Pierre weekly free press. (Pierre, S.D.) 1889-19??, 1915-08-05
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"a
to have been born to a somewhat less
leXalted state than your own?"
No. Not just that" said Eric mean
ingly. "Who is your father?"
Inc n small word was like a blow
in the face. is" he said,-not was
"Why-why, what do you mean?'
stammered Payson. the blood rushing
to his cheeks. My father is dead.
think he is alive? That he is--GooG
Lord, o don't suspect that he is g
criminal. a fugitive, or something OF
that sort!"
He died before you can remember
cried Eric, his eyes cleaning.
yes. He was a sailing-master. He
took a boat out of this port for years
One night he was lost in a gale. His
BODY neve came ashore. He's lying
out there in the Atlantic somewhere,
with all the others who are buried in
that vast grave. For you know, Mr.
Midthorne, that the Atlantic is a grave
yard"
Eric vas suddenly conscious of a dis
concerting directness in the other
mans words. 1t seemed to him that
there was a significant, even hooking
CLEAN in the greyish eyes.
A chill crept swiftly into his blood.
He felt the icy moisture starting from
every pore in his body. Was it pos
sible that Payson knew? Was ne so
close to Adam Carr that the great Sec
ret had been given into his keeping
and for what sinister purpose? To be
used as a threat, as a club?
With an almost visible effort, he re-
gained control Of his wavering forti-
tude. There was the chance, he argued
inwardly. that Payson's remark had no
sinister meaning. He would not be so
easily caught.
Are you quite sure your father is
lying at the bottom of the Atlantic %
he asked, after the briefest hesitation.
Payson scowled. See here, Mid
thorne. l don't like your manner. What
are you driving at? My father, Captain
schooner, the Lanigan. Three Of the
crew were picked up alive. Two of
them are inmates today of the Sea-
mans Home. There is no mistake. He
was an honest nan. and a God-fearing
one. He Vas not a gentleman, accord
must have been a good man, for my
mother has prayed that I might grow
UP to be like him." He came a step
nearer. "What have you heard? Has
anyone told o that he did not go
down with the Lanigan? Has anyone
dared to say that he took that way Of
deserving my mother n me?"
How old We're you when the ship
went DOWN." demanded Eric, ignoring
the questions.
What has that to do with it."
Will you answer the question or
not?"
Certainly. I was not more than six
months old. they tell me. My mother
has told me the story a hundred times
overall about the black night and the
savage storm in the April of that year.
Adam Carr has told me Of my father.
He was his closest friend. He always
stayed at u house when he was in
him always. He can tell you that my
father was an honest nan and that he
did go down with the Lanigan. l am
not ashamed of my father. By heaven,
l hope 1 am like him. He was a mani
There could be no doubt as to his
sincerity. II there was a mystery in
connection with his origin, he was
plain to Eric that the secret mumblings
OF gossiping t~ownspeople had never
reached his ears; it was equally plain
that PaySon had never noted the re-
semblance of himself to Adam Carr.
In spite of himself, Eric felt a sud
den, sharp pity for this tall. cookbook
ing chap.
Il have the right to inquire, you'll adj
init that, Payson," he said, less ar
bitrarily.
Perhaps you're right" said the 9TH
er, biting his lip as he stared at the
ground through narrowed lids. Mary,
God bless her, would ave taken me as
| am, without a single question. It's
just as we'll that there is someone to
ask questions for her. Good morning,
Mr.. M%idthorne.'
Eric watched him until his strong,
erect figure disappeared at a bend in
the lane. Vaguely conscious that he
had not" M 1fF -y;kH Fl,,S>- - =.
u fru1tless Interview, he damned his
hands into his pockets and, with low
cred chin, turned to re-enter the cot
tage.
There was a new kind Of terror tug
ging at his heart. To what end was
Adam Carr carrying his mysterious
game?
familiar laugh came to his ears. lie
stopped in his racks as If turned to
stone. F'or years he had been waiting
for a repetition Of that never-to-be-
forgotten sound. Somehow he knew it
would come again. He knew that it
signs of him who laughed. The sound
was Of the cir itself; it enveloped him;
ne could reach o. his hand and ouch
the laugh itself! He was breathing
that CHASTITY sound, he was inhaling it!
His Knees shook. He could feel the
0AN lac hCdu AASCs as IL
to the freezing current that raced
through him. His glazing ayes searched
among the leafless branches Of the
trees.
Again came the low laugh, this time
apparently from the interior Of the cot
tage. With a cry. he sprang to the
door and threw it open, stopping on the
threshold to peer into the dim interior
OF he old mans home.
In q rocking chair, back in the dark
est corner Of the room, sat a long,
shadowy figure. A groan broke in the
young mans dry throat. It was a
familiar figure. He had seen it in his
dreams.
AS he fell back against the door
lamb. the figure arose from the chair.
II seemed to shrink In size as he glared
at It. It moved toward him.
Good morning. Eric" said Adam
Carr. emerging into the light that came
through the open doorway.
Good God!" broke from Eric's stiff
fened lips. He staggered to a chair
and dropped heavily into 1t.
you seen a ghost?" asked
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