The Bossier banner. [volume] (Bellevue, Bossier Parish, La.) 1859-1952, 1901-09-19

ing estimate of the casket's value
one very largely in excess of the
truth. The casket contained some
score of diamonds.
Mr.. Lyndon, in the meantime, pur-
sued his way towards the center of
the city. Happening into saloon
which was frequented by college
boys, he saw, with half dozen COM
rades, the brother whom Flora
thought safe within his own room.
Mile lounging near the group he in
advertently heard that the PARTY
were about to adjourn to certain pri-
vate rooms where the great Ameri-
can game would occupy their atter-
ton for some hours.
This, of course, was but slightly in
teresting to Mr.. Lyndon, so he pro-
ceeded on his way, after discovering
that the train which Flora expected
at twelve was some hours late.
He slowly extracted purse from
his pocket and proceeded to examine
it's contents. This was effected with
speed and accuracy-the purse being
empty.
He stood and studied the time table
with earnest attention, seemingly en-
crossed to the exclusion of all other
duties and diversions.
Flora determined to remain
dressed until her father should ar
rive. She was girl of more than or
dinary courage, and, though at first
the loneliness oppressed her, she felt
reasonably secure. She settled into
an easy chair and began reading.
This was an excellent idea, she
thought, and well designed to pro-
tect her from any feeling of nervous
ness.
After reading for some time she,
merely out of curiosity, raised her
eyes to look at the clock. To her sur
prise it had stopped, yet-no, she dis
tinctly heard it ticking.
1t was ten minutes after II when
she began reading and now it was
three minutes later. She had read
for at least half an hour-of course
she had-and it must have been that
the clock had stopped and then re-
sumed its work. In the morning she
would have the clock repaired.
Four times she read for similar half
hours, and four times the clock
stopped. Therefore it must have been
after one, though the clock indicated
less than quarter of an hour for her
entire literary recreation.
She rose to her feet, wondering why
her father did not come. Feeling op-
pressed, she opened a window and
gaZed inquiringly into the unanswer-
ing night.
The cat purred contentedly on the
arm of her chair.
For some reason she did not con-
tinue her study of tactics-she had
been reading the manual of Arms
left through her brothers error.
She now determined to retire, feel
ing perfectly quiet after her first
nervousness. 1t was really absurd that
she should have felt agitated at all.
How different everything would ap-
pear in the morning-the sunshine's
tranquil gold dreaming upon the floor
1.-The melody of the birds whose notes
fell in liquid showers amid the showers
of dew She would listen, too, for the
woodpecker with its crimson head of
fire burning behind its driving bill,
like the glare of the explosion that
gives the proiectile its furious energy.
She woald know the exact time to
arise by noting through the transom
when golden lance of sunshine ripped
the palpitating shadow in the hall.
AS she lay meditating, with her hand
upon the soft fur of her pet, she felt
soothed and lulled by its soft purring.
Suddenly the sound ceased. The cat
rose with arched back and glaring
eyes.
Glancing up, she saw outlined
against the transom a human head.
Death was hers for the asking, and
less!
She looked upon the floor and in a
moment it was peopled with shadowy
faces, and she felt the carpet torn by
champing teeth.
The paralysis of her terror was also
her safety. She made no sound that
would direct the attention Of the head
| from the diamonds to herself.
Terror had wrapped her so close in
his weaving that she could not wound
| herself against the thorns of danger.
Slowly the girl realized her situa'
ton. The first signal was like stun
ming blow: then she came to the real
| lied anguish, the nerves working into
tormented surprise, the chaos of mis-
erv, excitement and fear.
She wondered what would be the
| outcome. Death, indeed, but under
| what circumstances?
Remote from human aid-choked
with strong hands about her throat
that grinning sepulcher of head
| against her face, while the congested
veins blackened. Oh, the horror OF
| such a death! And worse than al
physical pain, the nameless agony OF
fear.
Was there no help? Could that des
| perate intruder terminate the whole
design and mystery of her existence