The Bottineau courant. (Bottineau, Bottineau County, N.D.) 1895-1929, 1922-10-19

also served al the Office of the icor0-
ner They made their report, then ac-
conapanied the officer, together with
the sheriff, back to the mine and into
the drift. There once more they
clambered through the hele In the
cave-in and on toward the beginning
Of the stope.s And there they pointed
out their discovery. \ 49,. II
4 wait for the remainder Of that
day-a day that seemed ages long, q
day in-which Robert Fairchild found
himself facing the editor Of the Bugle,
and telling his story, Harry beside
him. But he told only what he had
found, nothing of the past, nothing OF
the white-haired man who had waited
by the window, cringing at the slight
est sound on the old, vine-clad veran-
da, nothing Of the letter which he had
found in the dusty safe. Nothing was
asked regarding that; nothing could
be gained by telling II. In the heart
Of Robert Fairchild was the convic-
ton that somehow, some way, his IA
Their was innocent, and in his brain
was a determination to fight for that
innocence as long az 1t was humanity
possible. But gossip told what he did
not. .
There were those who rernem-
bered the departure of Thornton Fair
child from Ohadi. There were others
who recollected perfectly that in the
center of the rig was a man. appar-
emily "Sissie" Larsen. And they asked
questions. They cornered Harry, they
shot their queries at him one after
another. But Harry was adamant
II amt got anything to sye! And
there's an end to it,"
Late that night, as they were en-
gagged at their usual occupation of re-
lating the varied happenings of the
day to Mother Howard. there came q
knock at the door. Instinctively, Fair
child bent toward her:
"Your names out of this-as long
al possible"
She smiled in her m%othering, know
ing way. Then she opened the door,
there to find a deputy from the
sheriff's Office.
They've impaneled a jury up at the
courthouse" he announced. 1.-THE
coroner wants Mr.. Fairchild and Mr..
Harkins to come up there and tell
what they know about this here skele-
ton they found"
1t was the expected. The two men
went forth, to find the street about
the courthouse thronged, for already
the news of the finding of the skele-
ton had travelled far, even into the
little mining camps which .skirted the
town. Everywhere were black crowds
under the faint street lamps. The
basement of the courthouse was illu-
minated; and there were clusters Of
curious persons about the stairwayA.
Through the throngs started Harry
and Fairchild, only to be drawn aside
by Farrell, the attorney.
"Tm not going to take a part in
this unless / have to-" he told them.
ut will look better for you IL it isn't
necessary for me to make an appear
ance. How do you know but what
Thornton Fairchild was attacked by
this mar and forced to kill in self-de-
Tense? It's a penitentiary offense for
a man to strike another. without sui.
fcient justification, beneath ground.
And had Sissie Larsen even SO much
as slapped Thornton Fairchild, that
man would have been perfectly justi-
fed in killing him to protect himself.
Guide yourselves acknowledgement
will be there only as a spectator, I'M
less events should necessitate some.
thing else" 81
They promised and went on, SEINE
what calmer in mind, to edge their
way to the steps and to enter the
basement of the courthouse. The
ron and his jury, composed of sir
miners picked up haphazard aleng the
understanding to the custom OF
coroners in general-were already
present. So was every person who
possibly could cram through the doors
Of the big room. To them all Fair.
child paid little attention-a1 but
three. -
They were on. q hack seat In the
long courtroom-Squint Rodaine and
his son chalkier, yet blacker than
ever, while between them sat q old
woman with white hair which strag.
gled shout her cheeks, q woman with
deep-set, eyes, whose hands wandered
now and then vaguely before her; q
wrinkaed woman, ndgeting about on
her seat, watching with craned neck
those who stuffed their way within
the already crau1med room, her eyes
/ never still, her lips moving constant.
~. as though %mumbling some never
ending rote. Fairchild@ stared ut her,
then turned to; Harry.
"Who's that with the Redaines1"
Harry looked furtiyely. "Crazy
+ Laura-his wife, % i
But &%f%}s {%%G&Eaf ID ~ :"
And she ain't ERE for anything
goodr Harry's voice bore Z tone 81
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