OCR Interpretation

The day book. (Chicago, Ill.) 1911-1917, July 09, 1914, NOON EDITION, Image 19

Image and text provided by University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign Library, Urbana, IL

Persistent link: http://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn83045487/1914-07-09/ed-1/seq-19/

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her brqther. That was how they got
their positions. They called regu
larly at the fine old house on Madison
avenue. Of course it was Rogers
who won the girl's love. She had
half pledged herself to Barrett, and
it was perhaps the love of conquest,
which is the bullying instinct of the
tenth power, that impelled Rogers to
cut out his rival.
"I'm sorry, Johnny," said Miss
Ruth everybody called Barrett
"Johnny" "but I find I was mis
taken. I don't love you, but I will
always be- your friend."
"All right," said Johnny, miserably.
He did not cease going to the house,
even after Rogers' engagement was
privately made known. If in his heart
he resolved to get even with the bully,
nobody guessed his resolution, not
even Rogers himself.
''I'm sorry I had to cut you out, old
man," said Rogers, "but I just had
to. She's a stunner, is Miss Ruth'
Barrett walked out of the room.
He did not want to hear Miss Ruth
discussed by Rogers.
There had been a good many cases
of impoverishment connected with
the failure of the land company, and
at one time Mr. Kingsley had receiv
ed threats from various sources. The
anonymous letters had ceased, and
he no longer guarded himself with a
private detective; consequently the
thing that occurred at three o'clock
on a certain afternoon was quite un
expected. The bank was just closing; inside,
Rogers had stepped out of the teller's
cage, and then stepped back as a
ragged looking man drew near.
''After closing time," he said. "To
morrow." -
He stood at the door of the cage,
and the ragged man, opening the
wicket which led to the ladies' table,
walked up toward the back, door of
the cage.
"You've had my money and my
wife's lifeyou dogs!" he roared; "and
I'm going to have your life. You're
Mr. Kingsley, I know you."
The man was evidently a maniac,
or he would have understood the'dif-
ference between the president and an
assistant teller. Barrett, who was
working at a desk near by, raised
his head; then, seeing the revolver
which the fellow was flourishing, he
sprang in front of Rogers. -t
"I'm not Mr. Kingsley," babbled-
Rogers, cowering behind Barrett as J
the man raised his weapon.
"I am," said Barrett, advancing
with a smile.
"Yes," screamed Rogers, thrusting
Barrett forward up to the revolver
barrel. v
There was a report, a coil of smoke
and Barrett was lying upon the Hoor,
blood pouring from his shoulder.
The whole affair had been the work
of an instant and in an instant more
the madman was seized and dis
armed. A woman rushed forward and
kneeled at Barrett's side. It was
Ruth Kingsley, who, having come to
the bank to cash a check, had seen
the whole performance.
Her tear? fell on. the face of the
wounded maji, and with her little
handkerchief she attempted to
staunch the blood from his wound.
"It's only my shoulder, Ruth,"
whispered Barrett, "beginning to
grow pale.
Rogers had come forward, trem
bling, and endeavored to assist. But
the girl forced him back.
"Don't you dare to lay your hands,
upon Johnny Barrett," she cried in
dignantly. "I saw all that happened.
You pushed him forward into the'
muzzle of the revolver. Yes, and you!
said that he was father."
"That's right, Miss Ruth!" ex-
claimed Tommy, the office boy. "I"
saw him and I'll swear to it when
the case come up in court." i
Barrett raised his hand deprecat-r.
ingly, but Rogers had seized his hat
and was already slinking away. The
passage to the door of the bank,, un-t
der the scornful eyes of the employes,-!
seemed an, endless one. When her
iiiitoiw mtotnm n t ,

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