The Richmond palladium and sun-telegram. [volume] (Richmond, Ind.) 1907-1939, 1908-08-10
By
Uo~0 ohio George Barr
a OAAA~ ~/&S14~ McCutcheon
Author Beverly
BY Mead Ga
George Barr
mcCutCheon
Author of Beverly
of Graustark." Etc.

ing and white With logged Intention in
theater foyer. bent upon establishing
an alibi, his movements are scarcely
worth the details. Between the acts he
saw a dozen men whom he knew and
His tremendous will power carried him
through the ordeal in way that could
not have fallen to the good fortunes of
the ordinary lawbreaker.
Every second of the time his
thoughts were of the thing which was
being buffeted by the icy waters of the
lake. Where was that thing now?
How far out into the lake had 1t been
carried?
His body was covered with the cold
perspiration of dread and horror. His
soul was moaning; his whole being
was aghast with the awfulness OF the
deed; he could have shrieked aloud in
his madness. How he lived through
the hour in that theater he never could
have told, nor could he believe that he
was sitting there with all those fright
full thoughts piling themselves upon
him. Other people laughed and shout
ed with happiness; he stared and wept
in his heart and shivered and cringed
and groaned within himself
He had killed her! She had been true
to him, and yet he had taken her life,
the life she had given him! He gave
no thought to Jane. no thought to
Bansemer. He thought only of him
self as the slayer.
Would her body be recovered? What
would be his excuse, what his punish
ment? The gallows? A thousand hor-
rors ran riot in his brain, a thousand
tremors with each.
But why dwell upon the feelings Of
this miserable wretch? Why say more
Of his terror. his misery, his remorse ?
He held himself in the seat until the
middle Of the last act Of the play. At
last, unable to restrain himself longer
he arose and almost ran from the thea
ter. That instinct which no slayer can
control or explain was overpowering
him. 1t was the instinct which at
tracts the murderer to the spot where
his crime was committed. No man
can describe or define this resistless
impulse, and yet all criminology re-
| cords 1T, clear and unmistakable. 1t is
no less than form Of curiosity. Driv-
en- by this irresistible force. David Ca
bic, with bravado that cost him dearly,
worked his uninterrupted way to the
scene of his crime. By trolley car to
Chicago avenue and then, like a home
less dog seeming his way fearfully, to
q corner not far from the break in the
wall.
His legs trembled and his eyes grew
wide with dread. The swish Of the
water came to his ears, and he stood
stfn for many minutes, listening for a
cry for help from off the shore. But
none came, and again skulking along
side the houses of his friends, he GOV
/ cred the blocks that lay between him
and the magnetic rift in the wall. Neal
the corner he stopped, with a start OF
/ alarm.
The figure of a man could be seer
standing like a statue on the very
spot where he had seen her disappear
While he stood there, his heart scarce
ly beating, the solitary figure wa:
Joined by two others. Cable shranl
back into the dense shadows. Like {
fash it occurred to him that they wer'
|
agony arose to his lips. But he check
ed 1t.
Far of on one of the crosstowI
streets q newsboy was calling an ex
tra-hoarse, unintelligible shouts tina
froZe his blood. He bent his ear t
catch the faraway words of the boy
"All about de nor side murder!' H
cringed and shook under the raucou
shout He knew what it meant.
A policeman suddenly turned tn
corner and came toward him. Th
first impulse was to fly; the next wa
to stand and deliver himself. The reso
luton came with shocking unexpected
ness. He would give himself up! III
would admit that he had killed hi
wife! The words of anguish were o.
his lips when the policeman spoke.
"Is it you, Mr.. Gable? How is she
sir?
:, Cable did not hear the man, for, a
he opened his lips to cry out his ow
guilt, a thought formed In his brai
that almost staggered him with it
cunning savagery. Why not let tn
penalty fall on James Bansemer? Sh
naQ gone out 10 meet uln! IL sue I'D
not destroyed the note it would han
James Bansemer, and James Banseme
was worse than a murderer. But eve
as this remarkable thought rushed int
his brain the last words Of the Office
began to drive it out.
as she going to pull through, sir ?
was the next question, and he caugt
1t vaguely.
Pull through ?" he murmured inarticu
lately. He leaned against a grea
} stone rail suddenly. Everything wa
leaping before his eyes.
Good Lord, Mr.. Cable-I-I forgo
Don't you know about it," gasped th
. officer
Know whatT' asked Gable, con
pletely dazed.
go home at once, sir. / didn't mea
to-oh, hurry. sir. Don't be worried
They say she'll be all right. SURE
She's been hurt little, sir"
MY daughter" demanded Gable, q
keen as a razor in an instant. III
heart was trying to jump from b
body.
Your wife, sir. Nothin' serious, ST
She was held up along here SOM
where and robbed. They're sure
{ get the villain She