The Rice belt journal. (Welsh, Calcasieu Parish, La.) 1900-19??, 1915-07-16

before the glimmering marble and dr.
rolled my bundle Of wet clay
began my work, then | began to
realize & little the nature Of tne task
had undertaken and to ask myself
whether if | stayed all night | could
finish it to my mind 1t was during
one of these moments of hesitation
that | heard the first growl of distant
thunder.
But the thunder growled again and
my head rose, this time in real alarm
A man-tWo men were entering by
the great front door | heard loud
laugh, and the tipsy exclamation of a
voice knew:
There! shut the door, can't you,
| before it's blown from its hinges
You'll find every thing jolly ere. Wine,
lights, solitude in which to finish our
game and a roaring good opportunity
to sleep afterwards"
The answer I failed to catch. ! was
simply paralyzed by terror. AS the
door of the room opened to admit
them, succeeded in shutting that of
the closet into which | had flung my
self-or almost so. | did not dare to
latch it, for they were already in the
room and might hear me.
This is the spot for u.s." came
in Spencers most jovial tones. Big
table, whisky handy, cards right here
in my pocket. Wait, till l strike a
| light"
A gas jet shot up, then two, then all
that the room contained. "HoW's that?
| What's fash more or less now!"
heard no answer, only the slap of
the cards as they were flung onto the
table; then the clatter of key as 1t
turned in some distant lock.
The bottles were brought forward
and they sat down one on each side
| of the dusty mahogany table. The
man facing me was Spencer, the other
sat with his back my way.
We'll play till the hands point to
three, announced Spencer, taking out
his watch and laying it down where
| both could see it. DO you agree to
that?-unless | win and your funds
go a-begging before that hour"
II agree" The tone was harsh; it
was almost smothered. The man was
staring at the watch; there was a
strange set look to his figure; a paus.
ing as of thOught-of sinister thought,
should now say; then l never
stopped to characterize it; it was fol,
lowed too quickly by loud laugh and
sudden grab at the cards
You'll win! feel it in my bones,
came in encouraging tones from the
rich man. If you do"-here the storm
lulled and his voice sank to an en-,
couTaging whisper-"you can buy the
old tavern up the road. It's going for
a song; and then we'll be neighbors
and can play-play-"
The bills had all gone one way
They fell within Spencer's grasp. Sud
denly hard upon rafting peal which
seemed to unite heaven and earth,
heard shouted out:
"Half-past two! The game stops at
| three"
Damn your greedy eyes!" came
back in growl. Then all was still
fearfully still, both in the atmosphere
outside and in that within, during
which / caught sight of the strangers
hand moving slowly around to his
back and returning as slowly forward
all under cover of the tabletop and a
stack of half-empty bottles.
81 can buy the Claymore tavern,
can I? Well, I'm going to" rang out
into the air as the speaker leaped to
his feet. Take that, you cheat! And
that! And that" And the shots rang
out-one, two, three!
Spencer was dead in his Folly. |
had seen him rise, throw up his hands
and then fall in heap among the
cards and glasses.
Then the man who stood there
alone turned slightly and l saw his
face. / have seen it many times
since; l have seen it at Claymore tav.
ern. He put the weapon back in his
pocket and began gathering up the
money When every bill was in his
pockets he reached out his hand for
the watch. Then saw him smile. He
smiled as he shut the case, he smiled
as he plunged it in after the bills.
Next moment | woke to a realiza-
tion of myself and all the danger of
my own position. had the instinct
to make leap for the window over
my head and clutch at it's narrow sill
In wild attempt at escape.
But the effort ended precipitately
He was coming toward me-a strain
ing, painting figure-half carrying, half
dragging, the dead man who Topped
aside from his arms. My senses
blurred and | knew nothing till on a
sudden they cleared again, and / woke
to the blessed realization that the
door had been pushed against my slen.
der figure, hiding it completely from
his sight, and that this door was now