The midland journal., 1915-05-21

That sound have never understood
1t could not have been Scoville. since
in the short time which had passed he
could not have fed from the point
where heard him last into the ravine
below Ostrander lane But. If not he.
who was it? Or IL It was he. and
some other hand threw his stick
across my path. whose was this hand
and why have we never heard any.
thing about it? It is a question which
sometimes floats through my mind.
but ! did not give 1t thought then.
I was within sight Of home and Oil
ver's possible presence: and all other
dread was as nothing in comparison
to what felt at the prospect of meet
ing my boys eye. My boys eye! my
greatest dread then. and my greatest
dread still! in my terror OF 1t ! walked
as to my doom.
The house, which had left empty,
| found empty: Oliver had not yet re-
turned The absolute stiffness OF the
rooms seemed appalling Instructive
~ | looked at the clock It had
stopped Not at the minute do not
say it was at the minute-but near,
very near the time when from an
innocent man became a guilty one
Appalled, at the discovery. fed to
the front. Opening the door, looked
out Not creature in sight. and not
sound to be heard. Tho road was
as lonely and seemingly as forsaken
as the hou5e. Had time stopped here.
too? Were the world ard its inter-
ests at a pause il horror Of my deed?
For a moment believed it; then more
natural sensations inte -vened, and. re-
joicing at this lack Of disturbance
where disturbance meant discovery.
I stepped inside again. rewound the
clock, and sat down in my own room.
My own room! Was It mine any
longer? Its walls looked strange: the
petty objects Of my daily handling.
unfamiliar. The change in myself In
fected everything saw. I might have
been in another mans house for all
connection these things seemed to
have with me or my life. Like one
set apart ON an unapproachable shore.
| stretched hands In vain toward all
that had known and all that had
been OF value to me n.
But as the minutes passed began
to lose this feeling. Hope. which |
thought quite dead, slowly revived
Nothing had happened. and perhaps
nothing would
Men had been killed before. and the
slayer passed unrecognized Why
might 1t not be SO In my case? II the
woman continued to remain silent: II
for any reason she had not witnessed
the blow or the striker. who else was
there to connect me with an assault
committed a quarter of mile away
No one knew OF the quarrel: and IL
they did. who could be so daring as
to associate one OF my name with an
action so brutal? A Judge slay his
friend! II would take evidence OF a
very marked character to make even
my political enemies believe that.
AS the twilight deepened ! rose from
my seat and lit the gas must not
be found skulking In the dark Then
| began to count the ticks measuring
of the hour. II thirty minutes more
passed without rush from without
might hope. II twenty ?--if ten ?-then
it was five! then It was
All! The gate had changed to. They
we're coming could hear steps
voices-a loud ring at the bell /
moved slowly toward the front. Z
feared the betrayal which my ashy
face and trembling hands might make.
Agitation after the news was to be
expected. but not before! So left
the hall dark when opened the door.
And thus decided my future
For In the faces Of the small crowd
which blocked the doorway I detected
nothing but commiseration: and when
a voice spoke and heard divers ac-
cents surcharged with nothing more
grievous than pity. I realized that my
secret was as yet unshared. and. see
ing that no man suspected me. fore
bore to declare my guilt to anyone.
This sudden restoration from sound
less depths into the pure air of respect
and sympathy confused me: and be
yond the words KILLED! Struck do~ o
by the bridge!- I heard little tIll
slowly. duly. like the call OF q bell
issuing from a smothering mist 4
caught the sound OF name Il struck
my ear and gradually 1t dawned upon
my consciousness that another man
had been arrested for my crime and
that the safety. the reverence and the
commiseration that were 80 dear to
me had been bought at price no man
OF honor might pay
But was no longer man OF honor
was wretched criminal swaying
above gulf of infamy In which I had
seen others swallowed but had never
dreamed Of being engulfed myself I
never thought Of letting myself go-
not at this crisis-not while my heart
| was warm with its resurgence into the
old life.
And 80 I let mass this opDortunifv