The Irish standard., 1900-06-23
The World Against Him
BY WILL N. HARDEN.
Copyright, 1900, by
Ar. Kellogg Newspaper Company.
CHAPTER XII.

CHAPTER XII
Twenty minutes later they were in
the sheriff's buggy, on the way to
Danube. Ratcliff had put q chesp cigar
between his teeth, but he was not go
ing to light it till they were entering
the town.
"Thar's one disagreeable feature" he
remarked. "At first, my idea was to
hurry up an git it over, so you wouldn't
have to go to Jail at all; but it has
Just struck me that this is Saturday,
an it is sometimes awkward work to
have trial the last day O. the week.
You see the prosecution will want to
summon Thad Williams, an that will
take time. Then, as tomorrow is Sun
day, you may have obleeged to wait
over till Monday"
Ronald told him that it would mako
little difference to him whether hs
spent the time in jail or out.
"You feel that away now," comment
ed the sheriff, "but you will feel diff
ferent when you git in thar, at least
that's my experience with prisoners,
A Jail house is like a woman's bonnet;
it has better look from the outside
than the inside"
Just before driving into the public
square Ratcliff struck match and ap-
Piled the fame to his cigar, then he
drew himself up more erectly and
drove on to the Office of Judge Richard
son, the magistrate. A man coming
out told Ratcliff that the judge had
gone out to his farm to spend Sunday.
you see," said Ratcliff, as he pulled,
and seemed to view himself from the
standpoint of group of citizens who
had gathered on the sidewalk and
whose eyes were asking what had hap
pened. One of the crowd stepped out
to the buggy and asked if Ronald was
under arrest, but he received only .
non-committal grin and shrug a
Ratcliff turned his horse towards the
Jail, modern red brick structure ad-
joining the courthouse in the center
of the town. When they arrived the
TALLER, 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. 1.-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 lingering
backward glance at the hand of his
opponent. whats wanted7" he
asked as he drew near the buggy.
"Mr. Henderson, you remember Mr.
Fanshaw, of Honeycut Destrict," re.
minded Ratcliff. "He's the Teller 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, I reckon. 1 wantyou
to make i'm comfortable, JEFF; he's a
friend O. mine."
"I'll do the best can," promised the
jailer; "but you know all the cells are
alike"
They followed him into the Jail and
up the stone steps to heavy iron door
at the head of the stairs. The room
was too large to be called cell. 1t
was light, having four windows, which
were heavily barred, and 4 bed that
was faultlessly clean. AS Ratcliff and
i 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 ut the moment but Sgd Harris eyes
Sgd Harris blood.
you'll have to have 4 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. Harris corpse had
a way of coming before him with new
force each time that it made it's ap.
pearance. 1t approached him now in
solitude oftener and with more tena,
cious reality than ever. The afternoon
died slowly. It 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 Z
prayer for protection he turned hil
face away and stified 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
blighted her life as well az 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 tho loci
Of little iron door in the wall, and
through it came 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 cur
of hot coffee from her hands.
"Mr. Ratcliff stopped at the door just
now" she said, in cold, methodica!
tone, cam 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 pub tn
plate on the bed (there was no table
in the room) and washed his hands and
face in the tin basin, but somehow tn