Twice-a-week plain dealer. (Cresco, Howard County, Iowa) 1895-1913, 1906-04-03

Tie cravat was never tied. Toms
hands dropped to his sides as he start
ed back from the staring face in the
mirror. Robert Carewe was waiting,
and Crailey- All at once there was
but one vital necessity In the world for
Tom Vanrevel = that was to find
Crailey. He must go to Crailey even.
IN Carewe's own house. He must 20.
to Crailey!
He dashed down the stairs and into
the street. The people were making a,
great uproar in front Of the hotel ex-
ploding bombs, firing muskets in the
air, sending up rockets, and, rapidly
crossing the outskirts Of the crowd, he
passed into Carewe street unnoticed.
Here the detonations were not so deaf
ening, though the little steamboat at
the wharf was contributing to the con-
fusion with all in her power, screeching
simultaneously approval of the celebra-
ton and her last signals Of departure.
At the first corner Tom had no more
than left the sidewalk when he came
within a foot Of being ridden down by
two horsemen who rode at so desperate
gallop that, the sound of their hoof
beats being lost in the uproar from
Main street, they were upon him before
he was aware Of them.
He leaped back with an angry shout
to know who they were that they rode
SO wildly. At the same time sharp
explosion at the foot of the street sent
a red fare over the scene, flash, gone
with such incredible swiftness into re-
newed darkness that he saw the flying
horsemen almost as equestrian statues
tlumined by flicker Of lightning, but
he saw them with the same distinct
ness that lightning gives and recogniz-
ed the former as Robert Carewe, and in
the instant Of that recognition Tom
knew what had happened to Crailey
Gray, for he saw the truth in the ghast-
ly face Of his enemy.
Carewe rode stifhy, like man frozen
upon his horse, and his face was like
that of frozen man, his eyes CLASSY
and not fixed upon his course, so that
it was deathly thing to see. Once,
long ago, Tom had seen man riding
for his life, and he wore this same
look. The animal bounded and swerv-
ed under Vanreveps enemy in the mad
rush down the street. but he sat rigid,
bolt upright in the saddle, his face set
to that look Of GOODNESS.
The second rider was old Nelson, who
rode with body crouched forward, his
eyeballs like shining porcelain set in
ebony and his arm like a fail cruelty
flashing his own horse and his masters
with heavy whip.
DE steamboat" he shouted hoarse-
~, bringing down the lash on one and
then on the other. de steamboat, de
steamboat! Fo' Gods sake, honey, de
steamboatp'
They swept into Main street, Nelson
leaning far across to the others bride
and turning both horses toward the
river, but before they had made the
corner Tom Vanrevel was running with
all the speed that was In him toward
his enemy's house. The one block be-
tween him and that forbidden ground
seemed to him miles long, and he felt
that he was running as man in a
dream and at the highest pitch of ago
niZed exertion, covering no space, but
only working the air in one place, Like
treadmill. All that was in his mind,
heart and soul was to reach Crailey.
He had known by the revelation Of
Carewe's face in what case he would
find his friend, but Us he ran he put
the knowledge flom him with great
shudder and resolved upon incredulty
In spite Of his certainty. All he let
himself feel was the need to run, to
run until he found Crailey, who was
somewhere In the darkness of the trees
about the long, low house on the cor
ner. When he reached the bordering
hedge he did not stay for gate or path,
but with loud shout hurled himself
half over, half through, the hedge, like
bolt from catapult.
Lights shone from only one room in
the house, the library, but as he ran
toward the porch candle dlckered in
the hall, and there came the sound of
voice weeping with terror.
At that he called more desperately
upon his increduliy to aid him, for
the voice was Mrs. Tanberry's. If 1t
had been any other than she who sob
bed so hopelessly, she who was al
ways steady and strongl If he could