6 THE WHISTLER. Throughont the sunny day ho whistled on his way. On high and low, and gay and sweet. The melody rang down the street- Till all the weary, worn and gray, Smiled at their work, or stopped to say: "Now God he thanked that youth is fair. And light of heart and free from care." What time lIIH wind blew high, he whis tled and went by. Then clarion clear on every side The song was scattered far and wide; Like birds above a storm that fly, The silver uoles soared to the sky: "Oh! soul whose courage does not fail But witli a song can meet the gale." And when the rain fell fast, he whistled us he passed: A little tune the whole world knew, A song of love, of love most true; On through the mist it came at last To one by sorrow overcast: "Dear Christ." she said, "by night and day Thry serve who praise—as well as pray." And when the fog hung gray, he whistled on his way. The little children in his train, With rosy lips caught up the strain. Then I, to hear what he might say, Followed with Ihein. that somber day; "is it for joy of life." quoth 112. "Good sir. you go u-whlstllng by?" lie smiled and sighed and shook his head: "I cheer my own sad heart." he said —Virna Sheard, in Canadian Magazine. r i h GAMBLING | WITH FATE By WILLIAM WALLACE COOK Aathor of "Thi» Oold Gleaner*: A Story of the ('vani'le Tatikit," " Wilby* !>an, M "llii Friend lh« hn-my." "Roger* of Butte," Ric., Etc. (Copyright, 1903, by William Wallace Cook) CHAPTER XVI. DARREL ACCUSED AS McCLOUD. "Ah, the marshal," said Darrel, re lieved to find that the officer was one of the first to be drawn to the scene. "I am glad you have come." The marshal pushed farther into the room, followed by his companion. "What's been going on here?" "Murgatroyd and I were settling an old score," answered Darrel, pulling his disarranged clothing into shape, "but 1 am glad to say that it did not result; seriously." "Where is Murgatroyd now?" The officer had peered about the place and had even cast a hasty glance into the inner office. "I have Uim —safe," Darrel smiled grimly. "Who is this gentleman?" he asked, turning to the thick-set man with the leather case under his arm. "That's Doc Paytoti," replied the be wildered marshal. "Not the same gentleman who had charge of the body of Sturgis?" "I am the coroner," spoke up Pay ton, "and held the inquest." "Better and better," said Darrel. "Naturally, gentlemen, you are curi ous. You see me follow Murgatroyd upstairs to this place and later you hear sounds of a scuffle and come to investigate. What you see merely in creases your curiosity and suspicion. 1 want to talk with the two of you and beg of you to set a couple of those chairs upright and be seated." As he finished, Darrel settled him self comfortably on one corner of the desk. The marshal was inclined to parley on Murgatroyd's account. "I want to understand this thing," he began, aggressively, and Darrel in terrupted him with: "Precisely! The quickest way to un derstand it is by listening to what I wish to say. If anything has gone wrong, 1 am here to be held to ac count." "He's right about that. Merrick," said the doctor, righting one of the overturned chairs and seating himself in it. "Let's hear him." Merrick had an uncomfortable feel ing that matters were strangely wrong, somehow, and he picked up the lamp and stepped apart to survey the other room. He came back directly and again set the lamp on the desk. "I don't like the looks of things," he grumbled as he sat down, "and we Keem to be leaving the whole matter to you entire. But I reckon you can fire away." Darrel, fearing interruption from the ■vault, plunged into the subject at once. "What was the verdict of the cor oner's jury in the Sturgis case, doc tor?" he asked. "ft was found that Sturgis met his death by a bullet. 45-caliber, fired by one Nathan Darrel, of San Francisco," returned the doctor. "Were the proofs of Darrel's guilt quite conclusive?" "The jury found them so." "But you, in your own mind; were you quite convinced?" "I don't recognize your right to ask such a question. I am the coroner and I have repeated to you the jury's ver dict." In spite of this Darrel could see plainly that Dr. Payton had an honest doubt. "What's the use of splittin' hairs?" "aid the marshal. "And what has the murder of Sturgis got to do with your row with Murgatroyd?" "Just this, Mr. Merrick," returned Darrel, steadily; "Murgatroyd killed Sturgis—" "What!" exploded Merrick, starting tip. The doctor was less amazed, al though not. a little startled. Darrel repeated his words. "Why," exclaimed the marshal, ' Sturgis and Murgatroyd was I'rlemJal" "Murgatioyd would have no motive," aided the doctor. "Murgatroyd and Darrel were not frionds," said Darrel. "That's no news," came from the marshal. "It don't bear on Murga troyd and Sturgis, anyhow." "Yes, it does," persisted Darrel; "Murgatroyd killed Sturgis in such a way that they would hang Darrel for it." 