Catoctin clarion. [volume] (Mechanicstown, Md.) 1871-1940, 1890-08-07
A DEADLY SORROW.
BY A. II. SNORDRICKER.

y
detective friend of mine, committed su.
icide, remarked a Scotland Yard de-
tective, who had joined our party
around Il table in the Chelsea Gardens,
one hot evening, when half dozen OF
the force were gathered there.
Was he insane ? l asked.
The Scotland Yard detective blew
the froth from foaming tankard and
drank long and deep of the famous
brew and heaving sigh which was
expressive of the satisfaction which the
cooling draught had filled him. he re-
piled: No; it was a deadly sorrow"
Tell us the story
Il would that it were only story,
but If you gentlemen will keep quiet
and ask no questions until I get through,
l will do So
Go ahead, we're num-
All right! Booth St.ndeld was one
of the keenest men on the yard-a
strange man, but strong one among
the strong ones. In person he was
over six feet in height, and proportion
ed, and for muscular power he beat
anything | ever saw in my life. Yet,
somehow, in looking at his face could
not get over the thought that he had
suffered some great sorrow, or had some
great wrong to ayenge however, in the
latter supposltion l was entirely mis-
taken. | told him one day he seemed
to affect me.
Booth SAID l, triAe nervous, 4
may have presumed, if so, crave your
pardon; but the sorrow that sits upon
your face tells me that you are plning
under some great trouble-a trouble
that Is slowly destroying your life
Yes, Mort he replied, 4 have a
trouble-a lingering sorrow-that is
stealing my life away, and yet long to
die but see here, Mort, l must trust
some one or this thing will drive HE
mad
Booth, said I, if | can be of any
service oyou, I'm yours to command
He told me his story, which made all
impression on my mind that can only
be ctlaced by death, and will endeavor
to relate it in his own words.
THE DETECTIVES STORY.
One day I was bending over my desk,
in our chiefs office, writing busily when
all at once something fair and white
stood before me slim figure In float
ing draperies, a face that was perfect,
and pair of wondrous eyes gazing up
on me, while sweet, low voice asked
gently:
is nay father-is Mr.. Larrmer in p
Then as she observed my glance of sur
PRISE, she added 4 have just returned
from school, and must see papa. And
the sweet voice had a ring of impotence
in it.
Of course | provided her with seat
Mr.. Larrlmer would soon return, and
Miss Larrimer chose to wait for him.
Sitting there we chatted pleasantly and
before we scarcely realized it we were
on friendly terms.
A heavy footstep and then Lionel
Larrlmer, nay chief, the most naughty,
purse proud man in the great city,made
his appearance and had his daughter in
his arms, kissing her tenderly.
l stood aside until the meeting was
over, then noticed that the girl had
whispered something to her father; he
turned to me,
my daughter, Miss Lillian, Mr..
Booth Stanfeld!" he SAID hurliedly,
and there was careless indifference in
Mr.. Larrimer's tone that CALLED my
pride lnexpressibly-it was as though |
was an inferior and my presence just
tolerated.
Come Lillian, said her father, 'let
us 20 home. 1t is such comfort to
have you back again. Mr.. Stanfeld'-
turning to me carelessly-'you will
please call on Mr.. Mortimore and see
what you can learn from him about
that diamond robbery and report when
| return, an hour or so later
l bowed. Then Larrimer moved
away, and she, with bow and a sweet
smile followed her father.
'Ah, by the way he added, languid.
ly, as they were about to leave the Of
fee. MY daughter, Miss Lsrrimer,
intends giving reception on the Goth
instant and has invited YOU
bowed In acknowledgement. The
invitation was extended as one filings
bone ata dog.
Miss Larrimer is very kind | re-
sponded. i shall take pleasure in &C
cepting.