The Vermont watchman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1883-1911, 1891-08-26


unknown assailant could fire again the
astonished Flint had closed with him
and instinctivelv clutched the weapon.
A brief but violent struggle ensued.
Flint felt his strength failing him, when
suddenly a look of establishment came
into the furious eyes of his adversary
and the mans grasp mechanically re-
Taxed. The half-freed pistol, thrown
upward by this movement, was acct
dentally discharged pointbank into his
temple and he fell dead. No one in the
crowd had stirred or interfered.
"You've done for French Pete this
time, Me-. Fowler" said voice at his
elbow. He turned gaspingly, and re-
cognized his strange benefactor, Flynn.
call you all to witness, gentlemen"
continued the gambler, turning dictato-
rally to the crowd, " that this man was
first attacked, and was unarmed." He
lifted Flint's limp and empty hands,
and then pointed to the dead man, who
was still grasping the weapon. "Comel"
lie caught the half-pa~alyzed arm of
Flint and dragged him into the street.
But" stammered this Mortified Flint,
as he was borne along, "what does it
all mean? What made that man attack
me?"
Il reckon it was a case of shooting
on sight, Mr.. Fowler; but he missed it
by not waiting to see if you were armed.
1t wasn't the square thing, and you're
all right with the crowd now, whatever
he might have had agin you"
" But" protested the unhappy Flint,
81 never laid eyes on the man before,
and my name isn't Fowler"
Flynn halted, and dragged him in a
doorway. "Who are you?n he asked
roughly. Briefly, passionately, almost
Historically, Flint told his scant story.
An odd expression came over the
gamblers face.
Look here" he said abruptly, "
have passed the word to the crowd yon-
der that you are dead-broke miner
have had some row with the Sydney
duck, Australian Pete, in the mines.
That satisfied them. If 90 back now
and say it's lie, that your name amt
Fowler, and you never knew who Pete
was, they'll jest pass you over to the
police to deal with, and wash their
hands of it altogether. You may prove
to the police who you are, and how that
clerk mstook you, but it will give YOU
trouble. And who is there here who
knows who you really are?"
No one" said Flint, with sudden
hopelessness.
"And you say you're an orphan, and
amt got any relations livin' that you're
beholden to?'
" No one"
Then take my advice and be Fowler,
and stick to it. Be Fowler until Fowler
turns up and thanks you for it; for
you've saved Fowler's life, as Pete
would never have funked and lost his
grit over Fo Yler as he di with you
and you've a ri ght to his name"
He stopped, and the same odd super
stitious look came into his dark eyes.
Don't you see what all that means?
Well, I'll tell you. You're in the big
gest streak of luck a man ever had.
Good night and good luck, Mr.. Fowler"
The next mornings j)urnal contained
an account of the iustifable killing of
the notorious desperate and eX. convict
Australian Pete, by a courageous
young miner by the name of Fowler.
/" An act of frmness and daring" said
the Pioneer, which will 90 far to
] \
| those lAwess ruflians." In his new
suit of clothes, and with this paper in
his hand, Flint sought the y-goods
proprietor; the latter was satisfied and
convinced. Tha' morning II larry Flint
began his career as salesman and as
"Slelby Fowler.
From that day Shelby Fowler's career
was one Of uninterrupted prosperity.
Within the yelr he became partner.
The same miraculous fortune followed
other ventures lat-r. He was mill
owner, mine owner, bank director-a
millionaire! He was popular, the repu.
tatiou of his brief achievement over
the desperate kept him secure from the
attack of envy ami riv Try. He never
was confronted by the real Fowler.
There was no danger of exposure by
others-the one custodian of his secret,
Tom Flynn, died in Nevada the year
following. He had qui'e forgotten his
youthful past, and even the more re-
cent lucky portmanteau; remembered
nothing, perhaps, but the pretty face of
the daguerreotvpc that had fascinated
| him. There seemed to be no reason
why he should not live and die as Shelby
| Fowler. His business year later took
him to Europe. He was entering a
train at one OF the great railway stations
of London, when the porter, who had
just depcs'te his portmantea1 il a
compartment, reappea"ed at the win
dow followed by young laly in
mourning.
Beg pardon, sir, but | handed You
the wrong portmanteau. That belongs
TO this young lady. This is yours"
Flint glanced at the portma1teau on
the seat before him. 1t certainly was
not his, although it bore the initials
S. F." He was mechanically hand
lag it back to the porter, when his eyes
fell on the young lady's face. For an
instant he stood pe;riied. 1t was the
face of the dague reotype. 81 beg pa
DON" he stammered, "but are these
your initials?' She hesitated; perhaps
it was the abrubtness of the question,
but he saw she was confused. "No.