The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1897-07-28
A GLUE.
NFS
CHAPTER XIII.

GLUE.
Two days had passed by since the
failure of the bank and the occurrance
of attendant unfortunate disaster, and
Arnold Dacre still fingered at Ridge.
field.
Defiant self assured, and craven. fear
full BY turns, he had lived through
those iorty.eight hours with the lament
Ing dread of q man lowering over a pow
der mine, watching the course of events,
hoping for developments that would
show the cards running his way, and
wondering what the end would be.
So far as the bank itself was con
cerned, the law very speedily acted. The
books showed accuracy and system, its
management, entire honesty. To all
seeming, dead Abel Merwyn had specu-
lated rashlY, had blindfolded his subor-
dinates to the fact, and when the crash
came had lett them to face the crisis.
There were some discrepancies in the
accounts that needed explaining, but
the old clerk John Wharton, who kept
the books OF the concern, was not called
on to elucidate them. So violent had he
become, that be had to be forcibly re-
strained, and the evening before he was
confined in the county asylum, a hope
less, mental wreck.
Arnold Dacre had sought a score Of
interviews with him, had seized upon
numerous pretences to linger near him,
to question him. In a half-lucid moment
he had caught the name Couples" from
Wharton's lips, mixed with some unin-
telllgible jargon concerning the pack
age. If clue 1t was, 1t was a frafl one,
but Dacre resolved to trace it down.
OF Flora Merwyn and her rescuer, not
word or q trace had Dacre CLEANED.
He began to believe that the convict had
ned the country with the woman he
loved. To openly battle Dacre meant
reoapture and he would scarcely risk
that and. In this way OF thinking, Dacre
at the end Of two days, decided that it
would be safe to remain at Ridgeield,
and prosecute his search for the precious
missing package.
The dead banker had been buried.
All Ridgefeld was talking about the
strange disappearance of Flora, and the
old housekeeper was fairly frantic about
her. Dacre ventured no theory or ex-
PLANTATION, but when the intelligence was
brought to the little village that Ray
Webster had escaped from the peniten-
tiary, 1t was generally decided that Flora
Fad heartlessly abandoned her dead
father, and, with what money she could
I'D, had Joined her lover, and fled to some
6lstant land. When 1T was learned
later that her personal fortune in the
city had been withdrawn from invest
ment the week previously, people be-
lieved this explanation Of her absence
more readily than ever.
1t was just at dusk the evening after
the departure Of his tool and ally for the
insane asylum, that Arnold Dacre pre-
sented himself at the door Of Wharton's
former lodgings.
AsHave you the key of Whartoh's
roo8Y' he asked q The landlady.
Yes, Sir" she replied.
Il thought SO. VIII you please let mo
hez : s1 Ese left nothing there"
Dacre knew this. He himself had su-
perintended the packing Of the trunk OF
bis unfortunate victim, in a vain search
for the missing package.
THAT is true" he vouchsafed, but ]
am in hopes OF finding some trace of Ger.
tain papers belonging to the bank secreted
about the room. The KEYS, please
Once in the room Dacre began a per-
sistent and a thorough quest. Some
where the package had been secreted.
Where? He tore up the carpet, he
delved in the CRATE, be ripped open the
bedding, he explored every nook and cor.
ner Of that many-cornered room.
''It's no use!" he groaned, sinking to a
chair, and hopping his dripping brow
desolately. What can he have done
with it, for certainly it is not here"
Tap-tap-tap!
Faint spasmodlc, the startling sum
mons fell on the door. Dacre walked
to it.
"Who is there?"
"Mr. Wharton, please let me in"
painted a weak, a wavering voice.
"Who is it?' demanded Dacre, still
bent on parleying with q possible in
truder.
"Cupp'es-Tom Cupples. Oh! it's
come aeain-help-hel-"
The voice died away suddenly. Arnold
Dacre started as from an electric shock.
Cupples! that was the name John
Wharton had employed in his incoherent
rawlings, and in connection with the miss
ing package, too.
Dacre had sought for the man, had
learned of his fidelity to the old clerk,
and CT his mysterious disappearance.
These facts, taken in connection with
his strange disappearance, his evident
ignorance of the absence Of Wharton,
smacked of suspicion. With fateful
auguries at soul, Arnold Dacrc quickly
opened the door.
'Come in
A huddled mass lying across the thres.
hold looked up at him with pleading
eyes.
why! what's the matter here?" de-
manded Dacre, harshly.
Help me- the words were a scarcely
audible tumble.
Help you! are you hurt?"
But the man, sinking back more help
lessly than ever, was silent Dacre es-
sayed to drag him across the room, and
as he placed him on the couch he OBJ
served that hands and feet were flexible
and inert, that his head hung stupidity,
while his jaws were distended as if he
had lost all control Of the muscles on one
side Of his face.
"Are you sick?" he persisted, Are
you hurt?"
sNo," gasped the other family, par
alvzed! had itzhad 1t before On, the
road it overlook me-then here Three
times and out-water!"
With pain he spoke the words. Dacre
understood. Some powerful excitement
or over-exertion had brought the poor
wretch to his final struggle with the grim
monster, paralysis.
He secured a glass of water from the
.l1, "a .roo,oa II 20 tho line of The