The Knoxville independent. [volume] (Knoxville, Tenn.) 1894-current, 1918-05-04
CHAPTER XIX.
In the Dead of NIuht,

While Kusiak slept that night the
wind shifted. It came roaring across
the range and drove before 1t great
scudding clouds heavily laden with
sleety snow. From dark till dawn the
roar of the wind filed the night. Be-
fore morning heavy drifts had wiped
out the roads and sheeted the town in
virgin white unbroken by trails or fur
rows.
With the coming Of daylight the
tempest abated. Kusiak got into its
working clothes and dug itself out
from the heavy blanket Of white that
had tucked 1t in. BY noon the busi-
ness Of the town was under way again.
That which would have demoralized
the activities of Southern city made
little difference to these Arctic Circle
dwellers. Roads were cleared, paths
shoveled, stores opened. Children In
parkas and fur coats Cropped to school
and studied through the short after
noon by the aid of electric light.
Dusk fell early and with 1t came a
scatter of more snow. Mrs. Selfridge
gave dinner-dance at the club that
night and her guests came In furs
of great variety and much value. The
hostess outdid herself to make the af-
| fair the most elaborate of the season
Nobody in Kusiak Of any social i'm.
| portance was omitted from the list of
invited except Gordon Elliot. Even
the grumpy old cashier of Macdonald's
bank-an old bachelor who lived by
| himself In rooms behind those in which
the banking was done-was persuaded
to break his custom and appear in q
rusty old dress suit Of the vintage OF
'95.
The grizzled cashier-his name was
Robert Milton-left the clubhouse
early for his rooms. 1t was showing
but the wind had died down. Contrary
to his custom, he had taken two OF
| three glasses of wine. His brain was
excited so that he knew he could moi
/ sleep. He decided to read "Dor
/ Quixote" by the stove for an hour OF
two.
/ Arrived at the bank, he let himselt
into his rooms and locked the door. Ell
stopped to open the draft of the stove
when a sound stopped him halfway
The cashier stood rigid, still crouched
waiting for a repetition of the noise
It came once more-the low, dull rasp
ing Of file.
Shivers ran down the spine of Mil
ton and up the back of his head t,
the roots of his hair. Somebody wa
In the bank-at two o'clock in tn,
morning--with tools for burglary. FL,
was a scholarly old fellow, brought III
in New England and cast out to tn,
uttermost frontier by the malign trag
edy of poverty. Adventure offered n,
appeal to him.
| But though his knees trembled be
meath him and the sickness of fea
was gripping his heart, Robert Mil
| ton had in him the dynamic spark tina
| makes man. He tiptoed to his desl
and with shaking fingers gripped tn
I revolver that lay In a drawer.
| The cashier braced himself for tn
plunge, then slowly trod across tn
room to the inner, locked door. TIL
palsled fingers of his left hand coul,
scarce turn the key.
| 1t seemed to him that the night wa
alive with the noise he made in turnin
| the lock and opening the door. TIL
hinges grated and the floor squeake,
beneath the fall of his foot as he stoo
at the threshold.
Two men were in front Of the wir
grating which protected the big SAT
that filed the alcove to the right. On
held a file and the other a candle
Their blank, masked faces were turne
toward Milton, and each Of them Gov
cred him with n weapon.
i "W-what are you doing here?
quavered the cashier.
''Drop that gum" came the low
sharp command from one Of them.
Some old ancestral instinct in til
bank cashier rose out Of his panic t
destroy him. He, wanted to lie dow
quietly In a faint. But his mind as
serted .ts mastery over the weaklin