Bisbee daily review., 1914-10-15

wife srd ihe people be lived among -
 "Dyuh mean to say that you let him make chat sacrihce3"
 The inspectors face was splotched with the purple Of a mighty wrath
 "I didn't know he was going Co do lt. boss" Kearuey replied in a choking voice. "1d "a thrown down my job before I'd a stood for that"
 Banscombe brought his right fist down on his desk and shot out his low CT jaw as he stared at Kearney.
 "You bloodhoundr he half screamed.
 Kearney sat down in chair beside the desk and half covered his face with his big red paws.
 Boss he groaned Montgomery was the kind of man who would be crucifed for those he loved"
 How did you trail him?"
 ' vent to his home town and found tcat his mother was dead, explained The man hunter "l looked up the cemetery and found that the keeper was being paid for caring for the g-ave. I traced the letters inclosing -he money and found that the son'-
 Didn't you have heart enough or brains enough to stopY
 When l reached him | wanted 10 stop. l wanted to stop. boss. But you trained me never to let up"
 Rauscombe kicked back his chair and paced the room. holding i'm his hands the telegram he had taken from his desk. He shuddercd when he paus- cd before his sleuth whom he had trained so well
 Read that" he said, handing him the telegram.
 Kearney scratched his head as he read the words of this message:
 Tucson. Arizona. Ranscombe, Chief Detectives New York: Harry Gutzler. old yegg. dying here of consumption, confesses murder of True blood, bank watchman. New York. eleven years ago. Ex-convict named Hawkins found him in bad lands and brought him in. ALsOP, Chief
 The inspector had gone to a window and was staring out Of it abstractedly. Kearney read the telegram a second and then a third time. He looked up at the broad back of his chief. placed the telegram on his desk and moved gingerly from the room. He did not lift his eyes or speak a word as he passed Jimmy Dunn. perched round and cherub-like on a chair at the big desk Of the assembly room. His travel ing bag lay outside He picked it up without stopping and departed from headquarters.
 Kearney took trolley to Duane street and transferred to a horse car to the farther east side.
 The dust and grime of long travel were still on him. In the return from the last lap in the long man hunt that had taken eleven years he had had too many things to think over to bother about wash basins and combs and brushes. On the stoop of the old fash toned house in Oliver street he found a group of old Irish women of the ueighborhood He knew their faces and nodded to them.
 They huddled in a tighter knot of worried humanity
 Whats the matterY he demanded. We're none tee soon" said one of them,
 The others begaL to croon softly to themselves. He knew what that meant
 The grip fell from bis hand, but he steadied himself and entered the house. mounting the stairs slowly. He walk ed into the kitclren of the little flat and found it spOtlessly clean. An old woman sat in a chair by the window, the beads of a rosary pass ing through her withered fingers. She was not his mother! KeaFney removed his hat and cross 1 ed the threshold of his old mothers bedroom. She lay in bed. and at first he thought her asleep.
 Her hands, like brown wax. were clasped about the last copy of the Key of Heaven" he had bought for her.
 Beside the head of the bed two holy candles burned on a little table A priest knelt on the floor, praying for ! the soul of the departed.
 Kearney fell upon his knees and l crossed himself once, twice and third ! time A cry of distress came from the bot | tommost reaches of his heart in a low, ! pltifully sad whine. Ale, ale. aie"' it sounded.
 l. was the plalnt of an animal with q soul
 iiH CHAPTER XVI.
 Restitution.