Evening star., 1907-06-23

desperate grief.
Involuntarily Hatch struggled to his feet-per-
haps it was spirit of defense. perhaps natural
gaantry. She paused and stood looking at him.
What happened?" he demanded fatty. What
am | doing here?"
The woman's eyes grew suddenly moist, and her
lips trembled. I'm glad it was no worse, she said
hopelessly.
''Who are your" Hatch asked curously.
PLEASE don't ask she pleaded. PLEASE don't
If you able to go, please go while you may"
The reporter wasn't at all certain that he wanted
to go. He was himself again now, confident, alert,
with new strength rushing through his veins, and
naturally inquisitive mind fully aroused. If it
only poke in the jaw he got, it didn't matter much
He had had those before, and besides here some
thing which demanded explanation.
who was the man who struck me last night!,
he asked.
please go!' the woman pleaded. Believe me,
you must l can't explain anythlng-ltS all horrl-
bic and unreal and hideous!" Tears were streaming
down the wan cheeks now, and the hands closed
and Enclosed spasmodically.
Hatch sat down. L am not going yet, he said.
Tell me about it
There IS nothing 1 can tell-nothng!" the
sobbed.
She buried her face in her hands and wept softly.
Then Hatch saw great bruised spot across her
cheek and neck-it might have been the mark of
lash. Whatever particular kind of trouble he was
You must tell me about it, he insisted
Il can't, l can't!" she walled.
tear stained face, she lifted her head to listen.
Hatch listened too. There was the sound of foot
steps outside the door
He'll kin you, he'll kill you'll" whispered the
woman.
Hatch set his lips grimy, motioned her to silence,
and stepped toward the door. A heavy chair stood
there. He weighed it judicially in his hands, and
glanced toward the woman reassuringly. She had
dropped down on the couch and had buried her face
in pillow; her slender form was shaking with sobs.
Hatch raised the chair above his head and closed
his hands it fercely.
There slight rattle as some one turned the
knob of the door. Then it opened and man
tered Hatch stared at the profile with amazed eyes.
by George!" he exclaimed.
Then he brought the chair down with all the
strength of two we'll muscled arms. The sank
to the floor without sound; the woman straight
ened up, screamed once, and fell forward in dead
faint.
1t was about ten o'clock that morning when The
Thinking Machine and Hutchinson Hatch, to-
gether with powerful cabman, dragged
into the warden's office at Chisholm prison.
Here's your man, Philip Gilfoil,' said The
Thinking Machine terSely.
"Gilfoil!' the warden almost shouted. Did he
escape?"
And moment later two guards came into the
warden's office with Convict 81 between them.
There were two Philip Gilfoils, if one might trust
the evidence of of sight; the first with dissi
pated brutally lined face, and the other with the
prison pallor upon him and with deep grief written
indelibly in his eyes.
They are brothers, gentlemen-twin brothers -
explained The Thinking Machine. He turned to the
man in prison garb, the from Cell 9. This is
the Rev. Dr. Phineas Gilfoil pastor of fashionable
little church in a suburb, and" he turned upon the
man whom they had brought there in the cab, this
is Philip Gfoil, forger-this is Convict o."
The warden and prison guards stood stupefed,
gazing from one to the other of the two The
facial lines Identical; physically they had been
cast in the mold
The only real difference between them, except
a radical mental difference, the size of their feet"
The Thinking Machine went on. Philip GilfoH,
the forger the real Convict o. who has been out Of
this prison for five weeks and four days.
number eight and half shoe, according to your
own records, Mr. Warden; the Rev. Phineas Gil
foil, who has been in his brothers place Cell g. for
five weeks and four days, wears number seven