The Kimball graphic. (Kimball, Brule County, Dakota [S.D.]) 1883-1905, 1904-06-03

thought. there sat the master, dead:
dead, and { alone knew his story. How
back; how it oppressed me.
l bent down in tender sympathy to
look again upo his wasted features,
n kneeling, ga2ed into his wide
open eyes. TIE calm of promised peace
upen MS brow WAS distorted by the UNI
satisfied expression o. one who has left
his work undone.
So are the sins of the fathers visited
upon their children. for l was no longer
IN Il but that the murderer. Pedro
prteZ, was the SHINING ancestor of my
old-time friend. Even III his presence
my thoughts flew to Agnes; had she not
spoken OF her grandsire as being such
q man? The %stiffening body at my side
was speedily forgotten in the music of
this meditation.
| gained my feet again and looked
down upon him, fascinated by the
changeless features of the dead. 1t
was probably natura that standing
there j should revoive the whole mat
ter over and over again, from the first
1 knew of it until the last. a YOUNG
mans plans. though, work ever with
the living; the dead he places in their
TOMB. covers them with earth. bids
them "Godspeed," and banishes The
recollection. l was already busy with
my contemplated search for the last
dArtin. n stood there leaning against
the oaken table pondering over the
question, Where is the last d'Artin?'
My mind wandered. returning with a
logged persistence to that one thought.
w here is the last d'Artin?" Where
could L find him?" My restless eye
roamed round the cherries room. COM
ing back to rest upon Il long dust-cov-
cred mirror set in the wall across the
| way.
AS window-driven clouds gather and
group themselves in fantastic s.apes.
SO, deep in that mirrors shadowy
depths, a vague figure gradually took
i'Tm and character--myself.
With the vacant glance OF a man
Whose mind is Intensely preoccupied. I
studied n:inutely the reflection. my own
bearing, my dress. my weapons. / even
noted a button Off my coat, and tried
dlnliy to remember where l had lost it,
until-great God-this chamber Of
death and revelation had turned my
brain.
What face was that / saw? NV own.
assuredly, but so like another.
Aghast, powerless to move or cry out,
stared helplessly into the glass.
Every other sensation vanished now
before this newborn terror which held
my soul enslaved. I closed my eyes. I
dared not look.
My body seemed immovable with
~ q dloSc III
pointed at the mirror. Scant need there
was to call attention to that dim, ter
rlbl!e presence; my Whole soul shrank
from the ghostly face reflected in the
glass. For there, there was the same
pallid countenance. death-distorted
and drawn, which I had coniured up in
many a frightened dream as that of the
murdered count-there was Henri
d.Artin.
How long stood transfxed, point
ing into the mirror, l know not. AS
men think of trifles even in times of
deadly fear, SO die my lips frame over
and over again the last question 1 had
IN mind before all sense forsook me,
Where is the last d'Artin? Where is
the last d'Artin? Where"
And in answer to my question, that
long, rigid finger pointed directly at me
from out the dusty glass. 1t was as if
the hand of the dead had told me who 1
was.
1t had been no blind chance, then,
which led me to the Paris house of the
BLACK VOLTS Head the girls ring
with the same device, and the grew
some narrative beneath the shadow of
the Wolf at the Norman ruin-nothing
less than fate had brought these lights
to me.
Verify some more logical power "a
unreasoning accident must direct the
9SSPo " LlAClls 1oo VI JtSltCe per
haps had placed these tokens in my
path. And soldiers call this For
tune"
I dispatched Pachaco to Biloxi with
the news OF death, and long before the
afternoon our few simple arrangements
for his funeral had been made.
Bury me here. Placide, beneath this
great a he had said to me one day.
1.-The Infinite Mercy will consecrate the
grave OF pe%nitence, wherever it may
be-"
He a his wish.
CHAPTER XIII.
A NOTE WHICH WENT ASTRAY,
Meanwhile Jacques q undertaken
to manage my little affair at Biloxi
with tact and discretion. AND this Is
how the fellow did it:
1t seems that Jacques thought no
harm of the note. n when he took 1t
first to the house my lady was out.
The one fellow, doing his best 10
carry out my instructions. refused to
leave it. When he returned, my lady
worked, bent down her flow
ers, In the little garden beside her cot
tage. The Chevalier stood some dis
lance off, busted soneway, Jacques
knew not how, but with his face
he came up. jacques handed the note
to my lady through the fence, and she
took it gently by the corner, fearing to
soil 1t. She held it up to look at the
name written upon it. End seeing it
was her own, looked again more curl
ously at the writing. She did not know
the hand. Then she gaily called to the
Chevalier:
CONTINUED Next Week.)
Has Roosevelt Heard of Him?
"Tlis pass is for yourself and family
1 see," said the conductor. where is