The Ely miner. [volume] (Ely, Minn.) 1895-1986, 1914-07-24
CHAPTER XVII.

CHAPTER XVII.
Once More at Burton's Inn.
Again Sara Wrandall found herself
in that never-to-be-forgotten room at
Burton's inn. On that grim night in
March she had entered without fear
or trembling because she knew what
was there. Now she quaked with
mighty chill of terror, for she knew
not what was there in the quiet, now
sequestered room. Burton had told
them on their arrival after a long
drive across country that patrons of
the inn invariably asked which room
it was that had been the scene of
the tragedy, and, on finding out, re-
fused point-blank to occupy it. In
consequence he had been obliged to
transform it into sort of store and
baggage room.
Sara stood in the middle of the
murky room, for the shutters had long
been closed to the light of day, and
looked about her in awe at the hetero-
geneous mass Of boxes, trunks, bun
dies and rubbish, scattered over the
floor without care or system. She had
closed the door behind her and was
quite alone. Light sneaked in through
the cracks in the shutters, but so
meagerly that it only served to In
crease the gloom. A dismantled bed
stead stood heaped up in the corner
She did not have to be told what bed
it was. The mattress was there too,
rolled up and tied with a thick garden
rope. She knew there were dull, ugly
blood stains upon it. Why the thrifty
Burton had persevered in keeping
this useless article of furniture, she
could only surmise. Perhaps it was
held as an inducement to the morbidly
curious who always seek out the grue-
some and gloat even as they shudder.
For long time she stood immov-
able just inside the door, recalling
the horrid picture of another day. She
tried to imagine the scene that had
been enacted there with gentle, low
able Hetty Glynn and her whilom
husband as the principal characters.
The girl had told the whole story of
that ugly night. Sara tried to see 1t
as it actually had transpired. For
months this present enterprise had
been in her mind: the desire to see
the place again, to 60 there with old
impressions which she could leave be-
hind when ready to emerge in new
frame of mind. It was true that she
meant to shake of the shackles of a
horrid dream, to purge herself of the
last vestige of bitterness, to cleanse
her mind of certain thoughts and mem
cries.
Downstairs Booth waited for her.
He heard the story of the tragedy from
the innkeeper, who Grossly maintained
that his business had been ruined.
Booth was vaguely impressed, he knew
not why, by Burton's description of
the missing woman. I'D say she was
about the size of Mrs. Wrandall her
self, and much the same figger," he
said, as he had said thousand times
before. "My wife noticed it the min
ute she saw Mrs. Wrandall. Same
height and everything"
A bell rang sharply and Burton
glanced over his shoulder at the indi-
Gator on the wall behind the desk. He
gave a great start and his jaw sagged.
Great Scott!" he gasped. A curl
Gus grayness stole over his face. Its
its the bell in that very room. My
soul, what can"
Mrs. Wrandall is up there, isn't
she" demanded Booth.
ct amt rung since the night he
pushed the button for Oh, gee!
You're right. She is up there. My,
what scare It gave me-" He wiped
his brow. Turning to boy. he COM
manded him to answer the bell. The
boy went slowly, and as he went he
removed his hands from his. pockets.
He came back an instant later, more
swiftly than he went, with the word
that 'the lady up there" wanted Mr..
Booth to come upstairs.
She was waiting for him in the open
doorway. A shaft Of bright sunlight
from a window at the end of the hall
fell upon her. Her face was colorless,
haggard. He paused for an instant to
contrast her as she stood there in the
pitiless light with the vivid creature
he had put upon canvas so recently.
She beckoned to him and turned
back into the room. He followed.
This is the room, Brandon, where
my husband met the death he de-
served" she said quietly.
Deserved? Good heavens, Sara,
are you"
81 want you to look about you and
try to picture how this place looked
on the night of the murder. You have
a vivid imagination. None of this
rubbish was here. Just bed, table
and two chairs. There was a carpet
on the floor. There were two people
here, man and woman. The WON
an had trusted the man. She trusted
him until the hour in which he died.
Then she found him out. She had
come to this place, believing it was
to be her wedding night. She found
no minister here. The man laughed at
her and scoffed. Then she knew. In
horror, shame, desperation she tried
to break away from him. He was
strong. She was a good woman:
virtuous. honorable woman. She saved