Behind Iron Doors

Hugh Morse looked gloomily throujrh the window of his apartment and found nothing in the view to cheer or encourage him; a high board fence 50 feet away marked the bouadary; inside the f nee two or three men labored disinally at a pile of stone, with eha.ins on their ankles, while a man in uniform sat on a bowlder and stormed at them with f hreats and curses. Hugh had stood f or hiours at tbat window, luoking at the sanie scène; the men were not alwaya the same, but there was always tic swearing oflicial on the bowlder, and the high board ience, and the pile of rock, L.nd the nianacled ankles. When he ooked from the barred window, it was to envy the men with chaina on their nnfclee, who were jiermitted to iollow the. exhilirating work of break ing rock; and' also to escape the gaze of curious miilj-y people, who cajne to the jail every day to see the murderer. as they would go to the circus tosee the sared elephant of Siam or the homed rhinoceros of África. The evening was closing in, and Hugh at in his broken ohair and counted the hours that nnist pass before his trial; he had countod the hours, and was reducing them to minutes, when the wieket in the doov was opened, ajid tho deputy sheriff presented his face at thd apertuie, saying: "There's a gentleman here wants to see you. You may come into the corridor." The door was opened and Hugh Rtepped into the dingy corridor, vvhere u stranger greeted him politely: th.: stranger was small and pale, with oold blue eyes, and was attired in black, likc a respectable undertaker in the course of hifi duty. "My name," said the stranger, "is John Pauley; I am a detective; I har? been angaged by a íriend of yourt, who vishes to lemain unknown, to wor'c in yonr behalf. Your trinl is set fortho 2d of January, and this is the lOth oí December, sü I have but litile time; teil me all that you ean, so that I may begin work intelügently." "Tbere is but little to teil," repHecl Hugh, tlespondently; "and that little seems to be all against me, aütlioug-h I a-m as innocent as a child. I was emfloyed in Mr. Wilkie's stores and had been tbere for four years. Althougli a thoroughly honest man, he was very nvaricious, and had an uncertain temper. He had promised roe, ag-ain and 'igain, an increase of salary, but tha increase never came. On tihe njght of 'he murder Mr. Wilkie worked in hi office late, and, a we ere alone, Itook advantagfi of tbe opportunity to ask him when I might expectthe promised increase; I told him that 1 was preparing to be ma.rried, and urged upon hin the fact that I had served him faithfully for years, at low wages; he lost hia lemper and abtised me so scandalously t hat I in turn becarne angry, and we had a quarrel. It is very possible thatour i oices were heard on the street outside. T gave him my resignation, and retired to the little room at the back of the tore, where I had slept every night öuring my employment n the store; I went to bed a.nd slept until dayligüt. T.he.n I went to the office, I found .Mr. 'Vilkie sitting at his desk, dea3; he had been stabbed with my knifé, whicl T had laid on the desk dnring our quarrel. I heard no sound during1 the night. M'hen I ran out to g-ive the alarm, I roticed that the front door was not 'ocked, .althoug-h I am sure I locked it beíore iny interview with Mr. Wilkie. That is all that I know about the mur1er." Mr. I'auley proceeded from the jail to a cottage in the suburbs of the íüwd ; there he was eagerly weleomed by a joung womau who, althoug-h pale and with lines of care on her brow, sugg-esting- tbat t)-ouble was no strang-er to her, was still a beauty; with feverish irupatience she inotioned the detective to a seat, and calmly he adjusted himsel in his chair and g-Ianced around the room, as though to inspeet the furniture before proceeding. Au o!d man was nodding jn a chair before the stove; an old lady was noddhig in a chair behind the stove, with a pious book in her kip. "Your father and mother?" queried Mr. Pauley. "No; my uncle and aunt; now do teil me all; have you seen him?" "I have seen him. Miss Simmons, it is a toug-h case; it will take a great deal of work to prove to his advant-nge. and my work is expensive. Do you want me to g-o ahead?" "Certamly; the little money I have is my own, and every cent of it is at jour eommand. Money! I