Kingsbury County independent. (DeSmet, Kingsbury County, S.D.) 1894-1929, 1910-05-13

is the p~articulad possession of master
men" was not evident. Indeed, the
floor OF the passage was uncarpeted,
and the walls bare of picture or orna-
ment. Nor was the "~office," a little
room leading from the passage" any
more prolific of result. Such fixtures
as there were had apparently been left
behind by the previous tenant, and
these were thick with dust.
BAH" said the inquisitive Mr.. Lane
scornfully, n his words echoed hol-
lowly as in an empty house.
With the barren possibilities OF his
exploit before him, Mr.. Lanes spirits
fell.
He was Of the class, to whom refer
ence has already been made, that
looked in awe and reverence toward
the Borough Lot in the same spirit
as the youthful curate might regard
the consistory OF bishops. In his cups
pewter cups they were with frothing
heads a-top-he was wont to boast
that mis- connection with the Borough
Lot was both close and intimate. A
rumor that went around to the effect
that the "mouthpiece" who defended
him at the CLOSING OF the unsatisfac-
tory horsehair episode had been paid
for by the Borough Lot" he did not
trouble TO contradict.
IL he a known any of them, even
b. sight, he would not at that moment
have been effecting a burglarious en-
try into their premises.
Room after room he searched. He
found the m-furnished bedroom Of
Conner, and the DON where old
George slept on an uncleanly mat
tress. He found, too, the big room
where the Lot" held their informal
meetings, but nothing portable. Moth
ing that a man might slip under his
coat, and walk bodily out or the front
door with. No little article of jewelry
that your wife might carry to a pawn
brokers' with a long face and a longer
story OF the penury that forced you to
part with her dear mothers last gift.
None Of these, noted Mr.. Lane bitterly,
and with every fresh disappointment
he breathed the harder.
For apart from the commercial as
pect of this, his burglary, there was
the sickening humiliation of failure.
An imaginative man, he had already
invented the story he was to tell to
a few select cronies in sneak-thief di-
vision. He had rehearsed mentally a
scene where, with an air of nom
chalanCe, he drew q handful OF golden
sovereigns from his pocket and order
ed drinks round. And whilst they
were Shipping his drinks. smirkino re-
s~pectfully, he would have confided to
them the fact that he had been duly,
and with all ceremony installed a full
fedged member OF the Borough Lot"
of the irony of the situation he was
ignorant. A qualified burglar would
have completed a systematic exam
nation OF the premises in ten minutes,
but Mr.. Lane was not so qualified. In
consequence he dawdled from room 70
room, going back to this room TO
make sure, and returning to that room
TO be absolutely certain that nothing
had been overlooked. ObliviouS of the
flight Of time, he stood irresolutely In
the topmost room Of the house when
the real adventure of the evening be-
gan. He heard the click of a lock-
he thoughtfully closed the office door
behind him-and a voice, and his heart
leapt into his throat. He heard a
voice, a voice hoarse with rage, and
another. and yet another.
Mr.. Lane realized, from the stamp
ing OF feet on the stairs, that half a
dozen men had come into the house;
from their language he gathered they
We're annoyed.
Then he heard something that froze
his blood and turned his marrow TO
water.
IL had begun in a rumble of hoarse,
undistinguishable words, and ended in
the phrase that caught his ear.
he's sold us. I tell We!
Put spies on us! He led us into the
- ~ ~ I'LL
He heard another voice speaking in
IA lower tone.
What are we worth? You're q fool!
What dye think we're worth? Amt
we the Borough Lot? Don't he know
enough to hang two or three of us
It's Conner and his pal the
The Borough Lott"
The paralyzing intelligence came to
Mr.. Lane, and he held on to the bare
mantleshelf for support. Spies! Sup
pose they discovered him, and mis-
took him for a spy! His hair rose at
the thought. He knew them we'll
enough by repute. Overmuch hero
worship had invested them with quail
ties for evil which they may or may
not have possessed.
There might be a chance of escape.
The tumult below continued. Scraps
of angry talk came floating up.
Mr.. Lane looked out of the window:
the drop into the street was too long,
and there was no sign of rope In the
house,
Cautiously he opened the door of the
room. The men were in the room be-
meath that in which he stood. The
staircase that led TO the street must
take him past their door.
Mr.. Lane was very anxious TO leave
the house. He had unwittingly step
j Pto AhNO a Alpi iiSlo lltSls anu MWaHIeQ
to make his escape without disturbing
the inmates. Now was the time-or
never. Whilst the angry argument
continued a creaking stair board or so
might not attract attention. But he
made no allowance for the gifts OF
these ~men-gifts of sight and hearing.
Bat Sands, In the midst OF his TRADE.
saw the upllfted finger and head-jerk
of Goyle. He did not check his flow
of invective, but edged toward the
door: then he stopped short, and fling
ing the door open, he caught the
scared Mr.. Lane by the throat. and
dragging him into the room, threw
him upon the ground and knelt on him
What are We doing here?" he whis-
pered fercely.
Mr.. Lane. with protruding eyes, saw
the pitiless faces about him, saw
Goyle lift a life preserver from the
table and turn half round the better to
strike, and tainted.
stop that" growled Bat. with out
stretched hand. 1.-The little swine has
tainted. Who is he? Do any OF you
fellers know him ?"
II was the wizened faced man whom
Angel had addressed as Lamby who