Saint Mary's beacon. [volume] (Leonard Town, Md.) 1867-1983, 1897-04-01

OH
the Office, looked over the mann
script of the novel and was YER,
much pleased with it. The yer,
next day he called once more anf
returned the book, sud as Mis-
Henderson was delighted with hi
criticisms, they had u long talk
She grew almost confidential, and
when, by some chance, the name o.
Mr.. Watson came mp again, be,
lovely face grew sad aud thought.
full, and Tom felt surer than eve,
that she was doubtful OF the ven.
ture she was about to make. She
said. indeed, that Mr. Watson was
20 fond Of specalations, that she
1ssfed be ~ tekine - sse>k zisks
somctinles, Besides, he seemed OH.
ten much worried, and she knew
that the suspense in which he lived
over the large interests he had
always at stake, was injuring his
health.
This reminded Tom of the recent
robbery and of the heavy payment
to be made to Egerton &c Co, on
Wednesday afternoon. He had a
presentiment that there would be
another attempt to rob the firm,
and he had also formed certain
theory. One of his reporters had
brought him in some information
abont the porter employed by the
house. This man had once been
in prison for stealing-it was a case
of burglary, in fact.
MY idea is that the fellow il not
such an ignoramus as he pretends
to be- unused Tom. He has learn
ed how to operate the ombination
OF the safe, and having key to the
building, easily gets in at night.
Ii | am right ] shall catch him in
the act.'
So Wednesday afternoon he had
private conference with old Mr..
Egerton, and laid his plans before
him, and borrowed his key. And
that evening. about eight O'Clock,
Tom strolled down Water Street,
where the warehouse was located.
and went carelessly by the door.
This portion of the city, so busy
by day, was now deserted. The
lamps were lighted, but it still had
curlously dark and dismal look.
Tom walked back, unlocked the
front door, entered, locked it again
behind him. He felt for his re-
volver, and then proceeded to the
office.
1t was a rather small apartment :;
there was desk, with few chairs:
a map and some prints hung on
the walls; at one end stood a tall
oid-fashioned clock, and against the
wall stood the safe
Tom sat down now to consider
where he should conceal himself.
The hands of the clock indicated a
few minutes Of nine, and the burg
lar, il he came at all, probably
would not appear for several hours
yet. The wait would be long and
tedious one.
He sat, with his legs crossed, in
rather dreary reveries. The
thought of Miss Daisy Henderson
returned. What a beautiful girl
How good, how innocent! And
how baseiy he had wronged her
Well, he would make it up in the
criticism he would write of her
novel. There was never such no.
tice given of q book as he would
4 publish and it should not be q
mere puff, either, but the best lit.
erary work of which he was capa.
BILE.
'The world is all wrong, thought
poor Tom. Here she is about Il
throw herself away on that fellow
Watson, who will not appreciat,
her-who will ill-treat her, perhaps
i can see that he is both fast anc
a fool. Would she were to be mine
he sighed. 'Awfully slow work
this and he glanced at the biz
clock.
. He saw the hands now marked
quarter to ten. A whole hour hat
gone by. He was astounded. III,
sat staring at the white face of tn,
queer old time piece, when sudden
, ly the minute-hand took a jump o
! five minutes.