The Somerset herald. [volume] (Somerset, Pa.) 1870-1936, 1894-03-07
Col. Browns Portrait.

OOl. DIUWu , IUllldlL.
"It's me. VIII you open the door or
am l to stand here and freeze to death ?"
There was a nervous fnmbling at the
lock, sharp click as it turned, and at
last was admitted to the studio Of my
friend, Collins. had never before ex-
perienced the slightest difficulty in enter
ing it, for the latch was free at all hours,
and was in the habit ofcropping around
for smoke and a chat at any time, sans
ceremonie. Besides, it was New Years
eve, and there had been previous agree
ment that together We would smoke the
old year out with some very excellent
Turkish mixture had picked up.
Jayne Collins wasan old friend Of mine.
At school he did vile earicatures of me in
the fly leaves of his books, and there had
sprung FROM this inauspicious beginning
lasting intimacy. At 20 he went to
Europe to study art, and saw nothing
of him for nearly seven years. Then he
turned up in Minneapolis and opened
studio. so that for year previous to this
chilly New Years eve our friendship had
been as close as in the old days
was surprised on entering to find the
apartment cold. There vas no fire in the
stove, and the kettle standing on it, a
particularly jovial little copper affair,
gave neither sign nor sound. The punch
bowl lay inverted on its shelf. The
effect of all this was particularly depres-
sing, additionally so perhaps that wide
ly different scene had been conjured up
in mind from past experience in this very
room-a scene in which the little copper
kettle sang right merrily, the punch bowl
stood full 70 the brim with special
brew, of which its owner alone had the
secret, ard a cloud of blue tobacco smoke
formed the background.
Noting at glance the unusual condi-
ton, turned to Collins for an explana-
tiors and saw he was carefully relocking
the door. His manner seemed curiously
stealthy. In fact, there was something
so thoroughly odd and inexplicable in
my friends behavior that stood watch
ing him for moment in silent specula-
ton as to the cause of it. Just as was
about to voice my bewilderment he anti
c;pated me.
Don't talk loudly" he sad in an ex-
cited whisper, "Pm hiding"
"Hiding" l exclaimed; "from whom,
pray?"
Was it possible that he had become
lunatie l thought. 1t was slow and dis
couraging for an artist in the northwest,
and Collins was very respondent at
times, but 50 sudden collapse was hid
eous to contemplate.
''Confound it, man don't scream!" he
cried, gesticula.ing wildly in the direc-
ton of the door. "rm hiding from
pack Of ofnews-gathering devils armed with
innumersble pencils and whole Ieams of
paper. So far have eluded them but
they keep knocking, knocking there, the
internal ravens say, Lennon" he went
on throwing himself sstride chair and
glared at me over the back oft, I'm in
the very deuce of a mess, old chap COM
promised everlastingly. The thing will
be in every paper on the continent to-
morrow morning"
"Who is the woman ?" l asked, seized
with a sudden idea.
Woman" he repeated; there's no
woman-or, stay-yes, there is, very
pretty widow-no, confound it, she's not
widow now, either. She was this morn
ing though, but-hang it, man, the
whole thing is the vilest muddle you
ever heard Of Why" he exclaimed,
starting to his feet and pointing nervous
ly in the direction of the window, II
left the corpse sitting up in black shroud
drinking champagne, the widow
mean the wife, in Mysteries; the servant
in dead faint. left the undertaken
cursing under his breath, and left my
SELF" he concluded with a savage grin,
ain hack. Oh, it's devil of mess all
rocnd."
Crazy as q cockroseh was my inward
comment. Collins had always been a
little bit high strung, given to fits Of ex-
altation and depression. While these
thoughts flashed through my mind the
subject Of them was rapidly pacing the
floor. Approaching q par,ly finished
Nubian girl with waiter jar on her
shoulder, be deliberately kicked hole
in the canvass. "Look here, jayne"
said, you're overworxed. Get out that
whisky of yours while l light fire.
Wen have quiet grog and asmoke, and |
talk this thing over sensibly. There's |
nothing like good, honest pipe when
mans in dilemma
He sat on the very edge Of a chair,
with his elbows on his knees, and his
head resting in his hands. was on my
way to the stove with an armful of wood
from the fuel-box behind the serene,
when became conscious of something
hat caused me to drop the bundle of
sticks and started back in alright. The
material struck the aoor with a
rash, and Collins raised his head. There
vas an apathetic wonder in his eyes that
hanged TO startled expression as his
,azed met mine.
"What's the matter?" he asked.
"what is that2" l demanded, sternly
pointing TO his upraised hands. They
we're covered with blood. His cuffs, too,
we're saturated with it. Extending his
orefngers with their dark stains before
lin. be examined them for a moment in
rim silence.
"The corpsel" he gasped with shud-
er. "Ah it was a terrible affAir terri