Reporter and farmer. [volume] (Webster, Day County, Dakota [S.D.]) 188?-1946, 1901-04-11
CHATTER \. Continued,

II have proved nothing, Beatrice.
nor have they given me my freedom"
he replied. II escaped to-day from
Jail. How, matters not. I am here.
but every moment is fraught with
danger. Beatrice. i would have stayed
and stood my trial, secure in my inno-
cence. but that / was in the hands of
~perjurers. You know your cousins
testimony. What chance had / in my
Innocence to stand up against Ii with
out proof? And how could / gain proof
shut up in a prisons walls? How
could l pay my debt to him when my
hands were tied? So / have united
them. Beatrice, / am a free man, and
they shall never take me back alive
Listen TO me, my dear, n don't trem-
Die nor be afraid. / am not going to
leave my place untitled in the cell i
nave left vacant; / am going to pro-
vide a substitute. 1t may be one year,
or two, or three before / am able to do
this; but IL shall be done. And that
substitute is Randolph Chester. AS
bitter and implacable as he has been
TO me. so Will | be to him: but my
weapons shall be truth--his have been
PERJURY and false witness. In open
combat, let us see which will win. i
only came here, darling, to see and to
tell you this-to swear to you, If you
needed the oath, that you were not
more innocent than /; to hold you
once in my arms, to press you to my
heart, to taste ones again the sweet
ness OF your lips, and then to disap-
pear. AS Bertram Talbot, from the
world; but ever, like the sleuth-
hound IN fnIlnxy n, ~ apdnlnh ChaC-
ter's track, to double on his doubling,
to ferret every purpose, every motive
of his life. until. mesh by mesh. / have
wov about him a web from which
there is no escape"
He had spoken SO holly, so impetu-
ously, she could not have checked him
liz she would; but as she realized that
he was again to leave her-that his
coming had only bee to bid her onc
more farewell-she chung to him with
weary desolation.
BERTHE. Bertie!" she pleaded. II, too.
distrust and fear him. Do not leave
me, dear"
MY child. / am powerless. Sweet
as is my dream of winning you, /
would not tonight claim you We're the
power given me; nor ever until / car
prove 10 the world and to you, sweet
heart, who need no proof. that / bear
the burden of another's guilt. But,
darling, you are protected from
him and all Others. This is your home.
1t rests with you whether l shall be
admitted to it's doors"
A bitter cry burst from her lips. Her
home! So he believed, little dreaming
that she had no home. From her he
m~ustShear the sad story. AS 1t had
been TOLD to her. Unfaiteringly, h re-
peated it to him.
Sometimes / him we wrong him,
Rertie," she concluded. See, dear! by
marrying me 20 he gains nothing. /
am penniless. The money is all his.
Why should he want to link his life
with a nameless girl? And yet, at the
sound of his voice, / shudder-at his
touch, / instinctively recoil. His very
beauty repulses ne. You know why 1
was about TO end 1t all when you
came-why death was sweeter to me
In its calm chill than life spent with
him. For my sake. when dead, he
would have spared my mothers mem
Dry. The lawyer said my death would
make all things easy. oh, BERTHE. Ii is
not yet too late! See, half the con-
tents OF the bottle still are here. Pour
them out, and let me drink them with
your arms close-wrapped about me.
For the first time during her story
she uplifted her eyes to his face. She
was terrified at the change which had
taken place there.
Pale before, he was now livid, and
his breathing was labored and painful.
His eyes, too. wore an expression she
had never seen there before.
AS she finished speaking. he reached
out his hand for the bottle, still stand
ing uncorked upon the table.
She thought he was about to obey
her command, and smiled wearily, as
though glad to throw off LIES heavy
burden; but instead, his fingers closed
about the fragile glass until 1t snap
ned within them, and its dark contents
spilled themselves at his feet, with
here and there a drop of blood, where
the sharp edges had cut into the flesh.
He seemed Unconscious of 1t all, and
still held the broken fragments fast
until a faint cry from Beatrice arous-
ed him.
.Bertie. you are hurt! The glass is
cutting you, Let go of it,
He Embossed his hold then, and shook
Il from him.
With her handkerchief she wiped the
blood away, and bound the linen about
st. AS she finished, he caught her
once more TO him in a grasp that fair
~ hurt, while one great sob rent his
frame.
Thank God! thank God! l came
In time," he said. My child-my
little girl! Swear, to me that what
ever befall, you will never again at
tempt your life. And listen, Beatrice!
az / have needed nerve and courage
for my coming struggle you have
supplied me with both. All-an that
this villain has told o is false, n
told to serve some purpose of his own.
MY darling think of your father. his
honor, his rectitude. and imagine him
always. always under the shadow OF
this lie. Look at III mothers pic
ture. Recall that he venerated her
of a saint. Was ever race
more pure than hers? And think you,
AZ this story had been true, your father
would not have provided so carefully
for your future as to put 1t beyond the
reach of chance? All. darling, i have
49, --.m~e -~u 20 apnn0a hut