Wheeling Sunday register. [volume] (Wheeling, W. Va.) 1882-1934, 1891-08-23


and then polluted to the dead man, who
was still graspine the weapon. Come"
He caught the half-paralyzed arm Of
Flint and dragged him into the street.
"But," stammered the Mortified Flint,
as he was borne along, "what does 1t
all mean? What made that man attack
me?"
II reckon it was case of shooting on
sight, Mr.. Fowler; but he missed 1t by
not waiting to see II 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" persisted the unhappy Flint,
81 never laid my eyes on the man be-
fore, and my name isn't Fowler"
Flynn halted, and dragged him in
doorway. "Who the devil are you?" he
asked roughly.
Briefly, passionately, almost hysteri-
cally, Flint told him his scant story.
An odd expression came over the gam
bler's face.
Look here" he said abruptly, 81
have passed the word TO the crowd yon-
der that you are dead-broke miner
called Fowler. I allowed that you
might have had some row with that
Sydney duck, Australian Pete, In the
mines. That satisfied them. II 1 go
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 you, and wash
their hands OF it all together. You may
prove to the police who you are, and
how that Id clerk mistook you, but
IL will give you trouble. And who Is
there here who knows who you really
are?"
Not one" said Flint, with sudden
hopelessnesS.
"And you say you're an orphan, and
amt got any rela tives Twin that you're
beholden top
"NO one"
'''Then take my advice and be Fowler
and stick to it! Be Fowler until Fowler
turns up and thanks to you for it, for
you've saved Fower's life, rs Pete
would never have funked and lost his
grit over Fowler as he did with you;
and you've a right to his name"
He stopped, and the same odd, super
stitious look came into his dark eyes.
Don't you see what that all means?
Well, I'll tell you. You're In the big
gest streak of luck a man ever had.
You've got the cards in your own hands.
They spell Fowler Play Fowler first,
last and all the time. Good night and
good luck, Mr.. Fowler"
The next mornings journal contained
an account of the UNSUITABLE killing OF
the notorious desperate and ex-convict,
Australian Pete, by a courageous young
miner Dy the name OF Fowler. "An act
OF frmness and DARING" said the
Pioneer, (which will go far to counter
act the terrorism produced by those
lawless ruffians."
In his new suit of clothes and with
this paper in his hand, Flint sought the
dry goods proprietor-the latter was
satisfied and convinced. That morning
Harry Flint began his career as sales
man and as "Shelby Fowler"
From that day Shelby Fowler's ca
reer was one Of uninterrupted prosperi-
ty. Within the year he became part
ner. The same miraculous fortune fol-
lowed other ventures later. He was
mill owner, mine owner, bank director
"a millionaire! He was popular, the
reputation of his brief achievement over
the desperate kept him secure from the
attacks of envy and rivalry. 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 quite forgotten his
Youthful past, and even the more recent
lucky pOrtmanteau; remembered moth
ing, perhaps but the pretty face OF the
daguerreOtype that had fascinated him.
There seemed to be no reason why he
should not live and die as Shelby
Fowler.
His business a 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
deposited his portmanteau in a COM
partment, reappeared at the window
followed by a young lady in mourning.
BEG pardon, sir, but l handed you
the wrong portmanteau. That belongs
to this young lady. This is yours.
Flint glanced at the portmanteau on
the seat before him. 1t certainly was
not his, although it bore the initials
IS. F." He was mechanically hand
ing it back to the porter, when his
eyes fell on the young lady's face.
For an instant he stood petrifed. 1t
was the face OF the daguerreOtype.
Il beg pardon" he stammered,
'but are these your initials?" She
hesitated; perhaps it was the abruptness
of the question, but he saw she was con-
fused. ''No. A friends" She disap-
peared into another carriage, but from
that moment Harry Flint knew that he
had no other aim in life than to follow
this clue and the beautiful girl who had
dropped it. He bribed the guard at the
next station, and discovered that she
was going TO York. On their arrival he
was ready on the platform to respect
fully assist her. A few words disclosed
the fact that she was fellow country
woman, although residing in England,
and at present on her way to join some
friends at Harrogate. Her name was
West. At the mention Of this he again
fancied she looked disturbed.
They met again and again; the in
formallty OF his introduction was over
looked by her friends, as his assumed
name was already respectfully and re-
sponsibly known beyond California. He
thought no more of his future. He was
In love. Heeven dared to think it might
be returned; but he felt he had no right
TO seek that knowledge until he had
told her his real name and how he came
To assume another's. He did so alone
scarcely month after their first meet
ing. To his alarm, she burst into a
flood of tears, and showed an agitation