Omaha daily bee., 1899-04-09

TO Mr.. Courtney ] really have no more
to say and | am tired"
did you see the figure of the man who
! brushed by you in the wood? Was it thar
OF the old man you saw on the doorstep?"
Al this direct question Frederick quivered
| In spite Of his dogged self-control But she
with her face upturned to meet the scrutiny
! OF the speaker showed only a childish kind
! OF wonder Why do you ask that? Is
! there any doubt about its being the same? o"
What an actress! Frederick stood ap-
! palled. He had been amazed at the skin
! with which she had manipulated her story
SO as to keep her promise to him, and yet
| leave the way open for that further con-
! tession which would alter the whole into
denunciation of himself which he would find
| 1t difficult If not impossible to meet But
this extreme dssimulation made him lose
! heart 1t showed her to be an antagonist
of almost illimitable resource and secret de-
termination.
Il did not suppose there could be any
doubt" she added, in such natural tone
Of surprise that Mr.. Courtney dropped the
subject, and DR.. Talbot turned to Sweet
water, who for the moment seemed to have
! robbed Knapp of his rightful place as the
| coroner's confidant
shall we let her go for the present?"
he whispered. "She does look tired, poor
| girl"
The public challenge which Sweetwater
had received made him wary, and his reply
was guarded one.
Il do not trust her, yet there is much to
| confirm her story. Those sandwiches now!
She says she dropped them in Mrs. Webb's
yard under the pear tree, and that the bag
that held them burst open. Gentlemen, the
tr11
after the murder that l could not but notice
them, Notwithstanding my absorption in
greater matters. l remember wondering
what they were all pecking at so eagerly.
Then the length of time that elapsed be-
tween the moment label was seen rushing
| from Mrs. Webbs gate and the hour in
| which he bought the bread has never been
! quite accounted for. Though l doubt that
so old man would find strength for that
| journey to the woods l can but acknowl-
edge that it would account for those very
minutes have had some difficulty in
filling up. But the flower whose presence
| on the scene of guilt she challenges me to
eXplain How about that sirs? And then
| the money so deftly reburied by her? Can
any explanation make her other than ac-
| cessory to a crime on whose fruits she lays
her hand in way tending solely to conceal
ment? No, sirs and so l shall not relax my
| vigilance over her actions, even IL, in order
| to be faithful to it, / have to suggest that
| warrant be made out for her imprison-
| ment"
You are right" acquiesced the coroner
and, turning to Knapp, he suggested that
Miss Page was such an important witness in
| this matter that perhaps it would be better
to have her down in the town. where she
could be more easily under his eye.
Nothing could have pleased Mr. Suther-
land better. Glancing at Frederick, and see
| ing that he was rather pleased than
disturbed by this suggestion, he gave his
unqualified approval and Miss Page was
notified of the coroner's wishes.
She made no objection. On the contrary
her cheeks dimpled and she turned away
with alacrity to prepare herself for de-
parture. But before going she approached
the coroner and said persuasvely:
Il have told you all that came to my mind
this moment. But after thinking it over l
may remember some little details that have
escaped me today"
Call her back" cried Mr. Courtney
"She has kept back something; let us hear
it ALL
But Mr.. Sutherland, with side look at
Frederick, whispered: wait! She is a
subtle creature and under the excitement
of the moment will contrive to elude you
Catch her alone, Mr.. Courtney, catch her
alone, and if she has secret you of all
men will succeed in surprising it,
He had noted that the rest were too pre-
occupied to observe that Frederick had
reached the limit of his strength and could
not be trusted to preserve his composure
any longer under this searching examina-
tion into the conduct of a woman from
whom he had so lately detached himself.
The next day was the day of Agatha's
funeral
She was to be buried in Fortchester. by
the side of her six children, and, as the day
was fine, the whole town, by common
consent assembled in the road along which
the humble cortege was to make its way to
the spot indicated.
From the windows of farm houses, from
| between the trees of the few scattered
thickets along the way, saddened and Curl
GUS faces looked forth till Sweetwater, who
walked as near as he dared to the immediate
friends of the deceased, felt the impossi-
bility of remembering them all and gave
up the task in despair.
| Before one house. about mile out Of
town, the procession paused, and at a gesture
from the minister, every one within sight
took off their hats, amid hush which made
almost painfully apparent the twittering
of birds and the other sounds of animate
and inanimate nature, which are inseparable
from a country road. They had reached
| Widow Jones cottage, in whicn Philemon
was then staying.
The front door was closed, and so were
tho lower windows, but in one of the upper
easements a movement was perceptible, and
in another instant there came into view a
woman and man, supporting between them
the impossible form of Agathas husband.
Holding him up in plain sight of the almost
breathless throng below the woman pointed
to where his darling lay and appeared to
say something to him.
Then there was to be seen a strange sight.
The old man, with his thin white locks fut-
tering in the breeze, leaned forward with a
smile, and holding out his arms cried in a
faint, but joyful tone Agatha" Then, as
il realizing for the first time that it was
death he looked upon and that the crowd
below was a funeral procession his face
altered and he fell back with a low heart
broken moan into the arms of those who
supported him.
AS his white head disappeared from sight
the procession moved on and from only one
| Of of n