The Princeton union., 1900-04-12

Jail. modern red brick structure ad-
Joining the courthouse in the center
OF the town. When they arrived the
Jailer, short, thickset man, with a
bald spot on his head, was playing
checkers in the yard with the ordinary
of the county. The jailer answered to
his name reluctantly, without looking
up from the board.
You'd better git up from thar"
called out Ratcliff, jocularly. ''The
taxpayers say they are tired O payin'
you, fellers wages to draw flies like
sleepin' niggers in the courthouse
square,
The jailer crowned king and got
up from the grass with a lingering
backward glance at the hand of his
opponent. "What's wanted?" he
asked as he drew near the buggy.
''Mr. Henderson, you remember Mr.
Fanshaw, of Honeycut Destrict," re-
minded Ratcliff. Hes the feller that
helped me out last summer with that
lynchin' crowd over our way. Well,
he's settled sgd Harris hash to-day
an will have to register at yore She
bang till Monday, reckon. 1 want you
to make i'm comfortable. jeff; he's a
friend O. minc''
"I'll do the best 1 can," promised the
jailer; ''but You know all the cells are
alike"
They followed him into the Jail and
up the stone steps to a heavy iron door
at the head Of the stairs. The room
was too large to be called cell. it
was light, having four windows, which
were heavily barred, and 4 bed that
was faultlessly clean. AS Ratcliff and
the jailer>were leaving, the sheriff asked
Ronald if he could do anything for
him.
Ronald told him he could think OF
nothing; indeed, he could think of moth
ing at the moment but sgd Hart's eyes
Sgd Hart's blood.
"You'u have to have a lawyer" sug-
gested Ratcliff.
"Then send Mr.. Redding to me-" said
the prisoner.
When they had left him, Ronald
threw himself on the bed and stared
up at the ceiling. Hart's corpse had
way of coming before him with new
force each time that 1t made it's ap-
pearance. 1t approached him now in
solitude oftener and with more tena-
cious reality than ever. The afternoon
died slowly. 1t began to grow colder
as the sun went down, and the light
against the western sky turned from
yellow to gray. Once he fancied he
saw the body on the floor by his bed,
in the shadow, just as it was lying when
he had last beheld 1t. Almost with a
prayer for protection he turned his
face away and stifed a scream, and
yet the feeling of actual guilt had not
come to him. He tried to draw Evelyn
into his thoughts, but there was cold
comfort in the memory that he had
bl;ghted her life as we'll as his own.
Could he have done so then, he would
have killed her affection for him that
she might have the peace of soul that
was denied him. He heard steps on the
stairs and key ratified in the lock
of little iron door in the wall, and
through it came d woman's voice:
''Here's yore supper, Mr.. Fanshaw.
It was the jailer's wife, and he arose
and took the plate of food and cup
Of hot coffee from her hands.
''Mr. Ratcliff stopped at the door just
now," she said, in a cold, methodical
tone, IAN he said tell you Mr.. Reddin
was out in the country, but~he'd left
word at his house fur i'm to come an
see you as soon as he got back
When she had gone, Ronald put the
plate on the bed (there was no table
in the room) and washed his hands and
face in the tin basin, but somehow the
cold water added to the general chill