The Chanute times. [volume] (Chanute, Kan.) 1897-1913, 1900-07-20
CHAPTER vII.-(continued.)

grey and haggard.
Eyes, they've got warrant! George,
you are innocent, aren't your
Eyes, am innocent" he returns, In
dull sort of way. my poor mother,
you'll stand to her, doctor?"
George! oh, my SOM" His mothers
arms are round him. She has heard
every word. Her voice is full OF
agony-an agony that is like sword
in her heart.
Mother, my poor mother!' The
mans face works as he holds her to
him tight.
God bless my SOUL" shouts the
doctor, what are we coming to when
man like Eaville can act on
trumped-up pack of rubbish? My dear
Mrs. Bouverie, don't let this worry
you, it is all wretched mistake!
George, man, say you can set 1t
rightv'
There was no shame in the eyes of
George Bouverie. A kind Of proud
light leaps into them for a moment;
then he puts his mother gently into the
whatever happens, believe I am in
nocent." Then he turns to the SER
geant. "Now, then, 1 am ready to go
with YOU"
Mrs. Bouverie does not see the
browning act of disgrace as her son
walks out of his own home prisoner
into the goodly light of the setting
foin nd
with closed eyes, unconscious of the
young golden head, that, for the first
time in his life, George bows with
shame.
He gets up on the car, with white
lips and a stony face. His eyes are
fixed and show no wavering. And, be-
fore night falls, all Portraven stands at
it's doors discussing the bank robbery
and the arrest of Mr.. Bouverie; while
the cashier lies in his lodgings, and
turns his face to the wall, limp heap
OF shudderins humanity.
His landladv hurries to tell him that
Mr.. Bouverie has been taken. Mr..
Grey only shivers and buries his chat
tering teeth and leaden face in the bed
clothes.
1t is Doctor Carter who, with tears
in his eyes, breaks to Mrs. Bouverle
the terrible intelligence that her son
has been brought before the magis-
trates and committed for trial on the
charge of robbery and murderous as
sault.
"He never did it," sobs the old man;
1'but it looks very black against him.
Poor lad! He wouldn't say where he
got the money he was wiring off to
that scoundrel, the bookmaker, and
that went dead against him; and that
fellow Grey stuck to his story. He
swore it was George who attacked him
he swore it through thick and thin.
On the face of evidence like that the
magistrates had nothing to do but send
the case for trial; but l can't believe
it of George can't indeed"
Yet the doctor is wavering. Facts
are stubborn ,---ngs and honorable
men have become thieves and crimi-
nails before now. Mrs. Bouverie lies
worn out with grief and anxiety.
would | had died for thee, my
SOM" she means, as David did, and can
take no comfort. Her boy, her idol,
sent to prison, condemned already in
the eyes of the world. Yet her faith
has never wavered. George said he was
innocent. and God in His own good
time will make that innocence clear.
"Then there was that awkward bit
of evidence about the chloroform," the
doctor goes on, examining and sitting
every bit of evidence. Dale, that
chemist, swore that George had
bought that chloroform for the de-
struction of a diseased cat"
THAT was true" Mrs. Bouverie lifts
her heavy, tear-wet eyes for second.
Eyes; but George couldn't say he
had used the chloroform, and that told
against him. Saville jumped at that
point"
my poor cat died. She was a pet,
and she was caught in trap. To
spare my feelings, George said he
would give her chloroform. She was
dead before he got back from Port
raven. and afterwards he said he had
thrown the bottle away. Oh, Doctor
Carter, you know my boy is innocent!
These hideous doubts must be dis
solved! l feel so weak, so heartbroken,
SO friendless!" sobs the poor LADY,
"and my poor George was SO happy
Just before this happened-engaed to
Barbara Saville, and looking forward
to going out to Tasmania"
The doctor draws long whistle.
"That accounts for the milk in the
cocoanut-that sour-visaged Saville
means to marry the girl himself. 1t
is as plain as daylight now. That is
why he is so dead against Georgel"
Mrs. Bouverie clasps her trembling
hands and bows her grief-stained
face.
George in prisonl Doctor Carter.
God only knows my agony My poor
poor boy. weak as he may have been,
but criminal neverw
Doctor Carter tries to comfort and
console her.
There, there, let 1t come to trial;