The Kennewick courier. [volume] (Kennewick, Wash.) 1905-1914, 1906-07-27

l stated was the truth. Are they not
going to ask her for her story? They
told me that she was to be asked. Sure
ly they will ask her"
II am not, perhaps, at liberty" said
Meekin, placidly, unconscious of the ag-
ony of despair and rage that made the
voice Of the strong man before him
culver, ito state the intentions of the
authorities, but 1 can tell you that Miss
Vickers will not be asked anything about
you. You are to go back to Port Ar
thur on the Oath, and to remain there"
4 groan burts from Rufus Dawes; a
groan so full of torture that even the
comfortable Meekin was thrilled by it.
Come" says Meekin, "you can't COM
plain. You have broken the law, and
you must suffer. Civilized society says
you sha'n't do certain things, and if
you do them you must suffer the penalty
civilized society imposes. You are not
wanting in intelligence, Dawes, more's
the pity-and you can't deny the justice
of that"
Rufus Dawes, as if disdaining to an
swer In words. cast his eyes round the
yard with a glance that seemed to ask.
81 lAAAy, IL SlNllILcu SOCIclv was pTOSIcSSr
ing quite in accordance with justice,
when its civilization created such places
az that stone walled. carbine-guarded
prison shed, and filled it with such crea-
lures as those forty human beasts, DOOM
ed to spend the best years of their man
hood cracking pebbles in it.
Meditating that night in the solitude
of his cell. he almost wept to think of
the cruel deception that had doubtless
been practiced on her. ''They have told
her that l was dead, in order that she
might learn to forget me; but she could
not do that. l have thought of her SO
often during these weary years that she
must sometimes have thought of me-.
Five years! She must be woman now
My little child a woman! Yet, she is
sure to be child-like, sweet and gentle
How she will grieve when she hears Of
my sufferings: OH my darling, my darl-
ing, you are not dead!7 And then look
ing hastily about him in the darkness,
as though fearful even there of being
seen. he pulled from out his breast a lit
tie packet. and felt it lovingly with his
coarse. toil-worn fingers. reverently rails
ing it to his lips. and dreaming over it,
with a smile on his face, As though it
were a sacred talisman that should open
to him the doors of freedom.
The usual clanking and hammering
were prevalent upon the stone jetty at
Port Arthur when the schooner bearing
the returned convict. Rufus Dawes, ran
alongside. He sat with his head bowed
down and his hands clasped about his
knees, disdaining to look until they
reused him.
HALO, Dawesv' says Warder Troke,
hating his train of ironed yellow-jackets.
$50 you've come back again! Glad to
see yer. Dawes! 1t seems an age since
we had the pleasure of your company.
Dawes" At this pleasantly the train
laughed. so that their irons clanked more
than ever. They found it often incon-
venient not to laugh at Mr.. Troke's hui
NOR "Step down here, Dawes, and let
me introduce yer to your hold friends.
They'll be glad to see yer, won't yer,
boys? Why, bless me, Dawes, we thort
we'd lost yer! We thort yer'd given us
the slip altogether, Dawes. They didn't
take caro- Of yer in Hobart Town, 1 ex-
pect, eh, boys? Well look after yer
here, Dawes, though. You won't bolt
any more"
Take care, Mr.. Troke," said a warn
ing voice, you're at it again! Let the
man alonev'
By virtue of an order transmitted
from Hobart Town. they had begun to
attach the dangerous prisoner to the
last man Of the gang, riveting the leg
irons of the pair by means of an extra
link which could be removed when nee
essary; but Dawes had given no sign of
consciousness. At the sound of the
friendly tones. however, he looked up,
and saw 4 tall, gaunt man, dressed in a
shabby pepper and salt raiment. and
wearing a black handkerchief knotted
round his throat. He was q stranger to
him.
81 beg your pardon, Mr.. North" said
Troke, sinking at once the bully in the
sneak. II didn't see yer reverence"
"a parsonw thought Dawes, with dis.
appointment, and dropped his eyes.
II know that" returned Mr. North
coolly. "If you had, you would have
been all butter and honey. Don't you
trouble youself to tell a lie; it's quite
unnecessary. What's your name, my
| MANI"
Rufus Dawes had intended to scowl
but the tone, sharply authoritative rous-
| ed his automatic convict second nature
| and he answered. almost despite himself
| Rufus Dawes"
| "Oh," said Mr.. North, eying him With
curious air Of expectation that had
something plying in it. This is the
man, is it? I thought he was to 60 t.
the coal mines"
| $50 he u.s." said Troke, "but we hain't
| a-going to send there for fortnit, and
in the meantime I'm to work him on the
chain"
"Oh," said Mr. North again. "Lend
me your knife, Troke."
And then, before them all, this curious
parson took a piece of tobacco out OF
his ragged pocket, and cut off "chaw'
with Mr.. Troke's knife. Rufus Dawes
felt what he had not felt for three days
an interest in something. He stared
at the parson in unaffected astonish
ment. Mr.. North perhaps mistook the
meaning of his fixed stare, for he helG
out the remnant Of tobacco to him.
The chain-iine vibrated At this, ani
bent forward to enjoy the vicarious de
light of seeing another man chew to
| bacco. Troke grinned with q silent mirt}