The Washington herald., 1913-02-23

anu was drumming ISHtly with MS ionS
white fingers on his desk.
The woman nervously pleated her hand
kerchief. fearing to begin. You must
excuse me-" she said presently. II car
not tell my story very well. I do not
come here for mercy or anything like
that. 1t is only a matter Of justice"
Had it not been for the gloom, she
might have seen a smile steal over the
face Of the dark figure at the desk.
Once plunged into her narrative, her
words flowed rapidly, until-suddenly she
ceased to speak.
That was five years ago." she said.
her voice dropping to sadly reminis-
cent whisper. We were to have been
not tell the rest"
The woman probably felt her cheeks
flush with warmth.
The Governor could hear her quick
breathing. In a minute he said kindly:
"Well?"
The woman hesitated an instant. and
then fairly bIurted out the rest of her
tale The Governor. through the dark
ness, saw the woman lean, painting. to-
ward him. Convulsively she pressed her
hands TO her face. She collapsed in
tears. When her sobs became more regu-
lar. though still labored. the Governor
said:
And Whalen-he knew this?"
He must have known"
Then why did he not tell?'
The woman hung her head and said. in
a low voice:
II was mistaken, sir. The other wom-
an lied
"Ah. see." The Governor turned and
looked out OF the windows. The old
fashioned iron lamps on the broad steps
a. - ~.
blinking in the dark trees. and the arc
light swinging In the street swayed the
shadows OF their foliage back and forth
on the white walks. A flash of heat
lightning quivered' over the purple out
lines of the elms.
The Governor sat for a long time in
somber silence. The woman could bear
the ticking of his watch. Presently he
drew II from his pocket and struck a
match.
1T is growing late" he said. THE
tale you tell is a very remarkable tale.
My time is 50 fully occupied that it will
he impossible for me TO devote any
thought TO it just now. If you will leave
your address with my secretary / shall
with you. Meanwhile-do
not talk"
When the private secretary had con-
iuCted the woman from the room the
Governor went to his window. The
voices of the June night floated up to
him, hut he no longer heard their mu-
sic. For the second time. at the name Of
and even in the darkness, there
swept over his face the shadow of the
passing of a great ambition
The convention met The secretary
never got down to in calling the roll
Of counties, and the Governor was re-
nominated by acclamation. But never
in all the exciting scenes OF those two
days, in the black moment OF suspense
before the roll-call began. in the white
instant OF agony pending the poll OF
the Richland County delegation. in the
golden hour of triumph. when he stood
pale and bending before the mad ap-
plause rolling up to him in mighty bill
lows, did he forget the name of Thomas
or did the face OF that woman
pass from him. They followed him per-
they glimmered in his dreams.
There was no escape from their pur-
suit.
After a week in which he found no
Ease. with the determination that char
acteriZed him when once aroused, he
a judicial investigation Of the
'ase. He obtained a transcript of record.
and read it as carefully as if he had
been retained in the case and sought
upon carry ~ 10 IIlt
Supreme Court. In the familiar work
le found for a time relief.
Gilman, meanwhile, had forgotten
he incident of the woman's visit. The
dea of pardoning Tom Whalen was
90 prepOsterous to merit serious con-
;ideration. But. when the Governor
old him To go to the penitentiary and
interview Whalon. and then to the city
md the locality of the crime for the
,urpose Of learning all he could about
death, he damned himself
or having mentioned the fact of the
presence on that crowded, to-
,acco-clogged. perspiring morning. And
Is he left the capitol he resolved that
lis visit should be astonishinSly bar
EN- of results.
Inside the warden's private Office at
he penitentiary he saw Whalen. The
nan found the convict's friend, con-
and Gilman hardly knew him.
When the private secretary told him
# the application for his pardon. Wha-
en- only smiled. Gilman found him
trangely reticent. and, after an effort
o induce him to talk. said:
"Whalen. really now, did you kill
The striped convict picked at the
ap he held in his lap. 4 bitter smile
his pale. moist face.
Suspected again, eh?' he said, with |
ut looking up.
Finally Whalen tired of the exami-
lation. He breathed with difficulty, |
'ut that may have been due to his dis !
ase. At lastshe raised his shaven |
lead. |
Mr.. Gilman" he said. Il see what |
-6u are getting at. L have told you I
i'd not commit the crime for which |
m nf tho |
900 other prisoners within these walls |
nd wearing these clothes will tell
ou the same thing. 1 don't know
whether you believe me or not. 1t |
oesn't make much difference. 1t
oesn't matter what becomes of me any |
more. l amt long for this world. So |
ust let ii drop-whats the use of !
pening it up again."
But you haven't answered my ques- |
ion." said Gilman. interested in spite |
+ himself for a great fear was grow |
ng up within him: you have not told |
ne who did kill Brokoski."
The convict lifted his eyelids slowly |
nd fastened his vision upon his intro
ocutor. And then he said very delib- |
rately and distinctly:
mo, Mr.. Gilman. and never will!'
Gilman left the penitentiary with |
more than gloom upon him. He de-
lined the warden's effusive invitation |
o stay to dinner. He wanted to get |
way. He could not forget the shine
n Whalens eyes. And the fear within
ossessed him.
When he reached the city. after din
ng at the chop house where his old |
riends foregathered. he went out to
street. Costello had sold his
arber shop. and the place had become
saloon. The saloon was quiet that