The Bridgeport evening farmer., 1912-08-01
CHAPTER XIX.
. MAaeura Eor Maasura.s...

Af TwATCHED wardrop swing up the
 path with his head down. saw
 the shadowy figure of the other
 @ man fall into line behind him. Then caught the platform of the last car as 1t passed, and that short ride Into town was trfumphal procession, with the wheels beating time and sing ing, "It's all the san1e-the same-to me-to me"
 Il called Burton by telephone. We arranged to meet at little Chinese restaurant, where at that hour, 9 o'clock, we would be almost alone.
 Burton listened attentively to War drops story as I repeated 1t.
 "So Schwartz did 1t, after alI,'' he said regretfully when I finished. "It's tame ending. It had all the clements of the unusual, and it resolves itself into an ordinary, everyday man to man feud I'm disappointed. We can't touch Schwartz,
 -'I thought the Tfmes-POgt was hot after him.
 Schwartz bought the Times-Post at 3 o'clock this afternoon" Burton said, with repressed rage. ''Pm called of. Tomorrow we run 8 photograph of Schwartzwold, his place at P1attsburg. and the next day we eulogize the ad- ministratfon. I'm going down the riv- CT on an excursion boat and write up the pig killing contest at the union butchers picnic"
 How Is Mrs. Butaer P asked.
 "Delirious," shortly. "She's going to croak, Wardrop's going to Mexico, Schwartz will be next governor, and Miss Maitland's body win be found in cistern. The whole thing has petered out. Whats the use of finding the murderer if he's coated with asbestus and lined with money? Mike, want some more tea to drown my troubles" We called up the hospital about 1o:30 and learned that Mrs Butler was sink ing. Fred was there and, without much hope of getting anything, we went over. took Burton in as a nephew Of the dying woman, and was glad had done it. She was quite conscious, but very weak. She told the story to Fred and myself, and in corner Burton took 1t down in short hand. We got her to sign 1t about day light sometime, and she died very quietly shortly after Edith arrived at g.. To give her story as she. gave it would be impossible. The ramblings of a sick mind, the terrible pathos of it all, is impossible to repeat. She lay there, her long, thin body practical ly dead, fighting the death rattle in her throat There were pauses when for i've minutes she would lie in a stupor, only to rouse and go forward from the very word where she had stopped. She began with her married life, and to understand the beauty of 1t is to understand the things that came after. She was perfectly, ideally, H. logically happy. Then one day Henry Butler accepted the nomination for state treasurer, and with that things changed. During his term in od1ce he altered greatly; his. wife could only guess that things were wrong, for he refused to talk.
 The crash came, after all, with ter rfble suddenness. There had been an all night conference at the Butler home, and MT. Butler, in a frenzy at finding himself a dupe, had called the butler from bed and forcibly elected Fleming and Schwartz from the house. Ellen Butler had been mortified, sick ened by what she regarded as the vul- garity of the occurrence. Hut her loy- atty to her husband never wavered. Gro Be Continued.)