Democratic Sentinel, Volume 22, Number 26, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 16 July 1898 — PAYINC THE PENALTY [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

PAYINC THE PENALTY

BY THE SCOTT

(Continued.) It was a difficult t/sk to keep Robert on his feet until tin/si ( le*.'alk was reached. The exertion /t descending the stairs rendered him m#re limp than ever; but now the’ little kfeeze stirring fanned his hot face and&e perceptibly straightened up, though fa mind was in a chaos and be’knew nothing of where be was. At this moment a young man rapidly approarhed from the south. “Why, Bob! Bob!" he exclaimed. “I never saw yon In this condition before. It wffi never do for you to go home. Come. Mother and sister have retired. You shall a (company me.” “I —I don’t know yon. I—l’m —hie —all right.” “Don’t know me! Why, Bob, lam Lawrence Terry. lam just from a meeting of the bank directors. It is nearly | twelve o’clock; there are hardly any people on the street—come!” “He is pretty full,” said the man w!*o was yet sustaining him. “Pray where did you encounter him, sir?” “Oh, he was np stairs trying bis luck. I was afraid he would fall and helped him down.” “Come, Robert!” And Terry clasped his other arm. “G’way from me. I don’t know you.” “Best to humor him, Mr. Terry. I will help yon to a hotel with him. Perhaps you may then get him home.” One on each side of Robert, the three, men staggered along—staggered for the reason that Robert’s reeling pulled and pushed them from side to side. Crossing the mouth of an alley between Monroe and Madison streets, Robert apparently made a tremendous lurch, and the three men disappeared within the drtrk alley. The cashier, who was on the inside of the walk, stumbled and fell, and Robert went down nearly on top of him. One of the three did not fall, and tovo minutes later was back in the gambling xpoms Inquiring if he had dropped a silk Handkerchief on the floor. “Yes,” said the dealer, as he landed it to him. “The porter picked it up. What did you do with Kellogg?" “Oh, the man I assisted down .stairs? Is that his name? I left him quanreling with a man on the street—some one; named Terry, who wanted to take him Thome. Said he’d been to some directors’ meeting. He seemed to know the young fellow all right, but Robert, as he called him,,didn’t want to go with him. He was crazy drunk.” “Well, you left him in safe hands. Lawrence Terry is the cashier of his farther’s bank. He will probably take him. to his own home, or put him to bed in a hotel.” “You say his father is a banker?" “Yes, the president of the Great Western Bank. Oh, the young man is ali right. He takes his nip now and then, but I never saw him drunk before. Something unusual must have started him.” “I noticed that Terry remarked that it would never do for him to go home in that condition.” “Best not, I should jutjlge. Bob is all right. It is only one of the occurrences of a lifetime. But there goes rt patrol wagon after some drunk. 'Hear the bell! Perhaps they are pulling the gambling houses. It’s twelve o’clock: Everybody cash in! Take the back stairway, gentlemen.’.’ In a minute’s time there was\a scramble by that way of exit. Almost at the moment the gentleman who had accompanied Robert toithe street was Inquiring for his handkerchief, a police officer, rounding the block,'was passing the alley. A groan fell on his ears. He stepped forward and flashed his dark lantern. f “Good God!” he exclaimed, as he blew his whistle and ran to the corner pfatrol box. “There has been murder done, sure.” Four officers were on the scene .in a less number of minutes, and the patrol wagon with a physician quickly arrived.) “Here is Inspector Hunt now,".'said one of the officers. “Hey—what is this?” Flat on his back in the istone-paved alley, lay Lawrence Terry, a dirk blade buried in his breast, and the hand of a man lying partly on top of him yet clutching the haft of the blade. “Heavens!” exclaimed the inspector, as two burly policemen removed to one side the uppermost man, after releasing his hold of the dirk haft. “God help us!” exclaimed thelphysician. “I recognize this man. “He is Lawrence Terry, the cashier of the Great Western Bank. He is yet alive. There) may be hope. Quick! My bag from the wagon!" “Here it is, doctor:” “This dirk must be withdrawn, even if his life goes with it. How it clings! It has passed the ribs. Here, take it, inspector. You will want it. Quick! Now, then, if I can stanch this blood! Bring the stretcher. Easy now, easy! We will convey him directly home. I will accompany the wagon. Is that assassin injured?" “No,” replied one of the officers. “But he’s dead drunk, or seems to be.” “Look out for him, inspector. No time to lose in this case,” said the doctor as he leaped into the wngon and gave the signal to start. But one body remained in the alley. “Let me get a look at the assassin’s face,” said Inspector Hunt. “By the powers! That man is Robert Kellogg. He is the son of the president of the Great Western Bank. Of all the incomprehensible murders I ever heard of, this leads them! A banker’s son, drunk and crazy, murders the cashier of his father’s bank. Has that other wagon arrived?” “I hear the bell. It is coming now, inspector.” “Well, well! Mr. Kellogg, Robert!" The officer was shaking the stupefied form with considerable energy; but Robert, now totally unconscious, was beyond speaking. Only groans emiuated from his lips. “Take him to the station and summon Dr. Wright. Sullivan, you go over and tell his father to come to my office at once. Don’t tell him —hold on! Hold on, let him sleep until morning. The young man is dead drunk. Evidently unconscious that he has committed murder. I will drive by the banker’s before his morning papers are delivered. That is the best plan.” As the officers were lifting the body into the wagon, a revolver fell from the young man’s hip pocket. “Well, well!” exclaimed the inspector. “A revolver and a dirk! Doubly armed. 1 have heard that Terry was to marry this young man’s eldest sister. Perhaps he objected and took this way to prevent the nniob. Move on, men, move on!” The inspector was soon the only one left in the vicinity of the alley. “A horrible crime!” he exclaimed. “How came they here at this time of night. I wonder were they np playing the bank? Young Kellogg might be that way inclined occasionally, but I hardly think Terry was. I will run up.” “Closed as tight as a drum. Lights out and no noise. Abe generally closes at twelve sharp. They were hardly here, “This blow will about kill the old man,” mused the officer ns he made his way to headquarters. “Terry is dead by this time. Being drunk will not save the boy’s neck. It’s a plum case. I have the revolver and dirk. The Great Western is decidedly in hard lines.”

