The silver messenger., 1912-02-20

colonel Hamilton was as good AZ
his word. He did not wait for any un-
due physical adornment In an In
credibly short space of time he came
out sufficiently clad for decency, and
grabbing the young man by the arm
he fairly ran down the corridor to-
ward the elevator. The late diners
were astonished as Colonel Bill and
the young cub forced their way
through the crowded hall to the auto
mobile outside. The colonel had not
forgotten the munitions OF war. and
he carried tin box in his hand which
he had snatched from his table as he
left his bed room.
Get US down to the ONCE in double
quick tine" said the cub reporter to
the chauffeur. Never mind about
fines. Bust up the machine, II neces-
sary: but get US there! That's the
old mans orders. We haven't got any
time to spare" he yelled, as the big
car started.
This way, SIR" said the cub re-
porter. plotting him into the elevator
at once. Here you are!" he ex-
claimed after a wild sweep upward.
He led him through q couple Of
doors and ushered him into a big
brightly lighted room where two men
sat.
Col Bill Hamilton, sir" said Alb
bott breathlessly. He almost felt like
saluting and saying. Come aboard.
sir!"
"Thirty-two minutes" said the night
editor. looking at his watch. VERY
we'll DONE"
"Mr. Abbott. you may remain here
II you wish," said the editor to the
cub. 1T will be interesting for you
to hear"
Thank you. SIR" said the delighted
young reporter, making himself small
and inconsiderable in a corner whence
he could hear and see everything.
You must excuse me-" said the ed
itor. for having brought you down
here so summarily at this hour Of the
night, but affairs of great moment
You want to know about Gormly 2"
I'VE do"
well, what is it,"
Read this" said the editor.
Colonel Bill fished a pair Of spec
tacles out of his side pocket and de-
liberately perched them astride of his
nose. He read the letter through very
slowly. The night editor was in q
fever Of impatience. Even the imper'
turbable editor-in-chief was consider
ably more agitated than usual
The night editor groaned over the
long windedness of the frontiersman
whats the matter, sonny?" asked
Colonel Bill solicitously. Amt sick
are you?"
mo, no." was the answer.
But go on, please. Colonel Hamil
ton," said the editor; "and will you be
as explicit as possible. We are hold
ing up the paper in the hope that yol
may be able to throw some light OF
this matter, and time is of the great
est Importance"
81 see," was the reply. well. then
all that's written in that papers tru'
enough but he amt told all th'
truth"
Would you mind telling US wha
has been suppressed or left out?"
"The mans wife was run away witt
as Gormly. or Fordyce as l knowe'
him. says on that night he indicates
that the woman's husband was lef
dyin' on the cabin floor"
Yes"
Mex mornin', some Of us, suspi
trouble, after the storm died out, go
up crowd and went over to tn
mans shack. We found him there
"Dead?" asked the editor.
Not yet, but mighty nigh gone"
Colonel Bill drew from his pocket
key and unlocked the tin box. Fror
a worn envelope he drew forth wor
piece of paper. on which was write
in pencil that was very much fade(
but still sufficiently legible, brie
message. Colonel Bill unfolded tn
paper. yellow with age. and handed
to the editor, who seized it, turned
the light, and read:
Il killed him, but it was In self d.
fense-Fordyce."
That's the first bit of evidence
he said.
The editor nodded. THAT settle
it,"
mo, it don't" was the reply. "Fe
when we got there, as said. he warn
dead, and we managed to revive hil
with a good drink Of liquor. whic
Pete Breeden--that was his name
always would respond to-" he inte
polated. "And he managed to say
few words"
What we're they?"
HE said that his wife shot him an
run on with Fordyce."
Anything more?"
II Then he died"
III 81 see," said the editor. "Gorml
q took the blame upon himself to shiel
the woman"
q. ut will be Colonel Hamilton's vi
II supported statement against this wri
D. ten confession, though" interpOsed tt
e night editor.
9 We'll. as it happens" was the r
Il ply, 'the statement amt unsuppor
u ed"
N What more?" asked the editor.