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Show THE CITIZEN 54 pocket. It made me feel ashamed and false to her. Id acted like a dog. Thats the truth. Finally Tower had got that wrong stuff into my head. I lay awake most of the night thinking of it. It seemed to me that if only this could be wiped off the slate buried out of sight, you know and I could have another chance Id do better. It seems to me I' couldnt bear to look her in the face again if this comes out. His own unhandsome face puckered up, as from bodily pain. "If you can help me, Mr. Hinton, I wish you he went on in an utterly would, simple hearted but poignant appeal. You see, what happened was all in my own mind. Something wrong jgot in there. It was all wrong fearfully wrohg a black crime, I admit, she being what she is and I being what I am and she having married me. I admit it was a black crime, but it was all in my own mind. Nothing happened out side of my mind; I only left the office and walked down the street. So I think I have a right just to bury it and make it right atone for it without having it all brought out in public. You see what I mean. He wetted his lips and rubbed his brow again and even when he was silent his eyes appeared. That suggesting and building up an air around a man I think even now it isnt as easy to resist as you might say. I think Tower was a rotten dog to do it. Not that, that excuses me, either. But I want a chance to make it good. If you can help me to keep it from being public. I wish you would. Why, sure I will! Hinton replied in a hearty voice. Certainly I will! Youve got good friends who are going to stand by you friends who can do something, too. Were going to pull this out straight! He spoke in tones of hearty conviction, but in fact the conviction was all in his tones not in his mind. When he sent the city editor back to the local room with a new command to buck up and trust to his friends, a sense of helplessness fairly overwhelmed him. He simply hadnt the heart to tell Cochran the brutal truth that young Wilkins was going to tesminutes. tify in exactly forty-tw-o That testimony would make a dark case for Cochran. In any event it would irretrievably bring her into it publicly. For a minute he thought rather wildly of kidnapping young Wrilkins until after the inquest, but Wilkins had already tattled; the police would follow that up. He could exert a strong influence in official circles, but official circles could not be expected to turn their backs on such circumstantial evidence in a sensational murder case. No doubt he. could procure an adjournment of the inquest, but how would that help? The police already had enough of the story so that it might leak into print at any moment. Hinton was beating about in that cage and the clock on his desk was ticking off the scant minutes of grace when his door opened and a shiney dome of bald head, with a fleshy face beneath it that was barred by a ragged gray mustache, thrust in, survey ing the scene. Head and face appertained to Pop Farrell, the exchange editor. Seeing Hinton was alone, the the exchange editor came in, lumbered over to the desk and sagged down in the chair that Cochran had just vacated. He seemed much dis- turbed. Looks as though Id got myself in kind of a fix, Jack, he began, looking unhappy. He was the only member of the staff who called the editor Jack, having known him in his journalistic swaddling clothes. But at the moment Hinton was not much interested in Pop Farrells fix, so he answered crustily; What is it? Farrell replied with an unexpected question: Did Tom tell you where he was yesterday afternoon? Herbert Wells talk had shown that the affair was more or less common knowledge among the staff by that time, so Hinton briefly repeated Coch- rans account of himself. The ex- change editor listened attentively, his bald brow wrinkling in a frown, and I thought, from what commented: Id heard this morning, that it was something like that. And Ive heard that young Wilkins is going down to tell something. He is the pup! Hinton retorted, in a smother of useless wrath. A mule, with his princiHe cant let alone. it Hes got ples! to play Providence butting in! Farrell put a puffy hand on the desk and observed earnestly: That mustnt happen. But how are you going to help it? Hinton demanded, wrathfully. The exchange editor gave a tug at his ragged mustache and replied: Well, Ill tell you although it does put me in sort of a fix. You see, Ive known that girl since she was so high. He put a pudgy hand the height of the desk. Id stake my life on her. She fell in love with Tom because hes such a kind of a lonesome, helpless lobster that dont know how to get through the world alone. All the sucker knows is just to work his head off, you see. She fell in love with him mostly for that. And I guess she kind of sensed, that hed be pretty stanch and mighty fond of her kind of rock to lean on. And he would have been, if it hadnt been for Tower. There was a bird for you. There was no hurrying up Pop Farrell. Hinton knew that and repressed his impatience. A lot of us knew what was going on, Jack; a lot of us. There was a man you see, working all he knew to poison another mans mind. We saw him put the arsenic in the coffee ten times a day, and just sat around and grinned. It shows were all yellow. If wed been clean minded, decent men wed have killed Tower weeks ago. But you never do think of the right thing until its too late. The louse was sore at Tom for getting her sore at her for choosing Tom. His conceit couldnt stand that. He wanted to show off before the boys. He