Lincoln County leader. [volume] (Toledo, Lincoln County, Or.) 1893-1987, 1906-08-03
Tor The Term of His Natural Life
By MARCUS CLARKE



with him, John Rex gradually found
himself attracted into something like
friendliness by the sternness with which
MS overtures were repealed.
Have you no friends whom you wish
10 seer he asked, one evening, when
Rufus Dawes had proved more than
usually deaf to his arguments
No" said Dawes. gloomily. "My
friends are all dead TO me-
What, ALP asked the other. "Most
men have some one whom they wish to
see'
Il have resolved l stay here"
"And leave your innocence unprov-
ed"
How can I prove it?" cried Rufus
Dawes, roughly impatient There are
crimes committed which are never
brought to light, and this is one of
them"
Well said Rex, as If weary of the
discussion. have it your own way, then.
You know best. The private detective
game is hard work. l, myself, have
gone on a wild goose chase before now
Ihere's mystery about a certain ship
builders son which took me four months
to unravel, and then lost the thread"
"A shipbuilder's son! Who was hep"
John Rex paused in wonderment at
the eager interest with which the ques-
ton was put, and then hastened to take
advantage of this new opening for con-
yersation. "a queer story. A we'll
known character in my time-Sir Rich
ara Devine. A miserly old curmudgeon,
with scape-grace son."
Rufus Dawes bit his lips to ayoid
showing his emotion. This was the sec
ond time that the name of his dead
father had been spoken in his hearing.
Il think | remember something of him.
he said, with voice that sounded
strangely calm in his own ears.
"A curious story" said Rex, plunging
into past memories. among other mat
ters, l dabbled a little in the private
inquiry line of business and the old man
came to me. He had a son who had
gone abroad-a wild young dog. by all
accounts-and he wanted particulars of
| him."
Did he get them?'
10 certain extent. I hunted him
through Paris into Brussels, from Brus-
sels to Antwerp, from Antwerp back to
Paris. lost him there. A miserable
end to long and expensive search.
got nothing but portmanteau with q
lot OF letters from his mother. l sent the
particulars to the shipbuilder, and by all
accounts the news killed him. for he died
not long after"
And the son?'
Game to the queerest end of all The
old man had left him his fortune
large one, / believe-but he'd left Eu.
rope, it seems, for India, and was lost in
the Hydaspes. Frere was his cousin -
"Ahw
IL annoys me when l think of it,"
continued Rex. with the resources I
had, too! Oh, miserable failure, The
days and nights I've spent walking about
looking for Richard Devine. and never
catching glimpse of him. The old man
gave me his sons portrait with full par
tlculars of his early life, and suppose |
carried that ivory gimcrack in my brea st
pocket for nearly three months, pulling
1t out to refresh my memory every half
hour. III the young gentleman was any
thing like his picture, l could have
sworn to him if I'd met him in Tim
buctoo."
do you think you'd know him
again" asked Rufus Dawes, In a low
voice, turning away his head.
There may have been something in the
attitude in which the speaker had put
himself that awakened memory, or per
haps the subdued eagerness of the tone,
contrasting so strangely with the COM
parative inconsequence of the theme,
had caused John Rex's brain to perform
one of those feats of automatic synthe-
sis at which we afterward wonder. The
profligate son-the likeness to the Dor
trait-the mystery of Dawes life! These
were the links of galvanic chain. He
closed the circuit, and vivid flash re-
vealed to him-The Man.
Warder Troke coming up, put his
hand on Rex's shoulder Dawes" he
said, you're wanted at the yard" and
then, seeing his mistake, added, with n
grin, Curse you two; you're so much
alike one can't tell t'other from which"
Rufus Dawes walked off moodily: but
John Rex's evil face turned pale, and a
strange hope made his heart leap.
"Troke's right, we are alike. I'll not
press him to escape any more"