Democratic Sentinel, Volume 22, Number 16, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 23 April 1898 — PAYING THE PENALTY [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

PAYING THE PENALTY

BY HESCOTT

CHAPTER ilL^-{Continued.) ”1 judge,” said Sellars* as he puffed a wreath of smoke aloft, “that it would be a difficult matter to find anyone guilty of an uncertain crime. First there is lacking a knowledge of the fact that a crime hag been committed. There is nothing tangible in this case. Doctor Strong believes tbat a crime has been committed — that is not evidence. It appears to md that it wobld be utterly impossible to establish the fact that Andrew Kellogg was foully dealt with—if so, it would certainly be a foolish act on your part to endeavor to brand anyone with the infamy of murder; not only would you make a ridiculous failure, but you would be liable to heavy damages,”

“True, Sellars, true!” exclaimed Amos. “But then, there has been no crime committed. Why, there was, on the part of Mrs, Kellogg and her son, no object for the commission of a crime. My brother was greatly attached to his wife, nor was she less attached to him. Be assured, doctor, that you have not been remiss in any duty. Again I say there has been no crime committed. Not for half I am wertkrWetdd I have Elinor made acquainted with your suspicions. I fully appreciate your motives and concern, nnd now say no more about it. Let the matter drop. Forget that such an unfortunate idea ever entered your head.” “That is my advice also,” said the detective, “unless you are prepared to establish the fact that Andrew Kellogg’s death was caused by the administration of poison.” “I believe it! I am satisfied of it! But I am utterly unable to demonstrate the fact. I feel that I have performed a tardy duty, and from henceforth my lips /shall be sealed on the subject.” “It is well,” said Amos gravely. “Let us go, Sellars,” said the doctor, rising to his feet. “I, at least, have unburdened my mind.” I - “First another toddy,” said Amos. I Five minutes later the physician and detective passed, out 4»to the street. Three blocks away their paths diverged. | “That ends the matter, Sellars,” said the doctor. “But nevertheless Andrew Kellogg died from the effects of a slow but sure poison-. He was murdered, and in iny opinion we have not heard the last of Elinor Kellogg.”

CHAPTER IV. JVhen Elinor Kellogg and her son descended the stairs on the morning of August tenth, it was in answer to Julia’s summons to breakfast. The banker met them with all the cordiality of the night before,’presented them to his daughters and sou, and the party were soon seated at the table in the spacious dining room. A few hours’ rest had indeed added to the attractiveness of the Widow Kellogg. The somber hue of her mourning garb, possibly but enhanced the beauty that had caused the banker the night before to exclaim as he ascended the stairs to his wife’s room: “A remarkably well-preserved woman is my sister-in-law. Yes, she is quite a beauty!” The son and daughters of the banker greeted their aunt by marriage in a spirit that at once gave evidence that they sympathized with her in her great affliction, and their words of sympathy and condolence brought tears to the eyes of Elinor Kellogg. So great was' her emotion when speaking of the last days and death of her late husband that she became almost hysterical, and it was with evident difficulty that the two sympathizing girls were enabled to restore her to a condition of equanimity that would enable her to remain seated at the table. “How she must have loved Uncle Andrew!” thought both Laura and Janette, the banker’s daughters. “My dear madam,” said Mr. Kellogg, “henceforth you must look ahead to what may lie in the future before you. I would not have you forget Andrew, and know that it would be impossible for you to do so; but we must all follow him one day—it is our duty to get what comfort we can out of life, so dwell not on the past. It must be our endeavor to, in’a measure, obliterate it from your memory. My daughters, I am sure, will strive to render your life while beneath our roof a not unhappy one.’’ “Oh, believe me, aunt,” exclaimed the impulsive Laura, “we shall love you dearly. Shall we not, Janette?” “I am sure w r e shall,” said Janette; “if our love will be any consolation ”

