San Antonio daily light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1886-1907, 1891-06-08
An Absorbing Sto1q
American Life and Love,

heard in the distance, and light ap-
pears, carried in the hand of the faithful
caretaker, who, with his wife, maintains
guard in the basement. Strictly speak
ing, of course, Harry will not pass the
night alone, nor, perhaps, can a man of
his business and social Importance ever
hope to escape entirely from the knowl-
edge and supervision of his fellows. 1t
was possible that several persons might
know of or suspect his present where
abouts. But, on the other hand care
takers can hardly be said TO count as &C.
cupants, and if a man believes his move
ments to be untraced, he is just as con-
tent, for the time being, as though they
really were so.
You're not doing at your post, see,
sergeant" says Harry, for the man was
q veteran of the war. Glow is Mrs.
Simpson,"
In good health, sir, and thank zee; we
wasn't looking for you so late"
"The fact is, sergeant, I've come to
spend the night. Is the bed ready"
1T is, sir, and a good fire in the
CRATE"
That's right! want to find out, you
see, what sort of dreams the new house
will give me-"
MAY they be good ones, sir; you'll
come honestly by 'em. If any one calls
will let 'em in?'
well, visitors are not ikelyto be FIRE,
quent this evening. This is something in
the way of scout reconnaissance, you
understand. However, if any one does
come it will be on particular business,
should suppose; so they may come up"
every good, sir You'll not be turning
in quite yet, sir?''
mo, not for two or three hours, prob,
ably. Good night"
Good night, sir, and a pleasant awak.
ening!'
With the dawn of the next day came
snow, covering the roof of the new house
and the stone steps of the entrance and
the vacant avenue. Sergeant Simpson
aroused himself betime, and having filled
coal scuttle with coal mounted the
stairs to the door of the library, which
communicated with the chamber in
which Harry Trent was to have slept.
The library door was ajar and the ser
geant was surprised to see the light of
the gas within still burning. Had the
master fallen asleep in his chair? He
knocked softly, and then there being no
hn tn ba
door and enter.
The gashght falling on the broad ia
BILE that stood near the fireplace cast a
shadow over the hearth rug, 50 that the
sergeant did not at first see what lay
there. He noticed that the last embers
were expiring In the CRATE, but as he
stepped round the corner of the table he
started, and the coal scuttle fell from his
hand with a crash. Stretched out on the
rug, but in an oddly constrained posi-
ton, lay the form Of Harry Trent.
The noise of the falling scuttle did not
rouse him; indeed, the sergeant, with
the practiced eye of soldier, had per
ceived in a moment that he was dead.
But he thought that the man had died
from stroke of the heart or of apoplexy.
He was not prepared for the further rev.
citation, and as lie realized it groan OF
horror burst from him.
From the back of the neck, little to
the left, protruded the hilt of knife or
dagger, curiously carved. The rug was
soaked with blood. Harry Trent had
not died natural death, nor had he
slain himself He had been murdered.