Forest City press. (Forest City, Potter County, D.T. [S.D.]) 1883-19??, 1918-11-21

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the ruins, in the ruins perhaps /!
And this some one had seen him /!
/ And this some one had witnessed
the death of Arsene Lupin and
the death of Florence Levasseur!
And this some one, taking advan-
tage of his heedlessness and
knowing from his words that the
papers existed, had searched his
jacket and rifled the pockets!
His eyes expressed the alarm
of a man accustomed to work in
the darkness unperceived, and
who suddenly becomes aware that
another's eyes have surprised him
at his hateful task and that he
is being watched in every move
ment for the first time in his life.
Whence did that look come
that troubled him as the daylight
troubles a bird of the night?
Was it an intruder hiding there
by accident, or an enemy bent
upon his destruction? Was it an
accomplice of Arsene Lupin, a
friend of Florence, one of the po-
lice9 And was this adversary
satisfied with his stolen booty, or
was he preparing to attack him?
The cripple dared not stir. He
was there, exposed to assault, on
open ground, with nothing to pro-
tect him against the blows that
might come before he even knew
where the adversary was.
At last, however, the immin-
ence of the danger gave him back
some of his strength. Still notion
less, he inspected his surround
ings with an attention so keen
that it seemed as if no detail
could escape him. He would have
sighted the most indistinct shape
among the stones of the ruined
pile, OF in the bushes, or behind
the tall laurel screen.
y Seeing nobody, he came along,
supporting himself on his crutch.
He walked without the least
sound Of his feet or of the crutch,
which probably had a rubber shoe
at the end Of it. His raised right
hand held a revolver. His finger
vas on the trigger. The least eff
fort Of his will, or even less than
that, a spontaneous injunction of
his instinct, vas enough to put a
bullet into the enemy.
He turned to the left. On this
side, between the extreme end of
the laurels and the first fallen
rocks, there was a little brick
path which was more likely the
top of a buried wall. The cripple
followed this path, by which the
enemy might have reached the
shrub on which the jacket hung
without leaving any traces.
The last branches OF the laurels
were in his way, and he pushed
them aside. There was a tangled
mass of bushes. To avoid this, he
skirted the foot of the mound,
after which he took a few more
steps, going round a huge rock.
And then, suddenly, he started
back and almost lost his balance
while his crutch fell to the ground
and his revolver slipped from his
hand.
What he had seen, what he saw,
was certainly the most terrifying
sight that he could possibly have
beheld. Opposite him, at ten PAGES
distance, with his hands in his
pockets, Lis feet crossed, and one
shoulder resting lightly against
the rocky wall, stood not a man
it was not u man, and could not
BE a man, for this man, as tie
cripple knew, was dead, had died
the death from which there is no
recovery. 1t was therefore q
ghost; and this apparition from
the tomb raised the cripple's ter
ror to its highest pitch.
He shivered, seized with a fresh
attack Of fever and weakness. His
dilated pupils stared at the ex.
traordinary phenomenon. His
whole being, filled with demonia.
cal superstition and dread, crum.
|pled up under the vision to which
each second lent an added horror,
Incapable of flight, incapable
of defense, he dropped upon his
Iknnna And ho could MT <ol,o h;e