“Oh, my dear nieces, without your love there would be little charm left for which to continue an existence that has seen such sorrow,” said the widow, glancing with her large, luminous eyes tenderly at the two young ladies. “I shall live but in your love and that of my dear son.” “Oh, and you will love mamma—she is so good, so kind and so gentle,” said Janette. “She could not be otherwise, my dear, and be your mother. I am sure I shall love her with my whole heart.” “Poor, patient, suffering mamma!” said Laura. “She has been an invalid so long!” “Later, my daughters, you must present your aunt to your mother. I foresee that they will be a great comfort to each other. I must run up and see her a moment before going to the bank. ■’ “Robert,” continued Mr. Kellogg to his son, who had accompanied him into the hall, “what will you be doing to-day?” “Why, I have been dealing a little in the wheat market, father. I will be about the Board of Trade —unless I can do something for you.” “Yes, Chicago has a Board of Trade. It is a small affair uow; but it will grow with the growth of the city. But you want to look out for that Board of Trade, son. There are sharpers there who will fleece you. I hardly believe in dealing in futures. It is too much like gambling. Still, you are of age and must act for yourself.” “If they fleece me, father, they will not gain a fortune—my bank account is not very extensive.” “Well, be careful. At least it will sharpen your wits; but it is not the life I had marked out for you—l had far different plans—if you only ” “I will be ready to fall in with all your plans, father, iu a year or two; but would like a little more outside experience first.” “Suit yourself, son. Your bank account will be all right one of these days, if you listen to your father and cultivate good habits. But I was about to say that if you have no engagement that will prevent, suppose you bring Earl down town with you; show him around and call in the bank before the uoon hour.” “Certainly I will, father.” “Well, good-by,” and Mr. Kellogg hastily ascended to the floor above. The other members of the family entered the parlor, where they were seated when Mr. Kellogg descended the stairs. “Oh,” exclaimed Elinor Kellogg, “there is a matter that I had nearly forgotten;” and Bhe joined the banker ere he reached the outer door. “Mr. Kellogg!” “Yes, my dear madam.” “Oh, perhaps I should not ask it, but —” “Speak out, madam; have no fear. Anything that I can do for you will be done with pleasure.” “You know, my dear brother, if so I may be permitted to call you—for no brother could have received a sister more kindly than you have received me—that Earl has not an acquaintance in the West. He is n good boy, nnd my heart is bound up in him. If yon would kindly introduce

