Wheeling Sunday register. [volume] (Wheeling, W. Va.) 1882-1934, 1899-12-24
the living room. woodrow dangled s

pair Of tiny rec morocco shoes before
her eyes when she entered.
1--WE fetched these for the little one.
Wake her up and let's try them n
! They are red and they'll please her"
"She don't need them. Let her
alone, jim"
Let her alone! Blame it, I amt go
ing to hurt her. I've been sorry all
day for what l did last night. l want
to make up with her."
TITS too late"
She had stepped on the other side
of the square dining table when she
came back to the o She leaned
upon it heavily now, with both hands.
Her eyes, wide with terror, were lifted
to the dark face before the mantel-
piece
Woodrow still swung the little red
shoes by their strings over n big
finger Of his left hand. In his right
he held his pocket-knife, which he me-
chanically opened and shut for a mo-
ment of agitated silence. When he
spoke his voice was husky.
You don't mean l hurt her serious
ly."
mo. She'll get over that"
"She won't ever have anything more
like that to get over. Just wake her
up, will you, Mag?"
Maggie took a firm grip upon the
edge of the table.
"She amt here to wake up"
"Ain't here? See here! I'm tired
of this driveling. What do you mean?"
He STROBE to the cradle and fling
ing aside the worn black cape re-
vealed it's emptiness. A howl of rage
rolled in a harsh volume Of sound
from his big throat. He turned an W
full face upon the trembling girl on the
ether side of the table.
you little devil, you! What have
! you done with the child?"
"I've put her where it will never be
in your power to strike her another
blow. I've put her where she will be
treated at least as we'll as a dog and
I'm glad I don't know the name of the
folks I've given her to-"
"Given her to? Woman, do you
suppose you can give my child away
like she was an old shoe and me never
know who to? Where have you left
the child?"
with a rich lady"
Her name?"
81 don't know it."
Her name? Don't fool with me,
Maggie. 1 might hurt you. I'm get
ting ugly. Where does she liver"
His voice had sunk ominously. The
most eager listener across the airshaft
could not have caught a word. His
heavy eyebrows were drawn together
in one dark line. His glittering eyes
were fixed dangerously on the pallid
face of his wife. She trembled visibly.
Her dry lips formed the words of her
whispered answer with difficulty.
81 don't know her name. l don't
know where she lives. I'm telling the
truth, Jim.
She could see tie cleaning knife
b-,ade close and shut n~er<@Lsly in her
husbands s:Iewy hand.
You dent know her name? Well,
you'd better find it out. I'll give you
five minutes to tell me. Not a second
over it."
81 dcn't know it, really, Jim. Let me
tell you how it was, jim"
It was a cry of terror. He had made
a step, almost a leap, toward her. His
foot caught in a jagged hole in the
carpet. He fell heavily forward with
the sharp knife opened in his hand.
He fell face downward. He uttered
no sound. A dark, hideous squirt of
blood sprang from a severed jugular
vein. He lay quite still.
Maggie stood frozen with the horror
4 of it all for what seemed to her an age.
Then she sprang toward the PROSTATE
form. 1t could not be death! She had