would give my life to save Hugh, as he would for me." "How much nioney haveyou?" "Five hundred dollars." "I'm afraid I'll need it all. Now, I'll Bay omething for your comfort; Ihat young man is 110 murdei-er; ho woultln't Irill a sbeep, and I'll have him out of jail by the Ist of Jaunary. Somebody killed Wilkie. Ilugh Morse didr.'t do It. Therefore, the man who dia do it must be found. I am tlve man to find him. But I won't find hiin bere, bo I'll say good-day, Mis Simmons . After delivering these scntences in a lerky fashion, the detective prepared for his öeparture. -TIe butwH black coat up to his chin u I down the brim of his hat; for the evenitxg was growing cold, and a wild north wind rattled the window panes. "You have no overcoat with jou?" said Miss Simmons; "you must not go intö the. storm without one." She hurried away to the closet, and returnd with an old-fashioned heivy ulster. "This belongs to my brother," she said; "he is away now; you niay use it as long as you please." As she handed it to Pauley, a strange smile played around his lips, his hard eyes seemed to soften; when he departed.he was more courteous than usual, and he muttered to himself, as he walked into the storm: "For once John Pauley has experienced the novelty of being treated like a Christian. It's a caution how I such treatment will thaw a man out!" It is impossible to f.iHow the ' ments of Mr. Pauley, during the next i two weeks, in detail; he was a very busj' man; sometimes he appeared soothed and sustained by an ing trust, as though he were nearin-the goal, and again he appeared diócouiaged and perplexed. On the night before New Years he arrived at the cottage rather late. Although calm, there was enthusiasm in his eyes and cordiality in his voice, as he said: "Misa Simmons, the task is nenrly . accomplished. To-morrow I shall place the murderer in the hands of the authorities, and you may go to the jail and get your lover. Now, be calm, and I'll give you a brief outline of the story. I soon found that there was nobody in this town who had a motive for killing Wilkie, and there was nó robbery done. It was very possible that Wilkie had made enemies, though, for he was miserly and tyrannical. So I hunted up his past; it was not very hard to do, for he was one of those foolish people who keep a diary. In au old trunk I found a dozen volumes of his journal. I struggled through hundveds of pages of personal reflections and turgid weariness, and found at last what I wanted. In his younger days Wilkie was a sea captain, and a very cruel one, I have no doubt. One day, years ago, when his ship was on the Pacific o-cean, hé gave an order to an Italian sailor. It waBH't obeyed with proper alacrity, and he knocked the sailor down. The sailor made a threat, and was treated to the rope's end. Now, Miss Simmons, the Italians, or son:e öf them, are vengeful in the extreme; they can curry a ín-udge for a lifetime, and leave it as a legacy to their children. I made inquines. Suri? enough, on the day preeeding the murder of Wilkie, a swarthy man with a hand-organ and a monkey came into the town, to the great amusement of the children. I have no doubt that the swarthy man was knocked down on the deck of a ship in the Pacific ocean once upon a time. "Singularly enough, after leaving the town, this swarthy man feil down an embankmejít a few miles in the country, and bro'e his leg; and he was carried to a hut in the woods, where an old bachelor lives, and there he has been lying ever since, and the children play truant to go there and feed the monkey. He is able to walk now, and might go away unexpectodly, were it not for the fact that I have made the old bachelor a deputy of mine; and he watches the swarthy man, and will keep him there until to-morrow, when I'll go after him, and release your lover from jail. I inight have bad him here before, but there is some romance in me, and I vvanted the climax to occur oíj Xr.v Year's day;" The detective was allBOSt merry as he concluded: bul wheu MissSimnious begged him to defer the release of Hugh Morse no longer - not an hour - he grew somber, and talked in a disconnected way oí overcoats. The morning of New Year's duywas so peculiar tiuit oíd men and sages ho vere reputed weatherwise, shook thcir heads ominously, and predicted that the day