The Catholic bulletin. [volume] (St. Paul, Minn.) 1911-1995, 1914-11-14


love. Long after the others had fin
ished their thanksgiving and gone, he
remained kneeling with his little red
head buried in his hands. Soon a
sweet-faced, gray-haired woman came
and knelt beside him. And there they
prayed for a long time, unconscious
of any presence but that of their Com
forter. But all the while a man was
| kneeling in a back pew, close to the
wall Had they turned and seen him
they would have been frightened at
the thin, pale face, framed in long
struggling hair, and the feverishly
bright eyes, which were fixed on them
| all the time with an eager stare.
At last the boy and his mother
arose and left the church. The man
! followed and stood by the door mo
ment, watching them as they walked
away. A few young men were loiter.
ing by the door,
"There goes the Brady lad" said
one; Il guess his mothers proud OF
him today. Well, he'll be some com
fort to her anyhow, and make up,
hope, for. the disgrace her husband
brought her
He stopped abruptly and staggered
back to the church-wall from re-
sounding blow in the chest. The pale
stranger stood before him with fury
in his eyes.
"You lie!" he screamed, You're not
fitfor Tom Brady to wipe his feet on"
/ And then, before the other could re-
cover from his amazement, he had
turned and was running, with uncer-
tain pitching steps across the little
plot of ground in front of the parson-
age.
Mary Ann, the housekeeper, appear
ed at Father Moore's door with
white face.
There's a ghost iv man at the
dure, an he won't go way, says he,
without SEEM We at once. He eroaks
like raven and l saw him coughin'
up Blood
Father Moore was not frightened by
Mary AIMS description, but he shrank
a little when he confronted the visitor,
a poor tramp, shaking convulsively,
clutching at his hollow chest and
breathing with the effort of a dying
man.
"Pat-Father Pat" he gasped, Il
must tell ye-;" he was stopped by
racking cough, and put to his lips a
handkerchief that was stained with
blood. The priest drew him into the
parlor and placed him in an armchair
near the CRATE, striving all the time to
remember that peculiar infection of.
| voice.
The coughing ceased at last, and the
man sat very still, with his head
thrown back and his bright eyes half
closed.
"Ah," said Father Moore, finally,
looking closely at>the face, lis it Tim
Brady, indeed? Thank God, Tim,
haYe you at last, after all the years
you kept away. Sure, l thought you
were dead and gone" He looked pity
! ingly at this wreck of man, the black
/ sheep ola fine family, who had broken
his mothers heart before he was twen-
1 ty.a. The. thought of Tip flashed into
! his mind and heeWas glad that the boy
was ignorant of this other sad chapter
of the family history.
Dead and gone-dead and gone,"
the poor man was repeating, Eyes,
soon enough, Father. But Pat-Father
Pat-Ive something-and I must tell
it now. It's about Tom. Put it down,
Father--put it down, and I'll sign my
name to the paper" There was paper
on the table and Father Moore picked
up a pedaG
"Well,s Tim?"
"Ah, Father-let me say it quick
God help me-'tWas killed John Cor
dom"
The priest recoiled with horror in
his face. You? And you let. your
| innocent brother suffer for it all these
years? May God forgive you!"
Il know, I know the poor man
broke in piteously. But let me tell
it, Father. For | haven't long. God
knows I'm that sorry I'd spend long
life in prison to atone but it's too
i late for that. Listen. / came to Tom
Office that night, and found him with
Gordon. When asked him for money
| he refused. I've done all | could for
ye, said he, and it would be crime
for me to help We any more in yer
/ evil ways I'd been drinkin' that
night and the devil was in me. / drew
a pistol and threatened him. Gordon
tried to grab me and shot him dead
/ DrfA T T Il
| Tom grabbed the gun from my hand
All he said to me was, Tim but the
| look on his face as he said it has
haunted me from that day to this.
/ ran from the place, not thinkin' of the
law, but wantin' only to get away
from that look And so the police
came and found the dead man there
1 and Tom with the pistol. read it all
in the papers after 1t was known
that they had some differences about
the strike, and had met to talk it over
that night He wouldn't tell them
i knew in me heart he wouldn't-and
yet was that cowardly l couldn't
give myself up"
The man placed a shaking hand
over his eyes and moaned. For
minute there was no sound but his
hard breathing and the scratching of
pen.
Then / tried to forget all about
it, he went on, and l lived like