Harrisburg telegraph. [volume] (Harrisburg, Pa.) 1879-1948, 1917-08-09
your brother done to Mary Brown

your brother done to Mary Brown
that you killed him for doing?"
Curse you! What's that to you?"
snarled the man as he sprang up
from beside the gouverneur and
leaned, crouched and painting,
against the bars of the cage in which
the three of us were enclosed. Who
are you. anyway? My state has said
l was to swing for killing him, and
there's no more to question about 1t.
II am the governor of your state,
answered that Gouverneur Faulkner
as he rose and stood, tall and conf
manding, before the poor human be-
ing who was covering as dog that
had felt the lash of whip. " OF
are my son because you are a son
of the state of Harpeth, and as rep
resentative of that state l am going
to exercise my guardianship and il
possible prevent the state from the
crime of taking your life If you do
not deserve punishment"
I'm condemned by the laws of the
state. You can't go back on that,
governor or no governor" made an
swer the man. with a painting of
misery in his voice.
LAS you know, there are certain
unwritten laws which have more IN
fiuence in some cases as to the guilt
of a murderer than any on the stat
ute books" said the Gouverneur
Faulkner with very great slowness,
so that the poor human dog might
comprehend him. If you killed your
brother to save-save Mary Brown
from worse than death then you
have not the right to demand eXecu-
ton from your state to shelter ner
from publicity when she is no longer
in danger of anything worse. Did
you get to her in time to save her
or"
Yes, I did and had. Curse you!
I'll have to kill you for getting words
out of me that all the lawyers nave
tried to make me say all this time.
And with the oath and snarl the
man made a iunge at my GouNerneur
Foulkner with something keen and
shining that he had drawn from the
top of his coarse boot. But that poor
human being of the prison was not
of enough quickness TO do the killing
of his desire in the face of Roberta.
maruuise of Gree and Bye, who had
twice with her foil pricked the red
cloth heart of the young Count de
Couertoir, the best swordsman or
France, in gay combat in the great
hall of the old Chateu de GREE. win
my walking cane of young gentle
man OIL Aul6IlCdli 4elollAOlAf NAhANAA
had taken with me to call upon the
beautiful Madam Whitworth before
my cherry had befallen me as gift
! and which l had without thought
! brought into that prison with me, l
| parried the blow of the knife at my
| beloved Gouverneur Faulkner, but
not in such a manner as to prevent d
glancing of that knife. which int1ict-
| ed a scratch of considerable depth
upon my forearm under the sleeve OF
| brown cheviot.
! Great heavens boy!" exclaimed
! that Gouverneur Faulkner as he
caught the knife from the floor where
it had fallen from the hand of the
poor man, who had sunk down or
the cot, trembling and painting. Two
inches to the left and a little more
force and the knife would have
struck in your heart"
rs it not better my heart than
yours, my great Gouverneur Faulk-
! ner? And, behold, it is the heart ol
neither and only small scratch up
on my humble arm, which VIII moi
even prevent the driving of that new
cherry car" answered him as put