The Globe-republican. [volume] (Dodge City, Kan.) 1889-1910, 1892-03-10

door, and Marion Oakburn emerged
stealthily. In her hand she carried the
lamp as before, but the paper and the
metallic something from which the light
had glistened when Harland saw her
was no longer in her possession.
For a moment she stood motionless as
a statue and listened, while we note
how extremely beautiful she is.
Marion Oakburn possessed form
above the average height of women,
which might have been the ideal of q
Grecian sculptor. and her rare brunette
loneliness was unsurpassed. Here was
the dark and radiant beauty of ERypt's
queen, but Cleopatra did not rival her,
and Marion's eyes sparkled with the
light of a pure heart and q noble ma
ture.
But there was an expression of sad
ness upon her perfect features look
of melancholy that was pitiful, and it
led one to think that sorrow had en-
tered her young life; that in the heart
of the beautiful girl there was some
blighting grief. And yet Marion was
ever cheerful, as though sustained by
sorrows pale star-hOpe.
Marion Oakburn was twenty-four
years Of age, and therefore in the full
bloom and perfect development of
glorious womanhood.
AS she stood at the door of her bed
chamber listening, she detected no
breach of the silence, and so she glided
along the passage to the back stairs
noiselessly and gained the lower hall
There she passed directly to the Office
door. which she unlocked, and, remOv-
ing the key, she proceeded to the street
entrance.
There she discovered that the bolts
were drawn, and that only the night
latch secured it.
Marion seemed started at this, and
she reeled back against the wall, where
she stood for a moment trembling
slightly, but with her brows contracted,
as though in deep thought.
II she was mentally debating some
question, she arrived at conclusion al
most instantly, for with hand that no
longer trembled she unlocked the street
door.
Then leaving the entrance to the Office
unguarded by bolt or bar, Marion again
retraced her steps to the rear stairs,
which she assembled. Half way up she
clutched the handrail in convulsive
way and paused for moment to listen.
for she fancied she heard footsteps in the
hall above. She did not hear the sound
again, and believing she was deceived by
her imagination she continued up the
stairs.
Could her eyes have penetrated the
darkness as she paused upon the stairs
she would have seen the dark. cruel face
of Judith Kredge, the female domestic,
peering down at her from the passage
above.
When she reached the landing Marion
saw no one, but she did not return to her
own apartment. On the contrary she
went to the door of the sleeping-room
occupied by Judith Kredge.
Marion knocked, and moment subse-
quently the woman who had just played
the part of a spy, opened the door.
She was clad in loose, dark wrapper,
which she seemed to have hastily
donned.
"What is it, Miss Marion? You are
not i'll. hope?" she said, feigning sur
prise and solicitude.
mo; l am not ill. but cannot sleep.
Father has not come home. I have
vainly listened for his footsteps on the
stairs all night What can keep him out
SO late. Oh, fear some misfortune has
befallen him."
"Ferhaps he has returned and entered
the Office as he sometimes does, after
business hours. Do you not remember
he once fell asleep there and remained
almost all night before he awoke? Shall
We go down and see?"
Eyes, yes: why did l not think of that
before, l wonder, Judith.
The woman's eyes cleaned intelligent
ly, but she made no answer.
She accompanied Marion down the
front stairs
They reached the Office door and
opened it.
Marion entered first, lamp in hand.
and Judith Kredge came also behind
her.
They had scarcely crossed the thresh'
old when they recOiled, and Marion ut
tered cry of horror.
A terrible sight met their eyes.
"My father has been murdered"
gasped Marion in an awful voice.