I . .... ... 0 T
, THE BEE: OMAHA.. SUNDAY, JUNK 12. 1921.
June Graduating Class of South High School
. J
1. Mildred Means.
. l.uillj niiea.
T. SI a 1." Kin sr.
4. . LI Miner.
t. Paulino Moron.
I. Ci. lirvoika. 11. Carl Holmberg. K. Sadye Levey.
'.. Ruth Olllet. 12. Elsie Chlzek. IT. Fred Bachman.
S. Bertha C.irthoffer. 13. Clark Nelman. 1S Vera Olson.
9. Leah Rokor. K. Helen Corcoran. 19. Albert Grother.
10. Louis Brandstad. 15. a. Broadwell. CO. C. Tucker.
(.
The Three Dead Men
(Continued From Tuge One.)
ona gal in Georgetown now, an she hab no
friends but Solly, an' she terrible fond ob him."
"He treated her well?"
"Berry kind an' good to her. She tell yo' de
same If yo' ask her."
Farther Inquiries respecting the character
and hi3tory of John Digsle and Solly Lawson
conflrnied these reports of wife and mother. In
. dependent witnesses agreed with them and with
An-os Slanningr, who had already told me the
1a Jkimo storv. It was Indeed, a curious coincidences
' '-""fT. . ., 1, . J l.-.l H 1 ..1.
r liiai ino inrco uc;iu men iiiu an uu wiluuul
Hiiy sinister in titii5vi uuaiy unouu.i miami.
Of tho young lialf-casto, though it was clear he
had beeiv lawless and more or less disreputable,
- it seemed unlikely that he could have wakened
Bufiicient enmity to lose his life for his sins.
To explain why Henry Slannins had gone
out in the night challenged me as the pregnant
point; and given the reason for that most un
usual ftcp, everything: else might have followed
from it: but no reason offered; at every turn
in this exasperating inquiry I was headed off
by a blank wall, as if seemed, for purpose and
. motive, though they must have existed absolute-
' ' ly beyond my power to discover.
I Henry Slanning had clearly gone where he
V knew John Diggle was to- be found on his rounds;
but whether he bad actually sought Diggle, or
another, could never be known, unless a living
' , man furnished the information. None, how
ever, came forward; there was a extraordinary
lack of all evidence; for in such cases, nine times
out of ten, chance offers a foothold for a first
step, and this or that man or women, from out
side the case, Vili appear with some incident or
observation that may open the way to inquiry
or suggest a train of research. But no such
thing happened for me. Not a soul bore any
testimony of any sort whatever, and not a soul
actually came within the radius of the case.
Here, apparency, one stood confronted with
three barefaced and deliberate murders, com
mitted in a night on a small island, yet not a
shadow of any motive explained them and not
a living being could fairly be pointed at as sus-
L- pect in any degree.
I made very copious notes and, of course,
pursued inquiry through many minor channels,
N which all endochin failuro and contributed no
light. I stood in the disagreeable position of
being unable to make a case, and after a
month's very hard and conscientious work was
forced to own it to myself. A loss of self-esteem
resulted. I began all over again, only to com-
. Sete another circle of failure. Nor could it be
called comparative unsuccess. The futility of
my investigation was complete. I arrived at no
theory of any sort or kind, and though once Ij
glimpsed the truth darkly, aa afterwards ap
peared, I wandered from the right road the
moment it began to appear impossible.
f My last week at Barbados, the last of six
spent upi the subject, was devoted largely to
Amo3 Slannlng. He had been extraordinarily
kind to me personally, and insisted upon my
- spending a" few days at the Felican estate as
his guest before I left tho West Indies. He was
frankly disappointed at my failure, but not
more than I confessed myself to being. It is
true that, though trained to this work by in-
V stinctand native bent, with already some fair
share of success in various cases, I failed sig
nally here.
