St. Landry democrat., 1892-07-23

of this inquiry:
"Have YOU ever had it since you lent it
to young Mr. Mildon?'
Her husband thought not, DOW he !
came to think Of it. TaIford struck into
the conversation: What was the ham |
mer like:'
80, not an ordinary hammer-a watch
makers hammer ike this. and the
shopkeeper produced tool which Tai
ford saw at once was we'll adapted tn
produce those fatal and peculiar wounds
which had aroused so much speculation
"Do YOU use these tools much!' he
asked careless ".
"Not very much, or | should have
missed my best one sooner. | should
think it is nearly year since lent it to
Mr. Mildon."
That signifies that it had been in his
possession for somo time betere the
murders.
TaIford took leave of the friendly
shopkeeptr and hnstcned away. His
old impression was now rs vivid as ever,
and he had something more tangible to
bnck it, He was resolved on bold
stroke. He would take counsel with no.
body, but would venture Il greal deal and
win or lose oil.
| lIo put pair of handouts in his
! pocket and made q comrade accompany
him on Il piece of important business.
They wendell their way to the street
whore the younger Mr. MiIdou lived in
lodgings which he had occupied for
| long while. Taford left his comrade to
, wait on the pavement, and repaired to
the house alone.
WAS Mr. Mildon at home? ~ he asked
of the woman who opened the door. es,
! he was at home in his own room. Then
| the visitor would 90 to him there; he
need not be announced; when Mr.. Mlldon
! was him he would understand.
Young Midon rose from his writing
desk on the entrance of his unsupported
/ guest His face was perfectly uncon-
! scious, without either surprise or alarm.
| For one moment the two men looked at
each other in silence. If Taltord's con
viction wavered, certainly his determin-
alton did not.
Laying the "darbies" on the table he
said:
"Mr. Mldon, | am prepared for
violence, but YOU will obIige me if YOU
will quietly produce the Matchmaker
hammer with which you murdered your
uncle's housekeeper and her friend
Whether it was the sudden reyelatioE
of the discovery of the much-debuted
weapon. or an idea that Taltord would
never have acted as he did without some
strong evidence to Justify him, cannot be
EXPLAINED But Young Mldon, without
a word of protest, turned on his heel,
went to a chest of drawers. unlocked one,
and displayed to Taford the terrible i'm
plement. 1t lay among his handkerchiets
and neckties. He had never even
cleaned it. Dry blood was on it, and
there were one or two adhering hairs.
Yet what seemed such an utter careless
ness had come nearer to achieving
security than any amount of restless pre-
caution might have done.
The whole of Charles Mildon's original
account was proved to be perfectly
true !
He had only omitted its most impor
tant parts.
1t was true that the old housekeeper
had admitted him and that she had ap-
peared Just as usual.
He had omitted TO say that he had in
stantIy fellcd her to the ground with u
blow which needed no repetition. That
he had next been startled by the appear
ance of another old woman coming up
the kitchen stairs. but that bis surprise
had not unneryed him for the prompt
commission of second murder, which
had formed no part of his original plan.
Then he had passed by tie two dead
women and gone to his uncle apartment.
He hal found the old man seated at the
window us usual, but on this he had
reckoned, and had laid his plot accord
ingIy. AT er little conversation he
had asked for small money loan. His
uncle had So often been complaisant
that he had little fear of rebuff. Had
the uncle left the window to take few
sovereigns from his bureau his nephew
would have feIled him to the ground and
!. possessed himself of the whole hoard.
! But to his surprise and discontinue the
| old gentleman proved utterly obdurate.
, Instead of lending the money he gave
him a lecture loading him with re-
, proaches. The nephew showed sub
} missive front, wondering all the while
what other dodge he could invent to en-
J tice his uncle from his window seat. One
occurred to him at last. An anxious and
J Respondent man is often thirsty. He
, knew his uncle kept divers liquors in a
cupboard at the back of the room.
"W ell uncle he said sadly, "you
can't think how your words upset me
and your severity is such a dsappoint-
ment to me | really feel quite faint. You
won't give me any more help you say?
, will not ask it. will onl y ask for q
drink of something q glass of
water You will not refuse me that"
, "You may take it for yourse +" the
, uncle had declared. "Iou know where
the bottles and glasses are kept. 1t is
part Of your abominabIe ideness that an
active young fellow like you should sit
there asking poor old cripple to hand
him a drink
TO keep up appearances young Mildon
had gone to the cupboard and helped
himself to some beer Then he had re-
sumed his seat. 70 wait for his uncle to
move, could be, of course, but a ques-
ton of time, and the stakes he had
already risked were too terrible to allow
| of any impaticnce. Leaving personal in
forest aside, he had striven to divert and
interest tho old gentleman in local gossip
: and political debate and was hatterng
| himself that he was allaying his uncIe's
irritation in the most satisfactory man
ner, when he had been suddenly con-
} founded by q brisk, peremptory ring
ing of the street door bell. His uncle
? had at once vaguely wondered who ii
was likely TO be, coming at that particu
lar hour, when he was seldom disturbed,
The nephew had wondered far less
vaguely what course he had better pur-