Waterbury evening Democrat., 1907-03-01
CHAPTER XVI.

J" her elbows upon the upper
 most crossbar, like village girl at twilight, watching his thin, fig ure vanish mo the heavy shadow of the naples, then emerge momentarily ghost gray and rapid at the lighted crossing down the street, to disappear again under the trees beyond, followed a second later by brownish streak as the mongrel heeled after him.. When they had passed the second corner she could no longer be certain of them, al though the street was straight, with flat, draftsmanlike western directness, both figures and Joe's quick footsteps merging with the night. Still she did not turn to go, did not alter her posi- tion nor cease to gaze down the dim street. Few lights shone, almost all the windows of the houses were dark ened, and save for the summer mur- murs, the faint creak of upper branch es and the infinitesimal voices of in- sects in the grass there was silence the pleasant and somnolent hush, swathed in which that part of Canaan crosses to the far side of the eleventh hour
 But Ariel, not soothed by this balm, sought beyond it to see that unquiet Canaan whither her old friend bent his steps and found his labor and his dwelling-that other Canaan where peace did not fall comfortably with the coming of night; place as alien in habit, in thought and almost in speech as if it had been upon another continent. And yet-so strange is the duality of towns-it lay but few blocks distant.
 Here about Ariel as she stood at the gate of the Pike mansion the houses of the good Secure of salvation and daily bread) were closed and quiet, as safely shut and sound asleep as the churches. But deeper in the town there was light and life and merry, evil industry. screened. but strong to last until morning. There were haunts of haggard merrlment in plenty; sur reptitious chambers where roulette wheels swan beneath dizzied eyes; i'll favored bars. reached by devious ways, where quavering voices offered song md were harshly checked. And through the burdened air of this Canaan wan dered heavy smells of musk like that upon Happy Fears wife. who must now be so pale beneath her rouge. And above all this and for all this and be- cause of all this was that one resort to which Joe now made his way-that haven whose lights burn all night long, whose doors are never closed, but are open from dawn until dawn-the jail. There in that desolate refuge lay Happy Fear. surrendered sturdily by himself at Joe's word. The picture of the little man was clear and fresh in Arlels eyes, and, though she had seen him when he was newly come from a thing so terrible that she could not re- aize it as fact, she felt only an over whe!ming pity for him. She was not even horror stricken, though she had shuddered. The pathos of tho shabby little figure crossing the street toward l the lighted doors had touched her. Something about him had appealed to her. for he had not seemed wicked. His face was not cruel, though it was des- perate. Perhaps 1t was partly his very desperation which had moved her. She | had understood Joe when he told her that this man was his friend and com prehended his great fear when he said: i've got to clear him. I promised him.
 Over and over Joe had reiterated: i've got to save him. I've got to. She had answered gently. "Yes. Joe" hurrying to keep up with him. Hes good man." he said. i've known few better. given his chances. And none of this would have happened ex- cept for his old time friendship for me. It was his loyalty-oh. the rarest and absurdest loyalty.-that made the first trouble between him and the man he shot. I've got to clear him."
 twill it be hardT'
 They may make it so. I can only see part of it surely. When his wife left the office she met Cory on the street. You saw what pitiful kind of fool she was. irresponsible and help less and feather brained. There are thousands of women like that every | where-some of them are court beau &;o. 1a-o sar-aud thar aIuars mir things up. hut they are most danger ous when they're like Claudine. be cause then they live among men of action like Cory and Fear. Cory was artful. He spent the day about town telling people that he had always lik- cd Happy: that his III feeling of yes terday was all gone. He wanted to find him and shake his hand. bury past | troubles and be friends. I think he told Claudine the same thing when they met and convinced the tiny brain | let of his sincerity. Cory was a man | who had a way with him. and I can see CIauiine fattered at the idea of being pescemaker between two such nice gentlemen as Mir. Cory and Mfr. | Fear Her conmonest asseveration- | quite genuine. t0o-is that she doesn't like to have the gen'lemen making trouble about her. So the poor i'm was waiting. All that Happy knew of this was in her cry aftervari. He was sitting alone. when Cory threw