I could only admit and hope my chief might,
prove more fortunate. We talked much of
Henry Slanning; indeed, I kept the conversa
t tion to him as far as one decently might, and
f i only w ith his twin brother; for I now saw the
truth of what men had told me that Amos en
tertained an opinion of his brother's character
that differed from the truth. He did not under
value his rectitude, or the regard and respect
universally extended to the dead man; but he
had never fathomed a character very different
from his own, and probably never felt, even if
hehd seen, tho intellectual and inquisitive side
of Henry Slanning's character.
For example, when I returned to the pos
sibility of suicide, a thought 'that haunted me
in connection with the case, though the facts '
were there to prove murder, Amos Slanning as
$jl sured me that nothing was more unlikely, and
V even vhen the revolver was proved to have
been bought in England by his brother, he
' j Ftoutly protested that it could not have been
purchased with any thought of such a purpose.
Other, however, saw no improbability in the
idra o? Henry Slanning's suicide under certain
circumstances; but, since obvious murder and
not suicide confronted us, they saw no object
In raising the Question. s
I begged for a photograph of the dead man
to take home with the rest of my elaborate
The uiaturi fc lent me resembled
SI. K. Madsen. 2S.
Leo Fried. 17.
S3. Ruth Dale ;8.
24. F.dwin Swanson. 9.
15. Edward Harlan. SO.
Amos closely in feature, but the expression was
different subtler and more melan8holy. In
deed, it was a face where unrest had niade a
home. End one had judged the man who looked
so was defeated of his ambitions. Tet no cyni
cism clouded his features and his mouth was as
kindly as his brother's and no firmer. The
photo?iaph had been taken before Slanning's
love affair.
What proved more interesting to me came
into my hands by accident two days before I
left the island on my homeward way. Amos,
searching among his brother's things, had
found a diary, which contained nothing that
threw illumination upon the past and apparently
abstained of set purpose from any mention of
Henry's romance; but, in addition to this, he
discovered a pile of manuscript the musings
Sot an intellectual man on a variety of subjects,
all of direct human interest.
Study of Henry Slanning's personal library
had already convinced me of his activity in the
domain of thought, while Lady Warrender had
.confirmed the fact. His books were for the
most part philosophical, and I found a trans
lation of Gomperz that had evidently occupied
much ct his time, and translations of other Ger
man writers, including the English version in
20 volumes of Nietzsche. He had Gilbert Mur
ray's Greek tragedians, also, with Plato and
Aristotle deeply read. His interest evidently
ran on the great pagans.' As to his own writ
ings, they reminded one of the "Anatomy of
Melancholy." They abounded in curious quo
tations and tended to the morbid; but they were
full of illumination as to the character of the
man revealed in his interests.
He had compiled on love, passion, ambi
tion, patience, duty, suicide, justice, free
thought and free will as opposed to destiny. He
was clftarly a rationalist at this stage of his
life, and acknowledged no supernatural inhi
bition to conduct; but his sense of duty was ex
quisitely keen; he debated questions of justice
with a mind as impartial as distinguished, and
one felt in tho presence of a man who was al
most weighed down by his obligations to his
fellow creatures. He wrote of mastery and
domination, of craft and the unhappy need for
falsehood in the affairs of life, of heredity and
environment as rival or twin forces in develop
ment of character.
I begged these voluminous documents, since,
in my (.pinion, they must prove of great value
to "buveen when he came to investigate Henry
Slann'ng's fate; and his brother was content
that I should tako them with me.
"I shall publsh the whole thing presently"
.he assured me. "It wll be a valuable memorial
of Henry and help to show the world that he
was a remarkable man and a greater thinker
than people supposed."
And so I left the West Indies (picking up
the steamship Don on its return voyage from
Jamaica), and departed grateful for much kind
ness and consideration, the richer for a good
friend or two men who are still my friends
and disappointed and chagrined to the very
root3 of my being in this blank failure to ad
vance by. a single fruitful speculation the prob
lcma I had gone so many miles and worked so
exceedingly hard to resolve.
My utter failure had one good result, for it
awoke the interest of Michael Duveen and he
did not conceal his astonishment at a fiasco
so complete.
