Courier Democrat. (Langdon, N.D.) 1891-1920, 1901-11-28
CHAPTER II. (Continucd.)

to get away, and yet seemed, in some
strange fashion, dazed and perplexed.
Moreover, there was a reason, in his
own mind, at least, why he did not
swami to be subjected to further Ques-
tioning; watching his opportunity,
while the constable was talking with
| one of the porters, he strolled towards
the door, passed through quickly, and
| ran down the steps into the street.
There, hailing cab, he was driven
back again towards ST. Johns Wood.
! 1t was now nearly 2 o'clock in the
n2crning-and neither wind nor rain
had abated in the least. He got back to
| the house and stood looking up at the
windows, undecided what to do. All
| the lights had been eXtinguished in the
house, and there was no sign of life
anywhere about it. He stood still in
the street wondering what was best to
be done. There was no sign of his mes
senger-that messenger who had been
! swallowed up by the dark house. and
| who had sent, as it were, two men fly
| Ing frantically from it but few mo-
ments afterwards. What did it all
| mean? Had the messenger come away
again, and not finding the other man in
| the street, had he gone elsewhere?
| After walking about aimlessly quite
| long time he went back to the hospital
and rang the bell there. AS he stood
| parleying with the porter the surgeon
he had seen before crossed the hall of
fireplace, stopped, and came forward.
| He was a young man, keen-eyed, and
| quick of speech.
| "Halloa-you've turned up again,
| have you?" he said. "Our friend, the
policeman, was looking for :you-he
thought he might want you as wit
ness. I'm afraid the man who tried
conclusions with the machine is in a
bad Xay'>
I'm sorry to hear that" replied the
| other. II was obliged to hurry away on
a matter-matter of business. I came
| back in the hope of learning how he
| was" He had come back in the hope
of learning something else, too-but he
did not say so.
You can come and look at him, if
you like said, the surgeon, carelessly.
Then, as they went along, he Asked
do you know the man at all?"
mot personality,
ooh! I merely asked becausei strang-
ers don't usually trouble themselves
about a man picked up in the streets
that's all.''
"I-I know the name-or I thought I
did," said the other, slowly IT had
heard the name before, and had some
slight interest in it. Has he recovered
| consciousness at all?"
! The surgeon shook his head. mot
really. Once or twice he has spoken,
, but only to say that one name-'Gilbert
Rickerby.' Which reminds me, by the
way as you say you have an interest
in the name-I found this, clenched
tight in his fingers, a few moments ago
so tightly that I tore it in getting it
away from him. It's a mans visiting
card, with just that one name upon it,"
The visitor took the crumpled pieces
of pasteboard in his fingers and looked
at them. Scarcely two hours before the
man who had left to enter that dark
house in st. Johns Wood had carried
that card in his hand. He felt that the
eyes of the young surgeon We're upon
him; he passed back the torn pieces
with what carelessness he could mus
ter.
Ellis own, I suppose" he said. 'tDo
you know anything of him? Have you
found anything on him."
'Nothing-and he's likely to die with
out saying anything-except that name.
And he shrieks that out every now ana
then, in a fashion to shake the nerves.
Here he is"
| They had come into one of the long,
clean, dimly-lit wards-a place of 81
I lence, save now and then, some sleeper
| twisted uneasily and moaned a little
| or when a nurse rustlel down between
| the beds and spoke in low voice to a
/ patient. Here and there a listless pair
of eyes was turned upon the man who
walked softly beside the surgeon; in
one corner a screen had been drawn
around bed, to show that Death had
come softly in the nighttime and
healed someone for good and all. The
surgeon leaned down beside the bed of
the man who had been so recently
brought in, and gently but firmly held
down the restless arms and looked into
the staring, unconscious face.
"Steady-steady! You'll wear your
self out, my friend, at this rate, in an
hour or two. Something here more
than broken limbs and concussion," he
added, glancing up at the other man.
"If death comes here, it'll come not
quietly, but with fears and tortures.'
"Is there-something troubling him
some mystery, perhaps?" asked the 9TH
I er. He spoke in low voice, and kept
his troubled eyes upon the face of the
man on the bed.
l Heaven only knows!' responded the
/ surgeon, struggling his shoulders. 1--WE
have no time to think of trouble or
J mysteries here; our business is to look
after mems bones'
II should liKe-to-stay with him
! little while-if may" pleaded the 9TH
er, hesitatingly. "As have said have
some-some interest in the name-and I
/ may learn something about him.
There's no harm in that" said the
| doctor, readily enough. at isn't much
more than any one will see of him. I'm
afraid I'll tell the nurse you have my
permission"
Left there with the injured man, the
visitor sat down beside the bed quite
silently, and looked down at him;
thought of the torn card that had been
found in the mans clenched hand, and
felt his brain reel. Then, in the silence