The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1897-06-30

started q rub"
Eailable funds low"
ID. II understand, pay
pay"
Cred from side to side and
Isinking again into insensibility,
ne crafty, eager scoundrel pressed
IN close.
Eyes, yes!" he urged, pay them! you
, mean?"
Hes gone!" fairly shrieked the old
clerk, recoiling, as with a gasp the banker
fell back rigid.
With q serious face Arnold Dacre felt
over his heart, with q blank one he arose
to his feet, scared, white to the lips.
ii hardly counted on this" he NUT
tered. That blow on his temple did it
Quick! Wharton-the false statement.
Hand it here"
''Oh, Mr.. Dacre," ~whimpered the clerk,
but he extended u folded document
put it in his pocket" ordered Dacre
rapidly. Come, oe brisk, it's no trlfling
n3tter for you and l now. Since he's
dead, we'll have to face the music. The
statement will fy all the blame on him."
Don't! DON'T: l can't" chartered the
wretched Wharton, covering by the side
of the couch. you've killed him
don't blast his reputation!"
Arnold Dacre's face famed like that of
q demon.
"You sneak! Iou poltroon!"h he Kissed,
'if you don't instantly obey me, III be-
tray who you were, what you were
when I took you in hand"
"Mercyl" gasped the half insane clerk,
sTll do it. I'll do +. Oh! why did I
ever come here"
His trembling, unsteady hands sought
to press the paper into the inside pocket
of the dead mans coat Sacrilege to the
dead, his eyes were glazing with terror,
he was babbling like al idiot driven
frantic with fright
81 can't get it in," he whined-"the
pockets full"
Empty it, them" commanded Dacre,
his eyes expressing excited thought in a
perilous dilemma What now?"
What? indeed! for the old clerks mood
had suddenly changed. He had arisen
to his feet and was glaring'Uonderirgly
at a huge wallet. which he had just re-
moved from Abel Merwyn's pocket
Look" he painted, He meant this
-"
What are you talking about" de-
manded Dacre irritably.
HE said save the bank-pa!. He
must have suspected or feared. See
money, bonds, deeds"
John Wharton spread open the wallet
1t bulged with opulence-bills of large
denomination, stocks, certificates, gov
eminent bonds. Dacre, with an eager,
avaricious cry, sprang to his side ana
gazed. too.
"Where did he gel it|" he cried.
Enough to save the bank ten times
over. Why" as his eyes lit OF the en-
dorsement of the document, 'it's Flora
Merwyn's fortune"
us it?'. murmured Wharton. What
oft? She would direct its use as he Or
dered. Pay Mr.. Dacre! Save the bank
protect this mans name from :infa my.
I'll tell the mob we'll open the do ors,
we'll"
"You idiot" cried Dacre, boiling over
at the bare hint. do you imagine Pm
q raying lunatic, with that wealth in our
power, to give it up? It's what I've
plotted for, it's the reward we've schemed
for. Give it here-eive it up, l tell 20 u!
it's mine"
With a wall, bafled in his last hopeful
struggle for atonement, the man Of one
bad deed and many good impulses, reeled
as though thrust by a tyrant's hand
back into the mire of guilt and wretched.
ness he had sought to escape.
'It's mine. l tell you, all mine!" cried
Dacre, with sparkling. gloating eyes sur.
veying the precious spoil he had wrested
from his hireling.
"No, it is mine!!"
As if dealt a sudden blow the villain
recoiled, as if fascinated by a spiritual
vIsitant the old clerk reeled back.
A small, graceful hand, that of an in.
truder who had just noiselessly entered
the room from the covered passage way
leading to the bankers home, was
stretched out, and its fair white fingers
closed about the precious pocket-book.
And, whittier than the shapeIY hands,
q face regarded the battled. amazed
plotrer with q glance or Dlngled indig'
nation, anguish, and resolve.
He covered as before Q stern tribunal.
Like an accusing angel summoning him
to the bar Of judgment, there stood be-
fore him the fair, bereaved creature he
had so cruelty w~ronged-Flora Merwyn,
the bankers daughter.