Perrysburg journal. (Perrysburg, Wood Co., O. [Ohio]) 186?-1965, 1915-10-14
"cash the check at the Federal Ma.


the order of Trevor"
1.-TWO hundred tLousandl" Fifty.lt-
ty had always been our split.
Lesson" he said laconically, with
out raising his eyes.
So the dog was 20 be kicked as II
came to lick the hand Of the masteri
Don't you think I've learned my
lesson?" snapped angrily.
Thought so several times, Jim"
He looked up now, his devillsh
blank eyes meeting mine.
My eyes fell, the words that were
on my lips checked back. What could
l do?
"All right" agreed bitterly.
ITO the order OF Trevor" he re-
peated.
That was his way. ! would put the
check in Trevor's name-he knew
that was the bank where l had my
money-and there would never be any
connection with tie robbery of the
old man and j. Michael Garven, tho
respectable broker.
If had cashed it and taken bllls
they would be traced II anything
came up. He knew, also, that II
were arrested l would tell where
took the money. But l was to turn
1t over to Trevor, who had acted as
my partner all the way through.
How Mike was to get it finally was
something that he had probably flg.
ured out Just as slickly, and I knew
it was way that would never be
brought back to him.
II don't want Trevor to work with
me again." / declared emphatically.
"He won't. Been drinking tor
much. He's going to beat 1t quick af-
ter this"
So another worker had become use
less. How long would 1t be before
went the way Of the others-before
/, too, became worthless to this man
who had neither body nor soul?
"Have you got anything on him7"
asked curiously, not that had the
| slightest sympathy for the whisky
faced accomplice who had been forced
| on me.
"This Walton thing"
"What" half rose from my
chair, cold fear clutching my heart.
Why, 1 was
"You, too, jim" He answered my
thoughts, just as he had anticipated
my every action.
Good Heaven, Mike!" / choked,
grabbing at the desk to steady ny
trembling body. You're not going
throw me down!"
"Yes." He answered as he might
have answered a query regarding the
weather you've caused me more
trouble than any other man I ever
had" The dead, monotoned voice con.
demned me as though were not even
present.
staggered back to my chair and
licked my dry lips as tried to form
words in my fear-strictured throat.
"Not for-murder, Mixer" / finally
managed to groan. That was the only
thought l was capable Of thinking as
sat there-the thought OF those dev
il,sh fingcr-prints that pointed to the
electric chair Death! l couldn't die
nowi
"No. The two hundred thousand
fixes that This Walton case will be
all. You'll get a weeks start, any
way"
"Thank God!" ! breathed. and
meant it. Nothing else mattered.
was to live. cared not for the fact
that ever afterward l was to be q
marked man-that the police OF .
thousand cities would have my do
scription and my photograph.
Everything but those finger-prints
And there was pitifll eagerness in m!
voice as thanked my Maker becaus,
was to be allowed to hold my useless
life a short while longer.
"I'm not fearing your failure to &c
that two-hundred thousand" he wen
on. "If there should be any slip-u
I'd feel 1t my duty as respectable
law abiding citizen to tell what know
about those prints the murderer @
O'Hagen SO carelessly left behind"
A abiding citizen!
"You know / didn't do thst!" erie
passionately, useles sly.
"That's something youu have I
settle with the Bertiilon experts
jim"
So he dismissed me.
i think l staggered from the otfir'
know that the rat-faced guard !e
, loose his nasty. sneering laugh. and
whirled on him. There must hay
= been something in my face that ha
never been there before, because h
;. jumped away with an animal-like CT
of terror, his face contorted with b
= |. white-livered fear. snarled som
thing that made him cover farther
the corner as I went out.
In the street I tried to brace U
when / noticed the curious glance
" people shot my way. One look at n
face In a window showed me ne
u lines I'm the smoot othness OF the ski