The Black Hills union and western stock review. [volume] (Rapid City, S.D.) 1904-19??, 1909-12-03
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The Story Of a Crime
Copyright. by Short Stories Co., Ltd.)
By FRANCES KEATON

cry-shriu, appealing-the cry of q
child in terror.
Every man looked into the whitened
face of his neighbor as his hand
sought his hip pocket The little voice
cried within the closed house. One
burly fellow set his shoulder to the
door, and sent 1t in, splintered. All
looked
Before them was the back door,
shattered; in this jagged frame stood
sI:all black boy. He had chung to
the back of buggy on tho way out,
and run to the rear Of the house when
he saw the front door whole. Now
his hands covered his eyes, his pierre
ing voice filled their ears.
On the floor, by the cold hearth. lay
Foster Black. stone dead, marks Of
fingers on his throat. No sign Of
struggle was in the room. He must
have fallen without defense, as Jerry
said, in the vision his knees wouldn't
hole him up
The little black boy was comforted.
and the living men stood silent around
Foster, who lay in the long silence of
death.
Foster was known to have had good
crops. He always hid his money about
the house. Jerry was to be married
and wanted money for house, as, in
deed, the poor, happy fellow had con-
fided to everyone he knew, in turn.
He had arrived in town in pitiable
state some hours after the time he
had said the murder was done. Evil
IDENTIFY he had stayed in the woods to
make story to tell. Evidently he
had been tempted by the money.
Ugly murmurs arose. Passionate,
thick voices muttered the black guilt
around Fosters body lying cold on the
cold hearth.
Someone-it was never known who
said, Lynch hint" Their outraged
blood leaped in consent, but, lacking
leader, they paused in choked
quiet, full of portent.
The little black boy spoke, "He put.
ten on he shoes sence"
How do you know that, Mark"
they asked him with one voice.
He foot-ma'ks in de ya'd. outen
back"
The men pressed out Of the broken
door. On the bare earth, still soft
enough from the previous days rain
to take footprint, were the marks
of the bare feet Jerry had claimed
to hear "padpadding around de house. /"
The youngest physician bent over
them. THAT foot was never Jerry's:
it's too short" he said.
Someone laughed incredulity. But
the sheriff said, "Wimberly has an ole
dog" and started forthwith for the
bloodhound.
The old gaunt-eyed creature was
fetched in a wagon, and held in leash,
led up the path where SO many feet
had trod and in to the sprawled body.
Very carefully he stalked and smiled,
and at the back step he threw up his
head in a long howl. The scent lay
in the half-dry. earth. With his nose
dropped once more to the foot-marks
the dog started.
The older men remained by the
body, the younger men followed.
| lHS Jug WcuL over Lue nlll, through
the peach orchard, down through the
standing fodder corn, and out across
the cotton field to the edge of the
pine woods, where a little shack
stood, as though withdrawing from
the field, ruinous and overgrown with
jack-beans hanging in thick clusters
of purple flowers. There the dog
clamored at the door, furious in his
baflled rage. Four men held him.
The door was opened. Within, on
the floor, for the shack was empty,
grinning at them and driveling lit.
tie at the mouth, sat red-bearded
man, very plainly mad.
The dog without yelled and strug.
gled, trying to reach his quarry; the
man paid no heed, but sat smiling and
picking at the edge of his coat.
When they took him to town, bound
news had already come, by telegraph
Of his escape from confinement in the
southern part of the state
But Jerry was changed. Since he
had experienced a death-bed sending
all the earth and air were full Of spir.
itual life.
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