The free press. (Poplarville, Miss.) 1890-19??, 1893-02-09
I gave the handle of the door an

Aud now the truth began to dawn
dimly upon my perturbed brain. The
coast was clear and victory belonged
10 Bruce Hardcnbrook!
In vain / shouted until my lungs
were hoarsc-in vain ratified the re-
lentless door; nothing but the echo
rewarded my oflorts.f Nor was the
scene of my involuntary confinement
particularly inviting. 1t was dark,
close and intensely hot--a circum-
stance easily accounted for by the fact
of a whitc-hot fire glowing away in
the range and no particular circulation
except that of Croton bugs across the
floor. l sat down OH the brass kettle
and wiped the streams of perspiration
from my forehead-a modern 81.
Bartholomew.
gnashcd my teeth and upset
whole colony of frying pans in de-
spair.
sprang up and ratified the door
once more, shouting at the top of my
lungs; but all TO no avail l kicked
at the waIs--I beat tattoo on the
brass kettle with the guitar case. Vain
efforts. | might as well have at
tempted to make myself heard from
the great dungeoa of the Basilo. And
then l rendered the probable turn
affairs were taking up stairs, and ut
tered hollow groan.
of | ever get out of this fiery
furnace alivel" said to myself, ener-
getically, "I'll let girls and matrimony
alone!"
So the time crept away, every mo-
ment seeming like an hour, and I
heard the sharp little kitchen clock
strike eight, nine and ten, with a
keen sense Of despair at every time,
Should / never escapc2 Was doomed
10 De roasted awe!
At length the monotony of silence
was relieved by the sound Of footsteps
coming down tho narrow stairs, and
Gordon's voice exclaimed:
Observation-Disclosures
the mischief are you all3 What's the
kitchen door locked forp I'll dis
charge every one of you or--Hallo! /!
thieves murder! !~police!"
And honest Job fired his revolver
aimlessly INTO the kitchen and flung
heavy chair after it.
"Gordon Us 'op-hold on-ifs l,
Torquatus Thistledownw
"Thistledown in my kitchen don't
believe word of it. Police, say!"
"But it is | and I'm nealy dead.
Stop your bawling and listen to rca-
son, / said rather vindictively, for the
slender thread of my patience was
rapidly diminishing down to nothing
at all. "Let me ont where there's a
breath of fresh air and I'll explain
things"
The astonished old gentleman led
me up stairs in o the gas-lightod hall,
marveling much at the wilted ap-
pearancc that presented.
"Now, then, will you be good
enough 10 tell me what all this is
about. / come home at ten o'clock
and find my house open and empty.
| go down into my kitchen and find
the president of the Petroleum Com
pany INJURED up among the pots and
pans! Am | asleep and dreaming!
Or have l been bcreft of my senses"
"Frst," I interrupted, "where are
Hardenbrook and Funny?"
"Whcre? How should l know!
Another mystery, presume.
"No mystery at all, sir" said we'll
known voice, rs Bruce Hardenbrook
came quietly up the front steps and
into the hall, with Fanny leaning on
his arm, the pomegranate cheeks
shade redder than ever, and the bright
hair slistening around her face, ''here
we boh are"
"Anl where have you been?"
"Only TO get married, Sir"
.Marrcd!" cried |.
..Married ?n echoed Mr.. Gordon.
..You told me in your note, papa TO
accept him promptly" faltered Fanny
"But | didn't suppose you were 60
inc to be as prompt as all this" sara
the discounted papa.
Iremaincd to hear no more. what
defeated general cares to llnger ana
survey the scenes of his rout and dis