Here the inspector enter*-“d his'office and closed -the door. CHAPTER - * IX. At seven o’clock on the unorning of the 21st, Inspector limit doorbell at the Kellogg residence. Julia, the house mald.f answered the summons. “Show me into the lißrary, Julia/Vsaidj Ibe official, “and inform slr. Kellogg tha* Inspector Hnnt mnst see him at once.’: “He already in de ia>’ry){’ said Julia/as she led the way. “Oh, yon, inspector? Yon arefThere early. Yon bring news?’ , “Very sad news," the inspector raid, as he closed the door and dropppd 'into a chair. “Very sad news, and L deeply regret that I am the bearer of/iti’ “Speak it out, inspector!” ? exclaimed Mr. Kellogg, who saw that the, officer hesitated. ’ “Has the bank horned down?” “Worse than that,” was the Kt>ly; “far worse. Art five minutes to tvtfelve last night, Lawrence Terry, the flashier of yonr bank, was fonnd in an alhfey between Monroe an<f Madison streets 'with a dirk blade buriedjn his bosotn.” “Heavens! This is, indeed, terrible news that yontbring me!. He was dead?” “No, he lay v in the \ alley unconscious when found, aend was taken home, as quickly as possible, accompanied by Dr. Keyes of our medical staff. I supposed he would die before. reaching .home,, but he survived the trip. lam juetyfrom'his bedside.” “Then he yet liv*es?” “He does, and his physicians hope to pull him through. A daguerreotype) in his breast pocket diverted the course of the blade. His ribs swerved it more. But it was a close call. He nearly* bled toideath. He is now conscious, but tfrohibited>from speaking." “Poor boy, I x must go to him at\once!' My daughter’s portrait saved his' life.. He was doubtless on bis way home from a meeting of our board of directors. It* was nearly twelde when we adjourned. Was the wretch captured'who attempted his life?” “He is a prisoner station^” “Oh, lam glad to hear that. I v was not aware that the young man had an enemy. Oh, it was probably another robbery/case. Where did you capture the fiend ?’V “He was found lying partly on the body of his victim. lids hand/yet clutched the hilt of the bloody jfiade/that was buried in Terry’s bosom.” “Horrible! Too hdrrthle! Let me summon my carriage and notify Robert, and Earl.” And the banker* arose to his feet. “Not yet,” said the" (officer, who was now perspiring freely . and dreaded to speak further. “Wait. " Your son is not in the house.” v “Ah, Is he already at lorry’s side? I. knew not that he had left the house.” “He was not at home last! night” “Oh, that accounts for it. He had not returned when the crime was committed, and hearing of it, repaired l there at once. I am very glad, but ” “I have a hard task before me,” thought the inspector; “but 1 cannot' delay.” “Remember,” he said, “Terry will recover; there has been no murfder done.” “That should not u)itigate the punishment of the assassin/’ observfed the banker. “The intent to do murderiwas there.” “Oh, Lord!” thought the vofficer. “I wish I had deputed Some one'of my men to do this business.” “I—you know I infdymed you that the man who attempted the life of the cashier was found drunk, partly,lying,on his victim’s body, with the dir?) hilt clasped in his hand.” “Yes; the wretch!” “He was unconscious as as Terry. Dead drunk. Had been crazyfdrunk, probably. He yet lies, or did an,hour ago, in a drunken stupor at the station. He may be unconscious that he has committed a crime. In fact, lam certain he is.” “He should swing for it.' Even ifjTerry lives, he should get twenty years.” “This young man ” “Young