The Wilmington daily Republican. (Wilmington, Del.) 1890-1902, 1899-02-06

Ihs man looked at me dotibtfully.
more often terribly wide awake, wet,
cold and hungry. When dusk came, he
ventured forth again in quest Of food
and lodging, which he must have il he
wished to keep mind and body together.
He struggled on for couple Of hours.
covering little ground, although strain.
ing every nerve. There were lights Of
homestead In the distance, for which
he made without even attempting to
ooncoct likely tale to account for his
appearance, but fate was dead against
him. The rain had ceased now, but il
had left the ground thick with slush,
through which the weary fugitive strug-
gled like drunken man. The lights he
was making for seemed ever to recede
like will-o'- the .wisps, and Fenton grew
dimly conscious he could not reach
them.
There was no other building at hand,
no roof to shelter him, but he could 60
no farther. His legs refused to move,
his head was bursting, and with cry
Of awful helplessness and despair he
sank down upon the clammy ground, at
last unconscious Of all his woes.
.
It WAS two days afterward when Fem
ton regained consciousness. When he
opened his eyes, be was in a strange
bedroom. He gave feeble cry Of sur
prise, and, as il in response, an old
dame appeared at the bottom Of the bed.
"Thank God, ye've come round at
last. I thought it wer' all up wi ye
once. But doan't ye talk now. just ye
drink this and goa to sleep. T. master
will tell ye all about it when q comes
'oam."
With a sigh Of contentment Fenton
did as he was told.
When next he opened his eyes, they
fell upon familiar form. There by his
bedside was the burly farmer who had
travelled with him from Willesden !
Fenton could not repress cry Of aston
ishment. The farmer seemed to enjoy
his surprise.
"Aye, lad, it's one Of the ouriosest
things liver card Of. I said 'Goodby'
to ye at Manchester, and nivver thowt
Of seeing ye ag'in, and two days after
ward I finds ye in my three acre pasture
in pretty fever. knew'd ye at onct,
although ye'd changed yer toys and
shaved yer mustash. Ye've been in
trouble, lad. I could tell fro yer raw.
ings. But nivver mind. No ones heard
'em but me and t. missis, 'cept our
Jeames, who helped me to carry ye in;
and I've squared Jeames not to let on"
"What did say?" anxiously asked
Fenton.
aye talked strange lot Of stuff,
lad, abaht girl-thear's generally
woman at bottom Of moast things; and
ye seemed to be terribly fond Of this
un. And then ye called out Murderp
-ay, 'Murderp and spoke of glass
dagger, or some such silliness. Then ye
seemed to be running away, and it was
as much as the three Of us could do to
hold ye in the bed"
Fenton started up excitedly. "Good
Godr' he cried. ~ am lostr'
"Lay ye down ag'in, lad" said the
farmer, pushing him back with rough
gentleness "Whativver ye've done, III
not be the man to give ye away. l had
lad Of my own once, and reckon
ye're some mothers son."
Fenton grasped the farmers hand in
dpmh thankfulness,
"Nay, nay, Iad-it's nowt. Ye must
go to sleep now, and think ye're in yer
own bed at 'oam.
But even as the farmer spoke there
was a sound of tramping feet, and a
voice thick with drink was heard pro-
testing:
"Noa, noa, Ward; didn't tell ye
owt. TAX yerself off before t. master
COMES"
Don't be o fool, James. / must go
up stairs and look at him. said an au-
thoritative voice.
The farmer started toward the door,
but before he reached it the big form of
. policeman was in the room. He gave
. quick glance at the man on the bed,
and then said, with busting impor-
lance:
George Fenton, arrest you for the
murder of Harriet Staplesl''