The record-union. [volume] (Sacramento, Calif.) 1891-1903, 1897-04-03
THE GHOST OF A GALLONS.

1t was an extremely awkward stu
alton. Even l. who am somewhat slow
TO think as a rule, realized that IN
stantly. At my feet in the dusty road
way lay revolver still hot and smok-
ing from its discharge. the report OF
Which had just startled the quiet of that
country lane, while not forty feet away
from me there lay in the road the body
OF a man who had fallen from a dog
cart to the ground, apparently stone
dead. And the worst of it was that the
man who lay there in the road was my
bltterest enemy.
The horse stopped and swerved with
terror at the discharge of the pistol and
this action threw the man, dead or
wounded, from the cart The groom,
Who was sitting back to back with his
master, jumped from the vehicle and
ran toward the PROSTATE figure, While
the horse, left entirely to his own de-
vices, came toward and went past me in
mad gallop.
AS drowning man thinks so did l, in
that brief period. When the groom
reached the body of his master he saw
In an instant that the man was dead
Then he looked at me. | was still re-
viewing the situation. But there WASH t
much time to spare.
1t was not l who fired the fatal shot.
The road at this point was lined on one
side with a high hedge, and 1 knew that
the murderer had fired from this am
bush mad dexterously thrown the re-
volver to where it lay, just at my feet.
But 1 was quick enough to realize hat
IL Ia holt
this unless proof of the real murderer
could be produced.
Instantly l knew that my only hope
lay in his capture, and 1 Immediately
dashed through the hedge in search of
him, while the groom, thinking no doubt
that l was attempting to make my es-
cape, came in hot pursuit of me.
Inside of the hedge there was no sign
of any living being. The fair green
fields stretched away to the hillside
beyond which the white walls of farm
house were just visible, as peacefully as
If there could be no such thing as a
tragedy which had just taken place
upon the other side of the hedge.
looked up and down the long hedge row
in vain. There was not the slightest
clew to the murderer to be seen.
However, determined that the man
might possibly make for the railroad
station. from whence I had just come,
for l knew that there was a train to
the city due in a few minutes Could the
ruffian catch it? If not 1 reflected ]
might easily telegraph to the next sta
ton and have him apprehended.
l was running all the time as hard
as l could inside of the hedge and to-
ward the railway station. The groom
had given up pursuit of me, doubtless
thinking it his duty to return to his
masters body. 1t wanted six minutes
before the train was due, as 1 saw by
a hasty glance at my watch, but l
did not know how far the station was
from where the murder occurred.
I never ran so hard in my life before,
but felt that my fife depended on the
chance of securing the murderer and
consequently the effort cost me no
strain. My wind began to tell on me,
however. at the end of the first quarter
mile, and l was just wondering vaguely
how long l could keep il up when
came upon the empty dog cart with the
runaway horse quietly cropping grass
by the roadside. Here was luck in
deed. I jumped into the cart as speed
lily as my exhausted strength would
let me, and gathering up the reins
struck the whip and we We're off as
fast as the animal could run toward
the station.
I estimated that there was still two
minutes before the train was due. and
felt sure that the station could not be
more than a third Of a mile distant.
Suddenly 1 heard the whistle of the
locomotive. and with it came an inspi-
ration.
The murderer might never be found.
At all events. I could not lay hands on
him just then. Why not take the
train and make good my own escape
while the opportunity presented itself
1t seemed a terrible thing to thus flee
from justice because of a crime which
/ had not committed, but 1 could not
for my life see any other course open.
So [ urged the animal to still greater
speed, and pulling up at a bend in the
road before | reached the station, /
jumped down and ran, just in time to
scramble upon the train as it was NOV
ing off.
1t was a curious freak of chance, If
indeed it was chance alone. which had
brought me down to Hopevflle that
morning and thrust me into the unen-
viable position of a suspected murderer.
/ had received a telegram from Ran
dolph Cutting the man Mhom / had
just seen murdered. asking me to come
down Immediately to Hopeville and in
obedience to this summons / had taken
an early morning train down from New
York. Hopeville is an exceedingly un-
pretentious little New Jersey village, if
indeed a country store and two small
houses beside the station could be SO
described. When / stepped out of the
train / looked about in vain for Ran
dolph Cuttings carriage. AS it was
not to be seen and as anything in the
shape of a hired conveyance was an
utter impossibility at Hopeville, I set
out at a brisk walk in the direction OF
Randolph Cuttings place, which
knew from a former visit was about a
mile and a half from the station.
Randolph Cutting and / were second
cousins, and the very slight degree OF
affection which always existed between
us was not increased materially at the
death of an uncle of ours, who left his
money to me, and whose will was SC