The Calhoun chronicle. [volume] (Grantsville, W. Va.) 1883-1984, 1898-03-01

III
W., >I&0S the police marshal.
''Volunte cred; said
he'd just come out of the hospital
after spell of sickness-was n
stranger, and had nothing to do; had
been reading accounts of the murder,
and wanted to try for the reward, so /
let him go ahead. He claims to have
two clews-a broken iron seal and a
torn piece of coat lining. Here he is
now"
A man of about thirty-tive entered
the room where the two officials were
sitting
Anything new, Adams?" said the
chief.
''Yes, sir" replied the newcomer,
emphatically. "How could we have
missed it? Look at thatl''
Carefully he took from his pocket n
large, white envelope, stamped and
postmarked. 1t was partly torn, but
this much of the superscription re-
manned; Mr.. William Dryden, Fair
The chief examined it curiously,
and then said, rather contemptuous-
ly:
"Why, Adams. we found bushel of
old envelopes in the dead lawyers
Office. You haven't abandoned the
seal clew?"
The chief winked merrily at the
police marshal, but q moment later he
bit his lip with vexation mt his own
stupidity.
81 have abandoned nothing, sir, ="
Il
have accounted for every person we
know of who entered the lawyers
Office the morning of the murder
We have missed this man Dry
den. Examine the postmarks on
the other, that of Fairfield of August
10. Dryden received that envelope
on the morning of the murder, came
straight to the city and went to Eos
ters office with it. How else would
it have gotten there? Dryden killed
him. and l am going to get Dryden. {"
He was on the train the following
morning for the suburban town of
Fairfield During the long, sleepless
hours of the night the name of Dry
den had haunted him. He had tried
his best to recollect who it was of that
name he had once known, but at last
he gave it up with q gesture of wear
led resignation. Notwithstanding his
loss of sleep he was feverishly awake.
He was on the eve Of solving the
great murder mystery. There was no
one to divide with him either the
honor or the reward, not even Jack
son, his enyious brother detective.
What better avocation could he have
chosen, and ut time, too, when the
future had seemed so hopeless?
1t was but short ride to Fairfield.
Adams went at once to the little coun-
try hotel. AS he registered he looked
up at the portly landlord and casually
asked:
'Any city people here?"
"a few, sir The Bradburys. the
Gillespies, old Mr.. Dundon and young
Mrs. Dryden, poor thingl"
"Why poor thing'?"
He tried to conceal his anxiety in
the question, and felt he had failed.
But the landlord was stupid and
loquacious.
Didn't we hear OF it. sir? Her
husband left here the middle of August
aud has mover been heard of since
Some thinks he's dead, but his wife
don't He was only here once-I was
away at the time. She never leaves
her room now, except to 20 TO the
post0flicc every day"
Adams was at the postonice the next
day at the time the morning mail was
being distributed. He kept i'm the
background, for he wished TO see
without being seen. Already he felt
ashamed Of himself. The idea OF spy
ing upon broken hearted woman and
laying n trap for the one she loved.
was something more than merely dis
tasteful 20 him.
She came at last q fair, golden
haired woman Even nj distance
he knew that IL was she before he
made an inquiry. As she drew near
ho retired behind an alcove i'm the
postodico and watched her with star
ing eyes. Slowly aud with aeeminQ
reluctance she left tho delivery
window after her futile crroni
in her face there was an cvorcs-
sion Of infinite sadness, vet in
her eyes still hickered the light OF
hope. Adams stood there Iona after
she had disappeared stood there
knowing we'll that his mission was r.,
an end. Never through his efforts
would her husband DO captured.