Tazewell Republican. [volume] (Tazewell, Va.) 1892-1919, 1899-10-05
sa1n. win q smile.

! you think | have come here to be suck
led on such prevarications? Do you
think l brought this with me for any
reason but to get from you an account
of how you discovered the purple spot
on my shirt, how you saw how it hap
pened, as you must have done, though
you don't say so in your accursed story?
Can't you see, ingenious puppy, that
mean to know, and when L know to
send you where you cannot run man
down by woodworking, nor put the
law upon him? It's your life or mine!"
with all your threats 1 said,
you're big bit of fool, Mr.. Portman,
or else your mind is unhinged. The
book was mainly written upon the
merest conception of my own, suggest
ed to me by short paragraph. l have
already told you that. The manner in
which my murderer, John Saxon, was
brought to justice for his crime was
pure fiction work. Now are you sat
isfed?"
"Nol" he replied, throwing himself
back in his chair. "What you say may
be true; 1 don't know. In any case,
your story has put me under the sus-
picion of the police and the people of
Rochdale. I am marked man, don't
doubt. Probably the police are hunt
ing me down now-now! But they
won't find the shirt"
probably you overrate the interest
the police and people of Rochdale take
in my novels and the death of your
partner" said, with an effort at calm
ness not too easy to assume.
POSSIBLY I do" he replied, in al
hoarse voice, with fugitive glance at
the door. But there is you to reckon
with now!"
"Me?" :;
Eyes, you! Do you think if I knew 1
was as safe from suspicion as before
your book was written, could leave
you after what I've said 10 you to-
night?"
What do you propose to do, then?
Give yourself over to the police, eh%
l asked ironically, for ] was weary OF
the IerrlDle nervous SIIdIll'
at is you or me, and, by my soul, l
will seal your lips!"
To my uttermost surprise he made a
sudden dash round the table at me,
but in the moment of his heightened
passion he forgot his revolver. thrust
out my arm and snatched it from the
table as 1 quickly lodged my assailant,
and, STEPPING back, 1 held the barrel in
his face.
STAND back, John Saxon, or I fre!"
I cried.
He staggered back and leaned against
the wall.
Give me the key, John Saxon" 1
said, sternly.
With his wild eyes fixed upon the re-
voIver, he took the key from his pocket
and threw it upon the table. took it
up and drew toward the door.
AS if he realized that the door would
open only to let him pass cut to the
gallows, he made desperate, sudden
spring at me as, with my left hand,
slipped the key into the lock.
"Stand back" I cried, as pushed the
revolver into the hollow of his ashy
cheek.
"Stop!" he calculated hoarsely, as
with an impetuous gesture he pushed
his lank hair off his moistened brow
with both his hands. "What are you
going to do, old man? A price, price,
price! A price-my life! I'll buy my
life! A price,"
He crept toward me, shaking his
trembling arms above his head. Sud
denly he stopped, and his eyes started
from their sockets. He threw his chin
forward as if trying to swallow some
lump rising in his throat. Then, as
sprang to him, he twisted on his heel
and fell in a heap upon the floor.
A price! Nemesis had refused his
price for life.-Chicago Herald.