The Kinsley graphic. [volume] (Kinsley, Kan.) 1890-1940, 1901-11-22

previous afternoon at the quarters
of Col. Brent, that he had actually
put it in his trousers pocket not two
minutes before he left the house to
go in search of Lieut.. Ray, but he
solemnly declared that as he left the
veranda he placed the pistol on
little table just to the right of the
broad entrance to the salon, within
that apartment. and never saw it
again until it was produced here.
Frank, candid, "open and above
board" as was the manner of the
witness, it did not fail to Danish in
great measure the feeling of an
tagonism that had first existed
against him in the crowded throng.
But in the cold logic of the law and
the chain of circumstantial evidence
they plainly saw that every state
ment, even that of Stuyvesant him
self, bore heavily against him. A
lawyer. had he been represented by
counsel, would have permitted no
such admissions as he had made. A
gentleman, unschooled in the law,
preferred the frank admission to the
distress of seeing Mrs. Brent-and
perhaps others-called into that
presence to testify to his having had
the pistol with him when he left the
gallery.
Brent in his bewilderment had
blurted out his wife's words in the
hearing of the provost-marshal's
people late the night before, and he
and his household were yet to be
called, and when called would have
to say that though they passed and
possibly repassed through the salon
between the moment of Stuyvesant's
departure and that of their going out
to dinner, not one of their number
noticed even so bright and cleaning
an object as Maidie's revolver. True,
the lights were not brilliant in the
salon. True, the little table stood
back against the wall five or six feet
from the doorway. Still, that pistol
was prominent object, and man
must have been in extraordinary
haste indeed to leave a loaded weap-
on "lying round loose" in the hall.
That was the way Thinking Bay
onets" argued it, and soldiers by the
score crowding the sidewalk and en-
trance and unable to force their way
in, or even to make room for a most
importune female struggling on the
orderly who. dispatched in further
search of Lieut.. hay, was forcing a
way out.
How is it going?" said he. "Why,
that young feller's just as good as
hanging himself. He admits having
had the pistol that did the business"
Ten minutes later a Filipino serv-
ant went to answer an imperative
rap at the panel in the massive door
| of No. 1919 Gale San Luis. DR.. Frank
had been early to see his patient, and
had enjoined upon Mrs. Brent and
/ Miss Porter silence as to last nights
tragedy. Not until she was stronger
was Miss Ray to be allowed to know
of the murder of Private Benton.
"By that time" said he, eve shall be
hope"
The colonel had gone round to the
police station. Mrs. Brent, nervous
and unhappy, had just slipped out
for ten seconds, as she said to Miss
Porter, to see an old army chum and
friend who lived only three doors
away. Miss Porter, who had been
awake hours of the night, had finally
succeeded, as she believed, in reading
Maidie to sleep, and then, stretching
herself upon the bamboo couch
across the room, was, the next thing
she knew, aroused by voices.
Sandy Ray had entered so noise
lessly that she had not heard, but
Maidie had evidently been expecting
him. In low, earnest tone he was
telling the result of his search the
night before. She heard the words:
"Connelly is down with some kind
of fever in hospital and hasn't seen
or heard anything of anyone even
family resembling Foster. Then L
found your old friend, the brakeman.
Gen. Vinton has got him good place
in the quartermaster's department.
and he tells me he knows nothing.
has seen and heard nothing. Now
| I'm going to division headquarters to
find Stuyvesant."
"And them" said Miss Porter, "my
heart popped up into my throat and
I sprang from the sofa!" But too
late. An awful, rasping voice at the
doorway stilled the soft Kentucky
tones and filled the room with dread.
"Then you've no time to lose,
young man. It's high time somebody
besides me set out to help him. That
other young man you call Foster lies
dead at the police station-ki1led by
your pistol, Miss Ray, and Mr.. Stuy.