Reporter and farmer. [volume] (Webster, Day County, Dakota [S.D.]) 188?-1946, 1894-03-08

ment she hesitated to enter the cellar.
Rracing herself, however, to her task,
by a strong effort, h ran over the
brick floor, frightened by the sound OF
her own footsteps, and CHANGING be-
hind her to be sure that the noise
was not the footsteps of some II fol-
lowing her, knowing her secret.
For 1T had already grown to be her
secret; she seemed to have taken the
burden of it, with its guilt and horror,
on her shoulders. She listened at the
door of the inner cellar, but heard
nothing but her own sobbing breath.
Then she put the key in the paddock,
turned it with some difficulty, for 1t
was old and rusty, and pushed open
the door.
At last her coward eyes reached the
floor. In the corner behind the door
there was a huddled heap; clothes, floor,
walls were stained and soaked with
blood. Cicely knew that 1t was a
dead man who was lying ut her feet,
his face on the ground, N arm bent
under him, the other tutstretched; but
| she had the courage to lift the lifeless
head, and to see that he throat was
gashed from side to side. AS she drop
ped the head and drew back shudder-
ing, she caught sight of the knife her
husband had thrown down; it was
stained and wet. Then she relocked
the door and fled up stairs as if the
phantom Of the murdered man was
pursuing her.
For the first time, as she saw her
husband lying by this time fast asleep,
she felt C spasm of the natural human
loathing of the manslayer. But even,
before she had conquered this, she
brought a sponge to, the bedside and
clearsed his hands from the ~tell-tale
stain. Then with a pair of scissors
she cut away the front of his shirt,
which was also stained, rolled it up and
hid it away. Then, believing sleep to
be an impossibility for her that night,
sh sat up in III armchair beside her
husband with no very clear thought,
but with a feeling that he was a sick
man, in mind, If not in body, and need
ed her most watchful nursing.
The horror and the shock of the
nights events, however, had worn out
her body and mind; she fell asleep, and
it was Duke who awoke first on the
following morning, to find his wife's
head had slipped down on to the pill
low beside him.
He started, still heavy from the eff
fects Of the narcotic he had taken,
and not remembering clearly and of
the events Of the preceding night.
"Cicely.'' he cried. why, Cicely,
why aren't you in bed, my dear? What
Is the matter?"
Cicely opened her eyes with a start,
and looked up at him. Unlike her
husband, she realized in a very few
al tha4 hal I n,t
glanced fearfully from his face, which
still bore evidences of the strong emo
tons which had torn him, to his hands.
Looking at her face, the expression On
that of Duke gradually changed and
grew more gloomy. He followed her
glance from his hands to his shirt
front.
What's thisT' he asked hoarsely,
away.
Cicely tried to laugh.
1T was wet" she said, trying to
speak easily, ''and / was afraid you
would catch colo. You were fas,
asleep, SO I had to cut it."
Gradually, as she spoke, the mem
DRY of all that had passed began to
come back TO him. He fixed his eyes
upon her with a searching gaze so full
of misery that she could not meet It.
Rising quickly, she tried to walk away
across the room, but suddenly stopped
with n cry Of pain, and fell into a
chair.
MY ankle! / sprained 1t, / think,
last night on the cellar stairs"
The cellar stairs" repeated Duke,
slowly. Then he sprang up suddenly
into a sitting position. What were
you doing-down there|'
She tried to face him bravely, tried
to answer him. But she could not.
The horror of it all overwhelmed her
afresh. With a low cry, which was
scarcely more than a moan, she let
her head fall forward on to her hands.
Duke sprang up from the bed and
knelt down in front of her.
What do you krow? What did
you see?' he asked, in a shame-faced,
guilty whisper.
Il know everything-I saw every
thing. Don't ask me about; don't speak
Of it-at least not yet. l cannot bear
II ~ Sbn pospaI ont npphnraptly