The Redwood gazette. [volume] (Redwood Falls, Minn.) 1873-1940, 1893-11-16


! it so that il by chance any one snould
pass there would be no sign of disturb
ance. He was an old hand at this. and his
was no slovenly work.
AS had been already arranged, Ber-
trand remained beside the door to listen
for any movement and ready to come to
Remond's help if the need should arise
What need was it they contemplated.
and how was it to he met?
The light from the easement fell full
on the sleeping man. He had pulled
back the chintz curtains so as to leave it
entirely unshaded, as he liked to be
awakened by the first CLEAN of morning
sunlight. He was not a dweller in the
town whose nervous, overwrought brain
required unbroken darkness to soothe it
to rest. He had gone to sleep full of
kindly, happy thoughts, rejoicing over
his daughters happiness and the realiza-
ton of his own and his old friends long
cherished wish as to the marriage Of
their children, and planning what he
would do for the poor wayfarer who had
so strongly excited his interest and COM
passion. AS he lay there he looked the
very picture of an honest, healthy, hap
py man. strange contrast to the villain
Gus countenance of the man who now
bent over him.
Remond had approached the bed at the
side farthest from the window, but his
keen eyes soon perceived the corner of the
pocketbook he was in search of project
ing little from under the pillow at the
side opposite to where he stood. He at
once perceived that he had somewhat
difficult job before him. He dared not
risk stretching across the sleeping man,
who lay with his face toward the win
dow, in order to reach it, for the bed was
wide, and in such strained attitude as
he would have to assume he could not
rely on the steadiness of his hand. The
only alternative was to go around to the
other side of the bed, where it would be
within easy reach, in which case there
would be the danger of a shadow in con-
sequenceo of his having to pass between
the sleeping man and the uncurtained
window, and he knew by experience
how little sometimes awakened sleep
er. Any attempt at closing the curtains
was of course quite out of the question
It would be much too long and risky a
process. AL this passed rapidly through
his mind, and lie promptly decided to
try the other side of the bed.
It was a large. old fashioned 4-post
bed, and getting softly down on his
hands and knees he crawled noiselessly
round like some noxious reptile. By this
device he avoided the danger of throw
ing his shadow on the sleeper. When he
got opposite the place where the pocket
book lay, he cautiously put himself in
such a position as to be able to spring at
once to his feet if necessary, tnen raised
his head till his eyes We're on level with
the surface of the bed. And slowly,
! gently, cautiously, very cautiously, that
hand with its rapacious fingers crept over
the coverlet till it touched the prey it
sought-frst touched. then grasped. then
gently, gently, drew back again.
But what was that? What unheard of
sound disturbed the sleeper? Was it per-
chance the grating of Atropos' shears!
Who can tell? Warned by that almost
imperceptible movement. the hand lay
still as though cut in marble, while a
baneful CLEAN shot from the evil eyes
which watched the sleeper. After a
pause the gentle, gliding movement be-
gan again. Slowly the pocketbook was
drawn from it's hiding place, and success
seemed certain. With shudder-the
shears must have grated more loudly
than before-the sleeper opened his eyes.
Those eyes which had closed on happy
smiles and loving looks opened to fall
on that rapacious hand and evil face.
Great God! how came they there?
He had no time to think. to look, to
breathe! At one fell bound the robber
springs upon him, anu the long hands
clutch his throat in grasp of steel.
The need has come. and he looks to-
ward his companion.
"Come, he motions with his lips rather
than speaks. The old man struggles
hard for his dear life, and he is strong.
but that. .1vails him not. Bertrand ap-
proachaa white with fear and trembling
in every limb, not at the idea of crime.
but at his own danger.
+ 1.-THE knifer' mutters Remond hoarse-
", with motion toward his pocket
Bertrand takes it out and opens i1--a
wicked knife it is, with long, curved
back blade. He opens it and offers it to
Remond. who, however, seems to read
something in his hangdog face and in
stead Of taking it mutters savagely ,,while
his grip tightens on the old mans throat:
mo, sacre cochon! You don't play me
that trick second time. You'll take
your full share now. Cut and be quick
about it." Seeing the other hesitate,
''Cut, or by all that's damnable I'll slit
| your throat from ear to ear and leave
you here to keep him company IL swing
fol. It," He said this with q savage fe-
rocity Of look aad tona that convinced
his companion he was In earnest,