The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1910-06-15

"Of course I don't know-you may
be innocent, or you may be a MUIR
derer-I shouldn't be at all surprised
if YOU we're. But you have no right
at all to mix me up with your
crimes"
At that moment I felt STEPPED in
villany. but made no effort to Vlndl-
cate myself.
Listen, Miss Smith," I said. by
the way, I don't suppose that is your
name"
"It will do for the present." she re-
turned.
well then, Miss Smith, I am sin
cerely sorry to have involved you IN
this-this complication. Believe me,
I know no more than you do what II
is all about"
Stony and uncompromising silence
from Miss Smith.
But if you will tell me who you
are, or, better still, your fathers
name, IT. will be very easy to tele'
phone to your house and everything
can be quickly and quietly arranged
so far as you are concerned
st will never do that" she replied.
mo matter what they do to me- j
shall never go home. II have left
there forever"
7 thought of Nancy, who had also
left home that night, and felt o
svmpathetic toward Julia Smith,
whose errand was probably similar.
Tell me-" I said gently, were
YOU running away? You expected
some one, you know-and--Well,
your n in the cab at first-'
She flushed a lively and painful
scarlet. Red-haired girls should
never blush.
81 was going to be married" she
said.
"Yes,"I rejoined; $50 was l."
For a moment we remained in
silence, submerged in gloomy redec-
tons.
"Oh. dear" she cried, in genuine
| Distress. what shall I do? He'll
think / didn't come. And I left a
note saying I was going to be mar
ried, and now I'm not going to be
married, but I'm going to prison.
And it's all your fault"
"Well," I said, IT was going to be
married, too, and apparently I also
am going to prison, although I don't
know what I've done. And I might
say that it is all your fault, too, for
if YOU had not come along just then
everything would have been all
right"
7 am usually very polite indeed to
women, and take the burden of their
mistakes on my own shoulders with a
pleasant smile, but there are times
when one is goaded to the point OF
desperation and is obliged to speak
his mind. When there is but N
girl in the world for a fellow, 1t 1s
certainly hard lines to be stranded
in a police station with another.
A diversion was here created by
the summons of cabby to the next
room, and we watched him depart
e%nviously. Mr.. McGovern walked
with a naughty manner that I found
it hard to tolerate. 1t implied SO
distinctly that. being detained as at
witness was something very different
from detention as a principal.
Again gloomy silence enveloped us.
I was bordering the question of bail
and making up my mind to request
the use of the telephone. I wondered
if MY crime would prove heinous
enough to prohibit, and. If not, tc
whom I could appeal. 1t was unlikely
n one would. be at u rooms; even
| should Mrs. Stubs condescend to
take the message upstairs. We did
not maintain a private wire ourselves,
because we always forgot to pay fol-
it, and therefore the company selfish
ly removed it.
I thought of the black bag and
became absorbed in specializing upon
what was in it. Why did not the
desk sergeant return, and why had
| Mr.. McGovern been called away?
I also thought of the morning pa
pers and Mrs. Joseph Robinson read.
ing them at breakfast. Even at that
moment I found consolation in the
recollection that Casey's name, not
mine, would adorn the page Of the
dailies.
Nancy, I reasoned, had of course
returned to Aunt Josephine, and ]
could only hope that estiruable lady
had not awakened from her nap in
time to discover Der niece's departure.
I felt that I had lost my life's happi.
ness through sheer stupidity and was
conscious of a desire to hit savagely
at any one who CHANGED to be con.
venient. Therefore I turned again
to the girl.
EYES," I said; "but for you-"
To be Continued.