Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1895-11-15

CHAPTER XXX-THE PRESIDENT
So like a cat did the black man move
that neither Mrs. Warren nor Elsie were
aware of his presence until he was passing
them on the way to the bed.
Elsie screamed and Mrs. Warren sprang
to her feet and tried to lay hold of Wanga's
arm.
He shook her off and grasped at buttons
throat, Selling the scapular and wrenching
1t away. The band broke and he turned
with it in his hand as Mrs. Warren CRIED:
DO not profane the dead! IT'S the sign
Of his faithr'
Dutton was not dead. The violence with
which his head had been pulled forward
aroused him.
His eyes opened and rested on Wanga.
1t was but an instant. Mrs. Warren was
even on the point of reaching to Wanga's
appraised hand to take If she could, the
sacred emblem from him. when terrific
report shook the house. and the black man
tumbled backward, the scapular dropping
from his hand with sharp rap as it STRUCK
the floor.
Dutton with supreme effort had sum-
moned all his waning forces and shot Wan
ga with the ancient pistol that Will had
found for him.
Mr.. Warren and Will had rushed from
the gate the instant they heard Elsie
scream. AS they entered the spare room
Dutton was sinking back upon the pillows,
pointing feebly to the scapular and gasp
ing
1.-THE President! It's yours, Elsie
Mr. Warren's first thought was for the
black man. He feared lest being slightly
wounded he might yet commit irreparable
mischief; but Wanga's evil course was at
an end. The charge of buck shot with
which the pistol had been loaded had passed
through his heart.
Mrs. Warren had gone to Dutton whose
head had fallen forward on his breast. She
raised it tenderly, and buttons eyes were
open, but there was no light of life in them.
VIII had taken UP Elsie and carried her
past the lettering gran'pa into the sitting
room. She was hysterical, and it was well
for her that she could sob her nerves to rest
in his arms.
'It is the end. Nicholas" said Mrs. War
rem, turning to her husband with CHASTITY
white face.
"Yes," he answered 1.-The end" and he
sighed profoundly. He stopped over and
picked up the scapular
Mrs. Warren burst into tears at the sight
Of it.
How shamefully thoushtless." she sob
bed, Il didn't remember today when the
doctor said that there was no hope to send
for the priest. Poor Freeman 1 ought to
have been more considerable"
Mr.. Warren had the scapulnr clenched
tight In his fist.
Il don't believe" he whispered slowly,
that Dutton wanted a priest. l don't think
So"
why, Nicholas why?"
There was the sound of horse gallopjng
along the road. 1t stopped in front of the
house
IT'S DR.. Nason." said Mr.. Warren, per
haps he knows. Well ask him.
DIR. Mason walked quickly into the room
and stopped short at the tragic spectacle be-
fore him. Then, without a word, ne knelt by
Wansa for moment, went from him to the
bed, and after brief inspection, said:
There is nothing for me to do here, my
friends Mrs. Warren, why don't you go to
your daughter?'
The daughter was not exactly in need of
her mothers comfort at the moment, but 1t
seemed to the doctor as If Mrs Warren
ought to find some outlet for her emotions in
caring for the living rather than remaining
In that grewsome chamber of horrors.