The Prescott daily news., 1915-06-29

for new life. Alas! As the ef- fects of the, liquor he had taken be-
 gan to wear away a dull lethargy overlook him.
 Lure of fatality, retribution at the
 most critical juncture in his life he slept!
 It was with a mighty start a sharp shock that Warne awoke. His face was blanched with terror as he glanced at the tower clock-it was aft CT midnight!
 The special!" gasped the mortified Warne, trembling in every limb. Then came the dim echoes of a commotion in the direction of the bridge, ham, mering, voices, and among these lat ter accents of excitement and of dis tress.
 Hatless. confused Warne ran down from the tower. A man rushed from the direction of the bridge, downward bound. He shouted to a person scud- ding by him from the opposite direc- tion
 Over a hundred killed-its fright full wreck!"
 After that for nearly week Warne, fugitive. half mad, haunted with constant terror and remorse. scarce knew what he did. He had slept while a train dashing by unsignaled, had gone down to wreck and ruin! Oh! he could figure it all out. collision h-;I l; 1s the sinful, wicked fault.
 Then Canada, to hide far away from friends and the law, for was he not a murderer? And Elsie! an anguishing memory in his heart of hearts. Coward, craven, poltroon, Ronald Warne called himself a score of times
 because he did not go back and face the music like a man. Then a rest less longing for old scenes and back to city where he was little known. All the finer artistic instincts of his nature were blunted and inert. Now,
 after idleness, abject poverty, he had
 secured work.
 It was cheap, unworthy labor for
 man of his former attainments-en-
 larging photographs in the crayon
 line-but it occupied him, it kept the wolf from the door It was dull monotonous work, but there was even more tl'.n he could do.
 The lonely room he coupled was a
 safe hiding place to which his work
 was sent regularly from the firm em. ploying him.
 One day there was a shock. In the
 dusk of early evening a yelled lady was ushered into the poor excuse for
 a studio by the landlady MT. Wayne" spoke the latter,
 this is young lady who sent some
 work to your firm and you have it. l She is to leave the city tomorrow,
 and wishes to hurry up the order, if | possible
 A great gasp broke from the art. | ists lips as his visitor cast aside her
 veil.
 It is a picture of a relative" she | began, and then-"Oh, Ronald!" Yes, fate had thus strangely thrown | Elsie Barker ;cross his path again, | for it was she--the same sweet-faced | maiden of old, but richly attired In 1 her gentle tones was manifest inter
 est the warmth of genuine friendship, perhaps something more She stood rooted spellbound Then
 a pitying look crossed her face. He hung his head, self-condemned. She
 advanced and took his hand Ronald" she said and her tones stirred his inmost heart-"what does it all mean?"
 What did it mean?-crime, murder!
 He shrank from her, abject and
 crushed. In broken tones he qua. 1 vered his miserable story. "OE, why did you not come to me-" she cried. Tt was not your
 fault. The wreck was on the road that
 crosses ours just beyond Ahe bridge,
 and was caused by one of their own
 broken rails. Our trains went through l all right, and even the truth about my father was not learned Poor,
 dear friend what have you not suf.
 feredi"
 Innocent, a great load was lifted | from Ronald Warne's mind. Like child he sank to chair, like child | he wept.
 Father is no longer with the road"
 went on Elsie. Are you not glad we inherited quite a fortune, and | and"
 She paused there. Then their eyes
 met. Her face was pleading, tell-tale.