Evening Republican, Volume 19, Number 136, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 9 June 1915 — Page 2

Dark Hollow

By Anna Katharine Green

SYNOPSIS. A cnrioua vrowd of neighbors Invade the mj’eterlouß home of Judge Ostrander, county Judge and eccentric recluse, following a veiled woman who proves to be the widow of a man tried before the Judge StMl electrocuted for murder ytui before. Her daughter is engaged to the •on, from whom he is estranged, but the murder is between the lovera She plana to dear her husband’s memory and asks the judge's aid. Deborah Scoville reads the newspaper clippings telling the story of the murder of Algernon Etheridge by John Soovllle In Dark Hollow, twelve years before. The judge and Mrs. Scoville meet at Spencer’s Folly and she •hows him how, on the day of the murider, she saw the shadow of a man, whittling a sOck and wearing a long peaked cap. The judge engages her and her daughter Reuther to live with him In n,s mysterious home. Deborah and her lawyer, Black, go to the police station and see the stick used to murder Etheridge. She discovers a broken knife-blade point embedded in it Deborah and Reuther go to live with the judge. Deborah sees a portrait of Oliver, the judge's son. with a alack band painted across the eyea That might she finds, in Oliver's room, a cap ■with a peak like the shadowed one, and * knife with a broken blade-point Anonymous letters and a talk with Miss AVeeks Increase her suspicions and fears. Che finds that Oliver was in the ravine ■d the murder night CHAPTER X—Continued. She had rather have died, nay, have had Reuther <fte, than to find herself forced to weigh and decide so momentous a question. For, however she might feel about tt, aot a single illusion remained as to whose hand had made use of John Scoville's stick to strike down Alger■on Etheridge. How could she have when she came to piece the whole ■tory together, and weigh the facts •he had accumulated against Oliver with those which had proved so fatal to her husband? Deborah shuddered. Aye, the mystery had cleared, but only to enshroud her spirits anew and make her Jong with all her bursting heart and shuddering soul that death had been her portion before ever she had essayed to lift the veil held down so tightly by these two remorseful men. But was her fault irremediable? The only unanswerable connection between this old crime and Oliver lay in Che evidence she had herself collected. As she had every Intention of suppressing this evidence, and as she had •mall dread of any one else digging out the facts to which she only possessed a due, might she not hope that •ny suspicions raised by her inquiries would fall like a house, of cards when ■he withdrew her hand from the toppling structure? She would make her first effort and ■ee. Mr. Black had heard her complaint; he should be the first to learn that the encouragement she had receive was so small that she had decided to accept her present good luck without further query, and not hark ■hack to a past which most people had buried. 7 • •••••• “You began it, as women begin most things, without thought and a due weighing of consequences And now you propose to drop it in the same freakish manner. Isn't that it?” Deborah Scoville lifted her eyes in manifest distress and fixed them deprecatingly upon her interrogator. Mr. Black smiled. The woman deMgbted him. The admiration which he had hitherto felt for her person •nd for the character which could so develop through misery and reproach as to make her in twelve short years the exponent of all that was most attractive and bewitching in woman •eemed likely to extend to her mind “I am reconciled simply from necessity," was her gentle response. “Nothing is more precious to me than Reuther’s happiness. I should but endanger it further by raising false hopes. That is why I have come to cry halt” “Madam, I commend your decision. But why should you characterize your hopes as false, just when there seems to be some justification for them?" Her eyes widened, and she regarded him with a simulation of surprise, which interested without imposing upon him. “I do not understand you,” said she. ‘•Have you come upon some clue? Have you heard something which I have not?" Mr. Black took two or three crushed land folded papers from a drawer be■ide him and, holding them, none too in sight, remarked very quietly, but with legal firmness: “Do not let us play about the bush any longer. You have announced your {lntention of making no further attempt to discover the man who in your eyes merited the doom accorded to John Scoville. Your only reason for this — If you are the woman I think you—lies in your fear of giving further opportunity to the misguided rancor of gm irresponsible writer of anonymous ieplstles. Am I not right, madam?" Beaten, beaten by a direct assault {because she possessed the weaknesses, ins well as the pluck, of tt Woman. She •could control the language of her lips, but not their quivering; she could Xaeet his eye with steady assurance, •at she could not keep the pallor from fear cheeks or subdue the evidences of tar heart's tarmoll. Her pitiful glance

