Camas Prairie chronicle. [volume] (Cottonwood, Idaho) 1901-1917, 1908-06-05
CHAPTER XVI.

CHAPTER XVI.
More than a week had elapsed since
the departGre of NJ. Cassagne during
which time his assistant in Paris, Charles
D'Auburon, had received no word of him.
One morning, however, he got laconic
message over the wire: Rue de Prov
ence, 2 p. IN. Tuesday" by which he
rightly surnised that his chief would
meet him at his lodgings at the hour
named Almost on the stroke of the
clock, D'Auburon heard the detective
climbing the stairs leading to his apart
ments.
HE is pretty tired" cogitated the
young Frenchman. "He comes slowly"
He was right Alfred Cassagne had no
sooner entered the room than he flung
himself heavily into chair. His face
wore an expression of anxiety. His dress
was disorlered. He seemed dreadfully
fatigued and dspirited D'Auburon
FASTENED to relieve him of his hat and
light overcoat, and to take the hot wig
from his head.
you look worn out, old fellow" he
exclaimed. Pull off your boots and
coat, and make yourself comfortable"
Thus invited, Alfred Cassagne Invested
himself of these articles of apparel, re-
marking as he pulled off his boots;
II haven't had these off for the last
forty-eight hours-and they were too
tight for me anyhow"
Anything gone wrongT
ITO be brief, all our work of the past
two weeks has to be done over again"
"What?" exclaimed D'Auburon. DO
you mean to say we are on the wrong
track?"
NJ. Cassagne. at is a peculiar story.
soon settled the question as to where
Graham was"
you have found him. then? and it is
not he who committed the crime? All,
that Is bad. Our theory at once falls to
the ground"
mot so fast. Don't anticipate me.
However, may tell you that Henry Ora
ham had no more to do with the murder
of Madame Roupell than you or l had"
1T is very extraordinary"
mot extraordinary at all. But let me
begin at the beginning. left Paris hay
ing in my possession certain facts upon
which | knew | could thoroughly rely
One of them was that Graham had gone
to Belliers, taking his little son with
him; another that he had been in CORE
spondence with woman there whose first
name was Helene, and whom | firmly be-
lieved to be the mother of the child"
"Yes, recollect all that; go on, pray;
what next?"
A 81
possible inquiry as to whether such per
sons as Graham and his son were known
or had ever been known there. This
search occupied the greater portion of my
time l was about to despair when |
stumbled across an old priest who told me
that he had known the man was in
search of.
"'Are you a friend of hlsP asked the
priest. 4 am | replied. Then YOU
will be shocked when you hear what hap
pened to him. Come with me, and will
tell you his story l followed the priest
expecting to hear that he was the inmate
of some charitable institution, or having
lost his reason was confined in some pri-
vate asylum. He led the way to his
church, and there in the little burying
6A0uAu hC POlhlCu Oul u BidNcs at It's
head was a stone on which l read:
"'HENRY GRAHAM,
Aged SO years."
what r. exclaimed D'Auburon, aston
ished beyond measure. WAS it our Hen
ry Graham2 1t can't be possible p
There is not the slightest doubt about
1t. When saw that tombstone, you can
imagine how / felt after all the time
and trouble l had given this case. 1t
was as If the bottom had dropped out of
everything. The priest saw, no doubt,
that was strangely affected. He attrib-
uted my agitation to grief.
"'Tell me something about my poor
old friend said. Il have heard that
he was in very bad circumstances. Did
he die poorT
"'Very,' replied the priest. But he
was cared for by mother church. That
stone was erected by his son. Ali he
was a sad scamp a willful fellow, who
gave his poor father no end of trouble.
But that was the old mans fault, partly.
with him. He lived up on the hill, him
self, for years, in very good style-he
had money from somewhere, though
ion't know where he got it. But the
child, he didn't seem to be bothered about
him.
Didn't the child live with himP
that l cared to know, but
| wanted to keep the old man talking.
| thought he might possibly drop some
hing worth having.
mo he went on-he was a garrulous
bid fellow. No, he didn't seem to care
10 have the child with him. Until he
was quite a big boy he remained in the
,are of young couple in the village. The
woman, think, grew to be quite fond
IF him. But he was an unruly little ras-
,al'"
'All this Is very serious. The reJult
Is that we are no further than when we
started. What do you propose to do
now7 You're not going to give it up,
are your
"Give It upI l wonder at your asking
such a question. Certainly shall not
give it up"
Now tell me-" said the younger man,
what you propose doing2 1 am impa-
tient to know"
NJ. Cassagne did not Immediately reply.
He closed his eyes like one who thinks
deeply. At last he said
Il have mapped out plan of action.
And we must either carry 1t out on that
linz. or abandon 1t altogether. We have