Baxter Springs news. [volume] (Baxter Springs, Kan.) 1882-1919, 1892-06-18

but the girl and the dog were gone. lie
glanced ncrvously ut the other couch
and shivcrcd rs he saw that its occu-
pant was still in its place. II was. he
felt, horrible to be alone with this silent
efIigy Of manhood. He cried for assist
ancc. His voice sounded strangely hol-
low, but his heart leaped with JOY us he
found that he could utter articulate
sounds which weakness had hitherto
rendered impossible. But there was no
response to his call. Again he uttered
n low, pitiful wall. Would no one hear
it? Yes, the sick man on the other bed
heard it, and rs he heard it he raised
his wasted form upon his hands and
glarcd ut Arthur Dunbar with eyes like
living Jewels set in the face of marble.
"Who calls mc?" he said, In n voice SO
feeble that it WINS little more than
whisper.
Arthur Dunbar, terrified at the ghast-
" spectacle, made no reply.
"Who calls?" walled the man, implor-
inrly. "oh. for an English ear to
listen to my guilty story! If / could
only speak to n fellow-countryman, Sir
Harry Grahame might yet be rescued
and my soul saved from eternal punish
ment; but no one here can understand
n word / say and must die uncon-
fessed!'
As the poor wretch breathed the
whispered words he fell back on his
couch senselcss. And now strange
vitality seemed to possess the frame OF
the young American. He raised him
self from his rough bed, and with tot
tering steps stumbled across the room
TO the bedside of the unhappy man.
"Speal out, man." he hoarsely cried.
"What have you to say about Sir Harry
Grahame"
1t was a siclsening sight-one, a
ghost of his former self, so weak that
he could with difficulty stand. even
though his thin hands nervously
clutched the side of the couch-the
other, exhausted to the very verge OF
death, yet startled from prostration by
the unexpected appeal.
"Who are you?" gasped the re-
cumbent figure.
Zone who seeks Sir Harry Grahame.
Oh, speak quickly, or it may be too
late. What have you done with him?"
But though the white lips moved, no
sound came from them, and, Arthur
Dunbar, feeling that his strength was
spent, reclcd back to his couch, on
which he fell, qui;cring with the re-
action of an effort which had nearly
cost him his life.
Presently his little nurse apd the dog
returned, the former filled with re-
morse ut having left her charge for the
brief time that it took her and her four
footed friend to indulge in n scamper
through the wood in the moonlight.
Thus week passed. Every day the
American gained strength and at last
was in condition to assist the girl in
her ministrations of mercy, tending the
diving man with q solicitude instigated
by the burning desire to secure his
secret as much as by human sympathy
for his Affections. But their efforts
seemed futile. His was n life in death.
The heart beat fcebly, the breath
fingered on his lips, occasionally the
eyes opened and the lips parted Us
though he were about to speak, but be-
yond this he gave no signs OF ANNA
ton. From the girl Arthur could learn
nothing. She made him understand by
gestures that she was to wait on him
hand and foot with the docility OF a
slave and that when he was well
enough she would conduct him to a
place of safcty-at least so he under
stood her.
| One mystery to Arthur was where
the food came from that his active nurse
always had in preparation, and still
greater surprise was how quickly he
regained his strength when once the
fever had left him, for each morning he
arose with n renewed energy, which
promised soon to restore him to his
pristine vigor. But he argued with
himself if he recovered too quickly he
would be called upon to leave the spot
before he had secured the sick mans
confession. This would never do, so he
fcigned weakness and allowed his gen.
tic attendant to minister to his wants.
His patience met with its reward ut
last. =.
One night the sick man raised himself
on his bed, as he had done once before
and in n weak voice begged Dunbar to
come to him. In minute Arthur was
nv his side. supporting the trembling
frame on his arm and bending his head
over him.
"Have you strength enough to tell me
your story?" he said, gently.
"Yes," came the faint reply. MY
brain is strangely clear and my tongue
is loosened."
"Then tell me all you can, for it issad
to see you die with this unconfessed
guilt upon your soul."
'Then, listen. All, how clearly can
think now, how easy talking seems to