The Salt Lake herald. [volume] (Salt Lake City [Utah]) 1870-1909, 1891-07-12

Softened light comes through the cur
tanned windows on either side Of the street;
carriages rumble up and down over the
uneven pavement ever and anon pausing
to set down their occupants at carpeted
doorway. At Thirty sixth street Harry
pauses again, and before his mind rises the
picture OF the young Olympia, figure OF
youth, health and arch intelligence, who is
even now, perhaps. thinking of him, only
few doors away. Shall he go in and pass
the evening there, He nearly yields to the
suggestion, and takes step or two in that
direction. But MOI he had promised him.
self something different; he will see
resumes his walk. Yet Olympia was
really thinking OF him at that moment and
to-morrow-well. To- morrow sometimes
means never.
No such reflection disturbs Harry Trent.
The exercise has warmed his blood, and
his heart is light. The constant success Of
his life had its effect upon him. He does
not believe that misfortune can overtake
him. Mortal man seldom or never lives TO
Harry's age without having done some
thing that he ought not to have done. Yet
he has done much good in the world. His
reputation among his fellows is unfair
nished. If he has enemies they have not
declared themselves. But has he an
enemy. AT any rate, he fears none. Like
other fortunate men, he has faith in his
star; like them, too, ne forgets the legend
Of CrPsus.
BY this time he has passed beyond the
most thickly settled portion of fashionable
New York; the rumble of carriages is less
frequent, and there are gaps between the
houses. Foot passengers are few. His
steady footsteps are echoed distinctly from
the frozen pavement. His shadow only
attends him as he walks, now lengthening
starting out ahead of him. Darker shad-
Ows gather in the side streets. AS he
reaches the park something seems to de-
tach itself from the darkness on the left
and move forward to where a broken
boarding bespread with gaudy placard
announced the appearance of favorite
actress in the tragic drama of ''Leah, I"
provides a convenient screen. Harry
Trent passes steadily on and the shadow
follows him.
And now, at length, the goal of the little
journey is in sight. There stands the new
house, solid and shapely on its strong
foundations, built to last and to be the
abode of prosperity and happiness. AS
Harry Trent approaches il he slackens his
pace, and proud glow of proprietorship
expands his breast. He sees, as in swift
vision, the prospective of the years to
come. Within these four walls is TO begin
the long succession of a happy prosperity.
Rich, powerful and peaceful, they shall
take their place as the best type of the
foremost nation OF the earth. The women
shall be beautiful and bountiful. the men
eminent and honorable, friends of the
great and great themselves. The house of
Trent, 1t stands dark and empty now, but
the hour is at hand when its windows shall
be Illuminated and It's doors opened, and
all the city come to do 1t homage.
There is pleasure for an imaginative
mind in doing privately and, as il were, by
stealth things that ordinary persons would
make no secret about Harry Trent, in
spite OF his proved and practical business
sagacity, has lively imagination; and, as
the miser steals OF TO count his money, or
the lover to serenade his lady love, so
had Harry become infatuated with the
idea OF spending an unsupported night in
his new house. He would not shars with
any other that virgin experience, and it
would be agreeable In after years, amid
the stir and voices of an overlooking fam
lily and social life, to LOOK back upon the
first night of solitude and meditation.
With an inward smile OF satisfaction, &C
cordingiy, Harry Trent asceads the steps
and puts his key into the lock. The door
yields before him and swings on boiseless
hinges, but as he closes it the hollow sound
resounds through the darkness. Here
upon, presently, steps are heard in the
hand of the faithful careteker, who, with
his wife, maintains guard in the basement.
Strictly speaking, OF course, Harry will
not pass the night alone, nor, perhaps, can
a man of his business and social import
ance ever hope to escape entirely from the
knowledge 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 occu-
pants, and If q man believes his movements
to be untraced, he is just as content, for
the time being as though they really were
so.
YOU'RE not doing at your post, I see,
sergeant" says Harry, for the man was a
son."
I'm good health, sir, and thank'ee; we
wasn't looking for you so late.'
1.-The fact is. sergeant, Eve come to
spend the night. Is the bed ready!"
sit is sir, and 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 win /
let 'em in!''
"Well, visitors are not likely to be fire.
quent this evening. This is something of
scout reconnaissance, you understand.
However, if anyone does come, il will be
on particular business, l 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
"a Of rf.av
ald 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 10 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 sergeant was surprised to see
light of the gas within still burning. Had
the master fallen asleep in his chair. He
knocked softly, and then, there being no
response, he ventured 10 push open the
door and enter.
The gaslight falling on the broad table
that stood near the fireplace cast a shadow
over the hearth rug, Sc 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 around the
corner of the table he started, and the coal
scuttle fell from his hand wit. a crash.
out on the rug, but in an oddly
position, 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 perceived 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 revelation. and
as he realized it a groan of horror burst
from him.
From the back of the neck, little to the
left, protruded the hilt of knife or dagger,
carvad The r-uU tvaC c0alai