The Tabor independent. [volume] (Tabor, S.D.) 1913-19??, 1918-11-21

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lngs 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, or in the bushes, or behind
the tall laurel screen.
Seeing nobody, he came along,
supporting himself Oh his crutch.
He walked without the least
sound of his feet or of the crntch,
which probably had a rubber shoe
at the end of it. His raised right
hand held a revolver. His finger
was on the trigger. The least cf-
fort of his will, or even less than
that, a spontaneous injunction of
his instinct, was 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, his feet crossed, and one
shoulder resting lightly against
the rocky wall, stood not a man:
it was not a man, and could not
be a man, for this man, as the
cripple knew, was dead, had died
the death from which there is no
recovery. 1t was therefore a
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 cx-
traordinary phenomenon. His
whole being, filled with demonia-
cal superstition and dread, crum-
pied up under the vision to which
each second lent an added horror.
Incapable of flight, incapable
of defense, he dropped upon his
knees. And he could not take his
eyes from that dead man, whom
hardly an hour before he had
buried in the depths of a well,
under a shroud of iron and gran
lite.
Arsene Lupin's ghost!
A man you take aim at, you
fire at, you kill But a ghost! A
which no longer exists and
which nevertheless disposes of all
the supernatural powers! What
was the use of struggling against
the Internal Vaccinations of that
which is no moref What was the
use of picking up the fallen re-
volver and dwelling it at the in
tangible spirit of Arsene Lupinf
And he saw an inc0mprehens-
IDLE thing occur: the ghost took
his hands out of its pockets. One
Of them held a cigaret case; and
the cripple recognized the same
gunmetal case for which he had
hunted in vain. There was there
fore not a doubt left that the
creature who had ransacked the
jacket was the very same who
opened the case, picked out
cigaret and struck a match
taken from a box which also be-
to the cripple!
o miracle! A real flame came
from the match! O Incompatible
marvel! Clouds of smoke rose
the cigaret, real smoke, of
which the cripple at once knew
the particular smell!
He hid his head in his hands.
lie refused to see more. Whether
ghost or optical illusion, an en-
anation from another world, or an
image born of his remorsc and
proceeding from himself it should
torture his eyes no longer.
But he heard the sound of a
step approaching him, growing
more and more distinct as it
came closer! He felt a strange
presence moving near him! An
arm was stretched out! A hand
fell OH his shoulder! That hand
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