Waterbury evening Democrat., 1904-02-27

girl. Yet still the love seemed to
 soften him. Into his life had come
 new, strange emotions. AS he swayed l in contention, the face of Wrong 1 fronting him became the face of Sin
 repellent, abhorrent; how could he ruin her life, and by criminal act?
 Hour by hour the struggle went on,
 until, exhausted, Crane flung himself
 upon his bed to rest 8 few minutes, and sleep, unsought, came, and hushed
 the turmoil of his heart.
 AS the first glint of the sunlight came through the uncurtained window, he sprang from his couch with the call of an uncompleted something in his ears.
 But calm had come to him in his sleep; the question of right or wrong l had been settled. As he slumbered AL lis Porter had come with the big gray eyes full of tears and asked him once again to spare Mortimer humiliation for her sake. And he had answered, |'He is innocent" God! he remembered it, even now it thrilled through his frame-she had bent over and kissed him on the forehead. Yes, that was 1 things dreams were. He had won just a kiss and had paid the price of his love; and now waking, and in the calm of a conflict passed, he had won l over the demon that had tempted him. He had lost; but he would prove him. l self good loser,
 l s... XLII. .t...+ ..,t | That day Crane went to Brookfeld. At Brookfield he went to the hotel, secured an isolated sitting room up- stairs, and with this as hall of jus ! tice, followed out with his usual care ! fulness a plan he had conceived. First he wrote brief note to Allis Porter asking her to come and see him at | once. One line he, wrote made certain l the girls coming, "I have important news to communicate concerning MT. Mortimer" Then he sent the note off with a man. Next he dispatched a messenger for David Cass. It was three o'clock '.I think five will do," he muttered; 'it should be all over by that time" Another note addressed to Mortimer, asking him to call at the I hotel at five o'clock, went forth. David Cass came. treading on the heels of much-whiskied hostler who had summoned him. '.. s..
 "You sent for me, sir?" he asked of Crane. It may have been the stairs that put 8 waver in his voice.
 "Take seat, MT. Cass," Crane an- swered, arranging chair so that Q strong light from the one window fell across the visitors face.
 | The hostler had left the sitting-room door open; Crane closed 1t carefully and, sitting with his back to the win dow, said to the bank clerk: "Mr. 1 3Cass, am going to be very candid with you: am going to tell you that 1 l have discovered you stole the thou sand dollars Mortimer has been ac- cused of taking"
 Cass's face blanched bluish white: 1 watery, blue eyes opened wide in ter TOT; he gasped for breath; he essayed l to speak-to give even a cry of pain, but the muscles of his tongue were l paralyzed. His right hand resting on l the arm of his chair, as Crane ceased speaking, fell hopelessly by his side. Crane waited for his victim to speak. At last Cass found strength to say: | 'Mr. Crane, this is terrible accusa- | ton: there is some dreadful mistake I did not-''
 | The other interrupted. The mans defense must be so abjectly hopeless, such a cowardly weak string of lies, that out of pity, Crane continued l tho. fxz man tight in the grasp of fierce denun- citation. @
 "You stole that note You sent 1t, with a quick-delivery stamp to your 1 brother Billy Cass, in New York, and 1 he bet it for you on my horse, The Dutchman, on the thirteenth, and lost l it. Mortimer, thinking that Alan Por- I ter had taken the money, replaced it. 1 and you nearly committed a greater crime than stealing when you allowed l him to De a1snonOred, allowed him to be accused and all but convicted of your foolish sin. It is useless to deny it, all this can be proved in court. l have weighed the matter carefully, and i if you confess you will not be prose- cuted; if you do not, you will be sent l to the penitentiary." .r ...,
 Cass rose from his chair, steadying himself with his hands on the table, and spoke in voice scarce stronger than the treble of child's: My God! MT. Crane! Do you mean it, that you won't prosecute me?"
 Not if you confess.''
 Thank God--thank you, sir. I'm glad, I'm glad; I've been in hell for days. I haven't slept. Mortimer's eyes have stared at me through the night, for liked him-everybody liked him he was good to me. Oh, God! should have gone out of my mind with more of it. The devil put it into my hands. But it wasn't that-tt wasn't the money--it was to think that an inno- cent man was to suffer-to have his life wrecked because of my folly"
 How it was coming home to Crane. Had he not dabbled his hands in the same sin, almost committed it?
 You have never known what it is 1 n in hat RJ1t 1ot al