The National tribune. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1877-1917, 1901-10-24
PART L.

no JtSIre 10 venture from ilN l'HSi . -
during such night, and sitting tc:o c
the fire | lit my pipe and fell to contrm-
plating the half-iinShCd picture OIL my
easel 1t was Il bit of fancy work. rCalis-
tic some would have pronounced Ii.
showing u scene of poverty III the Sums
of London; but for all that it was a more
creation of my fancy. though | was Wise
enough to keep that to myself. We poor
artists learn all this in time. The picture
was in the line of one | had been so for
tunatc to sell 10 Il rich draper some
months before and which had attracted
the attention of Sir Arthur Pcnrose. who
had placed an order with me. l held my
breath when asking a hundred pounds for
the picture, and was transported with
ecstasy when my offer was accepted.
Sir Arthur was 4 man of 6O-some-
thing of an artist. 4 scientist, and great
traveller. spending most of his time alb. Dad.
He WIS eccentric to Il degree. and lived
the life of a recluSe, never minglIng in
society and making but few friends. He
had Travelled extensively in America. and
had spent several years i'll the Western
States. having acquired a strange liking
for the society of Americans. This, l in
ferred, had something to do with the favor
/ had gained with him.
His estate. the Expresses" lay deeply
powered in n Sussex woodland. and it was
his custom. when in England. to bury
himself there with his books. All this
l had picked up from Ruggy Darke,
young man of rather seedy appearance,
who had lodgings at Bickworth's Rents.
He had a fashion OF coming in to chat
with me at odd times, and there was
something about him that made me in
cIincd to like his society.
What his business was ] had never
learned. but if he had been at the head
of the London Police Department he could
not have been more familiar with the
crimes and criminals of the great city.
To talk of the doinGS of the criminal
classes was hobby of his. and he was
full of socialistic doctrines for the better
ment of the condition of the poor and
theories for the suppression of crime. His
education was not of the finished sort,
but he had keen insight into human ma
ture.
At the time-of the opening of my story
he had been absent for several days. a
visit from him, however, would have been
most welcome at that particular time. For
several days the papers had been tenn
ing with accounts of the mysterious muir
der of Sir Arthur Penrose, who had met
his death at the hand of some unknown
assassin at the Expresses.
Close on the heels of tbs had followed
another shocking crime-the not less myS-
FERROUS murder OF Vincent Enrol, nephew
and sole heir of Sir Arthur Penrose. That
both murders had been committed Icy the
same hand there seemed little room for
doubt. but what could have been the mo-
tive of the crime? That was the cues
ton TO which even the shrewdest detec-
tive from Scotland Yard could offer no
solution.
| was greatly shocked over the tragedy,
and felt that | had lost the only friend
| had i'll England. for to me Sir Arthur
had been n friend indeed. having given
me his patronage at Il time when actual
want stared me in the face. This recog-
milton of my talent. coming as 1t dld from
one of Sir Arthur's position and we'll
known patron OF art, seemed opening Tor
me a successful career as an artist, but
now all my hopes and dreams in this
connection had been dashed to the ground.
1t was more than likely that the pic
ture on which / was now engaged would
be left on my hands. now that Sir Ar
thur was dead. for it was not likely that
his heirs, if he had any, would care to
purchase the picture. and | had nothing
to show that it had been ordered. This
placed me in a decidedly bad plight. l
might be turned ont of doors, for already
my landlord was becoming impatient I'M
der tInfHlflled promises.
In the midst of these gloomy reflections
there came soft, nervous rap at my
door. | threw it open and a slight, girl
ish figure entered. Her face was pallid
and stained with tears. She held an even
ing paper-the last edition-in her hand.
and there was that in her face that told
that she was suffering great mental agony.
Miss Hardingr | cried, in surprise.
"What has happened? You look ILL.,"
! pulled an easy chair to her side. and
she sank into it without a word Ruth
Harding lived with her mother in the
rooms just above my own, where they
1. .a,l
doing bits of fancy work in the painting
of cards for the shops-for Miss Harding
was an artist. Perhaps it was this COM
mon ambition. coupled with a common
misfortune, that had made us comrades
from our first meeting. | stooC waiting
in silence for her to speak.
"Read this" she said, at length, placing
the paper in my hand. and indicating an
article with gla!ing headlines, land for
Heavens sake, tell me what | am to do!
Oh, Mr.. Raymond, this is more than l
can bear"
She covered her face with her hands
and sobbed convUlSivcly. | felt strangely
moved by her distress. What TO say or
do, / knew not. l turned my gaze upon
the paper. and with increasing amaze
ment read the following headlines, print
ed in glaring capitals:
~ WOMAN IN THE CASE!
STRANGE AND STARTLING DEEEL-
OPNIENTS IN THE PENROSE MUIR
DER MYSTERY. THE ARREST OF
MARY HARDING, AN AMERICAN
WOMAN, WHO TELLS \ HIGHLY
SENSATIONAL But DOUBTFUL
STORY. CLAIMS TO BE THE DIS
CARDED WIFE OF SIR ARTHUR
PENROSE. HER IMPROBABLE
STORY LEADS TO HER ARREST.
PROOFS THAT SHE COMMITTED
THE DREADFUL CRIME OF DOU-
BILE MURDER FAST COMING TO
LIGHT. BRILLIANT WORK OF THE
MEN FROM SCOTLAND YARD"
l had read thus far when | stopped
and glanced at my visitor, n sense of in
eXplicable compassion for the despairing
girl rushing over me. | bent over her
and laid my hand on her arm, the dread
ful truth coming TO me with sudden force
II was her mother who had been arrested
and charged with the double murder Of
Sir Arthur and his nephew | was
amazed. stupcfcd.
She glanced at nc. saw the question
ing look on my face, and said:
"Nes-it is truc-it is my mother who
Is arrested for that awful crimer' She
spoke in husky whisper, making a swift
gesture and turning her white, agonized
face TO me as il in mute supplication. Her
form shook as with aguc; then without
another word she reeled over and lay limp
in the chair.
rang the bell hurriedly, and the land
lady came in, breathless and agitated.
Bring the poor child into my room, u
she said, and hurried to fetch some re,
storatiyes. | took the unconscious form
in my arms and bore her through the hall
TO the lady's own apartments, where
a he L.,