Omaha daily bee., 1918-12-13
The AbandonedRoom
By Wadsworth Camp

couldn't blame them, could you, il
these old people were restless and
tried to go abroad?"
For Bobby, in spite of himself,
the man on whose last shelter the
earth continued to fall became once
more a potent thing, able to ap-
praise the penalty of his own care
lessness.
Come" Katherine whispered.
But Bobby fingered, oddly fascin-
ated, supporting the ordeal to- its
final moment. The blows OF the
backs of the spades on the COM
pleted mound beat into his brain
the end. From a distance the
harsh voice of one of them came
back:
Il don't want to dig again in
such place. People don't seem
dead there"
Robinson tried to laugh.
That mans wise" he said to the
doctor. "If Paroles spoke of this
cemetery as being full of ghosts l
could understand him."
The doctors deep bass answered
thoughtfully:
Paroles is probably right. The
man has a special sense. but I have
felt it myself. The Cedars and
the forest are full of things that
seem to whisper, things that one
never sees. Such things might have
an excuse for evil"
Lets get out of it." Robinson
said gruffly.
Katherine withdrew her hand.
Bobby reached for it again, but
she seemed not to notice. She
walked ahead of him along the path,
her shoulders a trifle bent. Bobby
caught up with her.
Katherine" he said.
Don't talk to me, Bobby"
He looked closer. He saw that
she was crying at last Tears stained
her cheeks. Her lips were strange
to him in the distortion of grief
that seeks to control itself. He
slackened his pace and let her walk
ahead. He followed with sort of
awe that there should have been
grief for Silas Blackburn after all.
He blamed himself because his own
eyes were not moist.
Back of him he heard the muir
muring conversation of the doctor
and the district attorney. Strangely
it made him sorry that Robinson
should have been more impressed
than Howells by the doctors be-
iefs.
They stepped into the clearing.
The wind had dissipated the smoke
stroud. 1t was no longer low over
the roofs. Against the forest and
the darker clouds the house had a
stark appearance. 1t was like a
frame from which the flesh has
fallen.
The black wagon had gone. The
Cedars was left alone to the solu-
ton of its mystery.
Paroles, Graham, and Rawlins
waited for them in the hall. There
was nothing to say. Paredes
placed, with a delicate accuracy,
fresh logs upon the FIRE. He arose,
flecking the wood dust from his
hands.
"How could it be here" he
unused, how impossible of entrance
when the house is left as empty as
the woods to those who only 60
unseenw
Bobby saw Katherine's shoulders
shake. She had dried her eyes, but
in her face was expressed an aver
sion for solitude, desire for any
company, even that of the man she
disliked and feared.
Robinson took Rawlins to the
library for another futile consulta-
ton, Bobby guessed. Katherine
sat on the arm of chair, thrusting
one foot toward the fresh blaze.
1T will snow" she said. 1T is
verv early for that"
No one answered. The strain
frightened. The flames leapt, throw
ing evanescent pulsations of bril-
liancy about the dusky hall. They
welcomed jenkins announcement
that luncheon was ready, but they
scarcely disturbed the hurriedly
prepared dishes, and afterward
they gathered again in the hall, ST.
lent and depressed, appalled, by the
long, dreary afternoon, which, how
ever. possessed the single virtue of
dividing them from another night.
(To Be Continued Tomorrow