened, the pris-
oner would jump up and cry out. How
ever, nothing of the kind happened, and as
the banker stepped in, the man sat there,
immovable as before.
s'The man." l have said; but the
human being who sat there at that
t.bIe hardly resambled mart,
fact, seemed hardly to belong to mankind In
general. A skeleton it was, with long, thin
back, skin Of waxen, almost ashy, pslenssss