'Preposterous!" declared Dr. Pay ton. "You're a fool," averred the marshal, frankly. "Do you think Murgatroyd would shoot a friend down in cold blood just for the sake of having Dar rel hung?" "Did you ever know Murgatroyd to make a play that wasn't cruel, crafty and safe?" asked Darrel. "He's a snake and would trail his slimy length over any friendship for the sake of getting his fangs into an enemy's throat." "Be reasonable, young man," said the doctor, impatiently, "be reason able." "Talk's cheap," supplemented the marshal. "It would take strong proofs to make me believe anything like that." "Gentlemen," resumed Darrel, "I happen to know that Nate Darrel came to this town on the day the murder was committed. He came to Sandy Bar to settle his differences with Mur gatroyd and, directly after he reached the camp, made straight for this office. "Murgatroyd was out in the hills and Darrel went into that private office and wrote a line for him. Murgatroyd had forgotten his revolver and left it behind—it was lying on the desk in front of Darrel as he wrote his note. "Before leaving the room Darrel marked every cartridge in that gun—" It was then the doctor's turn to leap from his chair. "You know Darrel did that?" he in terrupted. "I do." "Why did he do it?" "Because he feared Murgatroyd would shoot him down from behind." "Still," returned the doctor, sinking back into his chair, "I can't see—" "In his pocket-book Darrel placed a slip of paper stating that, if he met with foul play, the coroner would please recall that Lester Murgatroyd had sworn to shoot him on sight; and that, if the bullet that took Darrel's life bore the letter 'M,' it would be found to correspond with other car tridges in Murgatroyd's revolver." Dr. Payton drew a deep breath and Merrick straightened out in his chair, MURGATROYD CAM 10 CHARGfNG OUT, REVOLVER IN HAND. thrust his hands into his trousers' pockets and peered at Darrel through half-closed eyes. "The bullet that killed Sturgis bore such a mark," said Payton, slowly. "I probed for it myself and it hasn't been out of my possession since " "Why in the fiend's name didn't you tell nie something about that?" asked Merrick, his indignant eyes on the doc tor. "The jury knew of it," answered Payton. "We all kept quiet about it, hoping that something like this might develop." "But what do we know about this fellow?" queried Merrick, jerking his head toward Darrel; "he's a stranger in camp and his story may be cut out of whole cloth." "A month has elapsed since the shooting," went on Payton, addressing Darrel. "Why have you kept silent so long?" ' The delay was unavoidable," replied Darrel. "Possibly, but the chances are it has defeated the ends of justice providing what you say is true. If we car find Murgatroyd's revolver in his posses sion, Merrick," the doctor added, turn ing to the marshal, "and if the re volver, after these four weeks, is found to contain the marked cartridges, this man proves his case." Darrel's heart leaped in his breast. He was sure of Murgatroyd's guilt and the tact that the revolver would now be found upon him —-barring the tech nical point that it had been out of his possession for the four weeks—would prove his guilt. The technical point, which Murga troyd could not prove without Darrel's help, was the only thing that could throw a cloud over Darrel's theory. Darrel was just asking himself how he should proceed in dealing with that phase of the question when another diversion occurred. Roy Lenyard stepped into the room and moved resolutely toward the group sitting around the lamp on the desk. "Mr. Merrick," said he, sharply, "I requested you to wait below until I rejoined you and the doctor." "Things happened up here, Len yard/' returned the marshal, "that we CAMERON COUNTY PRESS, THURSDAY, JUNE 16, 1904. had to look after. There was a fight of some kind, as you ran see," —Mer- rick nodded toward the overturned cabinet—"and Dot- and I breezed in. But (hat don't make no difference. Here we are antf if you've got a card up your sleeve now's your chance to play it." "Then," cried Lenyard, whirling on Darrel and leveling a forefinger in his direction, "that man is Junius McCloud anil I demand that you put him under arrest. It was he, and not Nate Darrel, that killed the man you know as Jack Sturgis!" "Holy Smoke!" roared the marshal, on his