acknowledged her defeat, which she already saw mirrored in his eyes. Taking It for an answer, he said gently enough: “That we may understand each other at once, I will mention the person who has been made the subject of these attacks. He —” "Don't speak the name,” she prayed, leaning forward and laying her gloved hand upon his sleeve. "It Is not necessary. The whole thing is an outrage.” His admiration was quite evident It did not prevent him, however, from saying quite abruptly: "Men who Indulge themselves in writing anonymous accusations seldom limit themselves to one effusion. I will stake my word that the judge has found more than one on his lawn.” She could not have responded if she would; her mouth was dry, her tongue half paralyzed. What was coming? The glint in the lawyer’s eye forewarned her that something scarcely in consonance with her hopes and wishes might be expected. “The judge has seen and read these barefaced insinuations against his son and has not turned this whole town topsy-turvy! A Hon does not stop to meditate; he springs. And Archibald Ostrander has the nature of a Hon. Mrs. Scoville, this is a very serious matter. I do not wonder that you are a trifle overwhelmed by the results of your Hl-considered investigations.” “Does the town know? Has the thing become a scandal —a byword? Miss Weeks gave no proof of having heard one word of this dreadful business.' “That Is good news. You relieve me. Perhaps It is not a general topic as yet” Then shortly and with lawyerlike directness: "Look over these. Do they look at aH familiar?” She glanced down at the crumpled sheets and half-sheets he had spread out before her. They were similar in appearance to the one she had picked up on the judge's grounds, but the language was more forcible, as witness these: ’ When a man is trusted to defend another on trial for his life, he’s supposed to know his business. How came John Scoville to hang, without a thought being given to the man who hated A. Etheridge like poison? I could name a certain chap who more than once in the old days boasted that he'd like to kill the fellow. And tt wasn't Scoville or any one of his low-down stamp either. t _ A high and mighty name shouldn’t shield a man who sent a poor, unfriended wretch to his death in order to save his own bacon. "Horrible!” murmured Deborah, drawing back in terror of her own emotion. “It’s the work of some implacable enemy taking advantage of the situation I have created. Mr. Black, this man must be found and made to see that no one will believe, not even Scoville’s widow—" “There! you needn’t go any further with that,” admonished the lawyer. “Have you any idea who this person is?” “Not the least in the world.” “I ask because of this,” he explained, picking out another letter and smilingly holding tt out toward her. She read it with flushed cheeks. Listen to the lady. You can’t listen to any one nicer. What she wants she can get. There’s a witness you never saw or heard of. A witness they had never heard of! What witness? Scarcely could she lift up her eyes from the paper. Yet there was a possibility, of course, that this statement was a He. “Stuff, isn’t it?” muttered the lawyer. “Never mind, we’ll soon have hold of the writer." His face had taken on a much more serious aspect, and she could no longer complain of his indifference or even of his sarcasm. “You will give me another opportunity of talking with you on this matter,” pursued he. “If you do not come here you may expect to see me at Jvdge Ostrander’s. Ido not quite like the position into which you have been thrown by these absurd insinuations. It may even lead to your losing the home which has been so fortunately opened for you. If this occurs you may count on my friendship, Mrs. Scoville. I may have failed you once, but I will not fail you twice.” Surprised, almost touched, she held out her hand, with a cordial “Thank you,” in which emotion struggled with her desire to preserve an appearance of complete confidence in Judge Ostrander, and incidentally in his son. Then she turned to go. The lawyer appeared to acquiesce in the movement of departure. But when he saw her about to vanish through the door some impulse of compunction, as real as it was surprising, led him to call her back and seat her once more in the chair she had so lately left ~ “I cannot let you go," said he, “until you understand that these insinuations from a self-called witness would not be worth our attention if there were not a few facts to give color to hi a • wild rlvimw - Oliver Ostrander 1

THE EVENING REPUBLICAN, RENSSELAER. IND.

