Williams news., 1915-08-26
CHAPTER xvII-continued.

neither turned nor moved at any ones entrance. but left it to MT. Black to do the honors and make the best of a sit uation, difficult, if not inexplicable to , all of them. Nor could 1t be seen that any of these men-city officials. promi- nent citizens, and old friends, recog- identity. Beyond a passing glance his way. they betrayed neither curiosity nor interest. being probably sufficient ly occupied in accounting for their own presence in the home of their once revered and now greatly ma Hgned compeer. Judge Ostrander, at- tackled through his son, was about to say or do something which each and every one of them secretly thought had better be left unsaid or undone. Yet none showed any disposition to leave the place; and when, after short, uneasy pause during which all attempts at conversation failed, they heard slow and weighty step ap- preaching down the hall, the suspense was such that no one but MT. Black noticed the quick whirl with which Oliver turned himself about, nor the look of mortal anguish with which he awaited the opening of the door and his fathers entrance among them. No \ None noticed, I say. until. simultaneous ly with the appearance of Judge. Os- trander on the threshold, loud cry swept through the room of Don't! don'tH' and the man, they had barely noticed. flashed by them all. and fell at the judges feet with smothered repetition of his appeal: Don't, fa- ther. don't!" i-r.
 Then, each man knew why he had been summoned there, and knowing, gazed earnestly at these two faces. Twelve years of unappeased longing. of smothered love, rising above doubts, persisting in spite of doubts, were con- centrated into that one instant of mu- tual recognition. The eye of the ia ther was, upon thatiof the son and that of the son upon that of the father and for them. ct least in this first instant of reunion, the years were forgotten and sin, sorrow and on-coming doom ehaced from their mutual conscious ness. sst r.: 2ss:e,efs.s ..iz sCs+Ss { Then the tide of life flowed back into the present, and the judge, motioning to his son to rise,t observed very dig tinctly: y;aaAs Fii5 ar~. EtH
 Don't is an ambiguous word, my son. and on your lips9 at this juncture, may mfslead those whom have called here to hearFthe truth from us and the truth only. You have heard what hap nd rp Aax <7rx long-guarded, alongsuppressed aFsuspi- cion-so sguardeds and so suppressed that had no iintimation of its ex- istenceoevenB found vent at almoment of public indignation; and Isheard you, you, Oliver 2Ostrander, accused to my face of having. ,in some boyish fit of rage struck down the9man for whose death another has long since paid the penalty iThisi you have already been told" ,. rf1e.: q; s..t .7s
 Yes" The word cut sharply through the silence; but the fire with which the yonng man rose and faced them all showed him at his best. "But surely, no person present believes it. No one can who knows you and the principles in which I have been raised. This fellow whom beat as boy has waited flongato start this damnable re- port Surely he will get no hearing from unprejudiced and ii Intelligent mem" fS Vi, saf
 4NThe police have listened to him. MT. Andrews, who is one of the gen. tIemen present, has heard his story and you see that he stands here silent, my son. And that is not all Mrs. Scoville, who has loved you like a mother, longs to believe in your inno- eence, and cannot"
 A low cry from the hall
 It died away unheeded
 And MT. Black, her husbands coun. seI," continued the father. in the firm, low tones of one who for many long days and nights had schooled himself for the duty for this hour, shares her feeling. He has tried not to; but he does. They have found evidences-you know them; proofs which might not have amounted to much had it not been for the one mischievous fact which has undermined public copfl- dence and given point to these attacks. I refer to the life we have led and the barriers we have ourselves raised against our mutual intercourse. These have undone us. To the question, Why these barriers?' I can find no answer but the one which ends this struggle. Succumbing myself. I ask you to do so also. Out of the past comes a voice the voice of Algernon Etheridge, de- manding vengeance for his untimely end. It will not be gainsaid. Not sat isfied with the toll we have both paid fin these years of suffering and repres- sion-unmindful of the hermit's life I have led and of the heart disappnint- ments you have borne, it's cry for pun ishment remains insistent. Gentlemen hush! Oliver. it Is for me to cry Don't now--John Scoville was a guilty mana murderer ana a thief but he did not wield the stick which