worked overtime trying to poison Tom. It was mostly all in the air, you know suggesting and suggesting to get everybody to thinking one thing everybody around self-righteo- us Tom, making breathed. the atmosphere Well, he did get some hold of he Bes- sie. She was foolish, I admit; but women are apt to be foolish about business and about their husbands. He let on to her that he had a tremendous pull with the owners; told her confidentially he was going to make Tom managing editor that practically he was running the paper and not you. Of course if he could make Tom managing editor he could fire him, too. He didnt exactly say that, but he worked on her to make her think Toms future was a good deal in his hands. Women are apt to be foolish about business not really Of course, a good understandingg. woman dont want to prejudice her husbands future. So she stood for a good deal that she wouldnt have stood for otherwise. Uuderstand, he always treated her properly on the surface. He was smart enough to know he had to. But she stood for a good deal in the way of his hanging around and calling and all that being pleasant to him, you know. And he worked that walking into the newspaper office with her and all that. Then he took the bracelet Tom had given her pretending he did it in a joke, but not giving it back all the same. She was disturbed about that, but a nice woman dont want to make a row, especially when it runs into her husbands business. She met him a couple of times to get the bracelet back, but he kept It pretending it was all a joke. She got frightened got a suspicion he was trying to tangle her up. Still she hated to make a row hated saying anything to Tom. So she sent for me. That was a week tomorrow. Well, I didnt want any row or mess, either damned old fool that I am. I told her not to be alarmed and not to bother of course hed give the bracelet back. An old fathead, you see, wanting to smooth everything over and avoid trouble: I only told her the less she had to do with Tower the better. That was a week tomorrow. Of course, I should have told her what Tower was up to, but looking her in the face and telling her that kind of stuff when she was the woman an old fathead, you see, wanting to slide out of it the easiest way. I just told her she better have as little as sible to do with Tower and let it go at that. But I was av good deal disturbed. It kept running in my head. The next afternoon, as luck would have it, a fellow came up here to see Tower. It was about 4 oclock and there wasnt anybody in the local room at the moment, but I was in my room so he came in there. I was about cleaned up for the day and the man interested me, so I talked to him a while. Hes got a little cheese and grocery store on the north side, and a couple of days later I dropped in there and we had another talk. He talked to me pretty freely then. The exchange editor gave a tug at his . mustache and ..went on, with, an air: Hes a oddly apologetical bandy legged man, thick set, with a kind of bony hungry looking face, the skin almost dead white and deep set . . black eyes. You might way he was a glittering kind of man. He talked to me pretty freely. You see, he wanted Tower to let his daughter alone. Thats what he wanted. I felt mighty sorry for him, knowing Tower as well as I did. Well, yesterday afternoon as Tower was going out of the local room, I heard him say he had a date with a little lady at the Moon cafe. The the little lady. boyB called Bessie Of course I knew well enough it wasnt Bessie. But I knew Towers game too. I was awfully disgusted and sore and in a few minutes I put on my hat and coat and started home. When I was going out of the building I met my Italian coming in, and I just up and said to him that Tower wasnt in; that hed gone to keep an appointment with a woman at the Moon cafe. I just up and said that but I wouldn't wonder if that puts me in kind of a fix, so I cant very decently do anything my self. But I want you to get the inquest postponed and send a reporter to ask the Italian where he was yesterday afternoon. I believe that will start something. Before Hinton could reply the door opened and the city editor entered, in a breathless sort of way, his broad, unhandsome face shining joyously. He was holding a sheet of thin yellow paper containing a bulletin from the local press association which read: Antonio Muranti has confessed to the police that he shot George Tower yesterday afternoon. He will plead the unwritten law. Hintons eye swiftly took it up. He sprang up, beaming, and clapped the ctiy editor pn the shoulder, crying: I knew it would come out right! It had to! Pop Farrell, having the bulletin, rubbed his bald herd and observed: If ever a man worked hard for those wages that George Tower collected yesterday afternoon, that man was Tower. After all, there may be more in this Providence business than you think for. (Copyright: 1919: By Will Payne). THE COURTS DECISION. Plaintiffs Counsel Your honor, unfortunately in this case I am opposed by the most unmitigated scoundrel learned friend is such a notorious perverter Defendants Counsel My Will counsel kindly conJudge fine their remarks to such matters as are in dispute? Pittsburg THAT PARIS TRINITY. Premier Massey, back in Maoriland relates that Clemenceau, in reply to a protest about the slow progress made at the Peace Conference, said: How can we get along fast when I have a man on my left who Imagines himself a latter-da-y Napoleon, and on my right a gentleman who holds the opinion that he is the worlds Redeemer on a second visit to earth? Sydney Bulletin. 0 Q . |