The Birmingham age-herald., 1912-12-08

{ belore Carl stowe druggist lll answered. Stowe knew of no friend who would be calling him at this time of night, for it was near midnight, and he was preparing to close the store. Everyone else was gone aAd it with the determination to tell the party that he was the porter and could not fill prescription that he finally lifted the re- eeiver.
 Hello Carl. Whats wrong with your voice?' greeted his ears in response to his disguised "Hello!" This is Steve elosin' up?e
 Yes"
 Carl come up to the office just as soon you can Don't fail Youn find a note on my desk-hurry as much as possible-'
 Click went the receiver in Stoves ear
 Hello" he yelled. No answer came Stowe swore softly.
 In vain he tried to get Dr. Steve Trexle to answer his telephone. Line out of der" finally reported the operator, and with bang Stowe hung the receiver up
 He half dozen blocks from the store on his way home before the feel ing that he should turn about conquered him. There was something about the few words that Dr. Trexle spoke that seemed to keep drawing him in the orpo- site direction from which he was going When he left the store he was mad and, he thought, thoroughly determined to go straight home and to bed. "The idea of asking me 10 come out to his office on a night like this at midnight and give no reason," he had muttered to himself as he had buttoned up his big coat and faced the cold drizzle blown toward him by the gusts of wind from the north. But Dr. Steve Trexle and Carl Stowe had been reared together, they had attended college together. they had been the closest ~~>~>~>~~~~~>~~~~~~~ the little party to the place of execution. No one spoke. The prisoner resigned, bore the same melancholy dignity that had impressed Merrill in the days at college; the guards were silent. huddled in their great coats; and Merrill white of face, marched with nervous footstep behind.
 The crisp cracking of the frozen leaves, and the creak of the stiffened boughs dis turbed not the silence ofsthe victim and the guards marching to the place of death
 The prisoner refused the blindfold. He kept his keen gray eyes on those of his enemy, as he had when facing him in the moment of the trial. Accrsingly, but not resentfully, rather scornfully and sorrow fully they looked, as if resretting the spot on his character more than ;he loss of his life.
 Calmly he gazed along the gllttef1ng barrels of the- rifles. and with the Shot fell motionless. dead upoa the frozen earth.
 In the coat pocket of the prisoner one of the guards found the following let ter and placed 1t in the hands of Mer . Till: e
 Dearest Richard so Kennith is now ihSHpcr UT SuuF reSIncnt. NO. my request to you is that you say nothing whatever to him. To me he is dead and with him is buried all earthly direction am rec onciled to life of sorrow.
 When you. the brightest spot in my life, were sent away from home by father, disowned and forgotten by all but me, l thought the blow would crush me for ever. Then came Kennith and with all the passion of my saul, adored him. But how little he trusted me was snown, by his action when ne found us together It never occurred to ma that l would fail to recognize you should l see you again To me you were the boy, the playmate of my girlhood.
 s T thank God for that meeting. It is now the one solace of my life. But fear l will never. see you again.
 Goodbye. Be brave. and may God speed you in your work. Your loving sister. MARY"