Goldsboro weekly argus. [volume] (Goldsboro, N.C.) 1885-1909, 1894-10-25

TOM ADMINISTERED a ID
away. his face working pitifully. and
his hands clasping each other in a fren-
zied ann
Calmly resting, apparently in quiet
repose, lies the friend who SO recently
fell on sleep. The handsome face is
composed, and wears a smile, the
heavy sllen mustache cover the smil-
ing lips, and the white, b~lue-veined
lids fall naturally over the ~uelLtnown
kindly eyes.
I'm HEr@A ton f,r,i,S At hIa rcrcr-
emily. Th.n JIG taxes from Ill travel
Ing ease a battery an appliances, with
several tiny bottles. uud placing titcnl
Ia an evidently prearrangcl manner
proceeds by the ala OF the minute oil
rections given on that memorable
night-xhtch seems so long aeo-to
adjust the apparatus with reycrcnt
fingers upon the cold clay before him.
Though moro than life is at stake,
he is coolly professional, knowing that
weakness now would spoil all.
But the calm face often hides deep
emotion, and the suffering Of those
few minutes was to Tom Wrayton an
eternity Of anguish.
After all his arrangements are com
plete,a strange eeric feeling creeps over
him, and he hcsitatcs TO add that sim
gle touch, whichy though once SO skep-
teal about, he now feels assured Will
send the revivifying electric current
rushing and pu1sing through the form
OF his friend.
At length pulling himself up with a
start, he places his finger on the knob
Of his battery and so completes the
circuit. Counting the seconds lie
gazes on the quiet face before him,
Then he waits q few seconds, ana once
more applies the wonderful power.
Quietly, dimfy, as the first pale
streaks of dawn flash athwart the
eastern Sky, a change comes over the
sleeping countenance before him. II
is as if some master hand had breathed
into the sc~ulptured stone and made il
live.
The white shroud Of death gives
place slowly to the tinge of crimson.
ing life. All this time Tom Wraytor
stands with set face, gazing upon his
friend.
Does one thought of what might be
but for this, intrude itself upon him?
Does one single wish to leave his
work incomplete occur to him?
No, no, from that manly, homes
41CTi4 \ A4SCo IlOI4A441S III t1dIlh - II SilSt
to the Omnipotent for so much sue
cess.
But see. Slowly, very slowly, th'
lips of erstwhile dead unclose, and
weak sigh issues therefrom.
No time must be lost now. and with
ont 4 moments delay Tom Wraytol
administers a cordial from one Of tn,
bottles with which he has PROVIDE
himself.
Then the b~Iue-veined eyelids twitcl
and futter, there is a short, gasping
fight for breath, and for the first tim,
a traveller has returned from "beyont
the gates Of death" Electricity hat
achieved one more triumph-scienee
once more victorious, and James Ben
yon lives again.
Tom" There is triumph and thank
fulness as well in the voice tha
speaks, after so long silence.
Tears stand in Tom WraFton's eyes
as he replies: Jimmy, we have cor
quered"
THANK Godr' replies the other
leaning on his friend, FOR this swee
hour! Tom, l wish I could tell you a.
the solemn mystery-but 1 cannot.
do not regretit, it was worth the loss.
Then silence fell upon the friend:
and nothing but the wild tumult c
the storm outside disturbed the quie
of the tomb. Then Tom spoke: jaime,
the world viii not believe this"
"iyhen did the world ever be1iev
anything out of the ordinary course {
events? No, it will not. I shall G
: back into the world under anothe
name. The strange secret of N
] double existence will be buried b'
tween us; and
o And Gwcndolen? She IS still faitl
full