man! Assassin, you mean. Well?” “Mr. Kellogg, I would rather <be kicked out of your house than go further. But — but—the young man whose hand' clasped the dirk hilt and who lay unconscious on the form of your cashier was f ’ “Who? Did you recognize him? Speak, man, speak! I cannot understand your delay. Name the assassin of Lawirence Terry.” “God help yon, I will! Robert)Kellogg; —your son!” With a groan of anguish the stricken) father sank again in his chair. “No, no, it is impossible! Unsay.those* words, Hunt, if you are a man!” “Would to God I could, sir; but they/ are too true.” “True!” cried the old man, springing to* his feet. “They are falfsp! My boy an* assassin—a murderer! Never! There isj some terrible mystery here!” “But, my dear sir, we-—” “Oh, I doubt not, Hunty that it now appears so to you. The circumstances con-' vinced you; but there are'no assassins in* my family. I never knew the boy to get 1 , drunk before. Rejoicing o*yer the improv-f ed condition of his sister,‘.who has been at death’s door, led to it. Ho, Thomas!' Thomas, I say!” “Yes, sir, I am here.” “My carriage at once. Ah, Elinor, dear, I hoped to leave the house without attracting your attention. Another blow—a terrible blow, has befallen my family.” “Dear, dear Stephen!” The widow’s face was very pale as (die cast one arm about the banker’s form. “Lawrence Terry was assaulted on the street last night. A dirk blade was buried in his bosom. He lies at home apparently near death.” “Not—not dead, Stephen! Not dead?” “No, dear, not dead. His physicians hope to save his life. My daughter’s daguerreotype diverted the blade aimed at his heart. Thank God, the' dear girls are not at home.” “Not dead?” “Bless you, no, dear. Burt Robert, my boy—my boy is in a felon’s cell, charged with the murder.” “Impossible!” exclaimed the widow, trembling in every limb. “He was found lying partly on the body with the dirk hilt yet clutched in his hand. The blade was yet in the bosom of Terry.” ‘‘A —dirk! My God!” and the madam dropped limp into a chair. “The boy was unconscious—drunk—he was used by Terry’s assailant to shield his own neck from the halter. Some wine for Mrs. Kellogg, Julia. Earl! Earl! Ah, here you are. Write a notice, ‘This Bank Closed for the Day/ and post it on the door of the Great Western.” “Your carriage Is at the gate,” observed the officer. “Yes; well, we will go." “Where first?” asked Hunt. “To my boy! Terry has attention.” The banker kissed the white lips of his intended, and hurriedly left the house, followed by the officer. “Of all the egregious blunders that*tever occurred! That wretch ” “Mother!” “Oh, I thought you were also gone, Earl.” “What is all this about?” “Why, Lawrence Terry was found on the street last night with a dirk blade buried in his breast. Robert Kellogg was found drunk by his side with one hand clutching the hilt of the dirk. He is locked up in the station chaiHd with having committed the crime. That is all I know about it.” “Well, that is the strangest thing I ever heard of,” remarked Earl. “Why, it’s incomprehensible. Some one-aside from Robert sheathed that dirk in Terry’* bosom.” “Oh, you can’t tell,” said the widow, “He was drunk.” “Will Terry die, mother?” “How should l know, Earl? If he does you will become cashier of the hank.” i “And Robert?”

“Who else could have bertm? He was apprehended under the conditions as i have stated. Yon were surely in the house and asleep. Come, drink a cap of coffee and harry away. Return and Inform, me of what yon learn.” (To be continned.)