The Washington times., 1913-06-10


eagerness, whether, after all. it might
not have been a terrible dream. He
gazed around, eagerly looking for a
latticed window with dimity curtains. a
blue-papered wall hung with tests, and
q low-beamed ceiling. Alas! Before him
was a white-shrouded river, around him
a wilderness of houses, and long row
of faintly-burning lights stretched from
where he sat all along the curving EN-
bankment.
He was wearing unfamiliar clothes,
and a doubled-up newspaper was in his
pockets. 1t was all true then, the light
across the moor. the strange ride to
town, the wild exhilaration of spirits.
and the dull. crushing blow. The girl
with the roses-ah! she had been with
him-had brought him here. He remem-
bered the look IN her eyes when she had
refused his money. e.,
At least he had ridden himself Of that.
He tried to stretch himself. He was
stiff and sore all over. His head was
throbbing like a steam-engine, and he
Of cold, CHASTITY sickness. He remem-
bered, then, that he had not touched
food for hours. He remembered, too,
that he had not penny in the world
For an hour or more he lay there
partially unconscious. Physically he
was almost unable to move-nis brain.
however, was gradually clearing. After
all, perhaps the boldest course was the
safest. He would go and say:
Here / am, Douglas Guest-what do
took money from the old man. but 1t
was my own. AS to his death. what
do / know Of that? Who heard me
threaten him? Who saw me strike him?
There is no one"
He staggered up to his feet. The
morning had come now, and people had
Begun to stir. few market wagons
went rumbling by. There were milk
carts in the streets, and sleepy looking
servants in print dresses were show
ing their heads above the area steps.
Douglas moved on with unsteady foot
steps. He passed a policeman, who
looked at him curiously, and of whom
he felt more than half inclined to ask
the way to the nearest police station,
then walked up into the square, where
before him hung red lamp from tall,
red brick house with barred windows.
He peered in at the window.
A fat sergeant was sitting at the table
yawning, the walls were hung with po-
lice bills the room itself the quintes-
sence of discomfort. The place repelled
him strongly. He did not like the look
of the sergeant nor his possible quar-
tiers. After all, why need he hurry? The
day was young, and it was very unlike
ly that he would be recognized. He
strolled away with his hands In his
pockets. lighter-hearted with every
barred windows.
Across the square fat little man
was making strenuous efforts to re-
move the shutter from in front of his
shop. He looked around as Douglas
appeared, wiping the perspiration from
his forehead and regarded him doubt
fully.
VIII yer lend us a hand, guvnor?"
he inquired
Douglas was willing enough. and be-
tween them the job was soon finished.
The little man. who was a confec-
sistant who came from a distance. and
whose laZiness was most phenomenal |
After this morning, however, his serv
ices would be dispensed with. For once |
he had gone little too far. Eight
o'clock ad no sign of him. 1t was
The little man produced a |
few coppers and glanced toward Doug |
las with some hesitation.
Douglas laughed softly.
Il don't want any money. thanks"
he said. but II / could beg a piece of |
bread or cake, I'm really hungry
The little man nodded and hastened |
into the shop. Douglas followed him. /
IF you'd care for a cup of milk"
he remarked. taking a tin from the
door handle. we can manage 1t. No
tea yet. I'm afraid"
Il should enjoy the milk very much |
II you can spare it."
He made curious meal. A little hys-
but stronger at every mouth
full. The little man watched him CO.
verify.
Like a wash?' he inquired.
Rather" Douglass answered. After
all. II was a good start for the day.
He walked out of the shop a quarter
Of an hour later a new man, spruce and
clean. smoking a cigarette, and with |
the terrors of the night far behind
him. The cold water had been like a
sweet, keen tonic to him. The cobwebs
had gone from his brain. Memory had
returned. What a fool he had been,
There was no such person as Douglas
Guest. Douglas Guest was dead. What
need for him to fear?
The greatest desire he had now was
for a morning newspaper, but though
he tried every pocket several times, he
was absolutely penniless. Then he
thought of the free libraries-a sudden
and delightful inspiration. A police
man directed him. He entered a hand
some building, and being early. had
his choice of the great daiIies. neatly
cut and arranged upon rollers for him.