The Dickinson press., 1892-06-04
Lost as low?" he asked, sitting

the Judge, in his slow, sententious
manner, which was queerly ut vari-
ancc with his speed in hurrying into
his clothes. '.We will find him, and
see if his prescntiments will go so far
as to explain what's become OF the
diamond. Let up what has happened.
pardner. Reel it off. ] am all awake" !"
narrated briefly the events OF the
night, while he completed dressing.
Lola, standing by tho window, listen
ed in silence. There was Just
enough light to reveal the mischiev-
Gus exultation that sparkled in her
eyes.
"lIere's Nigilance Committee Job,
ii ever there was one, said the Judge,
hastily lacilg his boot. II amt light
ed on anything so much like Californey
since the good old days. Now, sir, il
you air ready, We'll hunt up Israel,
lie prophet He's got to tell us some
thing more about this than we know
ON
1t was striking five when we quilted
the house. The Judge left ME to look
about the garden and it's vicinity for
Van IIcecE ;he ehimseisiruck out forth
| WO(II, lithlIlS lLOltG WIN uliiI. i Nv b.
would have stayed with me, but her
father had her hand in his, and there
WAS no getting Away from that grip.
After exploring the garden, | tooE
the path that led to the lodge. us be-
lug the one that Van Hoeck frequent
ly walked in when alone. The lodge.
keeper was not up, put, passing
through the open wicket into the
toad, came upon laborcr, trudgng
along to his work with pick upor
his shoulder, and Tin flask in his
hand.
1t then was '1ali-past fvc, or per
haps q little later.
"Have you passed o. blind gentle
man OF the road?' | asked.
al amt passed 'im," he answered
"out as | come by the cross roads J
see some 'l;n, as looked gen 'leman
/, like kind 'er fumbling his way along
he road do VII by Harley bottom" "
lnew the cross roads; they We're
nearly two miles distant: 1t was in,
comprehensive to me how Van Hoeck
had strayed so far from the Abbey;
but the laborer's descriptionleft little
DOM ior doubt that it was Van Hoek
he had seen, and started at once ill
the direction indicated.
could not see Van Hoec:. from the
crossroads, but, on tn ming the angle
OF the laneat the foot OF tine hill,I per
ceivvd him feeling the way with pain
iul slowness. and on the side OF the
hedgerow. II hundred yards in ad-
vance. Hearing my step he
turned, and, recognizing it.
came to meet me. He seemed to for
get the danger OF making a false step,
and advanced with eager quick
ncss,-his whole body partaking
the expression OF anxiety i'm
printed on his features.
as it you, Thorne?" he called.
"Yes," | replied.
"What has happened?"
waited until got up to him, then
putting my hand on his shoulder, |
81 have bad news for you, Van
Hoecll"
He trembied violently under MY
band, and opened his lips to speak,
hut no sound came; his condition
was pitiable, and to keep him no
longer III suspense, SalQ,-
81 have lost it. 1t has been taken
from me-"
"Who has taken it?" he asked, in &
thick, husky voice.
II can not say. could not see the
man who robbed me-
He was silent for time, and then
his feelings found expression at first
IN execration, then in incoherent SEN
tences, broken up with words ofDutch
where the English tongue failed to give
sufficient force to his anger and NOR
tification. He assailed me with every
kind OF invective, accused me of COW
ardice, of completely in robbing him,
OF know not what baseness and
heartlessness,-indeed, it seemed as
though the blow had deprived him Of
reason for the moment. At length,
when his passion was somewhat ex-
hausted, lie said,-
"And what is your defense?"
Itook his arm, and, as led him up
the hill toward the crossroads, Invent
over the story once more. When !
was telling him how Lola had come
to my rescue, he stopped lie.
"That is lie!' he said; for she has
been with me.
Impossible" l exclaimed.
Impossible according to you5
story, but it is the truth for all
that. I got off the path, and could
not find my way back. She led me to
q road-God knows where-and left
me-"
"When:"
Chow can 1 tell? The night has
been an age"
"Grantin: she led you for al hour
land you would scarcely sui
fer her to lead you longer
that would allow her to return to the
Abbey, and come to my rescue at the
time speak Of
"Have it as you will; it makes no
difference now. She got me out OF the
way, and that was her object in being
there. Go on"
came to the end Of my narrative,
and then suggested that the theft
might be traced to one OF the ser
wants.
"Anythingto shield Brace" he saic
bitterly; and then, stamping his foot
he added, "You know he took it,"
It was useless reasoning with him IL
his present condition.
You stand convicted by YOU
own statement" lie continued
"what ordinary thief would b,
fool enough, having obtained th'
3 diamond, to wait there, risking dis
: covery. and ieopardizo his own life
3 for the sake OF butchering you?
I Brsce was the theft, such a thing il
9 possible; for he must kill both yo,
9 and me to profit by the possession o
9 the diamond. Where is he now!"
"With Lola, i'll the woods lookin
Q for you"
J. 'What nlready!' he exclaimed, j,
y alarm, "He is losing no time. Wher
|, are the wooas?"
"We are in them now," replied
:. for We had passed the crossroads.
J. He stopped short. Shaking off m
: hand, he muttered, i'll q tone G