Condon globe. (Condon, Gilliam Co., Or.) 189?-1919, 1904-04-21

my word--aa / always do, and alwayv
win. don't want your hel p-you are IN
the way, and must go'
Cor echoed the men.
''ThIs house viii be unsafe after to-
night, and we must vanish before It's
spotted. win be In London tomorrow
evening, ct the old place, with your
money"
One by one these men drifted away
from home, without 4 thought Of Sarah
Eagtbell's safety, and with an immense
amount Of consideration for their own.
IL was not murder that troubled their
mind 80 acuteiy rs completely with Il. de-
lection, and sentence. II Ned would
take all the risk, he might murder half
Worcester for what they cared: but Il
was out Of their line, and they would pre-
fer 70 return to London as quickly as
possible, add wait for the money that had
been promised them, or the bad news
they half expected instead. II was two
O'Clock In the afternoon before the last
OF the three men passed out Of the house,
and went away down the narrow lane
which led from the high road.
Captain Peterson stood at the front
door. He was In excellent spirits, and
he waved his hand to. the disputatious
Barney, who was the last 10 leave, by
way Of friendly salutation at parting.
They're gone." he muttered, "and
they're better gone, whichever way this
affair 10 likely 10 turn out"
He fingered at the door meditating on
the great scheme Of bis life. The sky was
overcast, and he looked up at Il and
prophesled to himself that II would rain
before the morning He walked round to
the opposite side Of the house and gazed
moodily at the water flowing twenty
PAGES from him, and at a boat lying on
the long grass above the river bank. One
glance at the darkened window In the top.
most story where his fortune lay, be
thought, and then he returned to the
house meditating on the difficulties In
his way, and of his genius TO surmount
them. He went into the house, and up
stairs to the first floor room, wherein we
have seen him gaze with interest at an
early hour Of the morning.
"Bess," he aaid in a sharp voice, and
at the summons a small thin-faced child,
In hat and cloak, appeared at the door.
You have come back then, father"
"Yes."
Edward Peterson went downstairs, fol-
lowed by the little girl. At the front
door he said:
"You were wise to keep to your room
to-day, little woman, for they have been
very cross, and Mrs. Eastbell has been
worse than eyer. You must find your
way to Worcester tonight, all by your
self. Two miles from here Is a railway
station-you know 1t, where the red and
green lights shine out like big eyes after
dark. You have run about here good
deal, and know your way well, and you
can find the station. Now, take care Of
that money"
He placed some money In her hands,
and she wrapped 1t up In a corner Of a
dirty white handkerchief, and tucked It
down the bosom of her dress, wrapping
her cloak round her afterward with all
the carefulness and confidence Of q
woman.
"At the railway station ask for third
class ticket for Worcester. When the
train comes up to the platform, get in.
When they call out Worcester get out.
At Worcester lady, very pretty, and
with hands full of toys, will be waiting
for you at the postofTiee. Ask the way
to the postofiice like woman as you are,
and when you see the lady under the
clock, say, Pa keeps his word-I'm Bes-
sie.'"
"All right" said the child again, with
rare amount Of confidence In her own
of the details, which, |
however, he asked her to repeat, listen |
ing attentively to the recital.
She needed no second bidding to be cff |
1T had not been so happy home that
she should grieve for It or him, and there |
had been promise of glorious change |
for her, and bright child-world. She |
ran Off quickly toward the narrow lane,
already full of shadow that murky after
noon.
CTo be continued.l