The Bridgeport evening farmer., 1913-03-28

anywhere we turn. Old fellow, be- they get throughr' The speakers voice broke in spite of him.
 Colonel Todhunter's face grew hard and grim. "'No, they wen'tr' he said stubborn1y. '"They can't do it. They ain't got nothin' against Tom but cir cumstantial evidence, and it surely ought to be mighty hard here in Nine yer to convict a boy like Tom, well known and comin' of a family that's lived here SO long, on circumstantial evidence alone. They'll try to do it, Bill, but they can't. Tom'n get the benefit of the doubt.''
 There was something deeply pathetic in this eager clHtching at the one re mafning strand of hope. The two old friends were now making their way toward the jail to see Tom Suddenly they came face to face with Mrs. Tod hunter and Mary.
 The girl advanced directly toward them with outstretched hand, her moth CT following.
 ''Howdy, Colonel Stricklandp' she said, her voice trembling a little. You are on your way to visit Tom, aren't yOuT'
 "YeS, Miss Nary replied Toms fa- ther quietly. "The trial begins tomor- row, and only left him to meet Colo nel Todhunter, and he's returning with me-"
 Colonel Strickland" said Mary reso- lutely, though her voice shook more than ever, T want you to carry a mes sage to Tom from me-
 There was a curious little pause Mrs. Todhunter laid her hand gently on her daughters arm, but the girl moved away from the touch, not harsh | ly, yet as if she felt it to be a protest. 'T want you to give Tom my love, Colonel Strickland,'' she said. 'tAnd I want you to tell him, from me, that I don't believe one word of these awful charges against him-not one word either about Stam Tucker or about that-that girlI''
 And as she spoke Mary Todhunter burst out crying. She dabbed piteous- | ly at her face with her handkerchief, unable to control her emotions. Then, sobbing, she turned away with her mother, no other word being spoken.
 God bless that girl of yours, Thurs !'' spoke Colonel Strickland, his own voice l unsteady. She's good grit clear through-and, somehow, she gives me more courage than I've had for many a day They haven't got Tom yet and they'll have the fight of their lives before they do get him!' That's the talk!'' cried Colonel Tod hunter. Face 'em that way, Bill, and we'll make 'em strain their souls, for every inch they try to gain! They got to do it-by the good God up wonder in them skies, Bill, they got to do it!'' But the little flicker of encourage ment caused by a girls brave words soon died away in the somber shadow of Tom Strickland's prison. It was two very weary and gray faced old men i who came away from the prisoner an i hour later and parted at the jaiPs front, | each to go to his own home. | That evening Colonel Todhunter went l by appointment to the Strickland home 1 for a conference with Toms father and | Major Gentry Dryden, leading counsel l for the defense. It was nearly mid night when he returned to his own i home.
 He found Aunt Nirandy Ransom 1 there. The old negress rose, trembling | at sight of him, her black hands fut- tering toward him in instinctive glad ness of welcome.
 ''Bress Gawd, yo' done come!' she | cried. q been eatin' my ole heart out l waitin' fo' yo', suh! Kunn1 Todhunter i yo' got some mighty quick an tick1ish wu'k cut out fo' yo eff yo' gwine save 1 Mars Tom Strickland's lffe-das hue come hyar now to tell yo' erbout it. suh!'
 Through the after midnight b1ackness that was soon to change into the gray | of a cloud swept dawn a fugitive man i and woman fled.
 Side by side they sat in a light road | wagon drawn by a rawboned horse | whose long and swift stride told of its | selection for this special service | The man, gaunt, swarthy, with keen
 black eyes that gleamed alertly from under the wide brim of weather beat | en sombrero, seemed i'll content. how 1 ever, with the progress being made.
 Almost necessarily he urged the horse to increased effort, now and then cursing outright in the grip of a fever 1sh irnpatience.
 Save when he leaned forward for this | urging the man sat slouching and limp l the mark of the vagrant Ishmael on every line of body and Iimbs-
 The woman was tense, rigid, her face set always to the front. It was framed in by shawl thrown over her head
 or twice her glance went furtively tC
 were in her eyes. Her hands were tightly clasped together as they lay in