Custer weekly chronicle. [volume] (Custer City, S.D.) 1890-1931, 1891-05-16

shaken, not so much with horror at a
murderous deed, as with CONSERVATION
that his lifelong secret had been discov-
cred by one man, and might, sooner or
later, be discovered by others. lie did
not put implicit faith even in Monk; it
was his nature to trust nobody where
money was concerned.
AS to returning back to the cave until
he had quite recovered his equanimity
that was out of the question. Even by
daylight he avoided the spot with a holy
horror. Only in his dreams, which were
dark and troubled, did he visit ito
see the face of the murdered man in the
darkness, and the hand of the murdered
man pointing at him with cold, decay
ing finger.
The day after the murder he had been
greatly unsettled by visit from Tim
Linney, who demanded news of his
master, and said that he had not return
ed to the caravan all night. Tim SEEM
ed greatly troubled, but gave vent ton
very violent ebullitions of grief When
lie was gone Matt sat by the fireside,
and looked long and keenly at William
Jones.
What are you staring at?" cried he,
fdgeting uneasily under her gaze.
"Nowt," said Matt; Il were only Won
dering---"
"Then don't 60 wondering" exclaim-
ed the good man rather inconsistently.
You mind your own business, and don't
be fool!"
And he turned testify and gazed at
the fire. But Matt, whose eyes were
full Of curious light, was not to be
abashed.
Amt you well, William Jonesy" she
asked.
I'm well enough am"
Its queer, amt it, that the painter
chap never come homer"
How should knowP' growled Will
liam. Maybe he's gone back to where
he come from"
"Or maybe he's drownedp Or maybe
summat else has happened to him?'
suggested Matt.
Never mind him, my gal. He's all
right, never fear. And if he amt, it's
no affair o. yours, or mine neither. You
go along out and play"
Matt went out as directed, and it was
some hours before she returned She
found her guardian seated in his old
place by the fire, looking at vacancy.
He started violently as she entered, and
made clutch at the rude piece of ships
iron which served as poker.
BE 1t you, Matt2 Lor', how you
startled me! 1 were-I were--taking q
doZe"
I've been up yonder," said Matt.
up wheerp"
up to the painter chaps cart. lie
amt come back; and the man is search
ing for him all up and down the place"
Fortunately 1t was very dark, so that
she could not see the expression of her
hearers face. She walked to the fire.
place, and, taking box of lucifers from
lodge, began to procure a light, with
the view of igniting the rushlight fixed
to the table. But in moment William
blew out the match, and snatched the
box from her.
What are you doin' Off" he cried.
wasting the matches, as if they cost
nowt. You'll come to the workus afore
you're DONE"
The days passed, and there was no
news of the absent man. Every day
Matt went up to the caravan to make
inquiries. At last, one afternoon, she
returned, looking greatly troubled; her
syss sys ssng we're red, too, a. If she had been
whats the matter nows" demanded
William, who had left his usual seat
and was standing at the door.
@Nowt,' said Matt, wiping her eyelids
with the back of her hand.
Don't you tell no lies. You've heerd
summat? Stop! What's that theer un-
der your army"
All at once he had perceived that she
carried large roll of something wrap
ped in brown paper. He took it from
her and opened it neryously. 1t was
the crayon portrait of herself executed
by the defunct artist.
@Who gave you this here?" cried VIII
liam Jones, trembling more than ever.
Tim"
"Who's hey"
"Him as come looking arter his mas
ter. The painter chap amt found; and
now Tins goin' away in the cart to tell
his friends. And he gave me this--my
pictur'; he gives me it to keep. His
master said / were to have it; and
mean to keep 1t now he's dead!"
William Jones handed back the pict-
ure, and seemed relieved, indeed, when
1t was out of his hands.
@Deady" he muttered, not meeting
Mats eyes, but looking right out to
sea. who told you he were deadY'
Matt did not reply, but gazed at Will
liam so long and so significantly that
the good man, conscious other scrutiny,
turned and plunged into the darkness
of his dwelling.
An hour later loud voice summon
ed him forth. lie went TO the door,
and there was Monk of Monkshurst. It
was the first time they had met since
they parted on the night of the murder.
Monk was dressed in dark summer
suit, and looked unusually spick and
span.
Where's the girlp" he cried, after a
whispered colloquy Of some minutes.
Matt, where are youY'
In answer to the call Matt appeared
at the door. No sooner did she perceive
Monk than she trembled violently, and
went very pale.
Come here, Matt" he said, with an
insinuating smile. "Seel I've brought
something for you-something pretty
for you to wear"
As he spoke he drew from his waist
coat pocket small gold ring, set with
turquoise stones. But Matt still trem-
bled, and shrank away.
Il don't want it--I sha'n't wear it."
she cried.
Nonsense, Matt!' said Monk. 2Why,
it's a ring fit for a lady. Come, let me
put ii OH your finger"
So great seemed her agitation, so
deep her dread of him, that she could
not stir; so that when he approached,
laughing, and caught her round tho
waist, he slipped the ring on her finger
before she could resist. But it only re-
manned there q moment. With quick,
aharr cry eha fora haraalf froa and