The enterprise-recorder. (Madison, Fla.) 1908-1933, 1910-08-11


money 1t should, and being a &C Nard.
l have chosen a towards method az
paying my debt. 1 do not ask for
pity. I only ask compassion for INV
Wife"
For a moment the burglar stood
undecided, the letter in his hand.
Suddenly, breaking the Impressive
silence, came the loud ringing OF
telephone bell.
Instantly, involuntarily, the burglar
closed the lantern slide, gripped hiR
pistol and crouched behind the desk.
Again the bell rang, and mechanically
he arose and walked to the telephone.
Standing with one foot on each side
OF the dead cashier, he took down the
receiver.
"Hello!" he said, striving to imi-
tate the voice Of one whose eyes he
could feel, but could not see.
He was answered by a woman.
"oh, Henry!" she said, 81 have Just
awakened from such vivid-such an
awful dream! know 1t is silly. but
it frightened me, / dreamed that you
were in trouble-in disgrace. And
then 1 awoke and found that you had
not returned home. oh, Henry! what
is keeping you so late? Come home
at once, will you not, dear?"
YES" the burglar replied, as one
in daze.
DO" she continued, and there was
anxiety in her voice. 81 am so glad,
so glad 1t was only a dream. would
rather see you dead than dishoDpred,
Henry, dear"
The burglar crept back to his desk
and seated himself in the dead mans
chair, the womans voice still ringing
in his ears.
That voice! II haunted him like
memory of the long ago, like an echo
Of the days of childhood. It thrilled,
it stirred him. 1t aroused that old
mad love of his boyhood.
Whose voice was It? Undoubtedly
the wife of the dead coward lying at
his feet? But who had she been be-
fore-before she married him?
That voice! Could 1t be Martha
. Grants? Years and years ago, when
they were schoolmates, he had loved
Martha, worshiping her from afar, for
she lived in a fine house in the best
part of the town, and he was a child
of the slums. A vast social gulf d.
v!ded them, but he loved her in Sc
: cret, knowing that he scarcely entered
her thoughts.
Once he had thrashed a boy for
teasing her, and she had smiled at
him. He had never forgotten that
smile. That was years and years ago,
but, though she had long since passed
out of his life, he had never loved
another. And now--was that voice
indeed the voice of Martha Grant?
, Again the burglar deliberately
opened the slide of his lantern and
turned the CLEAN upon the desk. ! Al
the back part of the desk he saw a
picture in a silver frame. 1t was q
= photograph Of a woman-not a par
ticularly handsome woman - but
glorified by a dazzling smile-and he
recognized that smilel
From that face he turned reluctant
ly at last TO gaze with scorn at the
cold features lying there with the
r scarlet mark Of sin upon his brow
He felt no pity now-nothing but con
g tempt; but Martha's words, 81 would
e rather see you dead than dishonored.
S rang in his ears.
j. With smile he placed the letter
e the contemplate letter - in hi
e pocket, picked up Frazer's pistol, re
:, placed the empty chamber with
II loaded cartridge, and laid the weapdA
II in a drawer. Then he tore the cola
Of the cashiers coat, ripped one slew
n half its length and overturned tn
D chairs and scattered them about.
/. 1t was nearly daybreak. In few
It moments the gray would be creepinI
.e up the eastern sky.
Quickly the burglar blew open tn
l. safe and scattered the gold and silVe
- and bank notes upon the floor.
a, "Now," he said to himself, the
y will find the evidence of burglary, tn
IF cashier murdered"
sr Leaving his soap and dark lanter
lie by the shattered safe, he fed, an
Ig two things only did he take-th
cashiers letter and the photograp
D. in the silver frame.
q, Through the rain and darkness b
lie drove away, without taking any Q
q, the spoils Of his burglary, but nc
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