The Wheeling intelligencer. [volume] (Wheeling, W. Va.) 1903-1961, 1922-07-15

a lowdown trick.
Got the miserables, poor
devil" the warden murmured at
his peephole. ,"He's only a lad
yet. Wonder why e won't see
is folks? Nice girl she looked,
too. Well, wellr He shook
his head and moved of.
And Teggie sat on, hunched
up, sobbing quietly, very boylsh
in his abandonment. After a
while, however, be pulled him.
self together. Most frightful
my-rot-sentimental squish
TO give way like this after
sticking it all through the trial,
But then squish has a way OF
sticking. Of course, it was rot
ten to have been nabbed at all
the combination of a smashed
lcollar-bOne and the dlabollcal
>Ferrand had been altogether too
much for him.
WHY hadn't Ferrand shown
up at the trial, instead of letting
Scotland-yard scoop all the fat
Didn't want to give himself
away, perhaps, 1t would be
awkward for a detective to ex-
plain those interviews when he'd
| let the criminal off, particularly
awkward to reveal what had
happened at the first encounter.
ITeggie chucked at the thought
of it-a .forlorn ghost of a
chuckle; but it pleased the SYM
pathetic warden outside.
"Bucking up a bit. Plenty OF
pluck, ANYHOW. Wonder II eu
like to confesS?"
He put the formal question
to the prisoner.
"Would you like a parson' or
a cigarette, or anything?"
Teggie smiled. "No, thanks.
old man. As a matter of fact.
I'm a Catholic"
1" All the better" the warden
said persuasively; "you can con-
fess all nice and comfortable,
and nobody none the wiser
Anyway, it's better than mop
in"
Teggie shook his head absent
mindedly, still thinking of Fer
rand.
"Cheer up, sonnie," the war
den advised, as he left the cell.
you'll soon be dead"
"Righto! So | shall
"And naked to the hangman's moose
The morning clocks will ring
A neck God made for other use
Than strangilng in q string
"Wish they'd hang me on a
hill in the country. Wish |
could see Ferrand. Like to know
why he didn't turn up. That
other Frenchman, Lemaitre de
Finnesse,. had given his little bit
of evidence very prettily, with
out animus. A cool sort of chap
that, rather like Ferand; but
the proprietor of the Cathay
Hotel spoke top-hole English.
He didn't once say re or helm.
Well. ii didn't much matter
which of 'em had handed him
over; here he was
"'A neck God made for other
use Lord! What a pity it wasn't
eight in the morning
when he will hear the sroke OF
eight
And not the stroke OF nine
Teggie began to tramp up
and down the cell. His foot
steps and the warden's crossed
in dismal antiphony.
Oh, well, he'd soon b!
dead. Who was that by the
wall2
"Teggic! | want my Teggie. ,
! She looked thin and pale this
time, like the tiny shadow of a
child he'd kidnapped. The poor
little spectre came nearer.
"Teggie! | want my Teggie. "
All, her Teggie had made I
fine hash of her affairs! That
accused old man had peggec
out without a chance to see hi:
! solicitor after all; and there was
Betty left penniless. She should
have Miss Walkover's jewelled
chain. though.
" Miss Walkover, you must
accept these links. I'll give YOU
plenty of rope-ha, hal don
aften abuse my authority, but
this is ultima ratio regum.' "
The fatuous old ass with his
Latin tags! Why, even his pom
pous brother wasn't as bad a:
that!
"Teggie! | want my Teggie.''
ooh, 20 away" he groaned,
and pulled the tiny phantom