Burlington weekly free press. [volume] (Burlington, Vt.) 1866-1928, 1891-12-24
CHAPTER XIV.
LOWERING SKIES.

The events Of the morning gave Dori
son food for thought After Cathcart
had departed he dawdled about the
hotel as he endeavored to extract some
intelligence from these events serving
to justify the confidence displayed by
the old detective that the end was in
sight.
The result was not satisfactory. Ev-
erything was fragmentary.
"Whetber this is due" he said aloud,
as he sat and pondered, "to the misery
and fragmentary manner in which Cath
cart deals out his information, or wheth-
er it is the exact condition Of the case,
am utterly at loss to determine. |
know, however, it is utterly unsatisfac-
tory, and unless something more posi-
tive turns up within the next fortnight
will throw up my commission. SO far
as am able to see, not one step has
been made, nor one single fact gathered
that brings us nearer to the end, the ac-
complishment of which is the only justi-
fcation for my being involved in it at
all"
He got up and walked into the street.
AS he went up Broadway he said:
What will do will be to see Mr..
Nettleman and have Il talk with him.
That much is due him, ;nl | have not
seen him for two weeks. I'll do it this
very afternoon. The life | an leading
y unbearable.'
He did not go that afternoon, how
ever, for on reaching his rooms he
found his friend Eustace in possession.
Il have been waiting SO long for you,"
he cried, that | have come to believe
these apartments are mine. Do you
know, like them better than my own
"Then perhaps you may obtain
them" said Dorison.
why What does that mean"
ut means, Eustace, that YOU see a
Disguised aud contemplate creature be-
fore you am half persuaded to cut
this life and go back to Dubuque"
Something has gone wrong, ma
chere. The blues, ell? l have them
sometimes myself"
MY trouble is far greater than the
blues" said Dorison, throwing himself
at full length upon the lounge, and
looking at Eustace fixedly for some time.
Il wonder, Charley" he said at length,
"if there will be a time when You will
regard me with bitterness and con-
tempt-when you will never be able to
think of me without loathiny and hor-
ror."
"What condition Of mind are you in
today"
1.-The confessional, although l shall
make no confession. Perhaps all these
dark and gloomy vapor5 will pass away
and the bright sunbeams play over us
both. Whether any sunlight, however,
will ever irradiate my life again great
ly doubt. Charley, my boy, | am a
monomanaic. | have but one purpose
in life, and to that am bending very
thing, sacrificing everything - l.ome,
comfort, honor and friends. Beware Of
me! am not what | seem on the sur
face. During my life have never met
any one of either sex to whom | have
been so much attracted as have been to
you-no one Of whom have been SO
FOND. ct, ny boy, heed ,3e. If yOu
should ruu counter TO this HE purpose
of mine SO completely have | become its
slave, believe | world sacrifice You. |
say again, beware Of me! Holl me off
at arms length. Do not give ne a single
advantage. God knows that when | am
in the mood am now pray fervently
that the friendship we have formed
within the past few weeks may ripen
with our days, strengthen with our
years, and be still hale when our heads
are gray But tell you, old man. and
he rose from the lounge in his earnest
ness, 1.-The day is coming when that
friendship will be put to as severe test
as friendship ever was
Eustace, who had regarded Dorison
seriously, said:
Il think you are in frame Of mind
which either is the result of serious
physical arrangement, or great mental
tribulation. If it is the i.t,er, and |
apprehend it is, ! advise You to take i'm
mediate steps toward remedy. And in
such cases take IL the best remedy Is
to pour out your condolences to some
friend you can trust"
There are some things that must be
borne alone" replied Dorison with a
sigh. "Mine is one. For eight years
have borne them
"And alone, nursing them," interrupt
ed Eustace. THAT is just it,"