The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1902-11-23


n's - GRAY and more fieecy, and giving
i00~ oh of crimson to the gray building
' x,,eh a man had just emerged. The
-. -, gates had changed behind him. and
~ - first time in five years he was a
w ian free TO go where he would,
iies a. face a world that had no greeting
for him
hin, in a dazed. bewildered sort of
an as II he hardly realized he could go
80 he would. He was only young
,,st-not thirty-and, despite the bag
' sullan face, the close-cropped hair
81 defiant mien, he was not un-
s.ndsone. for there was an aspect of gen.
cleanliness about him.
80 we're a few persons about watching
-, arson doors curiously. and warder
- AT the entrance with air OF
&c. Indifference. The man had not ex-
- anvone TO meet him, for his term
- wanted two years of its close. No
:. his former acquaintance knew he
60 be set at liberty that day. He had
80 out of their world. Yet his heart
-, sore that Of all he had once known
-. enc was present to welcome him, and
80 WAS not one familiar face. 1t was,
:. eerceIy told himself. but on a piece
--,,h the rest. They had forgotten him.
Ne was a pariah. and he cursed the world.
rrhink of IL! For five years George Car
18th had the torture OF suffering and
,nourfnR he was innocent; of bearing in his
hsart the shame and degradation or guilt,
h,,, e,,iltIess; of knowing that friends were
.,,orated that he was branded as a GRIM
,ral that ne was no fit companion for
timetable men and women to rub shout
80 ,rith. and of knowing IL was all I'M
deserved
And now he was freeI What sort of free
sor, was it7 What had life to offer? He
..s without friends, without hope. All
nat was left was the longing to pay
hoet 10 the world the injustice he had
received
The knowledge that the strangers were
hooking at him annoyed him. and he turned
,mpatiently away. A gentleman, kindly
A,snosed. came forward and spoke to him,
and received an angry reply. George Car
forth wanted no sympathy or pity. What
IA asked for was justice, and, falling
that-revenge.
He plunged into the city, anxious to
lose himself and to carry out his plans For
I'VE years he had lived for that moment,
hrooded over 1t, nurtured his hatred for
Il. MANNED against the day of it's COM
ing There was in his breast more than
the pang of undeserved suffering and re-
preach. There was the browning torture
OF believing that his own friend had done
this thing
He knew very little of the world during
his five years of incarceration. Happily his
parents were dead. They had not lived
10 see his shame. He had few relatives,
and they cared very little about him.
He was a disgrace to their honorable
lives. Only one. an uncle, his father s
brother, had made an effort during the
years Of Imprisonment TO see him, and,
as the man had spent the brief inter-
view in admonitions to honesty, George
Carforth refused to see him or anyone else
again.
He could not do that now for he was in
the world. but his course was mapped out.
He was not without money, and he knew
that there must be more somewhere, for
during the five years the income from his
patrimony had been accommodating. His
first object was to be avenged on his former
bosom friend; his second was to leave the
country forever.
Five years before he had been bright
young fellow Of three-and-twenty, with
good prospects. Then had come a charge
Of forgery, one that he could find no means
of disproving. Gradually chain was
wound rnund him initial evidence
pointed TO him as the guilty person, and the
chief witness against him was his bosom
friend, Charles Debenham. A jury of his
fellow-countrymen were completely salts
ned Of his guilt; the judge had expressed
approval Of their verdict, and he was SEN
fenced to seven years hard labor.
AT the time Of the trial he had been toe
oazed to think clearly, but five years had
provided ample time in which TO unravel
mentally the tangled skein, and it had all
come clear. He understood it all now. He
had reviewed the evidence, run over every
little incident, and he knew now that
Charles Debenham was the forger, and
mat he had been sacrificed for the sake of
and by. his friend.
All the day he fingered about the city. II
was not that he was hesitating as to his
course. But he had preparations to make
snd inquiries to set on foot, and he wished
70 avoid all chance of recognition.
men, as the evening shadows fell, he
TOOK ticket for his native town. There he
was compelled to meet those he had known
ne shrank at first from the ordeal but as
suming eallousness he did not feel, and
tudeness foreign TO his nature, he faced
0'o acquaintance and produced on their
minus worse impression than ever. One
or two attempted good advice, but no mar
gave 1t twice.
Inc afternoon of the next day found him
outside the home of his one-time friend
ne mad traced him to a villa on the out
sArts OF little town. The house stood a
hundred yards from any other. 1t was a
peaceful, pleasant little place. There was q
eieeh lawn in front, surrounded by trees
aho shrubs. and the road ran past it,
mere was plenty and comfort writer
"a se all over the place The lot of Charles
peOehham had evidently fallen in pleasant
Places, and George Carforth mentally con
'@S'ed his old friends position with hi;
o"h' and hatred grew deeper in his heart
- was hard to feel that he had just come
rum prison with a ticket-of-leave in hi;
POCKET, while the guilty man should be
"nuihg life so pleasant. 1t was his duty &c
see 70 more equitable distribution OF suf
fer:ng.
There was a little conse on one side of tbs