The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1907-05-22

the rich mans voice, anu Ine Juliet
took I'D the strain mockingly, LET
you off? Oh, yes, I'll let you off
when I'm done with you. Pay up or
take the consequences"
SIS your mind quite made up?"
Mr.. Harrison seemed to be walking
| about the room as he said this.
quite, you thief, you miserable
robber! Pay me $4,000 OF I'll tell
the whole neighborhood that you are
the man who robbed the Carberton
bank thirty years ago."
Then tell them now!" rang out
in the millionaire's deepest tones as
he dashed the curtains back, reveal
ing "all the neighborhood" in. various
attitudes of establishment.
The blackmailer stood holding to
the back of his chair, the picture of
bewildered rage.
"It's just this!" painted the black
mailer. Hes a thief! He left Car
berton thirty years ago."
|"Quite true" said Mr.. Harrison
SuOOIuly, ldhlA6 w IhS
Carberton thirty years ago-ran
away in fact. At the same $500 OF
the bank money disappeared. l did
not know it at the time, I heard OF
it more than a year afterward. The
fellow clerk who was the thief knew
himself to be dying of consumption,
and he wrote to me and confessed
what he had done and how he a
always allowed me to be blamed Tor
the theft. The money had been
gambled away almost at once. He
told me to show the letter, if I must,
after he was dead, but begged me, if
I could, to be generous for the sake
of the young wife he was leaving. I
destroyed the letter and simply adopt
ed the name of Harrison. I had run
away simply because I was tired OF
my life in the bank and longed for
wider fields. This is my story. l
can only ask you to believe it; I can
not prove it."
But T CAM" said a voice from
the background.
All turned in establishment. 1t was
Mrs. Cartwright. Deadly pale, and
trembling very much, she stood fac
ing them all. "The thief" she said
slowly, "was my first husband, James
Trevor!!"
Mrs. Trevor! Is it possible? And
I did not recognize you!"
Il did not recognize you, Robert,
you have changed so much, or I
should not have kept the secret as l
have done. 1t has weighed on my
mind all these years; but you had
disappeared, and I thought it could
not matter. Before James died he
wrote out a full confession and signed
it before witnesses. If ever Robert
is in trouble for want of it you can
produce it then he told me. I have
kept it ever since. Forgive me
l." y
Every one began shaking hands at
this point, except, to the general sur
prise, Sir John Brandon. He stood
immovable all this time, with his eyes
fixed on the features of Robert Harri-
son, and an unreliable, somewhat
puzzled expression on his own face.
Albert Gregson, still holding 70 the
back of a chair, had been almost for
gotten, but he had n more card
left.
"Sir John" he cried in a high,
sharp voice. Sir John Brandon!.
You don't know who this man is
whose daughter your son is going to
marry. You don't know, l say!
Why, you knew him we'll as a boy
he's just Bob Wilde, the son of your
fathers keeper"
The rich man turned and faced
"the p%roudest man in the country"
with a smile that lit up his plain,
strong face.
Master john" he said softly.
"Old Bob" shouted Sir John, dash
ing at him and overturning two
chairs. 1T is! Ills! My dear, dear
old Bob!"-he was shaking both
hands at once now-"to think I never
knew you all this time! Oh, Bob!
How often I've wondered about you!
The times we had when we were
boys!-and you never told your old
est friend! Here, where's that black
mailing scoundrel Gregson? I'm a
magistrate. I'll deal with him!"
why, he's gone!" said a chorus of
voices.
And he had, never to be heard of
again!-London Answers.