Burlington weekly free press. [volume] (Burlington, Vt.) 1866-1928, 1907-09-12

He was master of his emotions sufii-
GENTLY to control his voice. He pune
tuated their recital by occasional COM
ments that showed he appreciated ev-
cry point. He examined with interest
specimens of their work, for they UNI
derstood both the stitching and the
stamping OF leather and once he found
himself duly specializing as to what
career he would have carved out for
himself were he given in boyhood the
opportunities they rejoiced in.
But throughout there was in his sur
charged brain current of cunning
purpose. First, there was Greiner,
away I'm the north robbing dead man
and plotting desolatlon to some girl.
He must be dealt with.
| Then he, the slayer, must be slain
and by his own hand He would spare
his sons as much pain ms might be
within his power.
| lie would not merely disappear, leav-
ing them dubious and distressed. No.
They must know he wns dead, not by
suicide. but by accident. They would
mourn his wretchcd memory. Better
that than live with the abiding grief
of the knowledge that he was Philip
| Ansons murderer.
He was quite sure now that the dead
J would arise and call for vengeance IL
he dared to continue to exist Yes,
that was it--a life for n life prayer
that his deeds might not bear fruit in
| his childrcn-and then death, speedy,
certain death.
Some reference to the future made
by Willie, the younger, who favored
| his mother more than the outspokcn
John, gave Mason an opportunity to
pave the way for the coming sepnra.
ton.
II don't want you two lads to make
any great changes on my account" he
said slowly. 1T Is far from my in
tention to settle down here and LET
oil your friends become aware that
you are supporting a ticket OF leave
father Yes, | know. You are good
boys, and it won't be any more pleas
ant for me toto live away from you
than it would he for yO,I--uuder other
conditions-to be separated from me.
Butt am in earnest in this matter.
will stop here tonight just to feel
that | am under the same roof as you.
1t Is your roof, not mine. Long ago
I lost the right to provide you with a
shelter. Tomorrow l go away. have
some work to do-a lot of work. II
must be attended to at once. Of
course you will see me often We can
meet In the evening" 60 ont together
but live herewith you'll can't"
His sons never knew the effort that
this speech cost him. lie spoke with
such manifest hesitation that Willie.
who quickly interpreted the less pro
nounced signs of n mans thoughts.
winkcd warning at his brother.
He said, with an optic signal:
Not word now, John. lust leave
things as they are"
Under any ordinary conditions he
would be right He could never guess
the nature of the claims that encircled
his father, delivering him rettered to
the torture, bound hand al foot, body
and soul.
At last they all retini to their
rooms, the boys to whisper kindly
plans for keeping their father a pris-
oner again in their hands, Mason TO lie
open eyed, dry eyed. through the night,
mourning for that which might not be.
The rising sun diapelled the dark
phantoms that fitted before his vision.
He fell into titful >umber, disturb
ed by vivid dreams. once he was OH II
storm swept sea at night on sinking
ship, a ship with a crew Vf dead men
and dead captain at tho holm.
Driving onward through the raging
waves, he could feel the vessel settling
more surely as she rushed into each
yawning caldron. Suddenly through
the wreck of dying spirdrift he saw a
smooth hnrbor, a sheltered basin. in
which vessels rode il safety. There
were houses beyond, With cheerful
lights, and men and women were
watching the doomed craft from the
firm security Of the land
But strain his eyes a. he would he
could see no entrance TO that harbor,
naught save furious seas breaking over
relentless walls OF granite.
Even in his dream he was not afraid
He asked the captain. with an oath:
lis there no way lnt'
And the captain turned corpSelike
eyes toward him. 1t was Philip Arson.
The dreamer uttered a wild beasts
howl and shrank away.
Then he awoke to find Willie stand
ing by bis bedside with soothing words.
ut Is all right, father. You were dis
tnrbeo IN your sleep. Don't get up yet.
1t is only s O'Clock"
At that hour a policeman left his
cottage In a village ON the YORK shire
coast and walked leisurcly toward the
Grange House.
He traversed four miles of rough
country, and the sun was hot, so he
did not hurry. About half past 6 he
reached the farm. There were no signs
OF activity such as may be expected In
the country Mt that hour.
lie examined three sides OF the build
ing carefully-the sea front was mac
cessible-and waited many minutes be-
fore he knocked at the door. There
was no answer. He knocked again
more loudly. The third time his sum
mons would have aroused the Seven
Sleepers, but none came.
He tried the door and ratified it.,
peered In at the windows. stood back
Ia the garden and looked up at the bed
rooms.
"A queer business" he muttered as