The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1899-08-18

skull crushed by a blow from some

office, and their chatter was like that OF
an army of blackbirds in budding
spring. Coatless men surged about the
town pump who had not seen each 9th
er for months. From all country sides
they came, and the tavern bar engaged
the two village loafers and men still
clamored to be served.
) Walking from group to group, l en-
co.ntered the marshal in company
with the two farmers who had visited
Toms shop on Saturday. They were
going toward the shop. They stopped
at the shop. My boyhood friend was
handcutfed and lodged in the calaboose
near by. Hardly had the door been
closed when farm hand brought in q
bloody blacksmith's hammer. lie had
picked it up in ditch near the scene
of the murder. Upon its grimy handle
were the initials L. X.
Those who had known Tom Kelly
from a boy never lost faith in him; but
there was the story of the farmers who
had heard his fated words, and there
the mute evidence of the bloody ham.
mer, and he was held for several days.
However, he proved a complete alibi
and was released.
Meanwhile the bereaved wife had
gone raving mad and up andhown her
little home she paced, calling day and
night her dead husbands name. Pite-
ously she prayed Heaven to restore
him to her arms. Frantically she
vowed vengeance upon his murderer.
Again and again she shrieked: "Aom
Kelly, your blood shall atone for this. ~
For she could not release him from the
dreadful accusation, though the law
was compelled by the evidence to do so.
In maddened accents she plead with
God to strengthen her arm and nerve
her heart to kill the one who had bereft
her life.
One day when she was thought to be
sleeping. exhausted from her rawlings,
she was left alone for few moments
by her watchers. Guided by the cum
ming of a craZed mind, she arose quick
ly, donned her bicycle costume, and
securing silver-mounted revolver
from the bureau drawer, slipped it in
side her jacket, mounted her wheel and
rode toward the village.
had that morning ridden from my
fathers farm into the village, stop
ping for my usual chat with Tom and
was barely started on my homeward
journey when I encountered her rid
ing toward the smithy. Her once fair
features were convulsed with hate and
madness and she was mumbling 1nco-
herently.
AS we passed she glanced up, and
the next instant shrek of rage and
q pistol note smote the air simultane-
ously. Her aim was wild, but realizing
in flash that she mistOok me for Tom
Kelly, L bent over the handle-bars and
rode with all my might.
l was a beginner on the wheel and
rode awkwardly and none too straight
or swift.
It was but the work of an instant
for the grief-crazed creature to turn
her wheel about, remount and take up
the chase. Glancing back, could see
the distance rapidly lessening, for
could scarcely keep my balance, while
my strange pursuer was mistress of
her steed and possessed of the strength
of madness.
Again she fired and the bullet whiZzed
past my head. Bending every muscle,
l strove to control my machine, calm
my excited nerves and escape from pur-
suing death. Her third bullet flew be-
tween my arm and side and glanced
downward from the handle-bar. She
was gaining at every turn of the ped
ais. What should l do? I dared not
stop OF attempt to convince her of her
mistake. l could not hold out much
longer. I could hear the whirr of her
chain close behind me. l trcmbled at
the thought of backward glance. Her
fourth bullet sung so close to my cheek
that its ashen pallor could not have
been distinguished from the gray dust
upon my clothes. 1 was losing hope
The only salvation 1 could hope for
was that she would empty the cham
bers before her aim became true enough
to hit me.
Suddenly, glancing ahead, / saw a
long freight train slowly putting to-
ward the road nearly quarter of a
mile distant. In an instant my plan
was formed Bending every energy and
leaning low over the handle-bars, !
sped on like the wind, and terror lent
wings. / was surprised at my fearful
speed for the earth beneath was blur,
and in agony lest a punctured tire
should plunge me headlong to the
earth. At last, with every muscle quiv
ering, ! shot over the rails bare two
rods ahead of the putting engine and
rode up the hill beyond, saved by a
comotive.-Banner of Gold.