The San Juan islander. [volume] (Friday Harbor, Wash.) 1898-1914, 1907-10-19
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-N THE GIRL WITH M0-
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N&-By d. c. Murray
: BY d. c. Murray

upon the bell pull, waiting while he might
have counted three. He had scarcely
ever found pause in his speech so long.
He rang twice, one pull followed swiftly
and sharply on the other.
| Coffee for twO-black coffee"
The notable scheme was we'll upon it's
way now, and the spy's pulses beat quick,
and his throat and tongue and lips were
dry, and felt hard, like wood. The cof
fee came, hot and fragrant. Dobroski
drew his cup beside him on the table. 1t
seemed an age before he slipped. The spy
had already put his lips to his own cup,
and could detect nothing strange in the
flavor of the liquid.
At that instant a curious burning pang
shot across the spy's stomach, and sec
ond later feeling of nausea rose within
| him, like that he always experienced even
/ in the smoothest weather when he pass
ed between France and England. Dob
roski shifted uneasily, and took drink at
his coffee
Il can afford to escape the rest" said
the spy to himself. But it shall be
mine to open the ball." He began to walk
up and down the room, and suddenly
threw window open. Dobroski turning
to look at him, saw that he was rubbing
at the bottom of his wastcoat with both
| hands, and that he wore disguised and
| almost indignant look.
What is the matter?" asked the old
man, rising. you are in pain?" He ad-
vanced toward his betrayer; but as he
| took his first step he paused and flushed,
laying an outstretched hand upon his
| breast.
Il am on fire." said Zeno. II am
| sick. l loathe myself"
Il, too," said Dobroski, quietly, "feel
sense of burning and sickness"
1T is the Coffee" cried Zeno. eve
have both taken it. There is something
| unwholesome in the Coffee
| The old man sank back into his chair,
white and trembling. you have drunk
more than l." cried the spy, as if in a
paroxysm of regret and fear. you're
| i'll. All! dear sir, you're i'll. He is ill.
He is dying. All the doctor. There is
| a doctor on the second floor. What
providence :"
He rang the bell, and then rushed to
the door and tore it open.
The doctor ~ he shouted. "The doc
tor on the second floor! Tell him to
come here! Quickly! quickly!'
A door opened below, feet ran rapidly
upstairs. A man presented himself, strug-
Cling into a respectable professional
frock coat as he entered the room.
What is the matter?" he demanded.
MY friend! ~ cried Zeno; "the dear
est. He is dying. And 1 also. We have
taken poison The coffee"
He threw himself upon the couch and
contorted his body, as if he were in
| agony. Dobroski sat white and still, with
both hands trembling on his chest, and
great beads of sweat running from his
forehead. The newcomer tasted the
coffee, and spat it out again, with a wry
face. Dobroski watched him collectedly
and inquiringly:
"Verdigris," said the DOCTOR Another
example of the folly of the copper kettle.
| will put you both right in a moment"
He ran downstairs. and presently return
ed witha tumbler in either hand.
Your antidote. SIR" he said,. in a
business tone to Zeno, and then advanc-
ing to Dobroski set one hand below the
old mans head and with the other held
the draught to his lips. Drink this, sir;
it will soothe you at once"
He went quietly from the room, but
did not trouble himself to descend into
the kitchen. He occupied himself instead
by looking over the contents of a small
black handbag, which held among other
| things five or six blue walls with glass
| shoppers, and a hypodermic syringe in it's
| case. This last he examined with great
! particularly, and for extra safety be-
slowed it in his waistcoat pocket.