Shepherdstown register. [volume] (Shepherdstown, Va. [W. Va.]) 1849-1955, 1904-11-24

H-- ANNS
ager.
On the desk beside him was the
following letter, unsesled:
Being no longer able to conceal
my shortage, to hide the fact that the
safe does not contain the amount Of
money that it should, and being a
coward, l have chosen a coward 6
method Of paying my debt I do not
ask for pity. l only ask compassion
for my wife"
For moment the burglar stood un-
decided, the letter in his hand. Sud
denly. breaking the impressive silence,
came the loud ringing of telephone
bell. Instantly, involuntarily, the
burglar closed the lantern slide, grip
ped his pistol, and crOuched behind
the desk. Again the bell rang, and
mechanically he arose and walked to
the telephone. Standing with one
foot on each side of the dead manager,
he took down the receiver.
Hello !" he said, initiating the voice
of one whose eyes he could feel, but
could not see.
He was answered by woman.
"Oh, Henryl" she said, 81 have just
awakened from such vivid-such an
awful dream. l know it is silly; but
it frightened me. Idreamed that you
were in trouble, in disgrace. And
then I awoke, and found you had not
returne home. Oh, Henry what is
keeping you SO late? Come home at
once, will you not dear?"
Yes" the burglar replied, as one
in a daze.
DO" she continued, and there was
anxiety in her voice. 81 am go glad,
so glad it was only dream. l would
rather see you dead than dishonored,
Henry dear
The cracksman crept back to the
desk and seated him eli in the dead
mans chair, the w"man' voice still
ringing in his ears.
That voice 1t haunted him like
memory of the long ago, like an echo
of the days of childhood. 1t thrilled,
it stirred him. 1t aroused the old
mad love OF his boyhood. Whose
voice was it? Undoubtedly the wife
of that dead coward lying at his feet.
But who had she been before-before
she married him Z?
That voice ? Could it be Martha g :?
Years and years ago, when they were
schoolmates, he had loved Martha,
worshipping her from afsr, for che
lived in large house in the best part
of the town, and he was a child Of the
Slums.
Once he had thrashed- a boy for
teasing her, and she had smiled at
him. he had never forgotten that
smile. That was years and year, ago,
but, though she had long since passed
out Of his life, be had never loved
another. And now-was that voice
indeed the voice Of Martial
Again the burglar deliberately
opened the slide of his lantern and
turned the glsam upon the desk. Di-
rectly in front of him he saw a pic
ture in a silver frame. 1t was a pho
tograph of woman-not a phrtiCu-
larly handsome woman-but glorifsd
by dazzling .mile-and he recOg-
rized that smile
From that face he turned rSluct-
antly at last to gaze with scorn at the
cold features of the man lying there
with the scarlet mark o, sln upon his
brow.
With a smile be placed the letter.
the contemplate letter-in his pocket,
picked up Fraser'' pistol, replaced
the empty chamber with loaded
cartridge, and laid the weapon in a
drawer. Then he tore the collar Of
the cashiers coat, ripped one sleeve
half its length, and overturned the
chairs and scattered them about.
1t was nearly dsybreak. In a few
moments the gray would be creeping
up the eastern sky.
Quickly the burglar blew the safe
and scattered the gold and silver and
bank notes upon the floor.
Nov" he said to himself, "they
will find the bank broken, the safe
looted, the cashier murdered T.
Leaving bis soap and dark lantern
by the shattered cafe, he fed, and two
things only did he take-the cashiers
letter and the photograph in the sil-
yer frame.
Through the rain and darkness he
drove away, pennies, but not unhsp-
py. A womsn's smiling face seemed
to thank him. he laughed aloud as
he Asd throngh the pray of morning