Cheyenne record., 1915-09-16


my deed was as yet unknown! Might
l not have time for-for what? I did
not stop to think; just pressed on.
saying to myself, Let Providence de-
eide. II l meet any one before reach
| my own door my doom is settled. II
I do not"
And did not. As turned into the
lane from the ravine l heard sound
far down the slope. but 1t was too dis
tant to create apprehension. and
went calmly on. forcing myself into
! my usual leisurely gait, If only to
gain some control over my own emo
tions before coming under Oscars eye.
That sound have never understood
1t could not have been Scoville, since
| In the short time which had passed he
could not have fled from the point
where heard him last into the ravine
below Ostrander lane. But, il not he,
who was it? Or II 1t was he, and
some other hand threw his stick
across my path, whose was this hand
and why have we never heard any
thing about it? 1t is a question which
sometimes floats through my mind,
l was within sight of home and Oil
vers possible presence; and, all other
dread was as nothing in comparison
to what l 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 it walked
as to my doom.
The house, which 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-I do not
say it was at the minute-but near,
very near the time when from an
innocent man l 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
sound to be heard. The road was
as lonely and seemingly as forsaken
as the house. Had time stopped here.
| too? We're the world and its inter-
ests at a pause in horror Of my deed?
| For a moment believed it; then more
natural sensations inte-vened, and, re-
|
| where disturbance meant discovery,
l stepped inside again, rewound the
clock, and sat down in my own room.
My own room! Was it mine any
longer? Its walls looked strange; the
petty objects Of my daily handling,
unfamiliar. The change in myself in
| fected everything 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,
l 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? II the
| woman continued to remain silent; II
for any reason she had not witnessed
the blow or the striker. who else was
there to connect me with an assault
committed 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? Judge slay 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. I must not
be found skulking In the dark Then
I began to count the ticks measuring
of the hour. If thirty minutes more
passed without a rush from without l
might hope. If twenty y?-if ten then
1t was Ave! then it was
| All! The gate had changed to- They
were coming. could hear steps
voices-a loud ring at the bell. l
moved slowly toward the front.
feared the betrayal which my ashy
face and trembling hands might make.
Agitation after the news was to be
expected. but not before! So left
the hall dark when I 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
q voice spoke and heard divers &C
cents surcharged with nothing more
grievous than pity, realized that my
secret was as yet unshared. and. see