him and speak of him as your nephew, instead of as your brother’s stepson, I can see that ft would be greatly to his advantage; he would meet with more consideration from those with whom he comes in contact.” The banker smiled. “She knows more of the world than I surmised,” he thought. “Most certainly,” he said. “You shall be my loved sister—Earl, my nephew.” “God bless yon, my dear brother!” were the words that fell from the widow’s lips as she raised her handkerchief to her eyes. The sympathetic banker placed one arm around her waist, imprinted a kiss on her fair brow, and with the words, “Cheer up, my dear sister, yon are with those who will love yon and smooth your pathway,” hastened away. A peculiar smile passed over the features of the widow as she lowered the handkerchief from her face. No tears were in her jet black eyes—rather a look that seemed to say, “Score one sos Elinor Kellogg.” As for the banker—his face, was certainly somewhat flushed as he passed out of the gate, and he mused thus: “I am surprised at myself. Not for a thousand dollars would I have Thalia know of the kiss that t imprinted oh the widow’s brow —no, or the girls. Pshaw lit was but a brother’s kiss, and so will my sister-in-law regard it. “My! but she is charming. She must be as good and pure also, as she is attractive. I am truly glad that she came into our lives and think Thalia will like her. I shall soon become better acquainted with my brother’s widow.” The banker would of a truth. CHAPTER V. The two young men remained seated in the parlor for perhaps a half hour after Mr. Kellogg had taken his departure, and Earl, who, by the way, was indeed a young man of fine appearance, strove to make a favorable impression bn his newfound cousins. The young man’s conversational powers were of a superior order. He had the happy faculty of adapting himself to any and all surroundings; nor was it long before he found himself chatting withthe presumptive heirs of the banker’s wealth with all the equanimity of an old acquaintance. The contrast between these two young men was marked. Robert Kellogg had passed his twenty-second year. He was fully six feet in height, of light complexion, with eyes that very closely resembled his father’s—being a deep blue. His hair and mustache were auburn, and his features were somewhat prominent; while his hands and feet were of goodly proportions, else he would not have been a Kellogg. The young man had been out of school for over two years. His father had thought to give him a year of leisure before requesting him to take a position in his bank. Leisure, at least too much of it, is not always the best thing in the world for a" young man on the threshold of life. It certainly was not for Robert Kellogg. A number of his old resided in Chicago. They had worked hard for years—or thought they had—to acquire an education, and now that a re: spite had come, they determined to have a good time. They had started in with a grand three o’clock dinner* at a famous Clark street restaurant of that day, and that night Robert failed to make his appearance at his father’s residence. Strangely, when he awoke next morning, he found himself with two of his companions in a room of a down town hotel, and suffering from an intense headache. His companions were in a similar condition, and one of them stated that he had always understood that the hair of the dog was good for the bite; consequently another bottle of wine was ordered, and it was three days before the young man slept again beneath the paternal roof. Of course he was repentant and woukj never do the like again. He was devotedly attached to the other members of the family, particularly so to his mother; but nevertheless he soon fell, a second time, from grace—that, at least, is what the young men of that day termed it —imbibing too much of the ardent, after having seemingly abandoned it* Robert soon became a tippler—not a drunkard in the common acceptance of the term, though occasionally he would undoubtedly have found it difficult to follow very closely a chalk mark drawn on a floor—particularly if the mark was straight and extended the full length of the room. He had never been Known to appear at his home under the influence of liquor, but nevertheless the banker had watched him closely. He realized that his boy was a little wild, but relied on his good, sound sense to bring him to a halt ere the habit was confirmed. The wildness of the young man, as the father termed it, had precluded his being called to a position in the bank. Mr. Kellogg had, indeed, talked with him on the subject, but Robert had decided that he must see more of the outside world before confining himself to the unceasing duties that awaited him in his father’s institution. Chicago of that day was not the palatial city it has since become, but a goodly town of some sixty thousand inhabitants. Its packing houses were not the mammoth structures of to-day. The elevators were but pigmies compared with the towering ones that now loom up on every hand. Its Board of Trade—well, a rented down town hall, with a free lunch and barroom attachment.

This was the place where Robert had been dealing in futures —a place his father had heard and read of, yet never entered, though he had foreseen that ultimately it would grow into gigantic proportions. As we have stated, the contrast between Robert Kellogg and Earl was marked, Earl was very nearly of Robert’s height, but less compactly built. He was, as has bene indicated, of a dark complexion, black hair, mustache and eyes and small hands and feet. He was much quicker than Robert in his movements and of a very different temperament. Robert was impulsive, and on the impulse of the moment would commit an act of which he would afterwards repent. Earl made no moves without consideration—he must reason the matter out before acting. Robert’s companions could influence him against his Better judgment. But one person in the world could influence Earl, and that one was his mother. How safe should that young man be who could only be influenced by a loving mother! In that his hair and eyes were black, his hands and feet small, his temperament cool and calculating, Earl resembled his mother, there the resemblance ceased; for he neither had the madam’s clear and lilywhite, complexion, nor did his features in any way resemble hers. Indeed, as the young man passed from the house, Laura had remarked to her sister: “What a charming young man Earl is; but he certainly bears little resemblance to his mother, save in his hair and eyes.” “I presume,” said Janette, “he more resembles his father.” “Yes,” said the madam, “he is the very image of what his father was at his age.” At this moment Julia entered the room. “Miss Laura,” she said, “de missus say she ready to receive her sister-in-law if you will ’company her to her room. She say for you to come, too, Miss Janette. She ain't seed you dis morninV’ “I had no thought that mamma was awake, Julia,” said Janette. “Let us go at once.” “Bless yo’ soul! You mammy had her breakfus long ago.” The widow and the two girls left the parlor and passed upstairs. Julia stood in the hall and watched them until they had disappeared, after which, with a shake of her head, she remarked, as she started for the kitchen: “I ’clare to goodness, dat widder J»#» captured (le whole Business?’ i'4'o be continued.}