The Indiana State sentinel. [volume] (Indianapolis) 1868-1895, 1893-03-15
A STORM ASHORE.
BY JAMES H. CONNOLLY.

nlhcent legal library; receive there only
persons who came on such important bus
mess as could not be attended TO by MIR.
Anderson, his old and able confidential
clerk; have a lunch handed into him at
noon precisely, and at 1 o'clock TO leave
for his home somewhere in the upper
part of the city. During his seclusion in
that inner room he was constantly busy,
porting over law books, reading points
submitted by counsel, and writing opin-
ions. When a person was admitted to see
him the very atmosphere by which he
was surrounded was a warning against
waste of time in idle conversation. Not
one of even his most intimate friends
would have dreamed of taking up his
time with mention OF a new lunatic
haunting the courts.
So it was that Lem met him and passed
him by In the street. uncOnsciously, over
and over again, not even knowing that he
was a LAWYER. The young man was so I'M
easy. restless and unhappy, "a the days
flew repidly by, and the time for Dorn's
trial was drawing nearer-ior the grand
jury had found an indictment against him
within a week after his commitment by
the magistrate, end he was to be tried for
his lie a. the next session OF the court
that be could no more sleep at night than
rest In the daytime. and was almost con-
stantlv strOllIng aimlessly about the
Streets growing thinner, more careworn
and respondent daily.
One evening, es be was passing the front
of the old Chaiham-st theater, he was
surprised to hear himself called by name,
and, turning, found himself face to face
with Silas Thatcher. He had not seen the
scapegrace for more than three years, had
never been at all intimate with him, and
hardly recognized him now so greatly had
his appearance changed. Silas was dressed
In black cloth, wore a silk hat. flashing
brsastDIn and shining boots, had a NOUS
tache and gOatee, and was smoking long
cigar. In all respects he was a good sam
pie of the lot of a dozen or more fellows
lounging near the theater door, every one
of whom was known to the police as a
gambler or thief, and most of them as
deserving official notice IN both charac-
tiers. The vulgar atIectstion with which
be sought TO impress his rustic acquaint-
ance, did not lacquer over the coarse
blackguardism of his customary manners,
and Lem. without well knowing why, felt
an instructive dislike for, and d1strust of,
him. Still, he stood and Ia ked a little
while. telling the last news he had from
home; that Uncle and Aunt Thatcher
and Mary were all we'll; that Eben Steb-
bins had gone a-whalInR; that the
schooner pretty Polly" with Capt. Marsh
and three men, had been lost in gale:
that Dorm Hackett had come back and
been arrested on suspicion OF having MUIR
dered Jacob Van Deust-
Murdered old Jake Van Deust! You
don't mean to say that you folks down in
that dead-aliye little village have had the
sensation of a real murder !"
An! yes. A terrible sensation, too,
the killing and robbery of a poor, weak,
old man, and the arrest of an innocent
person for the crime"
Let's 90 and get drink, while you tell
me all about it,"
NO, thank you. l don't drink. But l
can tell you all about il here, all the
same" And he told the whole story. at
least as far as it was known to the public,
instinctively suppressing, however, all
mention of the evidence he hoped to find
In the city.
THAT handkerchief business will be
likely to hang him, won't it," asked Silas.
1T seems very serious to his friends"
Mighty queer that he should have had
the thing Iii he isn't guilty"
And yet l am as sure as that ] am alive
this moment that if they hang Dorm
Hackett for that murder thev will hang
an innocent man for the crime OF anoth-
err"
Come. let's 90 and take drink. Just
one. Take something light il you like.
And then we'll 20 around and see some
life. Come on. | want drink"
No, you'll have to excuse me, Silas
never drink, and | feel pretty tired; and
| think I'll go to bed"
Go to bed /. now! Why. a man isn't a
hen. Night is the only time to see life in
New York. I've only been up couple of
hours or so. Come along and III show
you the elephant"
mo. thank you. | have no desire to
see him. I'd rather 60 to bed. Good
night.
"Weli, goodnight, il you will 60"
Silas. when left alone, hastily entered
the bar-room attached 10 the theater, and
called for a glass of brandy. While he
was pouring out the fiery beverage sn ac-
quaintance entered. aud, looking at him
with surprise. exclaimed:
why. Silasi What the deuce is the
matter with you? You look as if you'd
seen a ghost"
Maybe l have. Whatll you take ?"
answered Silas, drylv.
Brandy" replied his friend, and the
young mans looks were no more COM
mented on.