Williams news., 1915-09-02

in the short time which had passed he could not have fled from the point where I heard him last into the ravine below Ostrander lane But, if not he. who was it? Or if 1t 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 nay mind, but I did not give 1t thought then. l l was within sight of home and Ol1- vers possible presence; and all other dread was as nothing in comparison to what I felt at the prospect of meet ing my boys eye. My boys eye! my greatest dread then, and my greatest dread still! In fnysterror of 1t walked as to my doom.
 The house, which 1 had left empty, I found empty; Oliver had not yet re- turned. The absolute stiffness of the rooms seemed appalling. Instinctiye- ly I looked at the clock. It had stopped. Not at the minute-I do not say 1t was at the minute-but near. very near the time when from an innocent man became a guilty one. Appalled, at the discovery, I fled to the front. Opening the door, looked out. Not creature in sight, and not sound to be heard. The road was as lonely and seemingly as forsaken as the house. Had time stopped here, too? Were the world and It's inter- ests at a pause in 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. l 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, I stretched hands in vain toward all that I had known and all that had | been of value to me.
 | put do lhC hAhotCc PdooSu DSSdu to lose this feeling. Hope, which thought quite dead, slowly revived. 1 Nothing had happened, and perhaps nothing would.
 Men had been killed before, and the slayer passed unrecognized Why might it not be so in my case g. If the woman continued to remain silent eff 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 a mile away? '? No one knew of the quarrel; and if they did. who could be SO daring as to associate one of my name. with, .an action so brutal? A judge slay his friend! It would take evidence of a very marked character to make even my political, enemies believe-that.
 As the twilight deepened I rose from my seat and lit the gas. I must not be found skulking in the dark. Then | began to count the ticks measuring off the hour. If thirty minutes more passed without rush from without l might hope. If twenty? Tiff ten ?-then it was five! then it was !
 An! The gate had changed to. They were coming. could hear steps voices-a loud ring at the bell. I moved slowly toward the front. l feared the betrayal Which my ashy face and trembling hands might make
 Agitation after the news was to be expected, but not before! So I left the hall dark whs1 dpened the door! And thus decided my future.
 For in the faces of the small crowd which blocked the doorway detected nothing but comfniseration; and when voice spoke and I heard OliveraA 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, I fore I 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 dowI
 by the bridge!" l heard little.% til
 slowly, duly. like the call of a bel
 issuing from a smothering mist.
 caught the sound of name. It strucl my ear and gradually it dawned upo1 my consciousness that another nal !, had been arrested for my crime ant } that the safety, the reverence and tn commiseration that were so dear t. , me had been bought at price no maj P of honor might pay.
 J But I was no longer man of honor | was wretched criminal swayin above gulf of infamy in which ha f seen others swallowed but had neve t dreamed of being engulfed myself. l never thought of letting myself go- !, not at this crisis-not while my hear - was warm with its resurgence into tn 3 old life.
 [ And so I let pass this opportunit
 for confession. Afterwards it was to e late-or seemed too late to my demo- d alized judgment
 > My first real awakening to the e,