"A dozen theories, of course, I had," I ex
plained, "but each in turn came up against a
blank negation. I could find no sort of explana
tion that fitted all the facts worse, I could find
no explanation that fitted an of them. So far
as I could discover, as a result of sleepless
search, these three men had not between them
a real enemy in the world, nor was it possible
to meet anybody living, or hear of anybody
living, who can gain anything by the death of
any of them". You'll say, of course, that Amos
Slanning gains; but in reality he does not, for
he and Henry had practcally everything in com
mon and were very deeply attached to each
other. ' . '
"If one thing is certain, where all is so un
certain, I should say it was the absolute in
nocence of Amos Slanning. The weirdest thing
is, that against the evidence of my own sense
and the fact of murder duly proved murder,
of course, by a person unknown I still find
my mind coming back and back to tho convic
tion that it simply cannot be. There was no
body on earth to rnurder Slanning; but there
was quite sufficient reason for him to commit
suicide. But he didn't."
Duveen patted me on the shoulder.
"We shall see whether you are to be for
given," he said. "Tou have at least roused my
curiosity and I shall better judge when I set to
work on your notes, it you have failed as hope
lessly as you imagine. Meanwhile there is plenty
to do. Come and dine with me a week hence,
if nothing happens to prevent you; then you
shall bear your sentence, or your acquittal, as
Glltner Hill.
K. Thompson.
Frank Ourada.
Dolores Partsch.
Gail Hamilton.
31. Mildred Okerberg. "S. .Tanet Brum.
. Edwin Glaesel. ?". Elsie Chlzek.
31. .1. T. Curran. 8. Albina Kostal.
"4. Lucille Hayhurst.E9. F.. Langhelne.
Irving Foley. 40. Clyde Gelter.
the case may be. The change has done you
good save for yr'ir remorseful expression. I
never saw you looking so well."
Thus he dismissed me and I felt glad to
think of other things until the evening came
on which I was to dine with him. He put me
off for a farther week, however, but saw me at
his office and asked a few questions concerning
the Wekt Indian problem. These I answered,
and ho made no comment on my replies.
Then I dined with him and, after the meal,
he read me the following report:
"I have. solved the problem," he said, "and
I am absolutely convinced in my own mind that
it is correctly solved. Whether those most vital
ly interested, however, will accept the solution,
is another question."
"Solved it?" I gasped.'
"To my own satisfaction," he repeated; "and
I shall lie disappointed if not to yours also. Tou
are not to blame. You did everything that I
should, or could, have done myself. Y'ou
lacked the necessary synthetic inspiration to
put the pieces of the puzzle together after col
lecting them that is all."
"That is everything." .
"You were right, but let appearances tempt
you away from the truth. Your intuition had
only to be followed, but, basely, you deserted
it."
"How could I follow it against an absolute
fact?"
"My dear friend, no fact is a'bsolute."
r "But murder can't be suicide."
"Murder may be suicide and suicide may be
murder. Don't make rash assertions; but light
your cigar and listen. I'm rather pleased with
this; though I repeat it is quite likely that no
body but our noble selves will appreciate It at
its true, value. From your description of Amos
Planning I am quite sure that he will not.
Therefore, let us expect no reward."
Then he read me his solution of the mystery.
"Only through a close and exhaustive study
of character is it possible to reach any explana
tion of this problem; and in the case of Mr.
Henry Slanning, on whose death the destruction
of the lesser men, John Diggle and Solly Law
son, will be found to depend, ample material
for an estimate of his complex temperament
exists. Not only from the facts recorded con
cerning him, but also from his own disserta
tions and meditations he may be measured; and
it is from my estimate of him, built on elaborate
data, that I propound tho following theory and
reconstruct ' the incidents which deprived him
and the ether two victims of their lives.
"Emphatically Solly Lawson's end forms a
part of the larger problem, for I find in him a
very vital component of the whole. Accident
involved him in the heart of the catastrophe,
and, without him, we should have had one dead
man Instead of three and a tragedy of an interesting-
psychological nature, but no mystery
whatever. For the mystery now to be ex
plained, is not the premeditated work of man,
but the blind operation of chance.
