Year: 1876

She was not old, and her face, haggard
with care and scanned with trouble, still
bore traces Of great beauty. She came IN
to the Office with a quick, nervous tread,
and there was hunted look in the eyes
that betrayed the fugitive. She closed the
door behind her and turned the key in al
most the same motion, with a quick, in
s~tllctlve sun manner of person who had fall
en- en- INTO the habit of isOlating herself from
ooSoi tts %Slon and pursuit at every OppOrtU-
hity, one refused to sit down, but sad:


can zen You all you want to know
ABOUT me IN very few words. am fu-
gitive." I'm -


We told her we had guessed as much
and we beSought her to conti5e notbinc, 10
US. We could not help her, we said onr
duty as journalist would not permit ms 10
extend any aid to person flying from tbe
law. She said:


Il do not want you to aid me in further
flight; 1 am tired TO death. My own con
science, more pitileSs than the miniOns Of
the law, has pursued me for years with a
whip of scorpions. l cannot escape its
terrible lashings. cannot fly from my
punishment il l would, and am anxious
1t should be over. Death would be a well
come relief, if it would but come.


Again We told the painting, weary crea-
ture to tell none of her stories to US, and
advised her to go to the police headquarters
and give herself into the hands o. the law,
which would deal justly, and we had no
doubt, In view of her sufferings and re-
morse, mercifully with her.


Il cannot, she exclaimed, covering her
face with her hands and breaking into con-
vulsive sobs; 81 cannot, cannot. You do
not know that there are other hearts that
would ache if gave myself up and told
ali. want to tell my story to some one
who will pity me and advise me. There
are those whose hands are as dark with in
etfaceable stains as mine are, but who do
not suffer the mental agony that oppresses
me. Shall in order to escape the lashings
of my own conscience, consign these. whose
lives are happy and whose hearts know no
remOrse, to the same punishment for which
yearnP


We asked her, for our curiosity conquer
ed our caution, if it was possible thar one
so young and fair was the center of wide
spreading circle of crime that held in its
hOrrid entanglements so many others be-
side herseltl


Aye" she said bitterly, 'if went to
the gallows through court of Justice, l
would lead with me, held by the same ter
rible links of evidence, a guilty train of
men hardened in crime and their hands
stepped in innocent blood"


''Womanl womanp we exclaimed in
Mortified tones, 'in the name of heaven,
who and what are your


''Oh, heaven help me!' she shrieked in a
voice that chilled our marrow, Il am old
man Benderp


A weird, wild whOop rent the silence of
the sanctum, and the woman was alone.
There was sound as of a rising journalist
scrambling up through the narrow copy
tube, and the next instant bare head with
quill over one ear, burst through the
haIchway in the roof, and, followed by
complete set of editorial anatomy, emerg-
ed, and running briskly to the rear end Of
the building, disappeared down the light
ning-rOd and was seen no more until the
next day at p. IN. We never saw the wo-
man again, and wist not where she is; but
we smile in bitter derisiOn when we read
that the police have arrested an old man
tie description of old man Ben
der.-BurliRgtOn HanEeye.