feet in a second. "Why, lie's all but proved that Murgatroyd did it. First thing 1 know you fellows 'll have it onto me—or Doc, there." CHAPTER XVII. DA It UK I. UN MAS KI3D. Darrel's amazement equaled the mar shal's and the doctor's. So firm was his belief in Murgatroyd's guilt that he had heretofore left McCioud entirely out of his calculations. Before Lenyard could follow up his. startling announcement with an ex planation, the sallow-faced clerk pushed into the room, paused, and looked around him, aghast at the dis order. "Where's —Where's Murgatroyd?" he asked. "We don't want Murgatroyd now," said Lenyard and drew close to the clerk and whispered to him. The clerk whispered a reply, five words of which Darrel happened to overhear —"down the hall —tuckered out." Who was down the hall and tuckered out? Darrel roused himself with freshened interest. "This is most astounding, young man," said he to Lenyard, with jeer ing incredulity. ' The truth comes that way, some times," returned Lenyard. ' But your accusation is arrant nen sense," persisted Darrel, feigning an gry impatience. "These gentlemen"— he waved his hand toward Payton and Merrick —"will not believe you. t have already proved my case against Murga troyd." "Not exactly proved it," qualified the doctor. "The revolver has yet to be found and examined. In this coun try five loads don't often remain in a gun for a month. I'm not very hope ful about your end of it, although Dar rel's ruse was a clever one." "What was the ruse?" asked Len yard. The doctor told him, with now and then a word from Merrick. When the recital was finished, ex pressive looks flashed between the clerk and Lenyard. "The marking of those bullets," de clared Lenyard, "proves that McCloud killed Sturgis." "Why in the fiend's name should Mc- Cloud kill Sturgis?" asked Merrick. "It wasn't McCloud that, quarreled with Sturgis in Hawkbill's." "There couldn't have been any mo tive," spoke up the doctor, who seemed to be a stickler on that phase of tho question. "You'll not find Murgatroyd's re volver in Murgatroyd's possession," insisted Lenyard doggedly. "If you find it anywhere you'll find it in Mc- Cloud's pocket. Look and see." ' "Come on, Merrick," said Darrel, get ting up and raising his hands above his head. "You'll not find it," remarked Len yard while the marshal was making his search; "he wouldn't be so willing to let you look, if he had it. lie's got rid of it somewhere." "Any one would kuoxv the old man's gun," observed the clerk; "there ain't another like it in tte hull of Mon tana." "I've seen it a dozen times," said the marshal as he returned to his chair without finding the weapon. "You've opened this up, Lenyard, and it's up to you to make good." "Yeo," said the doctor, "and be very careful, Roy. It's a very serious mat ter." "It was serious for Darrel," an swered tho young man warmly, "to have his good name taken away from him." "Good name!" echoed Darrel deris ively. "A gambler, gentlemen," he went on, turning to the doctor and the marshal, "a man who follows the cards for a living. This boy has a peculiar way of looking at things." Lenyard grew angry. "McCloud," said he,"l told you in Hawkbill's that I wasn't done with you." "Give us your proofs," said Darrel, shortly. "Dr. Payton," continued the young man, "you know how hard 1 have worked to clear Darrel's name during the last month because I felt sure of his innocence. I did not goto you with what I had discovered because I was waiting to find this man McCloud. "On the night Sturgis was mur dered, McCloud was in that private room, there, with Murgatroyd. Mur gatroyd had been very late in getting back from the hills and he had found A letter from Darrel that Made him savage ana desperate. He looked out of the street window and saw Darrel returning to Hawkbill's afler having gone with me to the hotel. "Telling McCloud to remain where he was, Murgatroyd rushed out of the room, but did not take his revolver with him. Don't forget that point, ! gentlemen. Strange as it may seem to 1 you, Murgatroyd was so excited he did not take his revolver "McCloud picked up the weapon and ( stepped to the open window. He I leaned out, and down the street, in the glare of light from the dance-hall op -1 posite, he saw Darrel confronted by j Sturgis. He raised the revolver, sight ed carefully, and fired. Then he rushed away, pushing the weapon into his j pocket; rushed out through this very ">om. I'm telling you, and failed to see Jim Glenn who v"ttS gtauding here, ft foot, from tho door leading into (hat other room. Isn't that so, Glenn?" Lenyard appealed to the sallow-faced clerk who was leaning