"Let us then glance first at character, and
take tho dead in rotation. As I shall show, we
are concerned alone with them. No undiscov
ered villains in hiding; no living man, unless it
be myself, yet understands the secret. These
three alone are responsible for their own un
doing; or it would be mora correct to say that
an egregious action of Henry Slanning precipi
tated the death of the two humbler personages.
"Henry Slanning we find to be a man of
cultured and refined tastes, averse from even
the incidental violence of sport. Mrs. .Jane
Diggle said of him that 'he could not kill a
scorpion.' He was shrewd, sagacious, and a
good man of business. The power of wealth ho
inherited and did not abuse. He worked hard
and with an exemplary humanity and considera
tion for air he employed. He was generous,
thoughtful and kind hearted; nor did he lack
for ambition beyond his own prosperity and the
well-being of his many employes, for we find
him accepting civil offices in Barbados and de
voting no small measure of his time to unpaid
labor for the general weal.
"This is the other man and the personality
familiar to his brother, his friends and ac
quaintances; but there is another Henry Slan
ning. an 'intellectual of inquiring spirit, a cease
less searcher after curious knowledge, a volum
inous reader, and a keen thinker along certain
lines. Ho is interested in many things, but cer
tain subjects possess for him a peculiar fascina
tion, and one above all others would seem per
sistently to intrigue his mind.
"It is a morbid subject hardly to be asso
ciated with a prosperous, hale, and popular
young man of 33; but there can be no doubt of
the fact, since not only was it reported to my
colleague from more than one quarter in the
course of his independent inquiry, but we also
find I'. an ever present theme of Henry Slan
ninr's careful memoranda. He commits himself
to a definite opinion upon it; he ra- '.cks pro
fane literature; for his support and Justin
41. John Rcjsdorf.
43. Pearl Pearson.
43. Alva Chambers.
44. J. Shainholtz.
45. Marie Gorman.
4. W. Hihbeler. f 1. Harry Murdock.
47. Hugh Hodgen. 62. Louise GJertson.
48. Barbara Flcenec. 6 1. .T. Doksansky.
'9. Josepl Fetr. ti Fred M'Carron.
10. D. Flolcher. f'5. E. Mansell.
flcation for hi3 conclusion in Christian history.
"To this we will return. For the' moment it
is necessary to show how what possessed, in the
first place, no more than an abstract and aca
demic interest for Henry Slanning, rose to be
come a personal problem and a personal temp
tation. He had tasted what life could offer and
had, apparently, reached to the summit of his
own ambitions, when there came into his life
a new and tremendous experience. He fell in
love for the first time. His brother, who was
never absent from him, assures that he had not
before declared or revealed any affection for -a
woman, and though we have no absolute proof
of this, since in the case of his known attach
ment, Mr. Amos Slanning was entirely ignorant
of It until after his death though, therefore,
we cannot say with conviction that Henry never
loved before, it is-easonable to assume that no
mastc: -passion overwhelmed him until he found
himself in love with Miss May Warrender.
"It is certain that he was deeply attached
to her, though his reserved and sensitive na
ture concealed the fact from all but the young
l?dy herself. He paid his devotions with such
delicacy, such humility, and such refinement as
might be expected from such a man; and we
may assume he was sanguine, for his Jife had
moved easily and successfully. He had much
to offer and the object of his affections, as we
know, was inexperienced and declares that for
a long time she did not appreciate the signifi
cance of his friendship. Few girls, who did not
yet know the. meaning of love, would have re
fused him; and she had in all innocence wel
comed his advances, so that we may assume
he felt little doubt of acceptance.
