Waterbury evening Democrat., 1907-01-28

executor of his estate? He knew tha l detested him, that Pickerings nobl, aims and high ambitions had beer praised by my family until his yer, name sickened me; and yet my owr grandfather had thought it wise to in trust his fortune and my future to ths man of all men who was most repug nant to me. I rose and paced the flool in anger.
 My rage must fasten upon some one and Bates was the nearest target fol it. went to the kitchen, where he usually spent his evenings, to vent my feelings upon him, only to find him gone. climbed to his room and found 1t empty. Very likely he was oil con dollng with his friend and fellow con spirator, the caretaker. and I fumed with rage and disappointment. I was thoroughly tired,-as tired as on days when had beaten my way through tropical jungles without food or water; but I wished, in my impotent anger against l knew not what agencies, to punish myself.-to induce an utter weariness that would send me ex. hausted to bed.
 The snow in the highway was we'll beaten down and I swung off country ward past St. Agatha's. A gray mist hung over the fields in whirling clouds, breaking away occasionally and show ing the throbbing winter stars. The walk and my interest in the alterna- ton of star-lighted and mist-wrapped landscape won me to g better state of mind, and after tramping a couple of miles. set out for home. Several times on my tramp I had caught my self whistling the air of a majestic old hymn. and smiled, remembering my young friend Olivia, and her play Ing in the chapel. She was an anus ing child; the thought of her further lifted my spirit; and turned into the school park when I reached the outer gate with half-recognized wish to pass near the barracks where she spent her days.
 At the school gate the lamps of . carriage suddenly blurred in the mist. Carriages are not common in this re zion, and was not surprised to find that this was the familiar village hack that met trains day and night at An nandale. Some parent, conjectured, paying visit to St Agatha's; possi- bly-and the thought gave me pleas ure-perhaps the father of Miss Olivia Gladys Armstrong had come to carry her home for a stricter discipline than Sister Theresa's school afforded.
 The driver sat asleep on his box, and passed him and went on into the grounds. A whim seized me to visit the crypt of the chapel and ex. anime the opening to the tunnel. As I passed the little group of school buildings a ntan came hurriedly from one of them and turned toward the chapel .....
 I first thought 1t was Stoddard, but I could not make him out in the mist and in my uncertainty waited for him to put 20 paces between us before I followed.
 He strode into the chapel porch with an air of assurance and 1 heard him address some one who had been waiting. The mist vas now so heavy that I could not see my hand before my face, and I stole forward until heard the voices of two men distisctly.
 'Bates!"
 "Yes, sir"
 heard feet scraping on the stone floor of the porch.
 This is a devil of a place to talk in. but it's the best we can do. Did the young man know l sent for your"
 "No. sir. kept him quite busy with his books and papers,"
 "Humph! We can never be sure of him."
 'T suppose that is correct, sir"
 Well, you and Morgan are a fine pair, I must say! I thought he had some sense and that you'd see to it that he didn't make a mess of this whole thing. He's in bed now with a hole in his arm and you've got to go on alone"
 'I'll do my best, Mir. Pickering"
 Don't call me by name, you idiot. We're not advertising our business from the housetops."
 Certainly not" replied Bates hum- bl.y.
 The blood was roaring through my head. and my hands clenched as I stood there listening to this colloquy.
 Pickering's voice was-and is-un- mistakable. There was always purr. ing softness in it. He used to remind me at school of a sleek. cemplacent cat, and I hate cats with particular loathing.
 ''Is Morgan lying or not when he says he shot himself accidentally" demanded Pickering petulantly.
 "I only know what I heard from the gardener here at the school. You'll understand, I hope, that can't be seen going to Morgan's house"
 "Of course not. But he says you haven't played fair with him. that you even attacked him a few days after Glenarm came"
 Yes. and he hit me over the head with a club. It was his indiscretion. sir. He wanted to go through the H. brary in broad daylight. and it wasn't any use. anyhow. There's nothing there"
 But I don't like the looks of this shooting. Morgan's sick and out of his head. But a fellow like Morgan Isn't likely to shoot himself accident .tt-- .,d ,,,r .h,. s..~ ao,o .b. -ro-l..