Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1896-07-15

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It seems hours before he can unfold and
read the dispatch.
the private Office and commenced writ.
ing rapidly. Pape after page is covered
in nervous, restless haste Often tears
come to his eyes and blot the paper upon
which he is pouring out an impassioned
farewell letter to his wife. Shortly after
4 O'Clock the bookkeeper taps at his door
and =, asks if he shall remain longer.
mo, thank you, Morgan" is the reply.
II shall leave soon myself. - Then,
when Morgan Is gone, Kendall hastens
to bolt the door opening t the corridor.
He has finished the letter to his wife
when the knob Of the door is turned
and some one attempts to enter. Kendall
remains very quietly in his chair, scarce
ly breathing for fear his presence may
be betrayed. Again the door is tried,
and when it fails to yield shutting steps
pass down the corridor.
"a detectivel" he exclaims in whis-
per. "Let him come later and look upon
the work he and his fellows have
wrought" "
Now he bends himself to the task of
writing to the authorities and the pub
lie. He unbosoms all his pent up agony,
and declares that in this his last hour of
life he cannot Look back over the past
and discover one dishonest act "Let
the suspicion that I am guilty Of crime
die when die" he writes "Time will
clear up this mystery, but I cannot live
and go out and in among you suspect
ed man"
He has read his letters carefully and
sealed them in envelopes His hand
trembles when he tries to write his
wife's name on the one intended for her,
and it is several minutes before he can
finish the address Slowly he rises from
his chair and stands with bowed head
and clasped hands, his lips moving in
broken appeals for mercy and forgive
ness for the horrid crime he has deter
mined to commit He turns suddenly,
and thrusting his hand into one Of the
compartments Of the desk brings forth q
weapon of glistening, polished steel
There is no trembling, no hesitancy
now. He is as firm, as unyielding as
iron, and with a deliberation that is
blood curdling he examines the revolver
to make sure it is in order. Satisfied
with his examination, he moves toward
the rear Of the Office as though he would
not have his body lie in the doorway,
but pauses and stands listening breath
lessly as he hears footsteps again ap-
preaching his door. The knob turns and
the door is shaken gently.
Kendall wishes his heart would not
beat so loudly, for he fears the detective
will hear it and demand entrance. 1T
will all be over before he can force the
door," whispers the despairing man as
he raises the revolver to his temple
"JohnP'
Godl It is his wifei What has brought
her here? Never mind; he will keep
quiet, and when she receives no reply
she will think he is elsewhere and 60
away. He cannot, he must not see her
again.
"Johni My husband!' rises the plead
ing, anxious voice at the door. 'Let me
in, deari I want to see you. Quick"
No answer. He dare not see her.
Though his slender form shakes with an
emotion that almost causes him to fall,
he makes no reply. He hears her drop
on her knees at the threshold and then
the beating Of her hands against the
heavy oaken panels
20 God, if it be thy will," she
cries, "let this cup Of bitterness pass
from my lips! John, John, if death has
not claimed you, open this door! 1t is !,
Anna, and have news for you'll Come,
quick-it is here-a telegram! The mes
senger could not find you and SO brought
it to the house.
A telegraml News! The blood surges
to his head and the room seems to whirl
about him The revolver drops from his
nerveless fingers. He dashes to the door
and shoots back the bolt The pitiful,
almost despairing woman kneeling there
realizes she has not come too late and
tries to extend the hand in which Is
crumpled bit Of yellow paper as she
sinks PROSTATE in the doorway. In his
awful haste it seems hours before he can
unfold and read the dispatch, and when
he has done so he reels, gasps, feels that
the floor is slipping away from him and
sinks into Inconsistencies.
The detective, whose coming Kendall
had anticipated. hurries along the hall
way, for he has heard the fall Of body
and fears that he may have been too late
to prevent the crime of self destruction.
He stands for moment appalled, at the
sight before him, believing that he is In
the presence Of death. Then he notices
the open telegram lying close by Ken
dall's outstretched arm, and catching it
hastily from the floor reads this mes
sage:
RURALvILJE, o., Oct 4.
To John Kendall. Room 03, Commercial Build
ing. New York:
Powell here and well. Letters follow this
message. STACEY CocHRANE-
TO BE CONTINUED.