"I labor thus in order to dwell on the ex
tent of Mr. Slanning's disappointment when he
heard that his hope was vain; and I believe that
so violent and complete was the shock of the
news, that a man who never appears to have
loved life for itself, was thrown into a very
furnace of disillusionment and for the time be
ing, at least, found existence a tyranny no long
er to be endured. With his rare mental en-
tlowments it is reasonable to suppose that, given
time, he would have survived his terrible ex
perience and recovered from his disappoint
ment in the maner of a normal man; but he
permitted himself no time. He turned to the
subject of his philosophic meditations and re
search, and under this hard blow of fate a fate
that hau always used him kindly until the pres
ent he found' in that themp no longer a pre
occupation for thought, but an invitation to ac
tion. "That theme, the ever recurring obession of
his mental activity, was suicide. And the fact
appears in his own handwriting a thousand
times. Again and again he opens on some other
subject, yet, like a phantom in the noonday of
intelligent considerations upon love, hope, faith,
honor, duty and other subjects worthy of a
high-minded and altruistic spirit, there creeps
into tho argument self-destruuction. He cannot
evade it; there is for him a fascination in the
topic that brings him back again and again. It
vitiates his thinking; it is a blood-red thread
woven through the fabric of his thoughts. He
exhausts literature in his search for every high
examj.le and significant reference to self-destruction.
"He held with the great pagans that to live
in want, dishonor or suffering was folly. Ho
echoed Cato, Pomponius, Atticus, Epicurus. We
find him quoting Seneca: 'Malum est in neces
sitate vivere; necessitas nulla est:' that it i3
miserable to live in need, but there is no need
so to do. He agroes with Marcus Aurclius, that
if the cabin smokes, a wise man takes leave of
it. Ho says with Quintilian: 'Nemo nisi sua
culpa diu dolet' no man endures suffering save
through his own fault. But he is not content
to justify the practice of suicide from the
pagan alone; it is not enough that the Medea
and Persians, the Greeks and Romans are with
him and that all nations of antiquity furnish
admlrabie and laudable examples of what in
Christian eyes is generally regarded as a sin.
He seeks instances through the sacred Jewish
writings and finds in the Apocrypha an au
thentic instance, when Razis, one of the elders
of Jerusalem, slays himself (in II. Maccabees)
and is applauded by the historian for so doing.
We find him also concerned with lights of the
Christian church l'elagia and Sophronia, can
onized lor their saintly self-destruction; and of
men, especially Jacques du Chastel, that bishop
of Soissons who charged an army single-handed
and gloriously committed felo-de-se for his
faith.
"Then, having concluded with Cicero, that
it is agreeable to nature in a wise man' to take
leave of life at its height of prosperity, ho writes
a learned essay on a saying from Josephu, that
he who dies sooner or lives longer than he
ought, is equally a coward. So he goes 'about
it and about,' but cannot leave the question for
any time, but it draws him forcibly again.
"With respect to Henry Slanning, then, I
ftffirffl itel ilia fiiarEfiMfflinj is, lays,
6. M. Kjargoard. M. K. Prucha.
57. Gertrude O'Shea. f 2. .f. M. Curran.
6S. Esther Hansen. Rose Dolezal.
69. Florence Oworak.'i4. C. Fitzgerald.
60. Dorothy Smith. to. Dwich: Frltts.
.. Florence Titter.
P7, Georgia Reeves.
M. Sarah KJelldln.
f9. Loretta Grim.
70. Helen Burton.
life lost its flavor and, led thereto by habit of
mind and a natural melancholy inclination, he
determined to destroy himself, having long con
vinced his reason that such an act is justified
and agreeable to philosophy. We will leave the
unfortunate gentleman in that resolution to the
other victims of the tragedy on Pelican estate.
"In the case of John Diggle, the night
watchman, no difficulty of character presents
itself. He was a direct, single-minded man
against whom nothing evil can be advanced a
'good husband and parent and a loyal and hon
est servant. He carried on the tradition hand
ed to him by his grandfather and father before
him. and worked with one sole purpose, the
welfare of his employers. Their relation to
him was closer than that of master and man.
They valued him for himself and in many ways
revealed their personal regard and esteem.
