The Irish standard. [volume] (Minneapolis, Minn. ;) 1886-1920, 1893-06-03

three days to reach his destination
CHAPTER XIV
"By comparison with electricity steam
is a slow-ploddinq beast. I can head
him off, after consultation with a law
yer, my dear"
She said it aloud, as if she would re-
assure the unresting spirit that was
forever goading her to fresh endeavor
in the direction of solving the Norcross
mystery.
If ever she felt tempted to give over
the hopeless task of unearthing her Sis
ter's slayer there would come back to
her, with reproaah in it's shadowy eyes,
vision of Amelia, not as she had seen
her in the Norcross mansion, ablaze
with jewels and flashing in yellow
satin, but Amelia in her peculiarly help
less, clinging childhood; Amelia IN her
pure, happy girlhood; Amelia in her
winning, unsullied, budding woman
hood; the Amelia whom she had loved
and protected before that rash marriage
with Sibley Fairbanks, which had been
dissolved, as rashly, at the close OF
three years.
Of that Amelia, and of none other,
would she permit herself to think. II
was that Amelia who was still appeal
ing to her for help. She raised her
arms despairingly.
In all this wide world, full of clear
heads, strong arms and tender hearts,
there was none to care, not one to
help her throw the light of truth upon
that dark, dark spot in her memory.
Perhaps it had been reserved for Dick
to help her. Perhaps the clew had lRen
put into his hands for her guidance.
No one could have had any motive
for that dastardly deed but Sibley Fair
banks. Amelia-the beautiful, willful
Amelia-had not made him a good wife.
She had heard only Mellie's partial
statement; but it had been enough.
Sibley Fairbanks had the motive Of
Jealous revenge to steel his arm; and
there was the witness of the seal of the
Fairbanks family.
81 will do it, my dear. I will follow
this clew to it's bitter end. Perhaps then
you will rest, and SO will l."
Yes, steam is slow plodding beast,
especially when every nerve in ones
! body is aquiver with impatience.
Sibley Fairbanks, steaming slowly up
the river in answer to Idas telegram,
i; was in just such feverish state of un-
rest, until, eagerly running across the
clumsy staging that was flung out for
| his convenience at his own landing, he
saw two carriages waiting under the
? spreading sycamore trees. One was a
hackney coach occupied by two white
men.
Old Cato stood bareheaded by the
horses of the other. His withered
black face had beaned a ho1nely well
come to ''his boy Sibley'' long before the
gangway had been adjusted. Sib]ey
had waved his hat cordially in return.
It was towards Cato's vehicle that he
| was hurrying, when sober face and a
massive form were interposed between
it and him:
81 am sorry, Mr.. Fairbanks, but-you
are my prisoner" ..4 ..
He recoiled step and looked the man
amazedly in the face.
"Your prisoner?''
The man extended folded piece OF
paper He declined touching it.
''Who are you?''
"Martin Hastings, sheriff of Dalton. -
but are you not making mistake,
Mr.: Sheriff.
mot unless the mistake lies in think
ing that you are the Sibley Fairbanks
herein described
Again he offered the warrant for
! perusal. This time Sibley took it and
read it, standing there under the old
sycamore trees that stretched their
gnarly branches protectingly over him,
with Cato watching the whole strange
scene in throbbing anxiety.
| Fairbanks grew CHASTITY white as he
| read. The paper trembled in his grasp.
When he handed it back it fell between
him and Sheriff Hastings. He took out
his white silk handkerchief and wiped
the great beads from his forehead. He
was afraid to trust himself to words.
At last:
.sDoes that mean,'' he asked, huskily,
s'that must go with you-go back to
New Orleans?"
s'It does
do you know what brought me
here?''
'.You are here to attend your fathers
funeral. We have thought of that, and
are disposed to make it as easy on you
as possible. Ny companion here-my
deputy--is entirely unknown in this
neigh borhood. With your permission
he will drive to Glen burnie in the same
carriage with you. would advise you
to go quietly. He can pass as friend
who came up with you, you know
81 suppose you mean to be kind, so
ought to thank you. do said Sibley,
with mechanical courtesy.
No call for gratitude; only, you see,
there's no use your kicking against the
lpricks, and there's no use our making j,
! any rougher on you than need be '