Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1897-07-03

Il can't make out" he suffered,
why you fare to come to me at all.'
90 course you can't" said Cattermole,
ironically.
IF I'd been you I'd ha' run anywhere
but where 1 was known So WELL
You would. would you? I hen you knew
I'd got out, eh, old man.
Just been a-readinS about it in this
here paper
II see--I see. 1 caught bit o what you
was a-saying to yourself. just as l was
thinking ii was safe thing TO come out
o that cold parior o yours. SO that was
me you was locking ont, was it? Ye: you
pretend you don't know why | come, You
know well enough. You know-you know"
The convict had seated himself on the
kitchen table, and was glarirg down on
the trembling old nan in the chair. He
wore long overcoat. and under it some
pitiful rags. The cropped lead and the
legs swinging in the striped stockings were
the only discriminating features, and old
Fitch CHANGING from the one to the
other, wondering why neither had saved
him from this horrible interview. Cate
mole read his thoughts, and MS eyes
CLEANED.
so you think I've come all the way in
these here. do you?" lie cried, tapping ore
shin. Il tell you, I've walked and walked
till my bare legs were frozen and then sat
behind hedge and slipped these Oh and
rubbed them 10 life again! Where 90 YOU
think l got these rotten old buds? Off of
ing to break into no houses end leave my
tracks all along the line. But yesterday
got a long lift in n goods train, or
shouldn't be here now; and last night l
did crack a crib .or this here overcoat and
bit O supper, and another for the shoot
er. That didn't SO much matter then. I
was within twenty mile of you! OF you.
you old devil-do You hear?
Fitch nodded with an ashen face.
And now do you know why I've Gomez"
Fitch Eloistened his blue lips. Toto
murder me,' he whispered, like a dying
man"
That rests with you," said the convict,
fondling his weapon
What do you want me to dor
Confess"
Confess what?' whispered Fitch.
THAT you swore HE away at the trial"
The old man had been holding his breath:
he now expelled it with a deep sigh. and
taking out huge red handkerchief wiped
the moisture from his face Meanwhile tie
convict had deserted writing materials on a
chiffonnler, and placed them on the table
beside the brandy bottle and the tobacco
jar
Turn your chair round for writing
Fitch did so.
Now take up your per and write what
tell You. Don't cock your head and look at
me! l hear the psalm singing we'll as
you do: they've only just got started, and
nObody1l come near us for another hour
Pity ycu didn't go, too, isn't it? Now write
what tell you, word for word, or, so help
Fitch dipped his pen in the ink. After
all what he was about to write would be
written. under dire intimidation, and no
body would attach any importance to state
nents so obtained. He squared his elbows
to the task
~. Samuel Fitch began Cattermole, do
hereby swear and declare before God AL
nighty-before God Almighty have YOU got
that down?-that i, Samuel Fitch, did bear
false witness against my neighbor, Henry
Cattermole, at his trial at Bury assiZes,
November 20, 1887. It is true that 1 saw
both Henry Cattermole and James Savage
his lordships gamekeeper, in the woods at
Wolhorough on the night of September 9
in the same year. 1t is true that / Yves
there by appointment with Savage, as his
wife stated in her evidence. 1t is not true
that l heard shot and heard Savage sing
out, Harry Cattermole!" as 1 came up
ard before ever l had word with him.
That statement was deliberate fabricsl-
ton on my part. The real truth is-but
hold on! I'm likely going too fast for you
I've had 1t in my head that long. How
much have you got down, eh?'
Fabrication on my part" repeated old
Fitch. in trembling voice, as he waited
for more.
Good. Now pull yourself together" said
Cattersnole, suddenly cooking his revolver
The real truth is that 1, Samuel Fitch,
shot James Savage with my own HANDY"
Fitch threw down his pen.
That's lie.' he gasped. Il never did!
l won't write it,
Prefer to die in your chair, eh?"
YES"
IN give you one minute by your own
watch
Still covering his man, the convict held
out the other hand for the watch and had
momentary contact with a cold, damp one
as 1t dropped into his palm. Cattermole
placed the watch on the table where both
could see the dial.
Your minute begins now" said he. and
all at once the watch was ticking like an
eight-day clock.
Fitch rolled his head from side to side
Fifteen seconds" said Cattermole
The old mans brow was white and span-
gled like the snow outside.
Haif-tlme, said Cattermole
Five. ten, fifteen, twenty seconds passed;
then Fitch caught up the PEN Go on
he groaned. "I'll write any line you like;
word of it," Yet the persipration was
! streaming down his face; it splashed upon
the paper as he proceeded to write, in
trembling characters, at Cattermole's die
t2ticn.
- The real truth Is that 1, Samuel Fitch,
shot James Savage with my own hand
The circumstances that led to my shooting
him L will confess and explain hereafter
When he had fallen 1 heard a shout and
but L saw Harry Cattermoie, the peacher
trip clean over the body. His gun went of
in the air, and when he tried to get up
again. l saw he couldn't because he'd
twisted his ankle He never saw me;
slipped away ard gave my false evidence
and Harry Cattermole was caught escaping
from the wood on his hands and knees,
empty gun. / gave evidence against
| him TO stop him giving evidence against