The Sunday morning news. [volume] (Jersey City [N.J.]) 1886-1891, 1890-02-02
THOMAS TYLER'S TOMBSTONE

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coatinpca from Second Page.
yen May 60 to bed. You are tired, !
know, with your days work.
Nancy hesttated. 'Could the things
ibe moved back into my room, naarIng
she asked.
why, no, Nancy; don't see how
they can. You can get along for one
night, can't you've expect to get along
'snost anyhow in house cleaning time. T"
II don't mind anything about the rest,
Miss Dale. but it is outside.
sOh, the stonai Well, Nancy, it is too
heavy for you or me to lift, but when
Samuel comes home I'll ask him to step
mo and set it inside your door. VIII
that 90? Now go right to bed and to
sleep.''
She Lit her candle, and climbed the
stairs to her room over the kitchen. The
space at the top was crowded with tables
and chests and other articles belonging
to the upper regions Of the house, for
Mrs. Dale was in the nidstof a thorough
cleaning, Leaning against a bureau
close to the head OF the stairs stood Nam
cyss precious charge. She stopped to
lpass her hand over its polished surface,
.saurmuring some half articulate words
in her broken yeice--then passed into
her chamber.
Half an hour later, when Samuel Dale
returned from the postoffice, he had an
exciting story TO tell. The depot at Les
tiers Corners was robbed the night
before, and the thief had been tracked
half way to Barclay Farm.
$50 look out for your silver spoons,
Susie, said her husband, '.for the light
fingered gentry are among us.
Then she told of Nancy's fright, and
in her eagerness to see that every door
was fastened and the house made secure
for the night, quite forgot her promise
to the poor woman up stairs.
Nancy lay waiting a long time. and
when she slept at last it was a disturbed
and broken sleep, from which she was
suddenly Weakened by the sound of a
ssealshy step on the stairs. She felt
rather Than heard it approaching slowly,
cautiously, well nigh neiselessly. She
rose 10 her bed, holding her breath to
listen. Was it Mr.. Dale coming to full
fiji his wife's promise? Was it-oh hor-
ror, could it bette man whose face
had frightened her at the window? And
If he came 70 rob the house, what did it
contain half so valuable as the precious
charge to which she had that night for
the first time proved faithless2
it must have been some such train of
thought that passed through Nancy
Tyler's mind, and that caused the tinaid,
weak headed woman, who under ordi-
mary circumstances would hardly have
ventured to face d mouse, to rush to the
rescue of her treasure. She sprang
from her bed and crossed the room at a
bouud, and, throwing open her door,
stood face to face with man holding a
dark lantern in his hand In surprise
at iier sudden appearance he made a
backward sbep, lost his footing and
caught at the nearest support. 1t was
the tombstone. It shook--it tottered-
1t fell, and man and marble crashed
down the stairs together with q sound to
wake the dead. A moments stiffness
succeeded the 1proar, followed by the
sound Of voices and footsteps, and a
group Of frightened faces appeared in
the doorway.
The stairs were strewn with fragments
of the broken stone, and at the bottom
lay the motioniess body of a man. He
grasped in one hand Farmer Barclay q
well filed wallet, and Susie Dale's we'd
ding spoons prDtruded from bis pocket.
There was blood everywhere. The
stairs, the walls and pieces of marble
were sprinkied with it, and where the
mans head lay was pool that every in
slant increased in size. He was quite
dead, and they saw by CHASTITY wound
upon his head that sharp corner Of the
stone had cloven his scull.
When Samuel Dale turned the dead
mans face TO the light, he uttered an
exclamation of horror, for Thomas Ty-
ler's black eyes stared blindly in his
own, and his bps, parting, showed the
white teeth grinning in a ghastiy smile.
They bore away the body. and left a
woman on the bloodstained stair cropping
with feeble, moaning cries for the frag-
uaents of Thomas Tyler's tombstone