The Pacific commercial advertiser. [volume] (Honolulu, Hawaiian Islands) 1885-1921, 1906-12-23

rushing from the room he seemed tc
pass into nothingness and become a
part of it.
When he came to himself again
Fletcher was back in his living room
seated in his armchair. Beyond
through the rope portieres he could see
his little family at their solitary feast
His wife, sitting in his place, often
pressed her handkerchief to her eyes
and seemed to be sobbing; only his lit
tie boys We're happy over their frozen
dainties. He noticed that his wife had
removed her siIken scarf once or
twice the White-coated japanese SER
want passed the lonely and frightened
man. looked out of the front door and
down the street and then returned,
shaking his head, to the side of his
anxious mistress. Fletcher started up
once and accosted the boy as he cross
ed the room but got no answer, though
he thought he heard a low chuckle in
the air about him. Then came the
sound of shutting feet and he arose to
see some neighbors come up the steps
and, pausing solemnly at the door,
press the electric button. The bell
buzzed shrilly. Fletcher arose and
went forward, noting that one of the
visitors was his wife's pastor. He
! greeted the group but no one replied
! and he saw that the visitors were look
ing beyond him, and it seemed through
him, into the dining room. Dimly at
! the foot of the steps he saw another
group laying a heavy burden upon the
grass, upon which they were about to
place some sort of covering. Chilled
! by great fear, he knew not of what,
Fletcher thrust himself down the steps
] to come upon his own lifeless form, the
staring, waxen rightly of the face
deeply furrowed by a jagged cut in
which blood had c1otted, and the form
crushed into itself as if by the impact
: of some mighty force Choking, gasp
! ing, his arms beating the air with a
! maniac's sad irrelevancy, Norman
Fletcher rushed into the street, his soul
tormented by a woman's Shrek which
ended in the fall of a body and in utter
silence.
AS he hurried on, pressing his palms
! upon his ears, he saw people hasten
ing by him in the direction of his
home. They did not see him as they
passed. One man, whose eyes shone
| eagerly and whose mouth was set in a
grim smile, he recognized as John
Goddard, rich widower who had
courted Alice Fletcher in her girlhood,
but whom she had passed by for him.
Fletcher caught but a phrase or two:
cts hard for her now said one cat
like woman whom he knew as the
neighborhood gossip "but she'll find
that she's well rid of him. Some day
I'll put flea in her ear On a porch
he heard excited voices and paused to
listen: Yes, the fellow has been kill
ed. Did you see John Goddard hurry
ing by? Trust him to get there first.
He'll be consoling her for keeps this
time next year." There was a light
laugh and then some one said:
''I hear Fletcher was drunk when he
started home in the car
Was anybody else killed?'
mo; the rest of them were worth
saving"
Stupefed and angry, yet impotent to
make a reply, Fletcher hurried on. He
came to the derailed car and noticed
DULY that a crew from the power house
had PLACID their jacks under the wreck
and were preparing to get it back on
the track. He saw the dull color of
clotted blood upon some jagged
outcroppings of rock near by.
Suddenly, hearing a Merry Christ
mas" he stopped and then look
ed in sheer amaze. There, standing be-
fore him with an evil grin on his face
was a man whom he had helped, as
member of trial jury, ten years be-
fore, to send to the gallows. The fellow
was dressed in rusty black clothes of
bygOne period; he had no collar on
and his white shirt, open at the neck,
revealed purple scar or stain which
Fletcher did not remember to have seen
before. The neck itself was awry and
when the man moved it seemed to
sway as if it's connection with the
spine had loosened and the cartilage
had grown slack. When the man spoke
it was with a queer croaking sound.
Then it seemed to Fletcher that there
was something incorporeal, too, about
this dreadful yet familiar object. The
outlines of the figure merged with the
air so that one could not quite tell
where the atmosphere ended and the
man Legan. Was this a ghost? No,
surely; for the greeting of Fetch
er's strange companion was tangible
enough. And yet!
Merry Christmast" repeated the
voice jeeringly-a voice which Fletcher
We'll remembered despite its vulture
note Merry Christmas! I'm glad to
see you are one of us," And from
stark, scoffing figures that seemed to
gather from hiding places in the air,
came the echo of the earlier salutation,
Merry Christmas. Glad that you are
one of us!" Once, as if etched upon
the darkness. there peered at him a
wOman's face full of hatred and alb
horrence-a face, alas! he had known
bn
shrank and trembled and foam stood
upon his lips like frost and, turning, he
grasped at the thin, impalpable air as
drowning men grasp at the bubbles Of
the stream.
''One of you?" whispered the COVER
ing man. "one of you? Tell me. tell
me! is it's it true that I am dead?"
Dead" Kissed the nearer phantom as
the purple scar grew Iivid on
its neck and its head fell forward:
Dead! You are as dead as I was after