Reporter and farmer. [volume] (Webster, Day County, Dakota [S.D.]) 188?-1946, 1901-08-22

had prevented him!
And then. having reverted to it, her
thoughts would become fixed IN mat
direction, and she began to wonder and
speculate as &c the preparation Oh the
murder, and to ask herself yet over anu
over again, the perplexing question:
After all, could it W been Robert!
And If so, wha had become OF him, II
what would be dom to him.
He was a madman, and, therefore
they could not hang him. No; the worst
they could do would be to put him IN a
lunatic asylum for the rest or MS days
and bad enough, surely. Poor old Rop-
ert!
But it seemed impossible. He would
have taken no pains to conceal his
crime. Rather, on the contrary, ne
would probably have remained, with
the dripping weapon in his hand, stand
ing over the PROSTATE form, ready L"
proclaim to all the world the propriety
and justice Of the dreadful act.
Besides. where could Robert have
possessed himself of that stiletto?-and
beyond question. with that weapon thE
deed had beer done. Who, then, so like
" to have done It as Shirley Austin
| SuTDIlSbu anu ltldu1CllSN az ''N''S
long-promised bride leaning, a welded
wife. on a rivals arm?
He, indeed. might have had the
weapon. for had he not held Clarice III
his arms? And from that frantic m
brace Philip had torn her forcibly'
leavinC-what could be more probable?
the stiletto either ia Austin'S hand, II
he had plucked 1t from her veil, OF
dropping 1t at his feet if it had. in the
struggle, fallen out of the lace folds
Yes. yes" Kate Martin exclaimed,
exultantly. lit seems almost a foregone
conclusion. Let me remember. now.
What was It ! heard that old simpetoh,
Mrs. Mowbray, say about the stiletto!
/ COULD not have imagined 1t. though
her husband so quickly hushed her up.
All. now I know, The weapon was a
gift from Shirley Austin. Yes. l re-
member her very words now. Probably
in his rage he tore 1t from her veil in
the very moment that she lay fainting
in his arms-perhapS with the lnten-
ton. ever then. of stabbing his success
full rival, and, failing in that, he cam.
to the house and lay in wait for Philip.
"Of course he had an cromplice-the
Frenchwoman! She must ave kr>-Tn
from Clarice of the unhappy love affair.
and. at her mistress orders, shielded
the murderer, red-handed, from his
victim, and enabled him to escape whil>
that sharp-eyed detective and his po-
Iicemen were safely disposed OF up
stairs, trying to make discoveries--ha.
ha! It's always the way. But the de-
tective is a keen fellow, and I must see
him again
At this point Mrs. Martins reveries
were brought TO an abrupt conclusion
by the stopping Of the carriage; and,as
the cOachman assisted her TO alight,
she found hat she was at her own
door.
1t was hurriedly opened before she
! could knock or ring the bell, and Bertha
and Lettie both received her with loud
demonstrations of grief and terror and
EXPLANATIONS at her long absence.
"Oh, mamma. how dreadful. Poor
Uncle Philip-Poor. dear Uncle Philip!
| Who could have been so wicked and so
cruel? We have been so frightened ana
so much alarmed when you didn't come
home!"
Mrs. Martin kissed both her laugh.
tiers. and soothed and quoted them.
She was fond of all her children, but
Bertha and Lefty were her favorites.
They were both approaching woman,
hooG-Bertha nearly eighteen and Lefty
Just sixteen-and in their youth and
beauty she saw her own happy Sirlhood
again, and the possibilities OF all the
successes which she had missed or mar
red in her own life.
Don't be noisy, my dear girls! You
have kept this shocking affair from the
Children, I hope? That's we'll. 1 would
not have had you know of it myself UNI
til l had time to break the news. at any
rate. How came you to hear of it?"
Why, mamma, dear, Of course, we
followed in our carriage, with the rest
Of the guests hat had been invited to
the breakfast. When we arrived there
| seemed almost a riot in the street, there
was such a crowd, such an excitement.
Policemen were standing about, and
someone said that other policemen were
already in the house. We were so
frightened! But hat was nothing to
what followed. When we reached the
door. at length, we learned that a muir,
der had been committed. Oh, mamma,
dear, perhaps it was not so bad! In tina
excitement it may IA been exagger-
ated! say IL Is not true!
Too true, unfortunately! My poo
brother is dead-foully murdered
Mrs. Martin spoke with solemn en-
phasis, and the two girls broke into
passionate weeping.
Philip Grayson had been the kindest
Of uncles to Kate Martins children, ana
he was much loved by all of them.
Fol- some minutes the two young girls
wept without restraint, but their moth-
er insisted hat they should control
their grief, and not too suddenly alarm
the younger children.
1T is terrible enough" she added;
but, unhappily, your uncle brought 1t
on himself. / almost knelt to him in
my e%ntreaties to prevent his marriage
with Clarice Mowbray: but nothing
availed. / warned him that the report
of young Austin's death had never been
confirmed by any sufficient proof. l
went so far as to prophesy that the
young mar would kill Clarice Now
bray's husband, If he should chance to
be alive and eve return. But Philip
was obstinate. / might as we'll have
talked to the deaf. Your uncle was in
fatuated with that girl; and, as II
seems, the other lover was equally mad
about her"