Waterbury Democrat., 1902-12-11

ACA sCicsS fingers OI HIS r1gnJ nanu
 clasped pistol; in the center of his
 forehead was ghastly wound.
 With strange weakness in his
 knees the burglar bent over the dead
 man, brushed back his matted hair l took the pistol gently from his fin
 gers and folded his hands across his
 breast. In the corpse the cracksman
 recognized Frazer, the bank cashier.
 On the desk near him was the fol-
 lowing letter, unseaied:
 Being no longer able to conceal | my shortage, to hide the fact that
 the safe does not contain the amount
 of money it should. and being cow ard, I have chosen a towards method J of paying my debt. do not ask for l pity. I only ask compassion for my wife"
 1 For moment the burglar stood un- decided, the letter in his hand. Sud- denly, breaking the impressive si-
 fence, came the loud ringing of tel l ephone bell.
 Instantly, involuntarily, the bur- I glar closed the lantern-slide, gripped l his pistol, crouched behind the desk.
 Again the bell rang, and mechan- ! ically he arose and walked to the tel ephone. Standing with one foot on l each side of the dead cashier, he 1 took down the receiver. Hellol" he said, striving to initiate
 the voice of one whose eyes he could 1 feel, but could not see. l He was answered by a woman "Oh, Henry!" she said, q have just awakened from such vivid-such an awful dream! I know it is silly; bur 1t frightened me. I dreamed that you were in trouble-in disgrace. And 1 then l awoke and found you had not returned home. Oh, Henryl what is keeping you so late? Come home at once, will you not, dear?" 1 'sYes,' the burglar answered, as one in daze.
 'Do," she continued, and there was I anxiety in her voice. q am so glad. so glad it was only a dream. would rather see you dead than dishonored, Henry dear"
 l The burglar crept back to his desk and seated himself in the dead mans chair, the woman's voice still ringing i'll his ears.
 That voicel It haunted him like
 memory of the long ago, like an
 echo of the days of childhood. It l thrilled, it stirred hiW It aroused that old mad love of his boyhood.
 Whose voice was it? Undoubtedly the wife of the dead coward lying at
 his feet. But who had she been be- fore-before she married him?
 That voice! Could it be Martha
 Grants? Years and years ago, when I they were schoolmates, he had loved
 Martha, worshiping her from afar,
 for she lived in fine house in the
 best part of the town, and he was d child of the slums. A vast social gulf divided them, but he loved her in secret, knowing that he scarcely | entered her thoughts. Once he had thrashed boy for I teasing her, and she had smiled at him. He had never forgotten that
 smile That was years and years l ago, but, though she had long since l passed out of his life, he had never l loved another. And now-was that l voice indeed the voice of Martha | Grant?
 Again the burglar. deliberately | opened the slide of his lantern and turned the gleam upon the desk. At l the back part of the desk he saw picture in silver frame. It was I photograph of a woman-not par ticularly handsome woman-but glor- flied by dazzling smile-and he rec. l ognized. that smile!
 From that face he turned reluct- antly at last to gaze with scorn at the cold features of the man lying there with the scarlet mark of sin upon his brow He felt no pity now nothing but contempt; but Mar tha's worlds "I would rather see you dead n-dishonored," rang in his ears.
 With smile he placed the letter. ] the contemptible letter-in his poclx- ct, picked up Frazer's pistol, re- placed the empty chamber with loaded cartridge, and laid the weapon in drawer. Then he tore the collar of the cashiers coat, ripped one sleeve half it's length, and overturned the chairs and scattered them about.
 It was nearly daybreak. Tn few moments the gray would be creeping l up the eastern sky.
 Quickly the burglar blew open the safe and scattered the gold and sil- yer and bank notes upon the floor.
 Now" he said to himself, 'sthey will find the evidence of burglary, the cashier murdered!"
 Leaving his soap and dark lantern by the shattered safe, lie fled, and two things only did he take-the cashiers letter. and the photograph | in the silver frame
 Through the rain and darkness he drove away, without taking any of the spells of his burglary, but not unhappy. A woman's smiling face seemed to thank him. He laughed aloud as he fled through the gray of morning, thinking of a schoolgirl smiling at a ragged urchin.-N. Y Weekly.
 Raccoon Catches Crabs.