"This man's duty was to guard the suagr
cane plantations by night, and we find in con
nection with that "work an old but general un
derstanding and unwritten law, that thieves stole
at their personal peril. It was not uncommon
in former days for these pilfering gentlemen
to loso their lives, just as a poacher, or other
nocturnal robber in England, .also has paid the
extreme penalty. But human feeling naturally
seta p.gainst such a strenuous course of action
as principles of humanity gain ground. A hun
dred years ago the man-trap and spring-gun
were sllctioned; yet such barbaric engines are
now by law swept into oblivion. So with this
old pre-Plave proscription; and we may take it
for granted that John Diggle would not have
fired upon a thief under greater provocation
than he was ever likely to receive from one.
"In this connection, nevertheless, we find a
cloud arise on the life of John Diggle come few
days before his end. Too much importance can
not be attached to this incident since upon it
hangs the the whole theory about to be elabo
rated. We must, therefore, dwell on the state
ment made by Mrs. Diggle to my representa
tive in Barbados and fully reported to him. If
necessary, Mrs. Diggle can be further ques
tioned, though in my . judgment she has al
ready said all that need be said.
"What does she say?
"That, on a certain occasion, her husband
came in sad to breakfast. He denies his trou
ble at first; but upon his wife insisting that he
is not himself, he curses the thieves and says
that h has got to worry about them, becauuse
Mr. Henry Slanning is worrying. Mr. Henry
has told Diggle that he is falling short of his
duty and forgetting how to treat the thieves.
Then mark this Diggle says that henceforth
there shall bo no doubt about obeying and that
he will do what he is told to, 'to the end in fu
ture, whatever happens.'
"Immediately before the tragedy, therefore,
John Diggle has been reproved for laxity in his
work, and he accordingly, resolves that, come
what may come of it, he will strictly obey his
order to the letter. We shall find what those
orders were in a. moment; and there can, I
think, be little doubt that the commands issued
to Diggle by Henry Slanning were of a nature
that Diggle did not expect. They surprised
him, and we can see how. In the first place, it
was highly improbable that Slanning would
bother his head about the petty pilferings of
cane, or care a button concerning such a trifle;
and in tho second, still more improbable that
he should seek to put a stop to them by rever
sion to obsolete drastic measures that he, of all
men, would have been the first to censure.
For so I read John Dlgglo's trouble coupled with
his resolve. Ho is going to bey, regardless of
consequences; he is going to do exactly as he is
' told, 'whatever happens.' He therefore appre
hended that something might happen; but he
was under orders and did not attempt to shirk
them, though the orders had astonished and dis
mayed him.
"Leaving him also, on the threshold of the
disaster, I turn to Solly Lawson and find again
a character that presents no difficulties and can
be very fairly appreciated from the information
at ow disposal. This young half-caste is seen
. as a youth of strong animal passions, uncon
trolled and not malevolent. He was of little
worth, sensual, lazy and quick-tempered; but ho
had wit and a ready tongue and what alone
matters his attitude to his master was one of
steadfast and deserved devotion. Nor does the
fact that Solly would not scruple to steal cane de
tract from his affection for the gentlemen who had
forgiven so many sins and still employed the
poor fellow at the time of his death. Solly would
steal Henry Slanning's cane today and die for
him tomorrow. The doglike trust and affection
displayed by many negroes and half-castes is a
part of young Lawson's nature. He has ex
pressed to bis mother a thousand times his re
gard for both his masters, and I believe that in
this assurance the young man was perfectly
honest.
"What does Mrs. Lawson'fay ? 'He dash at
flngs so.' Solly is ill-governed, impetuous and
laU'lilsiVSiFcc good, pr .evil, h 'dashes a(
71. Flovd Rpracktcs. 7K. rtorla MoElrov.
72. K. Kriss. 77. Lucille Buscher,
73. Cecilia Prazan. 7S. Lilly Downey.
74. Thelma Wells. 79. Mayme lecha.
75. O. Bea:.- .
thing?.' And there is a still more remarkable
statement recorded to the dead man's mother.
Such is her son's affection for his employers that
he would have died for them. Much follows
from this admission; but we have to admit also
that Solly had no grudge against John Diggle.