against the wall picking nervously at the sleeve of his coat. "That's so," said .Tim Glenn, "but it will cost me my job. and maybe a whole lot of trouble besides, when the old man hears what I've told." Merrick hitched his chair alongside of Darrel's and the doctor turned a piercing look on the clerk. "Why did you keep this information to yourself, Glenn?" he demanded. "Don't you kriow that it caused us to fix the crime on an innocent man? It drove him to his death, that is just what it did. Why didn't you come to me, or to Mr. Merrick, and tell of this?" "The old man gave me SIOO to keep my mouth shut." "Ah!" cried the doctor; "and why did he do that?" "Because he wanted Darrel hung." "Accessory after the fact!" ex claimed Payton triumphantly. "It means the penitentiary, anyhow." "That's what," assented the marshal. "Blamed tough on Darrel, though. I recken I'd better put these on you, Mc- Cloud." Merrick drew a pair of handcuffs from his pocket and leaned toward Darrel. At that juncture a faint rat tling was heard from the vault. "What's that?" came in startled tones from Payton as every eye was turned on the vault door. "It's Murgatroyd," said Darrel. "It's getting close in there and he must want to get out." "How long has he been in there?" queried Glenn. "Ever since the doctor and the mar shal came." "It's a wonder he ain't smothered to death!" exclaimed the marshal. "He plays in too much luck for that," returned Darrel'grimly. "In our strug gle here in the room we knocked over that cabinet of minerals and that piece of galena fell on Murgatroyd's head. The safe happened to be open and I hauled him into it, closed the doors and turned off the combination. 1 heard you gentlemen coming, you know, and thought it might be some of Murgatroyd's friends. I didn't want the fellow to get away until the mar shal had a chance at him. I may have been wrong in some of my surmises, but Mr. Lenyard has made it plain that, Murgatroyd will have to share in the punishment even as he has shared in the taking off of poor Sturgis. Don't put those on me just yet, Merrick. I'm unarmed and you can sit close. I can't escape. Open the vault, Jim Glenn, you know the combination, don't you?" "Yes." "Dr. Payton," pursued Darrel as Glenn moved to the vault door and began rattling the knob, "you and, Lenyard stand ready to catch Murga troyd as he comes out. Have a care, for he is armed. He has probably heard nothing of our conversation out here. Brick and mortar and two thick nesses of steel would prevent that." The marshal put his arm through Darrel's and Payton and Lenyard ranged themselves close to the vault door when Glenn swung it open. As the knob of the inner doors were turned, Murgatroyd came charging out, revolver in hand. ITo Be Continued.] Tln» Kirxt limiting Doff. It is. by the way. a curious thins that the setter should not have been used with the gun until long after tho pointer's utility in this way was rec ognized. The sportsman of Edward lll.'s time who caught pheasants and partridges in nets depended for assist ance in finding his game on a dog of some sort which was taught to "sit" or "sei," but not until the middle of the eighteenth century or therealjputs was the setter much used with the gun. The pointer, on the other hand, was imported from Spain somewhere about the beginning of the eighteenth cen tury, at the time when progressive gunners were beginning to realize that they could shoot birds flying; and the Spanish pointer, or double-nosed point er, as he is called by old writers, be came the gun dog at once. Col. Thomas Thornton, of Thornton Royal, who devoted his life to field sports, was the man who remodeled the an cestor of the modern pointer. He con sidered the dog of his day too slow, and by crossing the Spanish pointer with the foxhound obtained greater speed and stamina, but at some loss of j nose and doeiiity.—E. D. Cumming, in Gating. I.OUII its I'll urn OLI 'M Kine. A good story of an old crofter who appeared before the commission to apply for. a reduction of rent has just been told at a meeting in Glasgow. The number of cattle on the farm led Sheriff Brand to observe that surely the croft could not be in such a bad as its owner would seek to show. "Och," replied the old fellow, "you should see the bit beasties." "What like are they?" queried the sheriff. "They're as lean, sir, as Pharaoh's klne." "How lean was that?" pawkily asked the sheriff, doubtless thinking that he had cornered the applicant. But had he? Not a bit. Like a flash came back the answer: "So lean, sir, that they could only be seen in a vision."—Yorkshire Post. r«#ul-1 Etiquette Illustrnte