River Falls journal. [volume] (River Falls, Pierce County, Wis.) 1872-2019, 1914-06-18

SIR AAON Adny VGdIS ill u6 Sdy a
could not hear him"
The officer looked at him ~uneasily and
hesitated.
Life Imprisonment"
Montgomery staggered and the off
Ger released his grip and caught him
under the arms, thinking that he would
faint.
There was a sob, hard and bitter.
and then the young man cried IS a
child would cry when an ugly temper
ed servant took from the nursery floor
its toys newly given.
The sentence of the court had swept
from him the toys of young manhood
and had cast them as grass into the
furnace. He would never hear the
sound of a womap's voice, nor the
sound Of laughter by man or child. He
would never again see the magic line
where sky and sea or woodlands meet.
Even the seasons of the year were
taken from him. The beauties of na-
ture familiar TO the eyes of a whole
some country boy, the spread of smiling
fields, tasSeled corn waving in the
wind, bending roads. glimpses of the
sunlit river through foliage, quiet lit
tie gardens in front of quiet little
houses, were all taken from him as if
the tail of a comet loaded with cyano-
gen had swept the earth and had wiped
out all the loneliness that God had
fashioned for his children.
AS the sentenced prisoners were be-
ing taken from the TombS for the jour
neys to the states various prisons De-
tective Lieutenant Michael Kearney
sat in the office of his inspector and
received the congratulations for his tx
cellent work in the Montgomery case.
Inspector RanScombe looked over his
list of assignments for the day and
found nothing worth the time and skill
Of his favorite man hunter.
You have a day off, Mike" he told
the detective.
Kearney rose. Saluted and left head
quarters. A man absolutely unappre-
ciative of the ordinary pleasures of
life, he found himself at a loss what
to do. There was only one thing worth
while on a day off-his little fiat in
Oliver street. He made his way home.
He rang the bell in the vestibule. The
lock clicked and he entered.
K~earney mounted the stairs and
opened his mothers kitchen door with
out knocking.
"Well Nike" exclaimed Mrs. Kear-
ney in surprise, what brings you
home at this time Of dayY"
Il gotta day off, :" he told her. ''Ye're
%scrubbing the kitchen iure again.
When1l you be done?'
pretty soon, Mike. You go in the
parlor and make yourself comfortable,
and I'll bring the beer and your pipe"
He did as she babe him. and she fol-
lowed. clearing off a center table and
placing his beer, pipe and tobacco on it.
He tried several chairs. They were
all stihiy tufted-bought for "compa-
n.y." He could adjust himself to none
Of them comfortably. He returned to
the kitchen.
Gould We spread down some bagging
so l can stay in here?' he asked.
Sure. lad" she replied from her
knees. I'm finished now"
She made him comfortable in his old
chair by the window. He was engag-
cd in balancing himself at his favorite
angle when be noticed something black
on the end of the kitchen table.
whats that, old ladyY' he asked
ruriously.
The mothers face paled.
He reached over and picked 1t up
1t was a flmy and torn veil. Beneath
it was Il little black fan.
"She forgot them-Mrs. Montgom-
cry" explained the mother, taking the
two articles from the hand of her son.
''The poor little woman. the poor little
woman!'
She hurried with them to her bed
ROOM. which opened on the kitchen.
When she returned and began shaking
down the ashes in the stove she sighed.
Its terrible, Mike" she said. "The
poor old mither is left out in the world
TO starve or die of q broken heart.
Blessed Mother in Heaven, look after
her"
Some of the coziness of the room
seemed to leave it. Was there chill In
the air, or did he just imagine it? He
closed the window back Of him.
"The evidence was all one way" he
grunted. 81 didn't try him. / wasn't
the judge or the jury. / didn't decide
whether he was guilty or innocent.
That amt my job. My job is to get
the evidence for the prosecution"
He tried to think of something to
say that would turn the conversation
TO some more agreeable subject, but he
was a one idea man, and there was no
fancy in him.
From the open door Of his mothers
bedroom came a soft, rufling sound.
1t startled him. =
"What's thatY' he demanded.
"It's that divil Of a kitten, Mickey"
she told him.
AS If in answer for himself. Mrs.
Kearney's mouser rolled into the kitch.
en-, shaping and playing with O black
object fhe Mourning fan of Mrs Mont