The Irish standard., 1905-08-19

ran against table. After pause he
took match from his pocket and
struck it against the tabletop
In the dim light he saw the old
traveling-bag open before him. Clean
linen met his startled gaze, razor and
i shaving materials, sole leather case
containing toilet articles and a small
round mirror
A bit of candle, planted in its own
| drippings, stood in the center of the
table, while two other candles, un-
used, lay near it. Darrell applied the
Pickering match to the candle-wick
and then, from sheer WEAKNESS, fell
on an old stool at the table side
For space he rested, his eyes talk
ing in the objects spread out before
them and growing keen for the slight
est detail. One-half of the opened
traveling-bag lay over some papers.
Pushing the bag aside be saw a small
heap of letters and a red morocco
book, we'll worn and marked in tar
nished gilt: "Junius McCloud."
His gaze roved elsewhere and in an
instant he was brought up standing,
limbs rigid and eyes staring. Near the
papers, and lying SO that 1t had been
hidden by the opened travelling bag,
was revolver whose ebony stock was
carved with a deaths head.
Murgatroyd's! Sudden strength
swept through barrels body and he
plucked the candle from the tabletop
and whirled around, holding the light
above his head.
At the other end of the room was q
bunk built against the wall Beside the
bunk, across another stool, were the
corduroys, neatly folded.
A form lay in the bunk-a still form
whose wide, unmoving eyes seemed
fixed upon the intruder. Darrell heaved
a deep breath. The form was not that
of Mureatroyd but Of the easterner.
How came Murgatroyd's revolver
there? There were a dozen things
Darrell wanted to do, all at once, but
he set his hand to the thing nearest
him.
Picking up the revolver he examined
1t. That it was the same weapon he had
held in his hands a few hours before
five cartridges, their lead tips marked
with an M" convinced him beyond all
peradventure.
The weapon was AS and the empty
shell OF the sixth cartridge lay under
the hammer barrels breath came
hard and quick as he laid the revolver
back on the table.
He knew it. Murgatroyd had COM
mitted the murder for the purpose of
involving him and fate, working cir
cuitously, had developed Murgatroyd's
guilt through the agency of Junus Nc
Cloud, otherwise the man in corduroys
Life is game OF chance, Darrell
reasoned, and every man plays it
through with Fate for an opponent
1t is perforce an honorable game" for
Fate will tolerate none of your short
card gentry.
| The backs of the cards may not be
read and various tricks and makeshifts
are tabooed Fate loves a daring and
honest player; one for example who
will discard aces in the hope of help
ing" inferior cards.
But the play of Fate is peculiar, as
the establishing of Murgatroyds guilt
through the instrumentality of Nc
Cloud will witness. One thing alone
remained to make Darrel's assurance
doub1y sure.
The bullet that killed Sturgis was
in the possession of the doctor at
Sandy Bar. Would that bullet show
the mark which Darrell had put upon
every load in the weapon belonging to
Murgatroyd?
Darrell picked up the candle and
stepped to the bunk. Other matters,
till now, had kept him from thinking
much of the strange silence of Junius
McCloud.
A deathly pallor lurked in McCloud's
eyes. Darrell laid hand on the heart
but detected not the slightest pulsation.
The fugitive looked pensively down
on the silent form,
In turning away, Darrell saw paper
bag on a shelf near the head Of the
bunk. The bag contained food. Fam
ished as he was he began eating at
once, carrying the bag to the table and
clearing a place in front of him.
McCloud, Darrell reflected, had been
q fastidious person. The fugitive re-
called his furtive wiping of the dishes
at the Half Way house and wondered
to note that even then, as he lay in the
bunk, his face was cleanly shaven and
his hair neatly brushed.
There were no marks of violence on
McCloud's person and it must be that
he had taken something to hurry him
self out of the world His burden of
guilt had been greater than he could
bear and he had made his preparations
| and left life like gentleman.
In the midst Of his meal, Darrell
heard the impatient whinnying of the
horse. The animal was probably in
need of water and Darrell went out at
once, pulled UP the picket-pin and led
the horse to the creek. Then, after
seeking out fresh range, he drove
the pin into the ground once more
and returned to the house.
A bold expedient had suggested itself
to Darrell. Sweeping the uneaten food
aside he picked up the diary and
opened it.
A third of the leaves were gone, hav-
ing been torn raggedly from the book
and undoubtedly destroyed On the
remaining leaves there was not scrap
of writing.
A sigh Of disappointment escaped the
man and he laid down the book
l ond drow tho 1itt1o hoop re 1a+tor, =,