The Wichita daily eagle. [volume] (Wichita, Kan.) 1890-1906, 1890-11-14

MS sisters sOrroVS4Dll. .,c4COmed uIIu, ant,
| let him into the chamber of death, to gaze
for the last time on his fathers face-alasl
so changed, so calm, so still What a host
Of memories crowded in upon him as he
stood there beside the bedl Memories OF
childhood's happy hours, watched over by
this fond fathers loving care; memories OF
schooldays and holidays, when pleasures
had been plentiful and punishments prob
ably too few; memories of later youth and a
sense of chatting at restraint from the mild
est of paternal discipline; then the start in
life and the dislike to work, the evil com
panions, the craving for amusements, and
then the occasional quarrels and final rupt-
ure with that good father who wished
only for the welfare of his child. All, yes;
Richard knew only too well what a bad
son he had been. He had, indeed, brought
down those gray hairs in sorrow to the
grave. His repentance had come too late.
They bore Charles Hammond to his last
resting place in Ormsby church yard.
When the mourners returned to the house
the lawyer informed the family that no
will had been discovered as yet, and that
it was feared none would be found.
After the lapse of two or three months
without the finding of a will, Richard
Hammond and Paul Hammond took out
letters of administration of their fathers
estate. Certain property had been settled
upon the children Of the respective mar
riages under the marriage settlements.
There was a small real estate called
"Greenhill' at the fathers disposal, which
now passed to Richard as eldest son and
heir-at-law. The remainder of the estate
was distributed among the children in &C
cordance with the legal rule in the case of
an intestacy.
Between the two half brothers, Richard
and Paul, there had never been much affec-
ton or sympathy, and now Paul, who for
the last three years, since Richards rupt-
ure with his father, had considered him
self the old mans heir, could not endure,
without much chagrin and jealousy, Rich
ara thus stepping into his shoes and TAX
ing possession of the freehold property
which he (PauD had long regarded as his
rightful inheritance That Mr.. Hammond
had made will in his favor, leaving him
the property, Paul was convinced, for his
father had told him so in so many words
not many weeks before he died. What,
then, had become of this missing will? To
solve this problem Paul felt that he must
in the first place get on the track of the
burglars who had broken into the Grange
on the night when his father died, and who
had stolen everything from the study safe,
including, no doubt, the precious docu-
ment which was lost. Immediately after
the discovery of the burglary Paul had
caused a detective to be sent down from
London, who had been occupied for some
days in conducting investigations on the
spot. Some fragments of circumstantial
evidence were obtained, but not sufficient
to direct suspicion to any known individ-
ual, and the police professed to come to the
conclusion that the robbery was the work
of thieves from London.
And so time went on, but six months
after the burglary a gold watch chain, sub
sequently identified as having belonged to
the second Mrs. Hammond, was offered in
pledge at a London pawnbroker's The
person who had offered it was afterward
traced and arrested. He proved to be the
young man, James Tierce by name, well
known at Ormsby Grange as the nephew
of the hOusekeeper there. He had been a
great favorite with Mr.. Hammond, as had
also been his sister, girl year or two
older than himself, and the pair had been
visitors at the house during the
deceased gentlemans lifetime; in fact,
James Tierce was the last individual who
had been with Mr.. Hammond before his
paralytic seizure. On the young mans be-
ongings being searched after his arrest
certain other small valuables, which had
belonged to the dead man,
we're found. The prisoner accounted for
he possession of all the articles by stating
Dat they had been given by Mr.. Ham
nond either to his sister or himself The
however, of a housemaid, who
lad seen Tierce crossing the hall to the
study with bunch of keys in his hand on
.he morning of that fatal 9th of Deem
Der, tended to connect him with the burg
airy, and this evidence being offered on
.he hearing of the charge before the mag
strates, and not satisfactorily refuted, the
young man was in the end committed for
rial.
In the interval that elapsed before the
issizes Paul Hammond visited the prisoner
n his cell. He found the poor fellow dread
ully depressed and low spirited, but not
without hope that he would be able to
lear himself at the trial.
HIS II AuNAtt0 hlA0 Vi NOu, MI. ]
aid the prisoner with grateful look, ito
lay me visit in this dreadful place. 1t
makes me fancy that you, at any rate, do
rot believe me guilty of robbing your
ather, who was always so good to me-"
81 hardly know what to think, James," |
eplied his visitor, but am most anxious |
o discover the truth Of what happened on |
he night my father died. They may not |
nave told you that my fathers will has /
never yet been found. It is believed that |
{ was stolen along with the valuables in /
he safe. Now ] care nothing about the 1
ewelry and such things, nor am / eager to \
zee the poor wretch who robbed us suffer; /
,ut what do want to recover is the miss |
ng will. Ii is a matter of great moment |
o me, and also to others"
This is the first word have heard. sir,
bout missing will; but-but"-and here
he prisoners face frightened considerably /
IL think | can tell you something, Mr.
Paul, which may throw some light on the
natter. You will remember how, on the
morning Of your fathers seizure, he asked
o be left alone for a while when they
rought him his letters' Well as it hap
ened, was the last to leave his room, for
had been helping Miss Hammond to move
i'm in his big chair nearer the fire, as he
vas feeling chilly, when, just as l was clos
ng the door after me, he called me back
nd said, James, | want you 10 do little
ervice for me. ] do not wish any of the
theirs to know about it, you understand,
nd feel | can trust you. Here are my
eys. This small one unlocks secret cup
oard in my study, which you viii fluid be-
ind the portrait Of my first wife that
angs over my writing table. Open the
cupboard ami take out my will and bring