Custer weekly chronicle. [volume] (Custer City, S.D.) 1890-1931, 1894-11-24

mover even heard OF this horrible affair."
F"OI course nat, returned the officer, cheer
fully. That's what they all say, young
man and for tile matter o. that, every mans
innocent I'LL the law proves him guilty"
but was not even there. l LETT st. Cur
lofts two days ago"
Exactly" was the dry retort: You hook
cd II the very night of the murder. The
body was found early on the morning OF the
2od, and the warrant was issued yester-
day"
As he spoke, / seemed To feel the net clos
Ing round me. AT first the very accusation
had seemed preposterous: NOR, | began to
understand that my position was one of ex-
tfeine peril. If Johnson had really been
murdered, and on that nisht. "a now seemed
clear, ! could not escape suspicion by a mare
abb. Remembered, with a thrill Of horror.
my last meeting with the murdered man, just
before NY departure; and my heart sank
within me.
knew my own innocenoe-but who was
gully? AS asked myself the question. l
looked again at Annie, who was still watch
ing me ntently: and in a moment, as If by
an Inspiration, ! thought Of her father! Had
John Pendragon, in a moment Of madness,
taken the lie of the man whom he suspected
OF betraying his daughter? The thought was
almost too horrible for belief-yet, alas! it
was not unreasonable.
Nov, then, are you ready?" said the Off
Ger, placing his hand upon my shoulder.
rose quietly. As | did so, Annie sprung
toward me with out,trctched hands.
Hugh! dear Hugh tell me you did not do
1t! cannot-cannot believe that you are
guilty"
As | looked at her, all my spirit darkened
ami hardened AGAINST her.
"Ahen the times comes" | said. solemnly,
may you be "a well able to answer for Jour
deeds as | shall answer for mine. The rroub-
lie began with yolt. II murder has been done,
1t Is your doing alsO-remember that"
They were cruel words, and afterward /
bitterly regretted them but / was thinking
OF her father, and remembering how bitter
must be her blame, If, By any possibility, he
had been driven into crime and violence "a 4
consequence OF her conduct Whether she
understood me or not, l cannot tell; but, hid
ing her face III her hands, she sank Oh a
couch, Historically sobbing.
What followed seemed more like an ex-
traOrdinary dream than cruel waking reality!
| was led from the house. placed IN a cab,
and driven away. That very afternoon | left
London by train, and late that night was
handed over, handcuifed and helpless, 20 the
authorities of Falmouth Jail.
1t is q truism. | know, that the best conso-
ldtion 10 be found b. the unjustly accused is
the CONSCIOUSNESS OF their own i~nnocence-a
consciousness which Is said TO sweeten suf-
ferihg, and tighten the weight OF prison
chains. My own experience is that inno-
cencs ees no such effect Oh a man indicted
for the fOc--st OF human crimes. Ny first
night in Jail was, like many that followed it,
a night of simple horror. Iad | really been
guilty, | could not have suffered a tithe OF
what l actually endured.
To begin with. the whole affair was so hor-
rible, so unexpected; it was like the solid
earth opening under my feet to destroy me
and swallow me up. BY a strange fatality,
Johnson had been killed on the very night Of
my departure. and at a time when | was
known 10 bear the greatest hostility toward
him. Remembering all | had re9d Of men
unjustly convicted and even executed on cir
cumstantial evidence, / thought with shud-
der OF how my very departure might be con-
strned into evidence against me.
In the extremity Of my position, one
thought haunted me with tormenting cruelty.
What would Madeline think, when She heard
that | was accused OF a crime so terrible. so
Cowardly? / could bear everything else but
the fear that her heart might be turned
against me.
NV suspense did not last long. The very
next day after my arrival at Falmouth Jail,
| was taken from the prison, and placed in a
dog-cart, with a policeman at my side and
another on the seat beside the driver. An
inaSest on the body OF the murdered man
wafto take place that day 40 ST. Gur!otTs;
andl OF course, my presence was necessary.
How windy j remember that drive. Snow
had fallen in the night, AMI the skies were
dark and sunless: the Whole prospect hitter-
~ cold and de,n.ate. We followed the same
road that | had pursued long years before, in
company with John Rudd! Then | was a
lonely boy; noW | WAS a melancholy man.
/ wore a large u!stCr-coat. the folds OF
which covered the handouts on my hands:
but / fancied that every soui we passed knew
the truth-that was a criminal accused of
murder. Talk about the consciousness of in
nocence. could have wept for shame.
What was a long days journey by John
Rgdd's SOW, oid-fashioned wagon, with lis
innumrrable %stoppages tUr business. gossip,
or refreShment. was a swift drive of tye or
six hours on this occasion. We started at
six i'll the morning, and before midday were
In sight of 81. Gurlott's.
As we dashed through the village, | saw
several of the miners hanging about, but l
carefully ayertcd Wy eyes rom theirs. A
little further on, we passed the door OF the
cottage where | had dwe,t so happily and so
long; and | saw. with a sigh OF relief, that
there was no sign of any one about. We
trotted on, till we reached the gate OF the
avenue leading 10 Redruth House. Here, to
my surprise, the horse was pulled mp, while
one OF the men jumped down and threw open
the gate.
We passed up the avenue at slow trot,
and. on arriving in front of Redruth House,
found the front door wide open and n large
number Of people, both gentry and common
people, 1ocking round the doorsteps and on
the lawn. There was z murmur as / appear
cd. | looked round, but saw no face | knew.
"NOw then, get DOWN. said my compall-
ion; and | alighted. As | did 81, some one
pressed forward, and | met the honest eyes
of John Rudd. The poor fellow thrust out
his hand 10 seize mine; then, finding that |
was handcutfep drew the hand hastily back
n placed IL on my shoulder.
"pawn't I've dawnhearted, Master Hugh!'
he { led. There be not q sawl in 81. Cur
lofts believes ZEE killed Jun. SO cheer up,
lad; they'll soon set zee free"
/ thanked him. with tears standing in my
eyes, for his kindness touched me. Then |
was led into the house, and IN a little while
was facing the coroner In the great old-fash-
ioncd diring-hall, where the Inquest was be-
ing ksid.
forget many of the details of that miser-
able day. Only one thing | wildly remem-
berthe sight or the dead mans body,
stretched out for inspection in the kitchen.
Why i was taken 10 see il | do not know; but
i felt that l was closely watched as | bent
over Il, Poor johnson! / freely fOrgave
him all the trouble he had ever caused me,
seeing the blood-stained and disfigured mass
which had once been his living self.
As the inquest proceeded, / realized the
full extent of my peril. Several OF the men
came forward Osnwillingly enough, l am
bound to say), and testified 20 my having,
quarreled with the murdered man and knock
ed him down. Then the young master,
George Reslrutii, gave his tesiimony-to the
effect that | had been dismissed from the
overssership, and that | bore a violent grudge
against the man who had s%upplanted me.
Finally, IL was proved that l had left St
Gur.otts some time on the very night Of the
murder, which was not discovered till the