Greene County herald., 1913-05-02


ways searching, always looking for
the sight of fac that remained
ever clear to me. Something seemed
always whispering to me that some
day / would find that man whom
hunted; some day, he and I would
come face to face, and then 1t would
be woman against man-with prison
or death as the ending. The police.
in the years that had passed. had done
nothing toward success in catching
him, and for that I hated them. De-
tectives had failed. AS far as knew
the case was outlawed: even should
| find the man who had attacked my
husband there would be little chance
for retribution. But still searched,
still my eyes roved, ever looking for
the face they sought, and one night
The orchestra had begun the play
| ing of plaintive melody. Alice Glenn
ent paused and looked far away, while
the pendant at her throat poised and
| fell and rose again. There was a
dangerous CLINT in her eyes now; /
saw that she was living with her
memories. remained silent. At last
| the voice began again
There was little secondhand
store next to the fiat I occupied, a
small two-story affair that was run by
two Jews. The place was dark, dirty
4 had always passed with a queer
little shiver which never could un-
derstand
Il had been a little late that eve
ming on my trip to the grocery store.
Darkness had already come and l was
hurrying along the street that might
reach home before the baby became
frightened. Through long space of
shadow had travelled, and then came
the flare of a dingy light as the door
OF the secondhand shop opened and a
man stepped forth, suitcase in his
hand. turned my head to him, then
gasped. The face!
HE did not seem to notice me, but
walked past rapidly. I whirled and
tried to follow. 1t was in me to
scream, to seize him if / could, to
tear his throat with my hands. Ny
teeth clenched hard-it seemed that
all the fury that woman can know had
suddenly surged into my heart at the
sight Of those features; could have
killed and not have been sorry for
the deed. But failed. A half block
and the man was lost in the shadows.
For an hour I searched, then walked
slowly to my little apartment home, to
take my baby in my arms and sit won
deringly by the window, looking down
in the darkness to where the little
secondhand shop reared its leprous
form-thinking and planning and
scheming for some way to find that
| face again, to catch the man I hated.
Alice Clement cooked no supper that
night. Early morning still found her
sitting by the window. still thinking. .
The music of the cafe was loud
now There was laughter, there was
singing from the cabaret vocalists who
lounged at one of the tables. But the
detective did not hear She was liv-
ing in the past. One hand was tap
ping the table nervously. Her head
/ Was lOI WdIQs uOI DOOy lGu6S.
'T had seen men with suit cases go
into that little secondhand store be-
fore, usually at night That fact weigh
ed on my mind. worried about it,
figured out every possible reason, but
no solution came. Yet there was
something, some reason; knew it.
The next day I studied the wall of
the building below me. Only one
window appeared, dark, shade-drawn.
The fire escape led within a foot of it,
right at place where the walls of the
fat In which lived was blank of
windows. A chance was there-a
poor chance, but determined to take
1t.
might came, and with it / put my
child to bed and clothed myself for a
long vigil. Then stepped OFT on the
fire escape. Slowly, cautiously,
made my way down to where 1 might
crouch by that little window, and
! there, bafled by the closely drawn
shade, felt the tears coming to my
eyes and choke in my throat as
realized that my chance of learning
the secrets of the little building were
fading. But suddenly, the inspiration
came. climbed back up the fire es-
cape and set out to find hardware
store that by some chance would be
open. In two hours was back on the
fire escape, with glass cutter In my
hands.
From within there came sounds,
loud sounds, but indistinct. was
thankful for the nervousness; 1t would
hide the grating OF the glass cutter.
Slowly began to trace circle on the
1 pane The scratching sounded like
the grinding Of car wheels to my
nervous ears. / paused. The laughter
and noise from within continued
lifted the glass cutter again Again
made the circle. The edge had cut
deep. The crucial time had come
the time Of chance. If luck was with
me the glass would hang In It's socket