would be one to be remembered. Not a bough stirred in the heavy air; the clouds ere low. and moved slowly to the north; there was audible n gentle hum, as oí the noise of a brook n the distance, and no man could teli what gave rise to jt. But these things did not disturb Mr. Pauley, as he moved actively along the highway on bis triumphal errand. He started at ilayVig-ht on foot; he had arranged for a horse and wagon for the return journe3% At eight o'clock he reached the hut in the woods and entered it. Au oíd man with a gray beard was lyingf on a cot, breathing heuvily and asleep. Pauley shook hini roug'hly, and cried: "Where's the Italian?" The old man started from bis cot and looked wildly around. "Gone! gonei" lie cried. "He was here with his monkey hen I went to sleep; he gave me something to make me sleep, for I was sick, and I trusted him." Pauley raised his hand, as thoiig-h to strike him. The STOuiul was damp u rider the trees, and Pauly soon found the track of the fugitive; he moved like a hound ! 3n the seent. And now the gentle hum : soon JonH PV blnnket was spfSM( under him and over himn' aróse sudclenly with a shriek, and the snovv in blinding masses was into. i his face; he could nö longer see hia hand when he held it before him, and the truth carne home to him that he waj lost on the prairie in a western blizzard. He stumbled against a tree thatgrew upright for a couple of fret and then bent at an angle; he placed his back to it and determined that the hut which he had left half an hour before was straight ahead; he tried to reach it; stumbling, falling, creeping and strugI gling.he progressed painfully for hours, as it seemed to him, and then, with outi stretched hand, he feit ssomething hard ; before him. "The hut. at last!" he cried, j but it was the tree he had left so long ■ ago. He stumbled on again, this time J at random; he was grcnving drowsy, and he knew that if he went to sleep he would never wake again. On, on, he dragged himself, and the fury of the storm began to abate; in a little hollow in the prairie he stumbled over something and feil; with hi hands he ex amined the something, and found it to be the form of a man. with something large on his back. It was the Italian, with his organ. "Whether we live or die, we'U stay together," said Jabn Pauley, and he took from his pocket a pair of handcuffs; he snapped one iron loop on the Italian's wrist and the other on his own, and then unable to struggla longer against his fate, he went to sleep. The New Year's day was far gone when the deputy's red face appeared atibe hole in the iron door, with a smile that was unusual. "A lady to see you, Mr. Morse," he said; "you may step in to the corridor." Hugh accepted the invitation, and a pair of arms were thrown about his neck. "You are free, Hugh," cried a glad voice, and tears of happiness began to flow. And when all the amazement and tears were over Miriam explained how it came about. Only a part of her narrative is neccessary to ours: "And that noble detective, as he was sinking to sleep, manaeled to what he supposed was a corpse, thought he would make one more effort to be saved; and he shot off all the cartxidges in his revolver, and, do you know, he was within ten feet of a house and didn't know it; and the people rushed out and found the two and carried them into the house. The Italian was revived. but his hours were numbered, and he confessed, and he died an hour ago; and here is the order for your release." On the next day Miss Simmons went to the bank without a sigh to xvithdraw her little fortune for the detective; she took the roll of bilis and went to his hotel. Mr. Pauley, the clerk said, althoug-h very sick, had left by the midnight train; he had left a note for her The note read as follows: ' "Miss Miriam Simmons: I am a hard and nnscrupulous mar.; perhaps training and clrcumstances have made rr.e so. But down In the bottom of my heart there is a little human nature. You treatecï me like a hristian. You thousht of my comfort when you had trouble of your own, and gave me the use of your brether's overcoat. With your permission, I v,;!! keep the coat, and cali our account sqi:are. I leave the town before my worse nature gets uppermost. To-morrow I might vcant the money ; for, as I said, I am a hard and unscrupulous man.