Wausau pilot. [volume] (Wausau, Wis.) 1896-1940, 1915-06-01

1ons before coming under Oscars eve.
That sound | have never understood.
IL could not have been Scoville, since
In the short time which had passed he
could not have fed from the point
where l 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 nave We never heard any
thing about it? 1t is a question which
sometimes floats through my mind,
put l did not give it a thought then.
was within sight Of home and Oil
Vers possible presence; and all other
dread was as nothing in comparison
10 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 I had left empty,
found empty; Oliver had not yet re-
turned. The absolute stiffness of the
rooms seemed appalling. Instructive
ly L 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 1 became a guilty one
Appalled, at the discovery, l fed to
the front. Opening the door, l looked
out. Not creature in sight, and not
q 20 10
as lonely and seemingly as forsaken
as the house. Had time stopped here,
too? Were the world ard its inter-
ests at pause in horror of my deed?
For moment believed it; then more
natural sensations inte-vened, and, re-
joicing at this lack of disturbance
where disturbance meant discovery,
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 1 saw. / 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 l 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 Stay his
friend! 1t 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. 1 must not
be found skulking in the dark Then
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. l
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 l left
the hall dark when l opened the door.
And thus decided my future.
For in the faces of the small crowd
which blocked the doorway l detected
nothing but commiseration; and when
voice spoke and l heard divers &C
cents surcharged with nothing more
grievous than pity, l 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 down
! by the bridget" | heard little, till
/ slowly. DULY, like the call of bell
issuing from a smothering mist,
| caught the sound of 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 a price no man
| of honor might pay.
But l was no longer a man of honor.
was 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 l 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 1 realized that circum-
stances were likely to force me into