Americus times-recorder. [volume] (Americus, Ga.) 1891-current, 1922-05-03
Continued From Our Last Issue)

She pressed her lips tight.
"Tm not going to tell-yet. You've
got to do something for me first.
I'm in trouble" she was speaking
rapidly now, the words flooding over
her lips between gasps, her eyes set,
her hands knitting.
He ran away and left me for
three days. The fire went out-my
baby" hysterical laughter broke
from her dry lips my baby died,
and still he didn't come. He"
"Agnesw Houston grasped her
hands. TRY to control yourself!
Maybe he couldn't get back. The
storm"
Eyes, the storml It's always the
storm! We would have been mar
lried-but there was the Storm
Then she halted, for the briefest
part of moment, to become sudden
| ly madly cajoling, crafty cunning:
Listen, Barry. You want to know
things. l can tell them to you--oh,
so many of them. I'll tell them too
if you'll only do this for me. It's
my baby-my baby. Won't you
promise for me? Take her to a
priest-please, Barry-and have her
buried in hallowed ground. Won't
you, Barry? Do you want me to die
too-or do you want me to live and
tell you why l did the thing | did?
Do you want to know who was back
of everything? | didn't do it for my
self, Barry. 1t was some one else
I'll help you, Barry, honestly I'll
help you"
about the murder?" Houston
was leaning forward now, tense,
hopeful. But the woman shook her
head.
"No-the lease, and the contract
I'll help you about that-if youth
help me. Take my baby"
The man rose.
I'm promise, Agnes. If you want
to help me afterward, we'll and good
If not-you are free to do as you
please"
The woman had raised eagerly.
Then look in a box in the top
drawer. You'll find a crucifix. They
they might want to put it on her"
In a mass of tangled, old-fash-
toned jewelry, he found the crucifx,
its chain broken and twisted, and
placed it in a pocket. Then he turned
to the grimmer task-and the good
by. A hall hour later, white-fea-
tured, hsi arms cupped gently about
a blanketwrapped form, he stepped
forth into the storm, and bending
against the wind, turned toward the
railroad in obedience to the hazy
directions of the sobbing woman he
had left behind.
The snowfall was lighter now; he
could find his way more easily.
Black splotches against the snow,
two figures suddenly had come out
of the sweeping veil-a girl and a
man. Something akin to panic seized
Houston. The man was Lost Wing.
The girl was Medaine Robinette.
Medaine's eyes went with wdshanly
instinct to the bundle in his arms
"a baby?' There was surprise in
her tone. Forgetting for the mo-
ment her aversion to the man. him.
self, she came forward, touching the
blankets, then lifting one edge ever
SO slightly that she might peer be-
meath. Where did you find it?
Whose is it,"
Houston sought vainly for words.
And the words seem to come unbid-
den:
Does it matter?"
"Of course not" She looked at him
queerly. 81 merely thought l could
be of assistance.
"You can. Tell me where l can
find priest-the baby is dead"
oh" She touched the bundle
ever so softly. Il didn't know"
Then with a sudden thought; But
her mother. She must need"
"Only a doctor. l will try to get
Bt'tiste to come out"
But couldn't L"
ppm sorry" He felt that he was
miring himself hopelessly. He wanted
to tell the truth, to ask her aid, to
send her back into the woods to the
there. But he could not frame the