Even in the event of Diggle getting him locked
up, Solly would not have allowed enmity against
the night watchman' to inspire him on regain
ing his liberty. In his mind, to repeat his
mother's forcible words, 'when a flng done, it
done.'
"Here, then, is the third party in this trini
ty of the dead and his character stands clearly
before vs. Had he been different; had Diggle
been different; had Henry Slanning been differ
ent, my reconstruction of those events that de
stroyed all three, would not be feasible; but It
is built upon the only foundation that remains
for any superstructure the foundation of
character; and, to my surprise, I find it ample
for our purpose. I had suspected that any theo
ry based on character alone, must have needed
modification and some special pleading when it
came to details; I had anticipated the need to
rely upon probability and exercise no little In
genuity in rounding the narrative and gathering
the tangled thread into a complete skein; I had
even feared "that character itself might presently
confound me and make it impossible honestly to
develop a consistent story; but, to my satis
faction, I find this is not the case. Effect, In
shape of facts, follows cause, as furnished by
character, directly and lucidly; motive is at last
revealed, like the sun breaking from behind a
cloud, and the series of events follow upon
each other logically, inexorably. These thing
had to be and they could not have fallen out
differently.
"Henry Slanning is responsible for the en
tire concatenation. He designed a certain action
and took elaborate means to insure its opera
tion; but, the event he planned duly accom
plished, accident willed that it should serve aa a
prelude to other events beyondhls calculations
events fatal to the second and third actors in
the drama.
"Thus we arrive at the threshold of our
mystery.
"When the house sleeps, Henry Slanning
rises and makes his way to the plantations,
choosing that region where John Diggle will be
perambulating, gun on shoulder. Slanning goes
of set purpose o his death. He is willing to
die, but not by his own hand. It is part of his
character that, while he seeks death, he cannot
inflict it upon himself.. He has, however, in
tended to do so. He has taken first steps to
ward that end, and the revolver, found by his
dead body, was bought by him at Messrs. For
rest, New Bond street. He wrote to England
for it a week after his great disappointment,
and he duly received it with a box of 100 cart
ridges. But he could not use it. For a mo
ment he had dreamed of so doing when he la
bored under the bitterness of his rejection. It
was. however, an aberration of character that
drove him to send for the weapon, and long
before it reached his hand, he had sufficiently
returned to himself to make its use impossible.
"Why, however, did he take it to the plan
tation empty? To make sure of John Diggle.
He went out in his pyjamas, a light alpaca
jacket, and a? big straw hat, similar to those the
negroes wear. Thus attired, iri such a place, at
such a time, ho must naturally be mistaken for
a common marauder; and having already di
rected Diggle to do his duty in such an event an'l
fire at sight unon any thief, ho expected him M
do so. Hut the revolver was an inspiration,
calculated to nerve Diggle and banish the least
remaining trace of hesitation. Digglo would
challenge, and if ho received no reply nnd.no
surrender would fire. How much more cer
tainly, then, might he be expected to fire and
with how much 'sterner efficiency of aim, if the
thief threatened him?
"Two of these three men died in a clear
ing of cane, where cutting was in progress an 4
the plant of fiio plare show a pathway extend
ing through it to the cliffs beyond. To the
clearing goes Henry Slanning and begins to
cut dewn cane with one of tho little familiar
hatchets used for the purpojy. He knows that
in the silence of night, the noise must soon
reach Diggle's ear; and it does so. The watch
man thereupon hastens to the spot, and it hap
pens that Solly Lawson, homeward bound by
the short cut through the cane, arrives a few
moments afterwards.
"Wo may describe what follows with, the
. eyes of Solly Lawson.
"He sees Digglo challenge and marks a man
jump up before him. With head down the rob- ,
ber approaches, and for answer to Diggle's de
mind to surrender, produces a revolver and
points it at tho watchman. The Rteel flashes in
the mocnllght and Diggle's response is to get
in hU shot first if he can. He fires and the tin
know falls. Solly sees Diggle drop his gun
and run forward ;ut he sees no more. Henur
" ' Hutu to Jt ittt Mug iicj.
