The Muskogee cimeter. [volume] (Muskogee, Indian Territory, Okla.) 1901-19??, 1904-07-14
tations lay on the desk in scattered

cred with dust, and evidently hal not
been removed for days. The piano
that stood in the corner showed the
same signs Of neglect.
In fact, the only, thing that showed
any evidence OF having had any care
or attention given to 1t, or of having
been used lately, was a heavy cane
of brown wood, which stood in the
umbrella stand. 1t was nicked and
SCARED as though it had been used in
climbing rocky passes and pushing
through bushes and underbrush-
which it had. He spent most of his
| time out Of doors, especially in the
evening, when he would walk many
miles over the winding country roads,
and come home late at night, or early
in the morning, tired and worn, but
| able to sleep.
He could not have told when or
where these changes had come upon
him. so gradual had been their ap-
proach. He only knew that none of
| his former enjoyments was even bear
able now. And tonight his agony of
mind seemed greater than it had been
before If he had ever dreamed that
1 the possession of this house, and it's
comforts, would have changed him
from a careless, comparatively con-
tented man, to careworn, restless,
unhappy wretch, he told himself he
! would sooner have cut off his right
hand than to have secured it as he
did. But then, he thought, it was
too late now for vain regrettings. The
deed was done, and he must suffer the
consequences.
His was not a strong character He
loved his ease, his bodily comforts
and mental designations. He had al.
ways wished to live comfortably,
without any exertion Of his own body
or mind. From earliest childhood he
had chosen the easiest paths, snun-
ming the hard ones, ard had constant
ly, since reaching manhood, schemed
and planned to continue in this path
way of roses. Work was hateful to
him. He loathed early hours and
close application as a cat hates water,
and for the same reason-they dis
turbed his comfort. But back in his
selfish soul, hidden among the baser
traits, was slowly awakening con-
science.
A few drops of rain dashed against
the window, and the wind sent the
branches Of a tree tapping on the
glass. 1t was a night exactly like the
night he earned his title. He never
called himself Thief, nor did anyone
he knew; but there was a small voice
that dinned it ever in his ear.
AS he sat here In his arm chair, he
seemed to be struggling along coun-
try road against a storm; though he
heard the cracking Of flames, what
he seemed to hear was the suck and
splash of flying hoofs; though he
looked at red brick and dying fire,
he saw, as in dream, rider loom
cut of the darkness; saw him lean
and strike the horse and as he dashed
on into the night, futterirg white
something fell from his pocket into
the mud. Then the Thief saw him
self pick it up. 1t was folded cocu
ment, bearing a seal; he took 1t to his
little room and opened ii with tremb
ling fingers. 1t was his sisters will
There was an inner seal, bat this, like
the outer one, was not sealed nor
stamped. Wax had merely been
dropped on each side of the fold. and
left to harden. When 1t was neces
sary to seal it the wax would be re
heated, and the edges drawn together
and stamped. She had always fixed
her letters that way.
He fastened to read 1t, casting his
eyes at once to the bottom. 1t had
not been witnessed, though her sigma
ture was there. But as he looked
rapidly over the paper his heart sanl