The Bridgeport evening farmer., 1915-05-22

passed through the bare hall and up the stairs and so came into what had aforetime been the dra wing room of the mansion, which now patiently serv- ed as the living room for a bachelor of varied and curious tastes. Thus ar rived at home the old man threw off the light coat which he had been wear ing, tossed 1t /carelessly on a chair, threw the sIouch hat beside it, then with a delft movement stripped the gray locks from his head and with gesture of relief cast the wig disdain- fully from him. Freed from this sim pie disguise, that which remained of the unmasking process was simple enough. The man merely straighten- ed himself with a sigh of relief as he inhaled deeply till the lungs were swollen to their full capacity. Now, in the metaAorphosbs of a moment, where had been merely slight form, with rounded shoulders bent under the weight of years, there was revealed a sta1wart man in the maturity of his yigors, broad of shoulder, deep chest ed, thin of flank, whose 1.-the erectness told of an agile strength beyond the usual. Nor was the transformation that of form alone. Even as theshort figure of the old man had grown abruptly into | six feet of sturdy manhood, so, too, the vacuous face merged subt1y, surpris- ingly, into a countenance alert and masterful in it's expression. The eyes that had seemed dim under the droop- ing of heavy lids were widely opened and in their clear gray shone the fires of a lively intelligence. He crossed the room to couch that stood against the wall and there dropped down in an abandonment of grief, for this was Andrew Allen, whoss younger brother had that day been sentenced to death for the crime of murder.
 i Little by little the expression on the mans face changed. Where had been the extreme of grief grew, slowly, yet implacably, a grimmer mood and one more evil. The lines of the strong, mobile face set themselves to a wrath that was all pervasive. Andrew Allen had bound himself to aVenge his brother.
 What in another might have been only a helpless fury against malignant fate became in this man a purposeful 1 wrath against the one who had acted as the main instrument of destiny in devoting Henry Allen to death. Throughout the proceedings against his brother Andrew had cherished an eyer increasing hatred of Wainwright, the districS attorney. He regarded this public official as directly responsible for the death penalty. To his mind, warped perhaps by a great affection. l which held the accused slayer guilt less of any crime, it had seemed that Wainwright pursued "a course of in tolerable cruelty toward the innocent for the sake of a vau1ting personal Ior that the prosecutor should thus juggle with life in order to win the p1audits of the crowd. Undoubtedly had Wain- wright been less zealous in his con duct of the case the accused would
 have suffered a comparatively light sentence or perhaps have been acquit- ted
 Presently Andrew Allen sprang to his feet and began pacing hurr1ed1y l b and fro, muttering to himself dis
 tointedIy the while. Though man of infinite precautions, he had now no
 fear lest he be overheard as from time to time he voiced fragmentary sugges-
 tions of the ideas seething in his fev-
 erish brain. In that house there was
 none to listen. He lived alone, ,abso-
 luteIy; not even a woman came on oc- casion to set the place in order.
 Andrew ceased his nervous pacing
 about the room presently and prepared
 for going out He proceeded to the
 steps of a dfsreputably dilapidated
 house and climbed three flights of
 stairs to the top story, where he fitted
 a key to the door of the back room
 and entered, carefully closing and lock
 ing the door behind him. moment
 later the gaslight hared from the
 match he had struck and showed the
 desolate wall paper, threadbare carpet, thin, hummocky bed, rickety table, chairs and washstand. The whole air of the place was repellent, worse than poverty stricken.
 Only two things in the room tended . in any wise to contradict the general l impression of squalor. On the wabbly
 table stood a typewriter; to one wall a
 telephone was attached. It was the
 typewriter that first engaged Andrews attention. The machine was small
 very serviceable, but of a cheaper sort in which the printing was done from , a type wheel having three bands of characters. This wheel was readily detac achable, and now the operators first care was to remove it from it's shaft
 and to bestow it in a pocket of his coat. From pasteboard box beneath the table he procured another type wheel, one that had never been used and adjusted this to it's place on the machine. Then he inserted sheet o1 an ordinary cheap typewriter papel