Evening journal. [volume] (Martinsburg, W. Va.) 1907-1913, 1912-09-17

not hesitate to charge me with an un-
pardonable lack Of perception. Even
from your own telling" they will prob
ably declare, I'VE realized from the
first that the creature you discovered
at two IN the morning, supporting him
self by means Of Fifth avenue area
railing, was not Robert Cameron, but
his physical counterpart, and a not
very deceptive counterpart at that"
l shall not dispute the justice of the
criticism. AS look back at 1t all now,
I sometimes wonder, myself how
could have been so blind, so credulous
And yet there Is something to be said
on the other side, too. An able adyo-
cate, | believe, might make out fair
ly strong case for me if l were dis
posed to defend myself; which, as it
happens, | am not, since the verdict
can make no possible difference either
to you or to me, and would only delay
the elimination Of our narrative.
Nevertheless | must tell that for
some minutes after reading the letter
which had SO opportunity fallen into
my hands | stood at the foot of the
bed, and in the glare Of the blazing
electrics, studied with keenest scru-
tiny the face which had SO deceived
me.
In general contour and individual
feature the likeness to Cameron was
monstrous in its fidelity. The same
rugged power, inherited from Scottish
forbears, was traceable in every Inca
ment. But there the similarity ended
The face / gazed upon lacked illumina-
ton. Character, so strongly indicated
in the other, was from this totally alb
sent. In its place was an admixture
of craft and brutality. so palpable, now
so clearly, Enthusiastically evident
that | maryelled at my former delu-
sion.
1t was the newspaper puzzle picture
over again. Having at length discov-
cred the hidden rabbit could see
nothing else whatever. 1t dominated
the drawing. 1t fairly sprang at me
from out the printed page.
There was still another feature of
the revelation, however, which held
contrasting pathos. The letter which
carried conviction beyond all possible
dispute was from Donald McNish's
aged mother. And while it tempered
in a measure the harshness of my
judgment against the son, it was of
tragic import, In that 1t was one po-
tent piece of evidence in his undoing,
severing the last link in the chain
which connected his identity with that
Of the shamefully maliened Cameron
Evelyn wept over this letter, and
am not sure but that my own sight
grew hazy, too, as | read the fond,
quantity couched phrases of endear-
ment, penned half year back in Dun
dee, by this God-fearing old Scotch
woman, to that infamous, blood-stained
reprobate, who, to her, was still her
lain bonnie BARN"
1t all came out, eventually, that Nc
Nish had travelled the world over in
the sixteen years intervening since the
coolie massacre, employing a score OF
more of aliases and SO studiously
avoiding the name by which he had
then been known, as to have almost
forgotten 1t, probably, himself, until
yielding to the call of home, he had at
some early period of the last twelve
month returned for a brief visit to his
native town and his septuagenarian
mother.
1t was then, most likely, that he
gave to her the address Of the New
York hotel. Fate Influenced the moth
er to write, and Fate sent the son
there six months later to get the let
ter, and SO carry upon his person the
conirmatory evidence of his identity
just at the time when it would prove
fatal.
How did 1t happen" have been
asked, that you didn't examine imme-
diately the clothes that the supposed
Cameron wore, when you found him? p
Continued Tomorrow