The Greenville journal. [volume] (Greenville, Ohio) 1850-1918, 1916-01-06
TENTH STORY

and you, Donald Porter, l here
by sentence to twenty years at hard
labor"
How clearly those words stayed in
his memory! 1t was all as though
It had happened yesterday. The muir
ky, smelly courtroom, the spectators,
pleasure" bent, the newshounds OF
the great dailies, the striving lawyers
and the purblind judge. He had never
been able to decide from that day to
this whether the judge had been
bought and paid for or no. What
did It matter2 The judge wasn't ele-
mentally responsible. How clearly he
remembered every fluctuation of his
own distrsit mind during that long
trial At first he could do nothing
but laugh at the absurdity of it all
1t concerned him at first only as a
bothersome misunderstanding that
robbed him of his precious time. Then,
as the trial went along, as false wit
nesses were introduced, and things
fixed for his railroading to prison,
and he felt with sudden horror his
nearness to a punishment he didn't
in the least deserve; he had become
panicky at the grossness of the con-
spiracy against him. So cleverly had
Cole looted the bank, so carefully had
he planned it, that it had looked, at
the trial as though he (Porter), had
looted it and made Cole, its president,
his innocent accomplice.
Cole AS he thought that name,
the ugly subtle lines of his face deep
ened, and his fingers twitched nerv-
Ously, as though yearning for that soft
throat they had once squeezed with
In their grasp. The day Coles light
sentence had ended, and he had
walked jauntily amongst his fellow
prisoners on his way to freedom, the
guards had to be quick to save that
throat from those yearning fingers. He
had almost had him that time! Well
he would get him. He had told him
self that time and time again.
This thought, this unquenchable
hate for the man who had so tricked
him was the only thing that kept the
life in his poor emaciated frame-the
one thing that had enabled him to
stand the frightful routine of prison
life these long, weary years. 1t was
no wonder to Don Porter that he re
membered it all so clearly as he did
The whole thing had had daily re
hearsal in his mind, and for years nov
he had awakened each morning to
fresh realization of the unspeakablt
horror of his position, and had gone
to bed each night with curse in his
heart and on his lips for the man whC
had so tricked him-had so spoiled
his life, and the lives of those few
who had put their faith in him. HI
had been very good these past years
Oh. so good!-all but that once. HI
had almost had him that time! Tha
thought always gave him a moment
brief, phantom pleasure that Away
gave way again to despair; despai
that seemed duller, that the momen
before had been touched with light
This despair was despair that +
should not live to be revenged. H
had made mad, insane attack on hir
then. but the guard was too quicl
But that was fully five years ago, an
he had been good since then-goo
with the goodness of child who e2
poets a reward-patient with the p;
tience of a man who sees each da
bring him nearer to his hearts desire
His hearts desire!
1t seemed strange to him at odd mi
ments that he who had always bee
gentle and sensitive, he who had a
ways felt an instructive kinship fc
things gentle and sensitive should no
have for his hearts desire the deaf
Of another man. And yet it was s.
IT was so, and he was jealousy gla
of it. With the best years of his lii
scooped out, literally thrown away
freedom after his release held fort
no promise to him-no promise b.
one.
Edith Hilton had arrived at HI
twentieth year. 1t would be dift1cu
to say how she had arrived at h'
twentieth year, unless one might So
she zigzagged to it. For Edith W;
like most of us, that queer admixtul
of decision and hesitancy that set h,
ever out of the analyzable typ
class, selected and labeled, and ev'
made her next act as uncertain
was the motive of her last
Whatever queer twist nature hi
endowed her mind with, it had ce
tainly been governed by the beautif
when it made her body, for she vi
of that perfection of physical beau
that makes most of us feel must l
feet an inner light, as the exquisi
odor of cologne suggests a delieior
ness of taste.
Her black hair, glossy and cris
undulated in tiny waves down h
white neck as though loath to lea
a head of such delicate loveliness, h
warm brown eyes, pouting lips a.
slim, 1.-THE figure, making an ensemt
that her worldly wise mother tire;
ured and counted on as their ultima
salvation from the awful impecunio
prestige of their social position.
vas a ioke that social position. II