The Prince George's enquirer and southern Maryland advertiser. (Upper Marlborough, Md.) 1882-1925, 1898-07-08

"Show me a cylinder" said Es,lon
And Bartlett picked out one of
number standing on shelf.
"And all these little scratches meal
words. It's wonderful What's thi
about
Its story"
"What about!'
Its killing story"
"Anothcr murder! What man vol
are! Let me listen to it.
Bartlett shook his head, and his eye
lids were rs nervous rs his hands.
You can't listen to everything
Give it me-
But Eydon handled it still
"Is it possible to read it just from
the marks?'
Il don't know" said Bartlett, ''but
it may be. Give it me-
"No, let me listen
He moved towards the machine, but
Bartlett snatchcd the cylinder from his
hands and put it among the Others
Egdon had, however. marked it with
his thumb nail
$50 he phol,'grai,h is Your friend
in loneliness, your taIker, your convcr
sational chum, your father confessorr
Bartlett nodded
Il am doing kind ofautobiography
TO be published when I'm dead 1t
will be very interesting. 1t VIII create
an enormous sensation"
"Publish it while YOU are alive
said Egdon.
NO." said Bartlett, Il don't care
for notoriety. | should be hanged for
killing a critic
Kill one now," said Egdon; sit must
be most unpleasant to be hanged.
What kind of rope do they use, a nice
soft onc?'
1T depends on the hangman to some
extent. Egdon, | havc-'
What?'
"a bit which was used once"
''Show it me" cried Egdon.
And Bartlett showed it, bringing it
from his bedroom.
"Doyou really mean this once hanged
a man." asked Egdon, with sLiver.
II mean it" said Bartlett.
"Wha morbid brute you ar,w
cried Egdon.
"Do you wonder atter-?"
"Iour uncle being murdered right
under your-nose? No, l DON'T" said
Egdon. II say, Bartlett, let's have a
listen to that cylinder. bet it's pet
yarn Of yours. Something gruesome,
eh?"
Bartlett grinned oddly.
ooh, it's gruesome, but you shan t
hear it. Have another drink"
They drank together.
"Bartlett, you drink too much, said
Egdon, sardonically; ':since you came
into Hawkins money, you've been
drinking steadily. 1t won't pay"
at pays" cried Bartlett; "what
about blue devils in these chambers?'
"Change them"
Bartlett shook his head and frown '.
'No, | always wanted them; and
now-I've got them. I'll give them
up when the man who murdered my
uncle is-hanged."
"And go into the country"
"Nearer Mother Earth" cracked
Bartlett.
"Talk into your phonograph now,"
said Egdon; 1--WE never seen any one
use it,"
Bartlett sat down before it.
'What shall | say"
'Give us human document, in the
cant Zolaesquc.'
Bartlett laughed.
I'll tell the pl,onograph how it is
that murdercrs can't hold their
tongues. Ive had a good idea for Il
story for some one who can write pop
ular stuff The editors don't like mine.
They say I'm morbid
"Never mind the phonograph,' said
Egdon; ''let's have that other cylinder. "
No. said Bartlett, I'll do you one. ="
"Ey'1on is humbug,' said Bartlett
to his mechanical confidantc, sand isn't
as cleUer as he thinks he u.s. But I'm as
cleccr as Mry are mo'1e, and as deep as
Dcath."
lie turned about, and found Eg'lon
behind him.
''WhatT' said Bartlett, trembling
what dye want.'
"Into your bedroom cried Egdon,
grasping him by the shoulders.
But Bartlett twisted from his grasp
and sprang for the fireplace. Egdon
caught him, lifted him, and, carrying
him, threw him into the bedroom. He
turned the key.
Bartlett cried lamentably:
"Let me out, let me out!'
He bent to the keyholc.
':Don't, Egdon, DON'T
But Egdon was at his shelf.
'You' not find it!'' cried Bartlett!
LET me out! I'll kill you!'
But Egdon h:d found his thuml-
mark on the wax cylinder.
Eg'lon, Eg'lon don't DON'T" scream
ed Bartlett. -, Cod"