Perrysburg journal. (Perrysburg, Wood Co., O. [Ohio]) 186?-1965, 1915-05-20

Tnen ne nOllereu ana TORE nlnSel1
until he got plum crazy!"
A week later the elder Crossman
died, and from the vague sentences
which his lips mumbled at the last,
1t was plain he had repented on the
night of his struggle with the woman
and found that in making her custo-
dian of his property he had given the
same irrevocably away. 1t was this
realization which hal crushed the
mind and slain the body of the old
farmer.
Eliza Grigsby, shaken and aged
somewhat, but still repellant to all
and apparently sufficiently unto her
self, moved about the old house and
garden engaged in commonplace
tasks. In four months she had gained
what Crossman had given his life
and soul to win. The creditors Of
the late farmer had given up hope.
They believed in Toms Intentions,
but doubted his capacity. They
promised that Eliza Grigsby would
die alone-when her time came
even as she had lived.
But the inner life of the woman
was beseiged. Threats and the hate
of man were impotent to move her,
but there had come an intangible
horrible, investment which length
ened her nights into long drawn ter
rors. There was no one in the house
but Tom; and yet she had heard her
name called in a woman's voice.
Again and again the summons
came again and again Tom protested
that he heard nothing. Once, lying
awake, she felt drops of icy water
upon her face, and as she leaped
from bed, the door leading into the
kitchen swung shut and locked 1T
self. Tom was in the front part Of
the house, and said the wind had
wrought the miracle Of the kitchen
door.
No matter how securely the outer
doors were barred, on certain morn
ings they were found open. One fore
noon as she stood in the doorway she
heard the passing children say that
her house was haunted. The words
clutched her with terrible meaning.
There was no one to whom she
could appeal. She felt volume of
hate from every passerby. For years
she had laughed at these glances,
| strong in her bulwark of worldly
possessions. But money could not
help her now. The stimulating pois-
Oh of it had left her veins, but she
was q moral leper in the eyes of the
world still, She lay trembling in
the dark one still, hot summer night,
| conscious of presence in the
| kitchen. Plainly she heard the
breathing of Tom in the front room,
Sc the sounds came not from him.
| The kitchen door swung open softly
and there was a horrible sound, a
moaning sigh from the dark. Then
| all power bereft the limbs of the
woman and distended eyes fastened
upon white filmy figure in the
aperture.
Il am the wife of John Crossman
whom you murdered! Why will you
not let me rest?" The words were
long drawn, family uttered. From q
woman, dead or alive, they surely
we're. The unearthly question was
repeated: why will you not let me
rest?"
Eliza's hands futtered before hel
and there was a rattle from hel
throat. Inexorably the question came
forth again:
at-can-I-do?" the tor
tured woman mumbled at last.
Pay Johns Crossman's debts!"
Yes, 2es,"
"To-murrow!"
Yes, yes.'
"If you do not | will come with
John Crossman tomorrow night"
81 will. Oh. so away" Eliza i'm
plored. The figure vanished.
|
The next day was one of grea
surprises in the little country town
First, Eliza Crossman drove down t,
the bank and took up the notes o
her late husband. She seemed yer,
feeble and on the verge of a nervou
outbreak. Second, the news CAM
out that Tom Crossman and hi
Mary had been married three month
before. a week after the old man ha,
died. in fact. Third, 1t became whis
pered about that in some mysteriou
way Mary was responsible for tn
softening of Eliza Crossman's heart