was In that ravine connecting with Dark Hollow, very near the time of the onslaught on Mr. Etheridge; and he certainly hated the man and wanted him out of the way. The whole town knows that, with one exception. You know that exception?" "I think so,” she acceded, taking a fresh grip upon her emotions. “That this was anything more than a coincidence has never been questioned. He was not even summoned as a witness. With the judge’s high reputation in mind I do not think a single person dould have been found In those days to suggest any possible connection between this boy and a crime so obviously premeditated. But people’s minds change with time and events, and Oliver Ostrander's name uttered In this connection today would not occasion the same shock to the community as it would have done then. You understand me, Mrs. Scoville?” "You allude to the unexpected separation between himself and father, and not to any failure on his part to sustain the reputation of his family?” “Oh, he has made a good position for himself, and earned universal consideration. But that doesn’t weigh against the prejudices of pedple, roused by such eccentricities ae have distinguished the conduct of these two men." "Alas!” she murmured, frightened to the soul for the first time, both by his manner and his words. “You know and I know,” he went on with a grimness possibly suggested by his subject, “that no mere whim Hee back of such a preposterous seclusion as that of Judge Ostrander .behind his double fence. Sons do not cut loose from fathers or fathers from sons without good cause. You can see, then, that the peculiarities of their mutual history form but a poor foundation for any light refutation of this scandal, should It reach the public mind. Judge Ostrander knows this, and you know that he knows this; hence your distress. Have I not read your mind, madam?” “No one can read my mind any more than they can read Judge Ostrander’s,” she avowed in a last desperate attempt to preserve her secret “You may think yoh have done so, but what assurance can you have of the fact?" “You are strong in their defense," said he, “and you will need to be if the matter ever comes up. The shadows from Dark Hollow reach far, and engulf all they fall upon." CHAPTER XI. Changes. "Reuther, sit up here close by mother and let me talk to you for a Httle while." "Yes, mother; oh, yes, mother." Deborah felt the beloved head pressed close to her shoulder and two soft arms fall about her neck. "Are you very unhappy? Is my Httle one pining too much for the old days?” A closer pressure of the head, a more vehement clasp of the encircling arms, but no words. , They were sitting in the dark, with just the light of the stars shining through the upper panes of the one unshaded window. Deborah, therefore, had little to fear from her daughter’s eye, only from the sensitiveness of her touch and the quickness of her ear. Alas, in this delicately organized girl these were both attuned to the nicest discrimination, and before the mother could speak Reuther had started up, crying: “Oh, how your heart beats! Something has happened, darling mother; something which —" “Hush, Reuther; it is only this: When I came to Shelby it was with a hope that I might some day smooth the way to your happiness. But it was only a wild dream, Reuther; and the hour has come for me to tell you so. What joys are left us must come in other ways; love unblessed must be put aside resolutely and forever.” She felt the shudder pass through the slender form which had thrown itself again at her side; but when the young girl spoke it was with unexpected bravery and calm. “I have long ago done that, mamma. I’ve had no hopes from the first. The look with which Oliver accepted my refusal to go on with the ceremony was one of gratitude, mother. I can never forget that. Relief struggled with grief. Would you have me cherish any further illusion after that?” "Then you will not think me unkind or even untender if I say that every loving thought you give now to Oliver is hurtful both to yourself and to me. Doni indulge in them, my darling. Put your heart into work or into music, and your mother will bless you. Won’t it help you to know this, Reuther? Your mother, who has had griefs, will bless you.” “Mother, mother!” The next morning found Deborah pale—almost as pale as Reuther. Knowing its cause herself, she did not invite the judge’s inquiries; and another day passed: With the following morning she felt strong enough to open the conversation which had now become necessary for her peace of mind. She waited till the moment when, her work all done, she was about to leave his presence. Pausing till she caught his eye, which seemed a little loath, she thought, to look her way, she observed, with perhaps unnecessary distinctness: “I hope everything is to your mind. Judge Ostrander. I should be very sorry not to make you as comfortable as is possible under the circumstances.” Roused a Httle suddenly, perhaps, from thoughts quite disconnected with th oee of material comfort, he nodded

with the abstraction of one who agnizes that some sort of acknowledgment is expected from him; then, seeing her stlH waiting, added politely: "I am very well looked after, if that la what you mean, Mrs. Scoville. Bela could not do any better—if he ever did ae well." "I am glad,” she replied, thinking with what humor this would have struck her once. "I—l ask because, having nothing on my mind but housekeeping, I desire to remedy anything which is not in accordance with your exact wishes.” His attention was caught and by the very phrase she desired. "Nothing on your mind but housekeeping?” he repeated. “I thought you had something else of a very par-

She Held Out Her Hand With a Cordial "Thank You.”

tlcular nature with which to occupy yourself.” “I had; but I have been advised against pursuing it The foHy was too great" . "Who advised you?” “y The words came short and sharp, just as they must have come in those old days when he confronted his antagonists at the bar. “Mr. Black. He was my husband's counsel, you remember. He says that I should only have my trouble for my pains, and I have come to agree with him. Reuther muet content hefself with the happiness of Hvlng under this roof; and I, with hope of contributing to your comfort." (TO BE CONTINUED.)

THIS CHICKEN WELL DRESSED

Idaho Biddy Has a Full-Dress Flannel Coat and Seems to Be Proud of it. The proudest chicken in Boise lives on West State street The bird has no medals for pedigree, no certificates for being a champion layer, no diplomas for good behavior, or unusual size. Yet without any of these attainments, this fowl is the observed of all observera Citizens go blocks out of their way to see the bird, which struts with pride before their view. This fowl claims the distinction of being the only bird in Boise to possess a swallow-tail overcoat. Its owner takes a personal interest in all her hens, and it was with some concern that she noticed during the summer that one of the late spring chickens failed to develop any feathers on its back. z When the cool evenings came on last fall the bird seemed to feel the cold, and its owner made from an old flannel shirt a unique coat, modeled after a full-dress coat, with no front to speak of, but plenty of back and tail. Slits were arranged for the bird's wings, apd the fowl seems to others in the coop to be particularly proud of the costume.

