Wheeling Sunday register. [volume] (Wheeling, W. Va.) 1882-1934, 1891-05-24


mans head swung over loosely to the
right; his neck was broken; he wa,
quite dead. Keppel got on bis feet,
standing on the side of the car. His
eyes becoming accustomed to the dark
ness discovered the feet Of another man
protruding upward from mass of
debris. Just then fash of lightning
revealed his face; it was that OF the
other officer. His body was crushed to
pulp by the ragged end of a broken
beam.
Keppel waited a moment to collect
his thoughts. In the midst of the hor-
ror and chaos surrounding him spasm
of hope and joy caught his heart and he
laughed aloud. His brain became in an
instant preternaturally clear; he saw
what he must do, and realized that no
time was to be lost in doing it.
STOPPING over the body Of the detect
i've, he felt in the pockets of his clothes,
and in a minute found a key-the key
that unlocked the handouts. He APP
piled it; the next moment he was free.
But he was not safe yet; there could
be no safety as long as there remained
any probability Of pursuit. Keppel
looked around him.
Wedged between two seats on the OPP
posite side of the aisle, which in the
present position of the car was on an
incline plane above him, was body
whose right arm, hanging downward,
was within Keppel's reach as he stood.
He took hold of the hand; it was limp
and clammy-the hand of a corpse.
Bracing his feet against some fragments
OF wreck, he grasped the body round the
waist and dragged it from It's position.
young man in whom he had fancied a
resemblance TO himself.
He had been killed by mass of metal
which had struck him in the face,
crushing in the features and the front
of the brain. Except that the counte-
nance was thus rendered utterly un-
recognizable, the body seemed unin-
jured. Keppel chuckled. you have
died to save me-" he said, sat the right
moment and in the right way. May
your soul have peace, brother"
As quickly as possible he removed the
dead mans coat and waiStcoat and eX-
changed them for his own, putting the
latter upon the corpse. Then, drawing
the lifeesS arm into a suitable position,
he passed the free handcuff round the
wrist aud sprung the lock. The body
was now chained to that of the dead de-
tective. You must submit to be mis-
taken for murderer, my good follow"
he muttered. You will never know it;
and, besides, / am innocent-if that is
any consolation TO you. So now-gOod
by"
Clambering out of the wreck, he
stood upon the track beside the shat
tered train. He could vaguely see peo-
pie moving about or standing in groups.
The noise Of escaping steam had ceased,
but the groans of the wounded and
dying passengers could still be heard
internationally. A figure approached
him carrying lantern. 1t was one of
the brakemen.
care you hurt sir?" he said, pausng.
"Only few bruises, replied Keppel.
"But | believe most of the others in
our car were killed. And, by the way,
there was an odd thing"
"What was that, sir?"
"Why, there was a prisoner aboard
he was handcuffed to an officer they
were taking him to Sing Sing, | sup
pose"
"Why, that was the fellow that killed
Harry Trent What became OF him?
Il was sitting in the seat next him.
He's lying there stone dead, and the de-
tective'S with him. His life impriSon-
ment didn't last longm
Dead, is hep" said the brakeman.
"Well, il was he, I'd rather be killed
in moment in railway accident than
live fifty years in prison. Some said,
though, that he never murdered Trent.
But | guess he got his deserts"
mo doubt of it. Well, good night.
shall walk on to Tarrytown
Good night, sir.
Keppei stepped off up the track. He
had no settled plan of flight, but so long
as he did not meet any one who knew
him he felt lettle or no apprehension. In
the belief of the world, tomorrow morn
in he would be dead; his obituary would
be read in the papers by millions of peo-
pie. Nevertheless it behooved him to
keep out Of sight, and as soon as might
be, TO make whatever changes were pos
sble in his personal appearance. He
would cut his hair-he might be able to
bleach it, perhapS-he would let his
beard grow. He must move ont Of the
country, too; if he could contrve to get
to Europe so much the better. He
must take another name, and look for
ward to life under totally changed
conditions. A new life, lonely life.
Henceforth all his old friends and ac-
quaintances were his deadliest enemies.
All but one! Olympia had said that she
believed in him; that she loved him, and
would marry none but him. Aye, but
she, with the rest of the world, would
obliterates all things-memory and
love and the rest. But what II
he should send her secret mes
sage or sign informing her of his safety.
He paused in his walk to reflect. No,
it would not do. as the message might
mscarry; and, if not, what avail tC
write to her. She could not come to
him. They could not get married and
go off together. To know that he was
alive might give her happiness for a
moment, but in the long run it could
only make her, miserable. Moreover,
money would be indispensable,
and where was it to come from? He
might still paint pictures, it was
true, but it would not be safe to do so
in this country; and as to Europe-It
was better to select some other pro-
fession Yet what profession could
bring the immediate returns that were
necessary? Robbery was the only one,
and there were objections to that. How
was he to procure the means Of buying
his next meal?
A sudden thought caused him to
search the pockets of his coat and waist
coat-the garments which he had taken
! from the dead man.