Courier Democrat. (Langdon, N.D.) 1891-1920, 1908-01-23

nv u n
ing one day wnen they were both
mere lads, he shot a dog dead in his
passion. The brother abused him. In
an instant he also was shot through
the heart. 1t was brought in an acct
dent, but the family knew what it
was. They drummed him out. They
refused to see his face again. He
was as much transported as any felon
in New South Wales, with as good q
cause. We never knew why his fam
lily would have nothing to do with him.
Why, for instance, the very flowers he
laid upon his mothers grave were
summarily returned to him. 1t SEEM
ed inhuman, but 1 think it was very
human now. God help me, 1 thought
it was only the ordinary wild oats
made too much of. But I was at fault,
grievously at fault. Bitterly I regret
1t. Bitterly I shall rue it till my dying
day"
Nicholas Harding was deeply moved.
He was indeed Il different a In a
| hoarse voice he described the horrors
Of the interminable outward voyage,
the perpetual dread of being too late,
the nightly nightmare Of Claire mar
ried to a criminal lunatic if not dead
already by his hand.
"Crime and Madness said lie, "are
IN their blood. l found that out too.
The mother was a saint, but / discov-
cred she had died in an asylum. The
father is sane, but you know his repu-
tation, He had denied me an inter
view before. 1 forced myself upon
him now. And he admitted the perfect
truth Of the story l had heard. You
ask how that woman came to know of
it. Well, so did l. AS l told you, she
had sunk as low as possible. 1t seems
she made a practice of asking her com
panions whether they knew aught Of
the Daintrees, because she suspected
u guest of some shameful secret, but
never of killing Blaydes, and she had
always the thought of repaying Claire
the good turn of which Claire must tell
you. Well, at last-call it chance OF
fate or what you will-but at last she
hit upon q trail that led to the truth.
She discovered an old gamekeeper who
had actually seen the deed and been
pensioned to keep it secret, but blabbed
it in his dotage. And then she came to
Avenue Lodge"
Once his tongue was loosed and it
was seen that the subject excited the
convalescent much less than had been
feared, Mr.. Harding would speak Of it
with apparent freedom. Yet the case
had aspects which he %sedulously shun-
ned. And toward the end of the voy-
age he became visibly troubled and
depressed, but at last one chilly north
ern night, when the western islands
had beer left astern, he took Tom by
the ARM, and his hand trembled.
'Erichsen,' said he, Il was once
your enemy. l am now your friend
In the near future l am to be some.
thing more, and l cannot face it a
humbug and a hypocrite. You remem.
Der those letters you gave me back
without a question? l have waited fol
that question all these months. That
you have never asked it that alone
shows what you are. 1t makes it the
harder to have to tell you the kind OF
man l was. But l have made up my
mind that you shall know
And he confessed that he had beer
guilty enough of the bribery all bu
brought home to him and yet not nor
guilty than a hundred others. many o.
them in higher places, as he said will
perfect truth, but little bitterness. The
voyage out had purged him OF self es
TEEN and arrogance; the homewar(
voyage was rearing better qualities il
their place.
Eyes, it was a true bfl1Y he sighed
TRUE also that my money had silenc
ed the witness who refused to speak
true that l have made it worth hi
while to go to prison. But letters l1at
passed between us. Blaydes got holt
of them. He was Oh his way to N.
with those letters in his pocket-to sci
them to me for a fancy price-when b.
met his death. Do you recollect thu
first lawyer who came to see you abou
the defenseY
Tom started, but said he did remem
Der.
Gle came from me. And he no
only assumed your guilt-as I fear w,
had all assumed it-but he wanted t,
know where you had put what you hat
taken out of the dead mans pockets
You were only to tell him that to Sc
cure the best defense money could OBJ
tain. Instead Of telling him you threw
him out Of your cell. You We're quit,
right. 1 was well served. After tw,
years, Erickson, I tell you that 1 an
sorry-sorry!"
Tom implored him to say no more
There was more, however, that mus
be said.
Before your trial." continued Hard
ing, II was almost mad with anxiety
Every hour I expected those letters t,
be found. Daintree knew we'll enough
what was the matter. The letters wer'
in his own possession, but he obtained
my confidence, wormed it out of m,
n night, and from that hour m!
soul was not my own. He began b.
dragging me to your trial'--