The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1909-03-04

81 Know Already Know ALL"
speaking about Winthrope - under
stand me? Winthrope He has
been badly hurt"
The door swung down and struck
him. when he was creeping in"
Cod" roared Blake. II picked
him up like a sick baby-the BEAST
stead of grinding my heel in his face!
God, III"
Tom! dont-don't even speak of
it! Toni"
God! When a helpless girl-when
"a" He choked, beside himself with
rage.
She sprang to him. and caught his
sleeve in a conclusive grasp. Hush,
for mercy's sake. Tom Blake, remem-
ber-youre a mani"
He Gained like a ferocious dog at
the voice of its master; but it was sew
eral minutes before he could bring
himself to obey her insistent urging
that he should return to the injured
man.
"I'n 60" he at last growled
Wouldn't do it even for you. but he's
good as dead-lucky for him!"
Dead"
Dying. You stay away"
He went around the baobab and
few PAGES along the cleft to the place
where a limp form lay huddled on the
lodges out of the mud Slowly as
though drawn by the fascination of
horror, the girl crept after him. When
she saw the broken. storm-beaten
thing that had been Winthrope, she
stopped, and would have turned
back. After all, as Blake had said,
he was dying
When she stood at the feet Of the
Wrthing figure. and looked down into
the battered face. it required all her
willpower to keep from fainting
Blake frowned up at her for an in
slant, but said nothing
Winthrope was speaking, feeby and
brokenly yet distinctly: Really. did
not mean any harm-at frst-you
know. But a man does not always
have control"
Not beast like you!" growled
Blake.
"Ow! Don't it me, | say now. I'm
done for. My legs are cold already"
"Oh. quick. Mr.. Blake build fire.
1t may be, some hot broth"
Too late" muttered Blake See
here. WINTHROP, there's no use lying
about it. You're going out mighty
soon. See if you can't die like a
man"
Die, Gawd, but I can't die-I can't
die Ow, it burns"
He flung up hand. and sought to
tear at his wounds
Hold hard" cried Blake. catching
the hand in an iron grip.
Something in his touch. or the tone
of command, seemed TO COVER the
wratched man into a state OF abject
submission
"S'elp me. I'll confess,--I'N confess
ALL" he bsbbled The stones are
sewed in the stomach pad: 'ad to
take EN- hout of their settings and
melt up the gold" He paused. and a
cunning smile stole over his distorted
features "Ho, wot a bloomin' lark!
Valet plays the gent. an they never
as a hinkling. Mr. Cecil Winthrope,
hif you please. an a int OF a title
wot lark! Awnings me lad, you're
a gay 'oaxer! Wot a lark. wot
lark"
Again there was a pause. The
breath of the wounded man came in
labored gasps. There was an ominous
rafting in his throat. Yet once again
he rallied, and this time his eyes
turned TO Miss Leslie, bright with an
agonized consciousness of her pres
ence and of all his guilt and shame.
His voice shrllled out in quavering
appeal: "Don't-don't look at me,
miss! l tried to make myself a gen
tleman; God knows | tried. | fought
my way up out Of the East End-out
of that hell-and none ever lifted An
ger to help me. | educated myself
like scholar-then the stock sharks
cheated me OF my savings-out of the
last penny; and had to take service.
My God! a valet-his grace's valet,
and | scholar! Do you wonder the
devil got into me? Do you"
Blake's deep voice, firm but strange
ly husky. broke in upon and silenced
the cry OF agony: There, guess
you've said enough"
"Enough-and last night My God
to be such BEAST The devil tempted
me-aye, and he's paid me out in my
own CONT I'm done for! God ha'
mercy on mcleod ha' mercy"
Again came the gasping rattle; this
time there was no rally.
Blake thrust himself between Miss
Leslie and the crumpled figure
Get back around the tree" he said
hsrshly.
"What Won oOIno to 40