The Republican., 1890-09-26

to retreat, for the noise of the opening
of my room door would be the signal
for instant investigation by the already
suspicious Whitney, and mad no time
to suddenly assume my ordinary dis
gTise. There remained but one course
to pursue. 1t required the exercise of
the greatest caution and more courage
than l believed possessed.
"There was small empty room be-
yond the apartment of the Whitneys
which commanded full view of the
sick mans chamber. Once there l
should be comparatively safe.
but to reach it must pass the door
of the room where the Whitneys lay.
Carefully poising myself l essayed
to pass across the intervening space.
Slowly ] advanced, moving first one
limb and then another, hardly daring to
breathe, and feeling forward with my
hands outstretched lest 1 should sud-
denly encounter some unexpected OBJ
stacle.
81 had safely passed the open door of
the Whitneys' chamber, when I became
confused, and in the utter darkness lost
my way. Vainly | stretched out my
hands. AT last to my great JOY they
fell upon a door handle. l turned it
! softly and noiselessly and entered. AS
quickly and as noiselessly l closed it,
There was dull lighJ in the room. I
looked around and by its rays saw that
by mistake had entered the apartment
of my sick uncle.
''He was broad awake and sitting up
in bed staring at mo with two glaring,
awful eyes. The living image of my
mother, as he had known her in her
youth, and clad in my white night robe,
his diseased and distorted Imagination
completed the illusion.
MARY he gasped, do not come to
reproach me-
"'Hush! l whispered, fastening to
the bedside. Hush, uncle! Do not
make noise, for Gods sake
HE trembled violently. 4 do not
understand he said. vaguely, as one in
! a dream. His terror seemed to have de-
parted at the touch OF my hand.
Listen said. i am not Mary,
your sister. l am her daughter. We
heard you were very i'll and wished to
see us, so mother and l came to town.
| We have been here for weeks trying to
see you, but they kept us away. Don't
be frightened at what am going to tell
you. The Whitneys are not your
friends. They are giving you improper
medicine. Don't take it, uncle, for
Heavens sake. It's poison"'
Poison! Oh: you don't mean that;
and Sam Whitney, too, my old partner
"'Yes, uncle, ] do mean it, and L m
here at the risk of my life to tell you.
Hark, he's coming now to give you your
medicine. Pretend to take it, but don't
swallow it. It's arsenic
"A dreadful expression passed over
the face of the old man; but even in
that moment he thought of my safety.
"'Hide, child, hide, he whispered, and
he pointed to the closet.
From there | witnessed what con-
firmed my suspicious. 1t was Samuel
Whitney who poured the draught which
my uncle pretended and did not drink.
Subsequent analysis has. you know,
proved it to be a most deadly poison.
| Horror stricken at the enormity of this
| mans crime, with the knowledge that
instant death awaited the penetration
of my disguise, / awaited only the COM
| ing of daylight 20 pick a quarrel with
my mistress, which resulted in my in
slant dismissal. left her house to re-
port at police headquarters, but some-
thing had alarmed the Whitneys. When
the officers, reached the house the birds
had flown.
MY uucle has been dead a year. My
mother, sole heir to his considerable es-
tates, lives surrounded, as you see, by
every luxury. AS am only twenty-five,
and am quite wealthy in my own right,
presume l am Co be envied. Austin
w. Granville, in Chicago Journal.
Robinson Crusoe-"Wcil, Friday,
what have we for dinner to-day?' FRI
day-"Goat soup, goat chops, boiled
goat, roast goat" Robinson Crusoe--
| GHDon'E Friday I can,t uO'tPJ