Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1911-10-26

must go through all the days with the
price OF blood upon his head-a murderer
"a haunted creature for the rest of his
life. And there on the table were the
:,poils. Layerck tried to think the mat
ter out dispassionately. He Was man
of average moral fiber-that is to say, he
was honest in his dealings with other
men because his father and his grand
father before him had been. honest, and
because the penalty for dishonesty was
shameful. Here however. he was face TO
face with an altogether unusual problem.
These notes belonged. without doubt.
to the dead man. Save for his own in
reference, they would have been in the
hands of his murderer. The use of them
for a few days could do no one any harm.
Such risk as there was he took himself.
That 1t was risk he knew ard fully
realized. Laverick had sat in his place
unmoved when his partner had poured out
his wall of fear and misery. Yet OF the
two men il was probable that Layerick
himself had felt their position the more
keenly. He was a man OF some social
standing, with a large circle of friends.
a sportsman, and with many interests
outside the daily routine Of his city life.
To him failure meant more than the loss
of money: it would rob him of every
thing in life worth having. The days TO
come had been emptied of all promise,
He had held himself stubbornly because
he was man. because he had strength
enough to refuse to let hts mind dwell
upon the indignities and humiliation to
come. And here before him was possible
salvation. There was price to be paid,
Of course a risk to be run in making use
even for an hour of this money. Yet from
the first he had known that he meant to
do it.
Quite cool now, he opened his private
safe, thrust the pocketbook into one of
the drawers and locked il up. Then he
lit a cigarette. finally shut up the office
and walked down the street. As he passed
the entry he turned his head slowly.
Apparently no one had been there. moth
ing had been disturbed. Straining his
eyes through the darkness he could even
see that dark shape still lying huddled
up on the ground. Then he walked on
He had burned his boats now and was
prepared for all emergencies. AT the cor
ner he met a policeman. to whom he
wished a CHEEKY good night. He told
himself that the thing which he had done
He owed 1T to those who had trusted him.
After all, 1t was the chief part of his life
his city career. 1t was here that his
friends lived 1t was here that his am
billions fiourished. Disgrace here was
eternal disgrace. His father and his
grandfather before him had been men
honored and respected I'm this same circle.
Disgrace to him, such disgrace as that
with which he had stood face to face a
few hours ago, would have been, in GER
tain sense a reflection upon their men,
cries. The names upon the brass plates
to right and left Of him were the names
of men he knew men with whom he de-
sired to stand well, whose friendship or
contempt made life worth living or the
reverse. 1t was worth great risk-this
effort Of his to keep his place. His one
mistake-this association with Morrison
had been such an unparalleled stroke of
bad luck. He was rid of the fellow now.
For the future there should be no more
partners. He had his life to live. 1t was
not reasonable that he should allow him
self to be dragged down into the mire by
such q creature.
He found an empty taXicab at the cor
ner of Queen Victoria street and hailed it.
Whitehall Court" he told the driver
Go be continued tomorrow