The Lakeland evening telegram. (Lakeland, Fla.) 1911-1922, 1915-04-30

Warne. trembling In every limb. Then
came the dim echoes Of a commotion
In the direction Of the bridge, ham,
mering, voices. and among these lat
ter accents Of excitement and of dis
tress.
Hatless, confused, Warne ran down
from the tower. A man rushed from
the direction Of the bridge, downward
bound. He shouted to person scud-
ding by him from the opposite direc-
ton:
Over hundred killed-it's fright.
full wreck"
After that for nearly a week Warne,
q fugitive, half mad, haunted with
constant terror and remorse, scarce
knew what he did. He had slept while
a train dashing by unsignaled. had
gone down to wreck and ruin! Oh!
he could figure 1t all out! a collision
at the bridge, and his the blame his
the sinful, wicked fault!
Then Canada, to hide far away from
friends and the law, for was he not q
murderer? And Elsie! an anguishing
memory in his heart Of hearts.
Coward. craven, poltroon, Ronald
Warne called himself a score of times
because he did not 60 back and face
the music like a man. Then a rest
less longing for old scenes and back
to city where he was little known.
All the finer artistic instincts of his
nature were blunted and inert. Now,
after idleness, abject poverty, he had
secured work.
1t was cheap, unworthy labor for
man Of his former attainments-en-
larging photographs in the crayon
line-but it occupied him, 1t kept the
wolf from the door.
1t was dull, monotonous work. but
there was even more than he could do.
The lonely room he occupied was q
safe hiding place to which his work
was sent regularly from the firm en-
ploying him.
One day there was a shock. In the
lusk of early evening a yelled lady
vas ushered into the poor excuse for
a studio by the landlady.
Mr.. Wayne" spoke the latter.
this is young lady who sent some
work to your firm and you have it.
She is to leave the city tomorrow,
and wishes to hurry up the order, il
possible
"A great gasp broke from the art
lists lips as his visitor cast aside her
v veil.
1T Is picture of a relative" she
began, and then-"Oh, Ronald"
Yes, fate had thus strangely thrown
Elsie Barker across his path again
for 1t was she-the same sweet-faced
maiden of old, but richly attired In
her gentle tones was manifest inter
est. the warmth of genuine friendship
perhaps something more.
She stood rooted, spellbound. Their
a plying look crossed her face. HI
; hung his head, self-condemned She
} advanced and took his hand
Ronald" she said. and her tonel
stirred his Utmost heart-"what doe!
1t all mean?"
What did it mean?-crime! murder
He shrank from her, abject ant
; crushed. In broken tones he qua
vered his miserable story
"Oh. why did you not come Il
: me?" she cried 1T was not you
. fault. The wreck was on the road tina
: crosses ours just beyond the bridge
: and was caused by one Of their owl
broken rails. Our trains went through
all right, and even the truth abou
my father was not learned. Pool
dear friend. what have you not sui
fered!"
Innocent! . great load was LITE
- from Ronald Warne's mind. Like
child he sank to q chair. like a chill
(. he wept.
IA Father is no longer with the road,
ia went on Elsie. Are you not glad
r. we inherited quite fortune. and
N and"
4. She paused there. Then their eye
met. Her face was pleading, tell.tale
q. When she went away from the din
II studio, she left kiss upon his lipf
!, and in HIS hqart-hOnet