The Argosy, March 1907 — page 119: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

~~ very recent cold-blooded murder of Thomas Bandmann, the writer, by our ex-local druggist, Albert Radford. That this crime could occur in a Civi- lized and enlightened community such as Bondville testifies but poorly to our vaunted advancement. That the drug- gist and no one else is guilty, he himself has assured an angry public by his pell- mell flight on the eve of arrest. That the wretched, cowardly taker of a human life—— The paper dropped again. Either the druggist must believe him- self insane or he must accept the bit- terest of all his woes with what forti- tude might be. Bob, like all the rest, had turned against him! His eyes glazed with hot tears. What should he do now? Continue the almost hopeless pursuit of the true criminal, or—return and meet death in the dis- graceful, hideous electric chair? Visions rose before him in nebulous fashion. First came Ethel. Radford shrank unconsciously back- ward. By now she must be one of the curiosities of the little town. She would remain true to him, and as true as steel— but what would that avail either of them? He could picture her, ater on, hear- ing and reading the gruesome accounts of his end—and Radford groaned anew. Better by far to buy some new cartridges for his empty weapon and turn it upon himself ! Then, with overwhelming force, the first shock returned—Bob! Radford looked up at the hot sky. “And Bob—Bob could do that!” he cried aloud. Emphatically, he had expected no sort of answer, sympathetic or otherwise ; yet, all without warning, one came! From just behind, a grim voice re- marked sourly: “Tt looks that way, doesn’t it, Bert?” As if galvanized, Radford shot to his feet. His wild, tired eyes glared around for an instant. ‘The station swam for a little; there seemed to be several forms about. Then his vision cleared and he saw— Sherwood, the sheriff! “It’s—you!” gasped the fugitive. Sherwood regarded him with hard, sharp eyes. His former friendliness, WHEN SUSPICION STRUCK HARD. ‘Bert. while perhaps not altogether dead, seemed now to have changed mainly to enmity and bitter reproach. ‘It’s me, Bert,” he replied. For an instant, the druggist contem- plated once more depending upon his false beard. The ruse, however, was far too thin now. 3 Sherwood, still suspicious, had _ fol- lowed him, strong in the belief that he had been deceived. Now he had caught up—and very likely had overheard the unconsciously uttered words of the drug- gist. “Well, Bert? ”’ he muttered. Radford could not reply at the mo- ment. He moistened his lips, but speech would not come. ‘““Are you ready to turn around and march back to Bondville, boy?” Sher; wood inquired flatly. The druggist’s knees weakened. He hesitated for a moment; then he sank once more to the edge of the platform and looked up at the sheriff. ‘Sit—sit down, Sherwood,” he said thickly. “What for?” the sheriff inquired gruffly. 3 ‘TI want—to talk to you.” Rather grudgingly, and after some hesitation, Sherwood settled himself on the edge of the platform. “It ain’t any use trying to work that mistaken identity ‘game over again, It won’t go twice. And it also won't do for you to cut and run. If you think I’m going to settle down and suddenly have you skip out—well, yéu’re a way off, my boy. I’ve got a gun, and even on you I’d use it, after what you've done!” “But what the dickens have I done?” burst from Radford. “For one thing, you betrayed the con- fidence I put in you, Bert. You no sooner knew that things were turning against you than you—skipped out!” “And you believe I’m guilty, Sher- wood?” asked the druggist. The sheriff bit his mustache for a little. “If you wasn’t guilty, why did you run, Bert?” he inquired, in a low voice. “But do you believe I’m guilty?” Radford laid a hand on the other’s knee and looked almost wistfully into his face, GComichboo , 691 ~*~ SCO