Catoctin clarion. [volume] (Mechanicstown, Md.) 1871-1940, 1895-07-25
the Kremer murder

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quiet tones. YES, I must have some
thing about that here.'
He continued to run over the pages,
andMarsh noticed that he twice stopped
short of the letter X, under which he
should haye sought for the information
wanted. Marsh was impatient to get
back to his own work.
We'll, if you're pretty sure you haYe
something about it, Mr.. Hardin he
said, Mr.. Campbell would like you to
furnish half column, or column, if
you can, on the history of the crime, l
must 60 back to my own story. They've
arrested Boch, the fellow who did the
murder, they say, and they'll end in
hanging him, ofcourse; the circumstan-
tial evidence is strong. The Kremer
murder, remember It occurred about
twelve years ago. didn't itT
NO. replied Hardin, mot twelve
eleven years ago tonight. That is, l
think it was Tonight eleven years ago.
The muroer made great impression on
my mind. It was hellish crime /;
wasn't it?
Bad, as. murders 60, 1guess.' return.
ed Marsh, lightly, wondering at this
sudden squirt Of loquacity on the Others 8
part. Well, I'll leaye you.'
Hardin did not reply. He was fum-
bling oyer his book again. Marsh
walked up to the city editors desk.
THE Sphinx must haye something
wrong in his head tonight he re.
marked, or else he's rapidly going in
to his dotage.'
THE point is, can he furnish the his
tory Of the murder?' Campbell inter
rupted, impatiently. He was engaged
in blue penciling story Of a society
meeting.
,He thinks he can,' answered Marsh.
Then don't bother yourself about
his infrmities,' admonished the other,
and take brace on that story of your
own It's close to eleyen o'clock
Marsh returned to his place and re-
sumed his scribbling industriously.
The Sphinx in his room was still 60
ing over the pages Of the register. But
he was not looking among the KS. 1t
was through the long list Of names be-
ginning with H that he hunted. Ut
must be hero T be kept murmering to
himself. Ut ought to be here! Why
can't I find itT
Then he ran the pages over again.
They futtered from his withered fin
gers-winding sheets on which were
written the names Of those dead and
gone, of events recollection of which had
long since faded from the minds Of most
men. But they did no yield the name
he sought. IT'S strange, he said. This
is complete record it has never been
wanting before. Why cant l find it ?
They must have known about it when
it happened
Then, all at once, one of his hands
slipped from the book, and his head
dropped amongthe leaves. crushing them
fiat; and tears ran between the thin
fingers outspread there.
He remained there tor some time.
Only the clicking of the telegraph in
strument in the news room, a dull hum
of voices from the rooms beyond where
a discussion was going on, and an oc-
casional question asked and answered
in the local room came to his ears and
even those he did not hear. Then a
bell began to boom the hour, and me-
chanically he counted the strokes.
EleYen o'clock The fact, duly i'm
pressed on his mind, awoke him to 8
sudden sense Of the work before him
He raised his head. His face was drawn
and his eyes, swollen as their lids were
from tears, seemed to have sunk in theil
sockets. He sat for moment, looking
at the book before him. The leaf thai
was uppermost was one that he had
scanned many times before. AT itt
top was printed the letter H.
A minute later he had drawn large
bundle of copy paper toward him and
was writing on it. He wrote slowly al
first, almost laboriously. But soon hi'
pen moved more quickly and sheet aftel
sheet of the paper was eoyered ano
pushed to one side.
Hardin's pen moovcd INCREASINGLY
When midnight struck he was working
with fierce energy which told OF
purpose that defed fatigue. But he sem
up no "copy" to the composing room az
he wrote; the pages accumulated on hi'
desk in careless heap.
It was after 1890 when he dropped
his pen and sunk back in his chair fol
n ro;nuto Then he ninked ND the bun