The Denison review. [volume] (Denison, Iowa) 1867-current, 1900-06-15
tretched IL front of his lonely dwell.

stretched II front of his lonely dwell
ing.
He walked along rapidly, anxious
while his determination remained firm
to place as great a distance as possible
between himself and any chance of un-
doing his handiwork. There was not a
soul abroad, of course, at such an hour,
and Carbon had no fear of injuring
anybody but himself by the explosion
that now be was expecting every mo-
ment. When the road took him near
any habitatien. he made a wide circuit
to keep u outside the range of the dy-
Mantle bomb round his waist. With
the same thoughtfulness for others he
stopped when after about half an
hours walk he caught sight of the fig
ure of a woman approaching him. He
was like a man with the plague, whom
1t was dangerous to approach, and
Ralph was about to turn precipitately
and get out of the woman's way when
something in her figure struck him as
familiar. The night was a moonlight
one, and in the middle of the road
where she was walking it was as clear
GS ~ "A .SOLOA klduCC LOx VI
that his suspicion was right. 1t was
Deborah Dene hurrying along the road.
In thec complete surprise of seeing her
in such a spot at such an hour the
thought of his invention went clear out
of his head. 1t was due to go off at
any moment now, but Ralph was so as
tonished hat he actually forgot it's ex-
istence.
He hurried forward.
"Deb," he said, what are you doing
here?
For answer the girl flung her arms
round his neck and burst into tears.
She had hurried as fast as the train
could bring her to him Immediately Oh
receiving his letter with it's hint of sui.
eide and had walked from the nearest
station, three miles farther up the road,
expecting to reach his house only in
time to find him a corpse. She sobbed
for five minutes on his breast without
being able to speak a word in the relief
Of finding him alive.
The letter which he had received and
which she was supposed to have writ.
ten she had never heard of except
through his ~reproaches. 1t was a for.
gerry, no doubt, concocted by some
spiteful acquaintance of his or hers to
ruin their. happiness. She loved him
with her whole heart and soul, she
sobbed, and could never dream of Civ.
ing him up.
1t seemed to poor Ralph Carbon, who
loved her more than his life, that the
gates of paradise had opened. To find
that all the mental agony through
which he had passed had been without
cause or basis made him feel the hap.
piest la in the world.
1t was actually not until he clasped
his sweetheart in his arms with every
doubt and suspicion removed that the
consequent pressure of the bomb
against his flesh reminded him how in
a few minutes at most it would blow
him to atoms.
This story was told to me as true by
a friend of mine who knew the interest
take in the subject of suicide. He
! stopped when he had reached this point
in his narrative. as if it was concluded.
"And wercgthey both killed." I asked
with interest.
"Oh, no. They We're married shortly
afterward. Carbon gave up trying to
invent from that night and became
pretty successful when he found his
real forte-t"le writing"
But the bomb9" l asked. l was not
interested in the mans subsequent ca
reer. My friend pretended to look sur
prised.
My dear fellow. you don't think a
machine could possibly work when
Ralph Carbon had invented and made
it!'-Chicago News.