The Bourbon news. [volume] (Paris, Ky.) 1895-19??, 1897-12-21
CHAPTER II.

The reasons, however, remained for
q minute CT two longer in his own pos
session. An idea, happy thought,
brought a strange sparkle to his eyes, as
| he rose from his chair, crossed the room
and unlocked dispatch box. From this
| Ire drew red morocco case, which he
| opened and handed silently to me. 1t
contained a beautiful miniature.
"A very lovely woman" said.
my wife, sir"
1 glanced involuntarily at my hosts
wrinkled face. Was it possible that
once he had played the enchanting part
of Romeo to such Juliet as this? Or
had she married him for his wealth?
He held out his lean fingers for the
miniature, and, leaving it in the palm of
his hand, continued:
81 met her at Red Gulch, where had
made so much money. You have heard
of the Black Culch excitement; and you
know, possibly, why the place came
| to be rechristened. No? Well, I'll tell
you. 1t was the scene of a horrible
| tragedy, one of those blood-curdling
| crimes which shock the whole world
and then are forgotten. Any Old-timer
will give you the particulars; but such
| details are not to my taste; and to be
honest with you"-he shuddered-'I
| cannot trust myself to discuss them.
The crime"-his voice sank to a whisper
made a coward of me for life. Do
| you know, Mr.. Livingston, that one may
suddenly lose his grip and never re-
cover it? That happened to me. The
man who was murdered and so horri-
bly, mutilated was my partner, and
God!-my emotion will not surprise
| you when 1 add that he was killed by
mistake The assassin intended to muir
der me. My partner had arranged to
visit San Francisco to buy some ma
chinery; but at the last moment he was
unable to undertake the journey, and
went in his stead. That night the deed
was done-dOne, too, in darkness,
which accounted for the blunder in iden-
! tity. But the ferocity of the murder
cannot be described. Only man in
| spired by the most malignant hatred
could have butchered fellow-creature
as"
HE was caught red-handed. of
course?"
mo. He is still at large"
"And you know him?"
Eyes"
"But the motive, Mr.. Gerard?"
He held up the miniature and sighed
your wife!" gasped, overwhelmed
with surprise and curiosity.
'She was not then my wife. She was
married at that time to-to-the man
the fend, l say, who killed my poor
friend Ferdinand Perkins. And, fool
| that was, 1 never suspected tie truth;
and the devilish cunning of the Mon
ster threw suspicion upon another
! When learned the real facts, months
| after the tragedy had occurred, it was
| too late-toO late!"
His distress moved me profoundly.
The motive was jealousy, the jeal-
ousy of an Othello. 1 had paid attcn-
ton to his wife, blameless woman,
Mr.. Livingston, good as gold, and loyal
| to the rOffian whose name she bore.
| She must have known that 1 loved her,
for she came to me one night, two weeks
after the murder, and implored he to
take her away. I jumped at the oppor-
tunity, and asked no questions then.
! We left Red GuIch-it was called Red
Gulch because-you understandable
hind the fastest team in tie country,
but none pursued. The husband--I
! didn't know it at the time-was down
with brain fever, and raving. Well,
sir, one year later made that unhappy
lady my wife By the laws of the land,
but, at her special request, secretly.
She easily obtained a divorce from her
first husband, on the ground of deser-
ton and failure to provide. He had dis
appeared. But, to my amazement. my