Abilene weekly reflector. [volume] (Abilene, Kan.) 1888-1935, 1891-11-05
THE SPENT BALL.
By T. S. KNEEDLER

! there would be possibility that
might be in error, 1t happened only
four months ago."
"Of course you would have no diff
Guilty in finding plenty of people i
( Memphis who would substantiate wlg'
you say"
al could have hundred here in few
days, and have already telegraphed for
one, an old newspaper associate art
mutual friend"
''Then what is the mans object in
keeping up this comedy, or rather tra-
gedyyo
''That 1 know not, unless it is possible
that he is insane"
HE talks too nationally for that, and J
fear you could have little hope of coz
vincing a medical jury that he was II
compos mentis. Do you know of no !.
son why he should be unwilling that
real identity should be Known
None, though have suspected {
there was something in his life he wish
to conceal"
Then related my endeavors to prob
Brighan's past, and his strange declara
ton that he had no past. We talked for
an hour or more, and returned to m
hotel more perplexed than ever to try in
vain to sleep, while momentarily grew
more gravely apprehensive that back Of
all this strange drama there was dark
spot which sooner or later would be re-
vealed.
Jones arrived in the morning, as 1 ex-
IL l. l. H.,
nonchalant, jovial, self assertive Jones.
He had a way of saying that he al
ways fell on his feet, and he had
come to have very creditable assur-
ance that he always would fall ON his
feet. But in spite of that he was clever
fellow and had plenty of heart. You can
imagine his surprise when l narrated all
that had occurred-my discovery of our
quondam comrade, his denial of his
identity, the scene in the court and my
interview with the judge.
"Whew!' said Jones, with a long
whistle, isn't he hummer! But never
mind, We'll bring him to his feed. The
man has gone daft, that's what's the
matter with him. We must have De
Costa"
"Who is De Costa:'
CDR. J. Sebrin De Costa is the great
expert upon diseases of the brain. His
testimony has sent more men to the in
sane asylum instead of the Jail or the
gallows, where they belonged, than anv
other man in the country. But no com
mon criminal can fool De Costa for any
length of time. Oh, he has it down fine"
First want to try this photo graph,
said. Il have an idea that will move
him, for know he loved Emily Percival
very dearly"
Eyes, that may fetch him if you spring
it on him suddenly" said Jones. Lets
go and see the gay youth. It's barely
possible he may have forgotten you, bat
it isn't likely that once having known
the only original Jones the honor would
slip his mind"
We were admitted TO the Jail readily
enough. 1t was an awful place in which
to keep white man or any other human
being. Like all the parish prisons at that
time, it was horribly out of repair and
reeking with filth. Its tenants were
chiefly negroes, confined for petty mis-
demeanors or for alleged attractions of
the law. The white keepers were op
posed to doing any more fo- the comfort
of their charges than the necessities Of
the case. demanded, and the exigency
that demanded an observance of sanitary
conditions was not usually a pressing one
in their eyes. 1t was good deal cheaper
to bury prisoners than to feed and house
them properly.
Brigham occupied a cell a shade cleaner,
than the rest-reserved, doubtless, for
guests who were distinguished for the
enormity of their offenses. When We
approached the grated door he was sit
ting on a small box, which served him
for a stool, his arms folded over his
knees, his head resting upon them. The
abject misery Of his position touched me
to the quick. Jones felt it, too, or he
would have been more abrupt in his
greeting. As it was he went in when
the turnkey threw open the door, and
laying his hand upon the prisoners
shoulder said, Brigham, old man, 1
have come all the way from Memphis to
see you"
Brigham lifted his head, and with
that contraction of the brows which ex-
presses mental perplexity, said, "Why
do you all persist in calling me by
name do not know
Because it was the name she knew
you by" 1 replied, quickly drawing the
photograph of Emily Percival from my
pocket and holding it before him. He
took it from my hand and turned it
about curiously to get a better light
upon it. Then he looked at it long and
intently, and said slowly and almost III
the tone of one who thinks rather than
talks aloud: "a beautiful face. A beau
tiful face. That is the likeness of a good
woman. Who is she:''
There was no installing either the
candOr or the intelligence of the inquiry.
Jones drew in his breath quickly, like a
man who has been under sudden and
great mental pressure. took the photo
graph and replied with as much compos-
ure as could command:
'She is woman who was engaged TO
be married to very good friend of
mine"
And why didn't he marry herr he
asked.
Because" 1 made answer, ''some
devil we know not of stole his brains
away and made him forget her and his
pledge"
HE was unworthy of her." said the
prisoner thoughtfully. ''She was too
sweet woman to merit such fate"