Perrysburg journal. (Perrysburg, Wood Co., O. [Ohio]) 186?-1965, 1908-12-11

his wife.
He waited about 20 minutes, and
then he heard key turn in the door
below and his wife's footsteps slowly
mounting the stairs. BY the time she
reached the drawing-room his tableau
was complete, and she fell back with
faint shrek at the frenzied figure
which met her eyes.
Hush" said the tragedian, putting
his finger to his lips.
Henry, what is it?" cried Mrs. Cox.
What is the matter?"
THE brokers' man." said her hus-
band, in thrilling whisper. 1--WE had
words-he struck me. In fit of fury
I-I-choked him"
"Much?" inquired the bewildered
woman.
"Much?" repeated Mr.. Cox, frantical-
ly. 'Ive killed him and hidden the
body. Now l must escape and fly the
country"
The bewilderment on Mrs. Cox's
face increased; she was trying to
reconcile her husbands statement
with vision of trim little figure
which she had seen ten minutes before
with its head tilted backwards study
ing the sign-post, and which she was
now quite certain was Mr.. Piper.
Il haven't got anything" assever-
ated Mrs. Cox. TITS no good looking
like that, Henry, can't make money"
Mr.. Cox's reply was interrupted by
loud knock at the hall door, which
he was pleased to associate with the
police. 1t gave him fine opportunity
for melodrama, in the midst of which
his wife, rightly guessing that Mrs.
Berry had returned according to ar
rangement, went to the door to admit
her.
She followed her friend into the
drawingroom, and having shaken
hands with Mr.. Cox, drew her hand
kerchief from her pocket and applied
it to her eyes.
"She's told me all about It," she
said, nodding at Mrs. Cox, "and it's
worse than you think, much worse.
1t isn't brokers' man-it's my poor
uncle, Joseph Piper"
Your uncle!" repeated Mr.. Cox,
reeling back; "the brokers' man your
uncle?"
See what your joking has led to-"
Cox said, at last. II have got to be
a wanderer over the face of the earth,
all on account of your jokes"
You get away" said Mrs. Berry,
with warning glance at her friend,
and nodding to emphasize her words;
leave us some address to write to,
and we must try and scrape s20 or
G30 to send you"
"Thirty?" said Mr.. Cox, hardly able
to believe his ears.
Where are we to send the money!"
Mr.. Cox affected to consider.
"The White Horse, Newstead," he
said at length, in whisper; better
write 1t down."
For the first two days Messrs. Cox
and Piper waited with exemplary pa
| tience for the remittance, the demands
| of the landlord, man of coarse fiber,
being met in the meantime by the lat
ter gentleman from his own slender
resources. They were both reasonable
men, and knew from experience the
difficulty of raising money at short
notice; but on the fourth day, their
funds being nearly exhausted an urgent
telegram was dispatched to Mrs. Cox.
"Eh?" said Mr.. Piper, in amaze, as
he read the reply slow No-need
Observation-Disclosures - has
me-back.-Berry.' What does it
mean? Is she mad?"
Finally Mr.. Cox, seized with bright
idea that the telegram had got altered
in transmission, went off to the post
office and dispatched another, which
went straight to the heart of things:
-understand-is - Uncle
Joseph-alive?"
The reply was: "Yes-smoking-in
-drawing-room."
"I'll go home and ask to see you,"
Cox said, fiercely; "thatll bring things
to head, should think"
"And she'll say I've gone back to
London. perhaps" said Mr.. Piper,
gifted with sudden clearness of vision.
you can't show her up unless you
take me with you, and that'll show us
up. That's her artfulness; that's
| Susan all over"
reply came the following evening
! from Mrs. Berry herself. 1t was a
long letter, and not only long, but bad
ly written and crossed. 1t began with
| the weather, asked after Mr.. Cox's
health, and referred to the writer's;
described with much minuteness a
| strange headache which had attacked
Mrs. Cox, together with a long list
| of the remedies prescribed and the
effects of each, and wound up in an
| out-of-the-way corner, in vein Of
! cherry optimism which reduced both
readers to the verge of madness.
Dear Uncle Joseph has quite recov-
] cred, and, in spite of little nervous
ness-he was always rather timid-at
meeting you again, has consented to
20 to the White Horse to satisfy you
| that he is alive. / dare say he will be