Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1915-06-17

Z
tons before coming under Oscars eye.
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 if 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? 1t is a question which
/ sometimes floats through my mind,
but I did not give it a thought then.
/ / was within sight Of home and Oil
ver's possible presence; and all other
dread was as nothing in comparison
to what I felt at the prospect of meet
ing my boys eye. Ny boys eye! my
greatest dread then, and my greatest
dread still! In my terror of it l walked
as to my doom.
The house, which l had left empty,
I found empty: Oliver had not yet re-
turned. The absolute stiffness of the
rooms seemed appalling. Instructive
ly looked at the clock. 1t 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, l fed to
the front. Opening the door, l looked
out. Not a creature in sight, and not
a 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 its inter
ests at a pause in horror of my deed?
For moment believed it; then more
natural sensations INTERVIEWED, and, re-
1oicing at this lack of disturbance
where disturbance meant discovery,
l stepped inside again, rewound the
clock, and sat down in my own room.
My own room! Was it mine any
longer? It's walls looked strange; the
petty objects of my daily handling
unfamiliar. The change in myself in
fected everything saw. 1 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,
l stretched hands in vain toward all
that I had known and all that had
| been of value to me-
| But as the minutes passed l 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 it not be so in my case? If the
woman continued to remain silent; if
| 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! 1t 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
| l began to count the ticks measuring
off the hour. If thirty minutes more
| passed without a rush from without
might hope. If twenty ?-if ten ?-then
| it was FIVE! then it was
All! The gate had changed to. They
were coming. l could hear steps
voices-a loud ring at the bell. 1
moved slowly toward the front. I
/ 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 when opened the door.
And thus decided my future.
! For in the faces of the small crowd
| which blocked the doorway l detected
| nothing but commiseTation; and when
a voice spoke and heard divers &C.
| cents surcharged with nothing more
grievous than pity. realized that my
| secret was as yet unshared, and, see
! ing that no man suspected me, I 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 down
! by the bridget" | heard little, till
slowly, DULY, like the call of a bell
issuing from a smothering mist, 1
| caught the sound of q name. 1t struck
my ear and gradually it dawned upon
! my consciousness that another man
had been arrested for my crime and
that the safety, the reverence and the
commiseration that were so dear to
me had been bought at price no man
| of honor might pay.
But / was no longer a man of honor.
! l was a wretched criminal swaying
above a gulf of infamy in which had
! seen others swallowed but had never
dreamed of being engulfed myself. /
never thought of letting myself go
not at this crisis-not while my heart
was warm with its resurgence into the
old life.
And so I let pass this opportunity
for confession. Afterwards it was too
late-or seemed too late to my demon
allied Judgment.
My first real awakening to the ex-
traordinary horrors Of my position
| was when I realized that circum-
stances were likely TO force me into