Custer weekly chronicle. [volume] (Custer City, S.D.) 1890-1931, 1900-09-29

wall, behind which Mrs. Peyton stood
IN the morning when he thought he
was leaving the ranch forever-where
he had first clasped her in his arms,
and stayed; a turn of the head, a mo-
ment's indecision, a single glance of
a languorous eye, had brought this
elimination.
And now he stood again before that
ruined grille, his house and lands,
even his name, misused by a mad,
scheming adventures, and himself q
creeping spy of his own dishonof.
He turned with a bitter smile again
to the garden. A few dark Castilion
roses still leaned forward and swayed
in the wind with dripping leaves. 1t
was here that the first morning of his
arrival he had kissed Susy; the per-
fume and color of her pink skin came
back to him with a sudden shock as
he stood there; he caught at the flow
err, drew it toward him and inhaled
it's odor in a long breath that left
him faint and leaning against the
wall.
Then again he smiled, but this time
more wickedly-in what he believed
his cynicism had sprung up the first
instinct of revengei
1t was now dark enough for him to
venture across the carriage road and
make his way to the rear of the house.
His first characteristic instinct had
been to enter openly at his WI front
gate-but the terrible temptation to
oyerhear and watch the conspiracy
unobserved-that fascination common
TO deceived humanity to witness it's
W shame-had grown upon him.
He knew that a word or a gesture of
explanation, apology, appeal, or even
terror from HIS wife would check his
rage and weaken his purpose.
His perfect knowledge of the house
and the security Of it's inmates would
enable him from some obscure land
ing or gallery to participate i'm any Sc
cret c%onclave they might hold in the
patio-the only place suitable for so
numerous a rendezvous. The absence
of light i'm the few external windows
pointed to this central gathering. And
he had already conceived his plan OF
entrance.
Gaining the rear wall of the casa he
began cautiously to skirt its brambly
base, until he had reached a long,
oven-like window, half obliterated by
q monStrous passion vine.
1t was the window of what had once
been Mrs. Peyton's boudoir; the win
dow by which he had once forced an
entrance to the house when it was in
the hands of the squatters; the win
dow from which Susy had signaled
her Spanish lover; the window whose
grating had broken the neck Of Judge
Peyton's presumed assassin.
But these recollection no longer de-
layed him; the moment for action had
arrived. He knew that since the trag-
edy the boudoir had been dismantled
and summed: the servants believed it
to be haunted by the assassin's ghost.
With the aid of the passion vine
the ingress was easy. The interior
window was open; the rustic of dark
leaves on the bare floor as he entered
and the whirr of a frightened bird by
his ear told the story of its desolation
and the source Of the strange noises
that had been heard there.
The door leading to the corridor
was lightly bolted, merely to keep it
from rafting in the wind. Slipping
the bolt with the blade of his pocket
knife, he peered into the dark pass
age. The light streaming under the
door to the left and the sound of
voices convinced him hat his. ~coniec-
ture was right, and the meeting was
gathered on the broad balconies
around the patio.
He knew that a narrow gallery,
faced with Venetian blinds to exclude
the sun, looked down upon them. He
managed to gain it without discov-
cry; luckily the blinds were still
down. Between their Stats, himself
invisible, he could hear and see every
thing hat occurred.
Yet even at that supreme moment
the first thing that struck him was
the almost ludicrous contrast be-
tween the appearance of the meeting
and its tremendous object.
Whether lie was influenced by any
previous boyish conception of a
cloudy and gloomy conspiracy, he
did not know, but he was for an in
slant almost Disconnected by the APP
parent levity and festiyity of the con
clave. D~ecanters and glasses stood on
small tables before them; nearly al
were drinking and smoking.
They comprised Is or 20 men, some
whose faces were familiar to him else,
where as southern politicians; q few
he was shocked to see, were we'll
known northern democrats.
Occupying n enthusiastically cen.
trial position was the famous Colone
Starbottle, Of Virginia. Jaunty and
youthful looking in his mask-like
beardless face, expressive and digni
fed in his middle-aged port and car
riage, he alone retained something OF
the importance-albeit slightly theat
rical and affected-of the occasion.
Clarence, in his first hurried glance
had not observed his wife, and for G
moment had felt relieved.
But as Colonel Starbottle arose al
that moment, and with a studiouslN
chivalrous and courtly manner turned
to his right, he saw that she was sit
ting at the further end of the balcony
and that a man whom he recognized
as Captain P~inckney was standing be
side her. .
The blood quickly frightened around
his heart, but left him cold and oh
servant.
1t was seldom, indeed, remarked
Colonel ~Starbottle, placing his fla
white fingers in the frill Of his shir
front, that a movement like this wa,
graced with the actual presence of
lofty, inspiring yet delicate spirit;
Boadicea-indeed, he might say
Joan of Arc-ir the person of thei,
very charming hostess, Mrs. Brant.
Not only were they favored by he,
social and hospitable ministration
but by her active and enthusiastic co
operation in the glorious work the,
had in hand. 1t was through her cor
res%pondence and earnest advocac,
hat they were to be favored tonigh
with the aid and counsel of one o
tba most dictipnuiShad and pouvarfu