Courier Democrat. (Langdon, N.D.) 1891-1920, 1907-08-29
CHAPTER 1.

CHAPTER /.
XN the year 1887 and on a warm,
moist April morning there knock
ed at a modest lodging house in
- Rolls buildings, Fetter lane, q re-
cent lodger who could no longer afford
even the attic's trifing rent. So now
he made his bed in the parks Of the
metropolis or In the damp green fields
outside. And for all he protested to
care, the damp was welcome to kill
him If only it would kill outright.
The man was very fair and spare,
but Of a medium height. His hands
and feet were notably small, the wrists
and arms q little deceptive. These
looked lean, but were made of muscle
and quickened with hot, keen blood.
he vas very young; but, though as a
fact not five and twenty, the thin, sar
donic, reckless face looked half as old
again. An abiding bitterness had curl
ed the full nostrils, deepening the lines
thence to the sensitive red lips and
drawing the latter too habitually apart
upon set teeth or a sheer. Nor was the
bitterness of the kind sown in proud
hearts by caprlcious circumstance and
crushing but not dishonorable defeat.
It was rather the Dead sea fruit Of
willful riot and a contemplate, impen-
itent remorse. And yet In the full
brown eye and lifted chin, as in the
Ill clad, we'll carried figure, there was
a lingering something that was gallant
and fine and debonair.
To this lost youth the door In Rolls
buildings was opened by q gray haired
woman, who nodded knowingly in re-
Spouse to an inquiry for letters and
handed one over with an invitation to
enter and read it within. But the
kindly words fell on inattentive ears.
Looking fondly and yet fearfully at
the superscription-to Thomas Erich
sen, Esq, and the rest-the needy own
e. Of that name suddenly pocketed his
letter with unbroken seals. He was
turning as abruptly away when the
blank face of his former landlady led
him to pause a moment.
"No, bless you, no! It's not from
him." said Erickson grimly. "This is
from a friend 1 met yesterday, who
would insist on having my address.
What was 1 to do? 1 thought you
wouldn't mind, so 1 gave my last"
Mind! 1t is your address and might
be your 'ome If you wasn't that Ugh
and 'aughty. Dear, dear, dear! So
you've not heard from that villain
yet"
"Not a line" %ae'f-:a. j, =
"Nor Of him?'
"Not a word. Give me time. If
don't root him out by this day month
well, then he's fed the Countrywide a
sensible man."
"But what If you do7" demanded the
landlady, who was herself directly In
terested in the event.
what If 1 do. Mrs. Adcock? Well,
shall probable half murder him, to be-
gin with. He has wholly ruined me.
Yes, 1t will be my money-and your
money-or his life. He knows it, too,
If he's got my letters. Feel the weight
of that"
And he put in her hands a heavy ash
stick, green and sinewy, with the knob
still creamy from the knife.
Lord save us!' cried the woman.
"Is this the rod in pickle for him?"
THAT'S the rod in pickle. Nice and
heavy, isn't itY'
"Too 'eavy, MI. Erickson. Too 'eavy
by 'alf. I'd show no mercy to thieves
and swindlers, but I should be very
careful what I did with that. I
wouldn't take the law into my own
hands II I were you"
"You w%ouldn't?" cried he. mot II
you'd been cleaned out as I have by as
blackguardly a dodge? BY the Lord
that made him, I'd break every bone
In his Internal body and will. too, II I
find him and he won't pay III. I'll pay
him! grant you it was my own
cursed fault in the beginning. But
what about that last EDS? Who got
that? Why I'm I rotting and starving
here? Who threw me on the mercy Of
kind, good folks like youEyes, and
made a sponge Of me in my turn?
Whose doing is 1t that I've got to pawn
the clothes of my back or beg my
meals. to tramp the streets all day, to
lie all night in the 1elds"-
"Your own!" exclaimed the woman,
coming hastily down from the step
upon which she had been standing ali
this time. "It's your own fault, is that,
however. You know we'll It isn't mine.
Our attic has been empty ever since