Los Angeles herald., 1892-12-08
and despair that smote me to the soul.

formed, altogether wild scheme l had in
my brain. In my chamber / hastened
TO lock the door and change my light
clothes for dark ones. / adjusted q
plain mask to my face, selected from
keveral old hats the most battered, took
n tolerably stout walking stick in my
hand, and, swinging myself down from
my window outside that the household
might not discover my absence, set forth.
By taking Il short cut, which | was
sure could not be known to Richard
Dunkirk, Esq, reached certain lonely
spot, as hoped, before him. He came
in sight presently, sauntering along in
the moonlight; waited and wondered
if Richard Dunkirk, Esq, was the COW.
ard took him to be.
Just as he came opposite me l leveled
my walking stick, resting it as would
muslset across a convenient stump,
while l called in as deep voice as
could muster:
"Halt for your life!''
Mr.. Dunkirk muttered an oath, but he
stopped stock still in the path, with a
"Wh hat is it you want, fellow"
"Step there into that strip of moon
light. Be so good as to deposit the con-
tents of your pockets upon the ground"
He hesitated, but 1 shifted my walk
ing stick slightly, intimated that was
in no humor for trifing, and he pro-
ceeded to obey me.
There were knife, watch case, a sill
yer toothpick, q few loose coins, a
shrunken pocketbook and collapsed
purse, and there he stopped.
"That is not ALL" | said sharply.
With groan he took out small par
eel.
CAN. upon my honor, but this, which
cannot possibly be Of any value to any
one but me; they are merely letters"
"Allow me to be the judge of that" l
answered PUT them down"
He laid them down upon the ground
with the rest.
"Pass on" was my next order, and he
marched off past my wooden gun in
safety.
l did not wait for him to get more
than beyond view before had the con-
tents of his pockets in my hat and was
steering for home by the short cut.
l waited u week in some trepidition
to see what would chance. Much
chanced in that time, but no Richard
Dunkirk, ESQ.
Possibly he felt unequal to meeting
Miss Bonange's clear, penetrating glance
under the circumstances, or he might
have suspected her of some connection
with the robbery, especially as every
thing excepting the letters (the cudgel
included) had caused to be expressed
to him from distant city.
Miss Bonange evinced little wonder
ing anxiety at his disappearance, and
looked incredulous when | announced
his departure from that vicinity.
She was sitting in the old place, half
reclining among the cushions she liked,
when came softly beside her and laid
the avails of my highway robbery in her
silken lap.
She slipped the cover that bound them;
her beautiful lips quivered, her face
whitened.
did he give them to you, the bastard!
But better you than he!' she flashed.
For answer told her all.
Sand do you know the contents?"
"Nor wish to-"
She began to tremble; her eyes filed
with tears.
"Please to read them, Steve" giving
them back to me.
'Do you want. to preserve them?"
asked, taking out match. "Shall I de-
stroy them?'
"Not if-I have fallen in your good re-
spect, Steve"
"My good respect is nothing to you,"
said coldly. "If it were would prove
to you that you had it by telling you
over again the tale you laughed at not
so long ago." And touched the letters
with flame.
81 should not laugh now," she said
humbly and looking down, while faint
color hickered on her cheek.
"What would you do?" demanded.
She shrank little, then lifted the
beautiful eyes to mine and said:
"I should say if you were of the same
mind two years from now
"You would be my wife?"
eyes"
She is my wife now, and nave never
regretted my one robbery.-C. G. in New
Vorl- Neus