The San Juan islander. [volume] (Friday Harbor, Wash.) 1898-1914, 1913-05-23
THAT is how l hope you VIII 81
xrovo think NJ ma

"That is how | hope you will al
ways think OF me.
He was not kind OF man to talk
sentiment, and glanced back In sur.
prise. There was an expression Of
peace upon him, such as have never
seen in a human countenance, eth
err before or since. He smiled. and,
reaching over, gave my hand q
squeeze.
"You have the making Of a good
fellow in you," he said. May the
fates forget your follies."
We drove on In silence for awhile.
| and then the old man rose, kneelins
upon the cushions Of the back seat.
Here comes the sun. Julius Craig. y
he said. 1.-THE mists are scattering,
and the world comes peeping through
to welcome you back to freedom
Women and wine and cards-does the
old spirit stir within your
"And who the devil may you be?''
asked the convict, turning upon him.
"Have five years changed me 30
much? Perhaps my beard is whittier
than 1t was the night you fed with
her to the yacht in Cadiz bay"
| The convict gave a mingled cry
like a beast in pain, shrinking back,
with his face one gray mask OF fear
mot Mortimer he whispered. .Tt
can't be Mortimer He died."
| "You are quite mistaken" said
Hearne politely.
It all happened very swiftly-in one
| long breath or so, It seemed to me-
Craig sprang from his seat and ran
wildly down the slope; but the old
man was not FIVE yards behind him.
believe that the convict had the
pace of him, but the cliff turned Craig
to the right, and the next moment
they had closed, and hung, swaying
| upon the edge.
| The flicker of a knife, shrill, pip
ing cry, and they were gone.
was alone In the great silence
save for the faint murmurs Of the
stream as it fought the rocks be.
low.
It took me ten minutes and more to
reach them, for / had to skirt the cliff
until slide Of granite boulders gave
me a path to the bottom. Craig was
dead. the knife had done its work;
but the old man was alive, though his
grave blue eyes were glazing fast. He
recognized me, and smiled very, very
family. / raised his head upon my
arm and wiped his wrinkled face with
my handkerchief.
rs he dead?"
"Yes," told him.
Il was-manager Of mine-in
SPAIN" he whispered. my daughter
he took her to his yacht-scoundrel
was married already-she died In Lon.
DON"
| There was no vengeance In his face
now; he faltered on as simply as 9
little child.
Long search-found he was In
prison-came to kill him. met you
Ito help him escape seemed bet
ter way. Then he would know why
he had to def had shot him over
hedge he would-never have under
stood-sorry for you-had to do my
duty-by him."
His head fell back with long sigh
so that I thought all was over; but
presently he rallied again, in the last
blind effort at life which even man
with a broken back will make.
Not a sin. Mary DEAR" he called
"How can they tell you it was muir
der when they know"
He finished his explanation in an
other world.
That Is about all need tell you.
found the horse grazing by the road
side and drove to Ashburton with nc
great care whether they caught me OF
not. Yet l was back in London be
fore they found the bodies.
/
So ended the story of John Hender
son as Inspector Peace told 1t tt
me.
"And your" l asked.
II suspected that Kingsley hai
helped in the escape, but never iden
titled him with Jack Henderson. WHIT
Thomas Hearne might be or why ht
killed the convict could never find
out. So l failed, but don't know
that / am ashamed of it, all thing!
considered"
did Henderson die in the hos
pital?"
| mo; they pulled him round. Som.
| old friends found him place in som,
racing stables. He is there now
HE had broken several sorts o
laws" suggested. when he recov
cred didn't you"
No., 1 didn't" said the inspector
firmly. IT let him go free-and with
out straining my conscience, either.
CHRONICLES TO BE CONTINUED.
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