The Winslow mail., 1901-03-28
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: THE STURGIS WAGER s
, A DETECTIVE STORY. =
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9 BY EDGAR MORETTE &
E Copyright, 1899, by Frederick A. Stokes Co. N
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CHAPTER XXI.-CoNTINUED.


and whistled long and loud, after
which he placed lis ear to the mouth
piece.
81 hear some ole walking" he sud
denly exclaimed.
The two men listened in breathless
silence for an answering call.
"Well, gentlemen, what can 1 do for
you?"
The words came in Murdock's voice.
Spragues eyes met those of the re-
porter and saw that the last faint-glim-
mer of hope was gone. In that swift
and silent interchange of thought
there was resignation to the inevitable
doom and the final farewell of two
brave hearts.
The spluttering candle gave it's last
flicker and went out, leaving the pris-
oners in utter darkness.
The room was rapidly filling with
gas and they were beginning to feel it's
effects.
'We can at least complete our task
before we die" said Sturgis, with grim
determination.
"Our task!'
eyes, and insure Murdock's convfc-
tion for our murder
what chance is there that anyone
will ever discover our bodies, since they
are destined for Murdocks oblivion
tank?"
"Give me your hand" Sturgis re-
piled; "there is box of matches. I
place it here, between US. within easy
reach. l want to write few words
to the superintendent of police to ex-
plain matters. By that time there
will be enough gas in the room to
produce terrific explosion, when we
strike a match. We can thus succeed
in wrecking this place and calling at
tention to it. If 1 should succumb
before you do, do not fail to light
the match"
While he was speaking the reporter
had taken from his pocket pad and
pencil and had begun to write as
rapidly as he could in the darkness.
Sprague's head was beginning to
swim and his ears were ringing, but
the thought of Agnes Murdoch was
uppermost in his mind.
"An explosion!" he exclaimed; "no,
no; that must not be. What of
Agnes? She may be hurt?"
Sturgis continued writing.
cit is the only chance there is of
bringing Murdock to justice" he said,
firmly.
"But Agnes is innocent of his
Crimes" urged the artist, in thick
voice. His tongue Glove to his palate;
he felt his consciousness ebbing.
"Why should she suffer? I am 60
ing, old mani cannot hold out any
longer-Promise me that you-that
you will not-strike-the match"
He staggered and fell against the
reporter, who caught him in his
arms. His own senses were reeling.
Promise" pleaded the half-uncon-
scious man.
81 PROMISE" answered Sturgis, after
an instant's hesitation.
1t struck chill to his heart to see
his friend dying in the prime of youth,
strength and happiness.
Suddenly a thought flashed upon
him.
"Brace up, old fellow. All is not
yet over. The speaking-tube leads to
fresh air. Here, put your lips to it
and breathe through your mouth"
The artist heard the words and
made an effort to obey these direc-
tions. With Sturgis' assistance he
managed to place his lips to the
mouth-piece of the spealing-tube. A
few whiffs of omparatively fresh air
sent the sluggish blood coursing
through his veins and gave him a new
hold on life. With renewed vigor
came the animal instinct to fight to
the last for existence.
AS the shadows of death which had
been closing in upon him receded, he
became conscious of Sturgis' voice
beating upon his ears in broken and
scarcely audible tones.
'It is-the last chance-Stick-t0
the tuhe-When he comes-surprisn
him-your revolver-shoot-b
The reporter was clinging unsteadi-
Iy W Ills IL OPI
suddenly realized that Sturgis in his
turn was succumbing to the effects of
the gas. He sprang back in time to
catch the staggering man in his
arms.
Selfish brute that 1 ami" he ex-
claimed. ''Here; it is your turn to
breathe!" And he pushed the report
er toward the tube.
"No, no." said Sturgis, struggling
family; "it cannot be both-and you
-have-everything-to live for"
But the artist was now the stronger,
and he succeeded in forcing his friend
TO inhale enough fresh air to restore
his departing consciousness.
At length Sturgis, with returning
strength, was about to renew the gen
erous struggle with Sprague, when
suddenly the place was ablaze with the
glow of an electric light.
''He wants to see if his work is done,'
whispered Sturgis, to his companion.
Then, observing that Sturgis was
again on the verge of asphyxiation, he
continued hurriedly:
'Fill up your lungs with air, quick
quick, L tell you. Now drop and
feign death. Do as l do"
Suiting the action to the word. Stur-
gis threw himself upon the stone floor,
face downward, and lay motionless,
his right land grasping a revolver con-
cealed beneath his body. Sprague.
after short breathing spell at the
tube, followed his companions exam