No Profit In Irish Sugar Beets.

While sugar beets can be successfully grown in-Ireland, writes Consul Wesley Frost, from Queenstown, their culture would probably not be profitable, according to a statement just Issued by the head of the department of agriculture and technical instruction for Ireland. The fact has been established that a normal price for sugar beets will yield less per acre than the normal prices for potatoes or mangels. As the sugar beet Industry would not be successful under the ordinary conditions of peace, the department does not feel "prepared to take, directly or indirectly, any responsibility for advising Irish farmers to grow beet root.” It Is added that whatever may be the results of England’s exclusion of sugar, therefore, in Scotland and England, it seems safe to assume that sugar production will not be developed in Ireland.—New York Times.

Church Tithes.

There is no sum voted for the Church of England in the annual Budget of Great Britain. The church derives most of her income from tlthea These were gifts made to the church by her children, who could not give the whole, but willed a portion of their property or income to her for ever The government permitted the collection of these tithes, which gave effect to the wills be queathlng them.

RUSSIA’S ROAD TO TURKEY

BLOCKED or hampered by the naval forces of the Turks on the Black sea, the soldiers of the czar ordered to invade Asia Minor have had to follow an overland route to reach Transcaucasia and thence to move further southward into Asiatic Turkey. This trail has led them through some of the most imposing scenery in the world, by way of the wonderful Georgian military road, which mounts nearly eight thousand feet skyward in climbing across the formidable Caucasian range. A map of the region in Question will show that the Caucasian range is flanked by substantially parallel railroads, running on the north and south side of the mountains. Reaching from Vladikafkaz on the north to Tiflis on the south is the Georgian military road over which traffic is conducted by means of horses because the grades are too much for the steam locomotive. At times on the way as many as eight horses are hitched to the post coaches in order to negotiate the climb. The toil of the ascent alternates with the hazards of the downward trail and the dangers of the sharp turns and the tremendous declivities along which the highway skirts at times. Until a little over a hundred years ago the barbaric, freebooting mountaineers dominated the pass, but then the Russian government took things In hand and began the building of the present road, which opened the route to wheeled vehicles, frequent military stations providing the needful safeguard to travelers and points where relays of horses could be had. The route from Vladikafkaz to Tiflis by way of the Darlel pass is a matter of a little short of 133 miles. .According to Annette M. B. Meakin, in her book on Russia, the Georgian military road is divided into twelve stages, beginning at Tiflis, in Asia, and ending at Vladikafkaz, in Europe. The seventh post station is Mleta, in the valley of the Aragva, 4,961 feet above the sea, and set where the for-est-covered mountains grow balder and push their summits sykward bare and razorlike, amid a general setting

of increasing wildness. From Mleta to the next post station, at Goudaour, a distance of less than ten miles, the road zigzags back and forth interminably as it climbs the intervening altitude of a little short of 3,000 feet. Goudaour is 7,957 feet above sea level, and there, according to Miss Meakin, “the mountain tops were covered with snow; deep and gloomy ravines, jagged cliffs, a valley of mountains, a sea of rocks and rents” opened before the eye. At the ninth post station, on the way to Vladikafkaz, is Kobe, 6,570 feet in the air, and between Kobe and the next station of Kasbek is the Dariel pass, “which, cut in the rocky mountainside, skirts the wide valley of the River, Terek. It is a gloomy and impressive bit of scenery. Bare black rocks hang out over us as we round a dizzy corner and below, far down in the valley, the River Terek gurgles like a tiny stream.” Here it is that Mount Kasbek, snowclad and sheer in i£s abrupt rise, reaches heavenward to a height of 16,593 feet. The Georgian road is an engineering achievement of the first order, and it is now repaying Russia for all she has sepnt upon it in the past. Of Tiflis, the southern terminus of this road, the National Geographic society says: There can be few more wonderful landscapes than those around this ancient capital of the Georgian kingdom, now the center of Russian government in the Caucasus. The city is spread over the floor of a valley on both sides of the River Koor. It is purely a city of the East, the nearest approach to western life being in the wide-spaced Russian quarter. It is the hub of the Russian province of Caucasia; situated almost equally distant from the Caspian and the Black sea, connected with the leading ports of both waters and with the Russian hinterland by rail; and placed in the center of a web of military roads and trails which make the country accessible. It is a city of great value to the possessors of Caucasia, both in peace and war, as a commercial distributing center and as an advanced base.