The Denison review. [volume] (Denison, Iowa) 1867-current, 1906-03-29

"He1lo! Stop therer' he shouted.
holding his bicycle to block our road.
where did you get that dogcart? Pull
up, man." lie yelled, drawing pistol
from his side pocket. Pull up, say,
or, by George, I'll put bullet into your
horse"
Holmes threw the reins into my lap
and sprang down from the cart.
''Yo--'re the man we want to see.
Where is Miss Violet Smith, he said
In his quick, clear way.
h.. That's what I'm asking you. You're
in her dogcart. You ought to know
where she is"
I'VE met the dogcart on the road.
There was no one in it. We drove back
to help the young lady"
Good Lord. good Lord! What shall
do?" cried the stranger In an ecstasy
of despair. They've got her-that hell
hound Woodley and the BLACKBOARD
parson. Come, man, come, il you really
are her friend. Stand by me, and we'll
save her, if have TO leave my carcass
in Charlington wood"
He ran distractedly. his pistol in his
hand, toward gap in the hedge.
Holmes followed him, and l. leaving
the horse grazing beside the road, fol-
lowed Holmes.
'rhis is where they came through
said he. pointing to the marks of sew
eral feet upon the muddy path. "Hello!
Stop minute! Who's this in the
bush?''
1t was young fellow about seven
teen, dressed like hostler, with leath
er cords and CATERS. He lay upon his
back. his knees drawn up, terrible
cut upon his head. He was insensible,
but alive. A glance at his wound told
me that 1t had not penetrated the
bone.
That's Peter, the groom! cried the
stranger. HE drove her. The beastS
have pulled him off and dubbed him.
Let him lie; we can't do him any good,
but we may save her from the worst
fate that can befall woman"
We ran frantically down the path,
which wound among the trees. We had
reached the Shrubbery which surround
ed the house when Holmes pulled up.
'They did:.'t 20 to the house. Here
are their marks on the left-here beside
the laurel bushes. All, said so!'
AS he spoke woman's shrill scream
"A scream which vibrated with a fren-
" Of horror-burst from the thick
Ereen clump of bushes in front of US.
1t ended suddenly on it's highest note
with choke and gurgle.
"This way! This way. They are in
the bowling alley cried the stranger,
darting through the bushes. 'Ah, the
cowartlly dogs! Follow me. gentlemen!
Too late. too late. by the living jingo!'
We had broken suddenly into love
" glade of greensward surrounded by
ancient trees. On the farther side of
It, under the shadow of a mighty oak,
there stood q singular group of three
dropping and faint. handkerchief
round her mouth. Opposite her stood
a brutal, heavy faced, red mustached
young man. his gathered legs parted
wide, one arm akimbo, the other way
ing a riding crop. his whole attitude
suggestive of triumphant bravado. Be
tween them an elderly, gray bearded
man, wearing short surplice over 6
light tweed suit. had evidently just
completed the wedding service, for he
pocketed his PRAYER book as we APP
peared and slapped the sinister bride
groom upon the back in jovial congrat
ulation.
They're married.' l gasped.
"Come on" cried our guide. Come
ono He rushed across the glade
Holmes and at his heels. AS we ap
preached the lady staggered agains
the trunk of the tree for support. Viii
, hanson, the eX-clcrgyman, bowed t
us With mock politeness, and the bully
9 Woodley, advanced with shout o
!. brutal and eXultant laughter.
"You can take your beard off, Bob,
said he. II know you right enoug!
n Well, you and your pals have jus
D come in time for me to be able to II
r troduce you to Mrs. Woodley."
e Our guides answer was singula
i one. He snatched off the dark bear
which had disguised him and threw
e on the ground, disclosing q long, sa
), low, clean shaven face below it. The
a he raised his revolver and covered tn
O young ruffian. who was advancing uI
O on him with his dangerous riding GRO
l. swinging in his hand.
t. EYES," said our ally II am Bob Cal
II ruthers. and I'll see this woman righ1
i ed If have to swing for it. told 70
a what I'd do If you molested her, ant
t. by the Lord, I'll be as good as NJ
d word
I. you're too late. She's my wife,"
I, "No; she's your widow"
:, His revolver cracked, and I say
d blood squirt from the front of WOOD
ley's waistcoat. He spun round with
q scream and fell upon his back, his hil
e. eous red face turning suddenly to
IT dreadful notified pallor. The old maj
still clad in his surplice, burst into sue
s a string of foul oaths as have nevc