The Kimball graphic. (Kimball, Brule County, Dakota [S.D.]) 1883-1905, 1905-03-17
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ried him 10 his home With needless
haste.
He dined lightly. and drank but lit
lie wine that evening; then passing
into his study he gave orders that he
was not to be disturbed.
Electric light stlove to brighten this
cosy room With its thick carpet and
heavy %hangings. its bookshelves con-
tanning rare and handsomely bound
and presentation copies from their au-
,hors. Fencing foils he had brought
from Toledo hung over his portrait,
and around the library We're othercuri-
osities he had gathered in various cit
les and c-ontinents-an ivory idol
struggled from a Persian temple; a
Turkish scimitar. which had severed a
Christian head: Il Itinerary s%tatuette
in green glazed pottery he had un-
earthed in Egypt; n mosque lamp of
ancient date; Il scarab of the time of
Amenemhat II. Each had some pleas
! ant recollection attached to it, all he
valued. Therefore he looked upon
them with sad eyes, reluctant to say
farewell.
AS he lay back in his chair before
his desk. the despair that blinds hope.
letters joy, and brushes vitality, came
upon him.: but striving to rise above
these feelings, he set himself to his
task. He had already destroyed such
traces and mementoes of his past life
as he deemed too sacred for other eyes
to look upon when lie had gone. And
next he made a will leaving pensions
to his servants. dividing his valuables
among a few friends, and bequeathing
all else he possessed to Olive Dunn
barton.
1t was hard that While in the enjoy
Tent of vigor and vitality he should
make preparations for what was to
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would count him among the dead. He
was intelligent enough to know life
could not end here. and the dread of
wha. might come Was full upon him.
Yet he did not finch from his pur-
pose.
With overwhelming sadness h be-
gan a letter to mis- cousin. whom he
might never see again. and whom he
addressed now for the last time. And
while he wrote, the pain and despair
within him grew until tears blinded
his eyes and fell upon the page. More
Than once he laid down the pen as if
unable TO continue. and then again be-
luctant to say the final word fare
we'll to her he loved. And this MAS
what he wrote:
My Dear Olive: l begin by i'm
plorins you to forgive me for the cruel
wrong | have done you, which now, at
NAiS iaAC .Loui, L III 6otllS u repair.
When a few days 6 you said George
Bostock had not committed murder,
your woman's instinct was right: your
faith in him was justified. for it was /
who killed you husband.
When, on the night | dined with
YOU before leaving England. you told
me of his return, | was filled with UNI
easiness, not knowing what steps such
a scoundrel might take to prosecute
aud defraud you. l ought to have re-
manned by you, l, your only male rela-
tive, but my desire for pleasure was
too strong for my sense of duty, and
l went. While in Paris my anxiety
increased, but ever her 1 debated with
myself as to whether l should return
or continue my journey. I decided on
the latter. and then wrote and posted
to you the letter and book which
reached you that unhappy night. No
sooner, however. han l had done so,
than the heartlessness of my conduct
in leaving o unprotected became
plain. and I determined to return and
see for myself what course he had
taken. As my stay might be brief l
left my luggage behind and did not re-
turn to my house. then in charge of a
caretaker.
"on arriving at Charing Cross 1
stayed at the Eagle Hotel. and after a
late inner set out for Hixton road
with the intention Of surprising you.
Reaching there L caught eight of a
man walking stealthily up and down
in front OF your house. My first i'm
pulse was to accost. my second to
watch him, for which purpose I with
drew to the opposite sid of the road.
He disappeared, but finally returned,
when l saw him open the gate. BY
this time l had recognized him as
Dumbarton. n going over, l caught
hold of his shoulder and flung him
aside. Bitter words followed: he
struck me and 1 clutched him by the
throat, suddenly I felt a sharp pain in
my left shoulder, when. in a moment
OF passion. l snatched the knife with
which l was stabbed from his hand,
and struck him with 1t in the breast.
Startled by what l had done and by
the fear of its consequences. I rushed
from the spot. until hearing a servants
cries and seeing a policeman. 1 paused,
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