Daily Arizona silver belt., 1908-11-12
CHAPTER xxvIII-(continued)

where the names of Stires and Moreau had been known. Perhaps every one at Aniston already knew of 1t, was reading about it. plying her. She pick cd 1t up and scanned 1t hastily. There was no hint of the trial. but her eye caught the news which had played its role in the courtroom. and she read it to the epd
 Even fin her own trouble she read 1t with q shiver. Yet. awful as the fate which Harry Sanderson had so mar rOwly missed, 1t was not to be com pared with that which awaited Hugh, for, awful as it was. it held no shame.
 In gust of feeling she slipped to her knees by the one sofa the room contained and prayed passionately. As she drew out her handkerchief to stanch the tears that came something fell with 6 musical tinkle at her feet. It was the little cross she had found in front of the hillside cabin that had lain forgotten in her pocket during the past anxious days. As she pressed 1t the ring at the top gave way, and the cross parted in halves. Words were engraved on the Inside of the arms-a date and the name Henry Sanderson.
 The recurrence of the name jared and surprised her. Hugh had dropped it-an old keepsake of the friend who had been his beau ideal, his exemplar and whose ancient influence was still dominant He had clung Loyalty to the memento, blind in bis constant liking. to the wrong that friend had done him. She looked at the date. It was May 2S She shuddered. for that was the month and day on which pr. Moreau had been killed. The point had been clearly established today by the prose cntion. To the original owner of that Into Hugh's life with such a sinister meaning was a glad anniversary.
 Suddenly she caught her hand to her cheek A W idea had rushed through her brain. The religious sym- Gvi uad stood for Harry Sanderson, ana the chance coincidence of date had irresiStibly pointed to the murder. To her excited senses the juxtaposl- ton held a bizarre, uncanny sugges- ton This cross. the very emblem of vicarious sacrificed! Suppose Harry Sanderson had never given 1t to Hugh! Suppose he had lost it on the hillside himself!
 She snatched up the paper again. ''Who has been for some months on prolonged yacation"-the phrase stared sardonically at her. That might carry far back-she said it under her breath. fearfully-beyond the murder of Dr. Moreau. Her face burned. and her breath came sharp and fast. Why when she brought her warning to the cabin had Hugh been so anxious to get her away unless to prevent her sight of the man who was there, to whom he had taken her horse? Who was there in Smoky Mountain whom he would protect at hazard of his own life? Jessica's veins were all afire. A rec tor murderer? A double careerf Was 1t beyond possibility? It came to her like an impinging ray of light, the old curious likeness that had sometimes been made a jest of at the white house in the aspens Moreau and Prem ! dergast had believed 1t to be Hugh. | So had the town. for the body had been found on his ground. But on the night when the real murderer came | again to the cabin perhaps it was his corning that had brought back the lost | memory. Hugh had known the truth. Tn the light of this supposition, his | strained manner then. his present de termination not to speak, all stood I plain.
 | What had he meant by debt of his past that he had never paid? He could owe no debt to Harry SaDderson. If ! he owed any debt 1t was to his dead | father. thousand times more than the
 draft he had repaid. Could The be | thinking in his remorse that his father
 had cast him off. counting himself
 nothing, remembering only that Harry l Sanderson had been David Stires' fa- vorite and St. James. which must be | smirched by the odium of its rector | the apple of his eye?
 1 Jessica had snatched at straw, be- cause it was the only buoyant thing afioat in the draggiI z tide. Now with
 a blind fatuousness she hugged 1t l tighter to her bosom. One purpose possessed her-to confront Harry San dcrson. What matter though she
 missed the remainder of the trlali
 She could do nothing. Her hands were
 tied If the truth lay at Aniston she
 would find it. She thought no farther
 than this. Once in Harry Sanderson's presence, what she should say or dc
 she scarcely imagined. The horrify.
 ing question filled her thought to the
 exclusion of all that must follow its
 answer It was surety and self con
 viction she craved, only to read in his
 eyes the truth about the murder of
 Moreau.
 She suddenly began to tremble Would the doctors let her see him ,l ,1o hr