The Cairo bulletin. (Cairo, Ill.) 1???-1928, 1912-06-14
CHAPTER XVI.
The Remains of Tragedy.

The Remains of Tra5edy.
1t must have been the shock of thus
realizing suddenly how shogt u TIM.
remained in which /, should have light
Which restored my senses. I'know I
stared at The dim yellow flicker duly
at first, and then with a swift return
ing consciousness which spurred my
brain into activity. In that instant |
hated, despised myself, rebelled at my
weakness. Faith in Claire Mortimer
came back to me In a flood OF regret.
IL she had failed, 1t was through no
fault Of hers, and / was no coward to
lie there and rot without making a
stern fight for life. When | was found,
those who came upon my body would
know that died struggling, died as q
man sheuld. FACING tate with, a smile,
with hands griRpedl in the, contest.
The resolution serycd--it was a spur
TO my pride, instantly driyihg away
every haunting shadow of oyfi. Yet
where Should I tttn? RIO what end
Should devote my energies? II was
useless to climb those stairs again.
But there must be q way out.
gripped the old muskct as the only
instrument at hand, and began testing
the walls. Three sides I raped, re-
ceiving the same dead duh response.
l was in tho darkest corner now, be-
yond the stairs, still hopelessly beat.
ing the gun barrel against the stone,
The dim light reyaaled no change in
the wall formation. the same irregu-
lar eypaEse Of rubble set in solid NOR
tar, hardened by century Of exposure
to the dry atmosphere. Then to an
Idle, Iistles5 blow there came a hollow,
wooden md, that caused the heart
to leap into the throat. / tried again,
foot to the left, confident my ears
had played me false, but this time
there could be no doubt-there was an
opening here back Of a wooden bar.
rier.
Half crazed by this good fortune,
caught up the inch CT candle, and held
it before the wall The dim light
scarcely servet|as an aid, so inge-
niously had the door been painted in
resemblance to the mortared stone. /
was compelled to sound again, inch by
inch, with the gun barrel before
could determine the exact dimensions
Of the opening. Then could trace the
slight crack where the wood was. fit
ted nor could have done this but for
the varying of a board. Wild with ap-
prehension lest my light fail before
the necessary work could be accom-.
plished, | drew out the single bladed
knife from my pocket, and began Wild
ening this crack Feyerishly as
worked this was slow Of accomplish
ment, yet silver by silver the slight
aperture grew, until | wedged in the
gun barrel, and pried out the plank.
The rush Of air extinguished the
candle, yet | cared nothing, for the air
was fresh and pure, promising Il clear
passage.
God, this was luck! With new cour-
age throbbing through my veins [
CROPPED my way back to the table after
flint and steel, and relit the candle
fragment, shadowing the fame with
both palms as | returned to where the
plank had been pressed aside. How
ever, ! found such precaution unnec.
essary, as there was no perceptible
draft through the passage now the
opening was clear for the circulation
Of air. There had been two planks--
thick and Of hard wood--composing
the entrance TO the tunnel, but found
1t impossible 10 dsiodge the second,
and was compelled to squeeze my
wag through the marrow twelve-inch
opening. This was a difficult task, as
was u man of some weight. but once
accomplished found myself In con.
tyacted passageWay, not to exceed