Lincoln County leader. [volume] (Toledo, Lincoln County, Or.) 1893-1987, 1908-02-14

admission to the floor, he had recourse to
he gallery. 1t was nearly empty. An
old lady and young couple from the
country, evidently on their honeymoon
"trip, were its sole occupants. He sat in
the gallery for upward of an hour, his
gaze constantly ON the floor of the ex-
change, where the vicomte, the broker
ever at his elbow, moved restlessly from
group to group, manipulating his deals.
When Herr Goldstein left the Bourse
twenty minutes later unaccompanied by
his companions, the small man tapped him
| on the elbow. The broker started vio-
lently; the creases in his face grew
stronger perceptible flush overspread
his features,
"Galliardr' he gasped. "I'm glad to
see you!"
"As good hand at lie as ever, amt
you, Kaufman?" sneered the small man.
Hush, don't breathe that name here"
whispered the broker, looking around him
nervously. That belongs to the past.
Come with me. Come to my Office, where
we can be alone. How long have you
been in PARISH
About six months
During which time"
During which time have been work
ing-for whom do you Think"
"I don't know. You have got into
business, perhaps for yourself-or you
would, if you had sufficient capital. If a
good friend-if l, for instance, showed
you how you could make some money 1t
would suit you, would it notW
mo, l have pretty good berth, thank
YOU"
ut is a perfect gold mine for you !;
II you will only hold your tongue"
The small man only smiled significantly.
The two walked on side by side until
the brokers' Office was reached.
"Come in," said the broker, in coar
ing voice, "and tell me what you want"
The small man passed in through the
open door and went into the brokers
Office.
See that under no circumstances am
disturbed" was the instruction Herr Max
gave to his clerk. 81 have important
business with this gentleman"
Four o'clock came, and Herr Gold
stein came out and sent the clerk home.
1t was an hour earlier than usual, but
the clerk was glad to get away. He lived
in a small fiat and had a wife and four
children to support. He could take his
time now and walk home instead Of pay
ing for a seat in an omnibus. The hours
went by. 1t was past midnight when the
two men came out of the inner Office and
into the street.
II live on the other side. Student
quarters" said Goldstein. Come with
me, III put you up for the night. We
must cross by the Pont Neuf."
You must make it fifty thousand"
said the small man, as they went along.
That's cheap enough. Old friends
shouldn't be hard on each other"
A fearful expression came over the
others face as they neared the bridge.
Fifty thousand francs. An enormous
sum. And if he paid it-what then
He had but this fellows word that he
would keep silence.
They stopped for a moment in the
center of the bridge and sat down un-
steadily on one of the embrazures. 1t
was two o'clock. The lights flashed
along the river. Behind and in front Of
them arose the dull roar of Paris which
ceases not by night nor by day. Looking
| over the low parapet they could see the
dark waters of the river as they swirled
| below.
"You will make it fifty thousand, will
you notT urged the small man.
He uttered no cry as the hand of th>
| broker closed upon his throat with an
iron grasp; but for a moment or two
he struggled desperately as he realized
the others purpose But the broker
seemed to have become suddenly sober.
The small man was like a child in his
terrible clutches. He raised him to the
top of the low parapet mad whispered
hoarsely:,
II will send you where you won't neeo
the money"
Then he flung the blackmailer from him
with the force of a catapult. The waters
received the detective and closed over
his head He had not time to utter q
cry.
The broker passed quickly from the
bridge and, plunging into narrow street
which diverged from the main thorough
rare, soon gained his apartments. Arriv-
ed there, he threw himself, dressed as he
was, upon the sofa, and slept soundly till
daylight.
Three days passed; some workmen on a
brick barge drew from the black and
Shiny river the body Of a man which
bore upon its throat the marks of fingers
At the morgue Victor Lablanche, the
prefect of police, recognized in the mur.
dered man the detective he had put on
the track of NJ. Chabot.
Poor fellow" !" he exclaimed, as he ex.
amined the finger marks at his throat,
"A tiger must have seized him. He was
first strangled and then thrown into the
river"
And the sole clue he had was this
The murderer must have had enormous
hands.