Baraboo weekly news. [volume] (Baraboo, Wis.) 1912-197?, 1914-10-15
The UnWritten
Story

Il tell you that l intend to put the
whole story in writing before I die"
IF only you would, john" his wife
urged anxiously. Surely you could
trust me-"
Il know know all that know,
too, that l am doomed man The
doctors did not say so, but they adj
yised me to put my affairs in order.
] have left you twelve thousand
year-yOu deserve it ALL You never
wanted to marry me, I know it was
a sort of forced sale, to save your
family from the ruin that stared them
in the face"
Don't, John, it is too horrible"
I'm only stating facts, and as
say, you have played the game-been
faithful, devoted, patient, long-suffer-
ing even, and you have disliked me
most heartily these three years-for
it has been only three years, mind
yOu-it has lasted"
His voice grew shrill again:
About this man. Just repeat once
again what have already told me
about him"
His name is Cyril Rivers, he has
worked for the firm OF Struction &
Sons, first rate civil engineers. One
morning a very pretty girl who did
typeWriting more especially for his
department of the firm was found
dead i'll her room; she had been muir
dered. Mr.. Rivers had been extreme
ly angry with her the day before be-
cause of a piece of what he consid-
cred deliberate carelessness in typ
ing some figures, a mistake which
] believe cost the firm $4,000. The
raised voices were overheard, and the
incident after the murder was enlarg-
ed and magnified to such an extent
that it was commonly reported that
they had been engaged to each other
the end of it all is that Cyril is
under suspicion. At any day he may
hA D
Arrest of Cyril Rivers" bawled a
neWsboy in the street below, Sen
sational evidence by Charles Lem
ming. Extruh, extruh!"
Jasmine turned to her husband her
face blanched with terror.
do you hear?" she whispered.
Won't you write it all, now? Think
CT the horror for him."
Think of the horror for him." he
Knocked, "and what about me? But
bovo Op+iOp Of 6onOuncipO
me- Why don't you do it, and quick
ly?"
John, you know that I took a sol
emn oath never to reveal the awful
secret which escaped you that night
in your delirium."
"And you mean to keep that oath?"
q most certainly mean to keep it, !"
she repeated steadfastly.
you are worthy of better fate
than to be the wife of a ''
She put a white hand on his mouth.
Don't say it, beseech you, don't
say it."
Does it strike you as curious that
YOU have been my wife for three
years and you do not know that l am
the chief partner in Struction & Sons
and that from that business | draw
my large fortune? l don't take much
active interest in the work. but |
have paid frequent visits to the diff
ferent departments and l know a
good deal about the men employed in
them"
Was it possible he knew about Cy-
Til. the one man of her girIhoOd
dreams, round whose good looking
personality all the romance in her
had twined itself?
Bring me writing materials and
will write, as you wish it, the whole
story" was his unexpected request.
She did as he asked with alacrity.
She did not dare to look over his
shoulder, but as his pen moved on
she counted word after word-easy
enough to do as a characteristic of
his rather peculiar handwriting was
to leave an unusually wide space be-
tween words.
Suddenly the quill pen gave a quick
shutter the hand which held it drop
ned heavily and the old man fell
hack on the bed dead.
She had been wrong about the
counting-the written words had been
thirteen: cyril Rivers murdered the
typist. Charles Lemming and l saw
him do it."