The San Francisco call. [volume], October 16, 1913, Page 7, Image 7

About The San Francisco call. [volume] (San Francisco [Calif.]) 1895-1913

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Oopyrljht, 19IS, international News Serrlc*
Looks Like a Strike
Tomorrow:
Another Game
OUT OF DOG
The story Js recalled of Sir Leopold
McClintock, the arctic explorer, who
at the time was giving an account of
his experiences amid the Icefields.
"We certainly would have traveled
farther," he explained, "had not our
dogs given out at a critical time."
• Cut," exclaimed the young woman
who had been listening Intently. "I
thought that the Ksklmo dogs were
perfectly tireless creatures."
.Sir Leopold's face wore a whimsi
cally gloomy expression as he replied:
"I—cr —speak in a culinary sense,
mi ml" i , , __v ■. ■
The Dingbat Family
Polly and Her Pals
Us Boys ~p
WITHIN THE LAW
& 53 & Greatest Serial of the Day X H S3
Marvin Dana
Copriieht, lOtS. by the H. X ny Company.
The play "Within tbe Law Is copyrighted
by Mr. Velller and tha noTellxatJon of It 1»
published by his permlmloo. The Amerlcaa
Pity company Is tbe sola proprietor of the
exrlaslre rights of tha representation and
performance of "Within the Law" la all
languages.
Continned From Yesterday
CHAPTER XlH—Continued
"I don't know where she was," he
exclaimed doubtfully. He realized his
blunder even as the words left his
lips and soujrht to correct It as best
he might. "Why, yes, I do, too," he
went on, as If asrfa'led by sudden
memory. "I droppci into her place
kind of late, and they said she'd gone
to bed —headache, I guess. . . .
Yes, she was home, of course. She
didn't go out of thi house all night."
His Insistence on the point was of
itself suspicious, but eagerness to pro
tect her stultified his wits.
Burke sat grim ani silent, offering
no comment on the lie.
"Know anything about young
Gilder?" he demanded. "Happen to
know where he Is now?" He arose
and came around th; desk, so that he
Btood close to Garson, at whom he
glowered.
"Not a thing!" was the earnest an
swer. But the speaker's fc.tr roso
swiftly, for the linkln-r-of these names
was significant—frlgnttullv signifi
cant!
The Inner door opened and Mary
Turner entered the office. Garson with
difficulty suppressed the cry of dls-
THE SAN FRANCISCO OACC, THURSDAY, OCTOBER T6, 1913.
From the 'Play of Bayard e Oeiller
tress that rose to his Hps. For a
few moments the silence was un
broken. Then, presently. Burke, by a
gesture, directed the girl to advance
toward the center of tho room. As
she obeyed, he himself wf nt a little
toward the door, and, when lt opened
again, and Dick Glider appeared, he
Interposed to check the young man's
| rush forward as his gaze fell on his
bride, who stood regarding him with
sad eyes.
Garson stared mutely at the burly
man In uniform who held their des
tinies in the hollow of a hand. His
lips were parted as If he were about
to speak. Then he bade defiance to
the impulse. He deemed It safer for
all that he should say nothirg—now!
. . And lt Is very easy to say a
word too many. And that one may be
a word never to be unsaid—or gain
said.
Then, while still that curious
dynamic silence endured, Cassidy came
briskly into the office. By some magic
of duty, he had contrived to give his
usually hebetudlnous features an ex
pression of enthusiasm.
"tsuy. Chief," the detective said rap
idly, "they've squealed:''
Burke regarded his aid with an air
intolerably triumphant. lils voice
came smug:
"Squealed, eh?" His glance ran over
Garson for a second, then made Us
Inquisition of Mary and of Dick
Glider. He did not give a look to
Caesidy sh he put his question. "Do
they tell the same story?" And then,
wuea tlx* detective nad answered la
the affirmative, he went on speaking
In tones ponderous with self-com
placency; and, now, his eyes held
sharply, craftily, on the woman.
"I was right then, after all—right,
all the time! Good enough!" Of a
sudden his voice boomed somberly.
"Mary Turner, I want you for the
murder of "
Garson's rush halted the sentence.
He had leaped forward. His face
was rigid. He broke on the inspector's
words with a gesture of fury. His
voice came In a hiss:
"That's a damned He! . . . I
did it!"
CHAPTER XXIV
Anguish and Bliss
Jo* Garson had shouted his con
fession without a second of reflec
tion. But the result must have been
the same had he taken years of
thought. Between him and her as
victim of the law there could be no
hesitation for choice. Indeed, Just
now he had no heed to his own fate.
The prime necessity was to save her,
Mary, from the toils of the law that
were closing around her. For him
self. In the days to come there would
be a ghastly dread, but there would
never be regret over the cost of sav
ing her. Perhaps some other he
might let suffer in his stead—not her!
Even had he been Innocent and she
guilty of the crime, he would still
have taken tbe burden of it on bis
own shoulders. He had saved her from
tbe waters —h» would save bat until
the end, as far aa tho povrer In him
might lie. it v/as thua that, -.vlth the
primitive directness of his reveren
tial love for the girl, he counted no
sacrifice too great in her behalf. Joe
Garson was not a good man. as the
world esteems goodness. On the con
trary, he was distinctly an evil one, a
menace to the society on which he
preyed constantly. But his good
qualities, If few, were of the strong
est fiber, rooted in the deeps of him.
He loathed treachery. His one guilti
ness In this respect had been, curi
ously enough, toward Mary herself. In
the scheme of burglary, which she
had forbidden. But in the last analy
sis here his deceit had been designed
to bring affluence to her. It was his
abhorrence of treachery among pals
that had driven him to the murder of
the stool pigeon In a fit of ungov
ernable passion. He might have
stayed his hand then but for the
gusty rape that swept him on to the
crime. None the less had he spared
the man his hatred of the betrayer
would have been the same.
And the other virtue of Joe Garson
was the complement of this—his own
loyalty, a loyalty that made him for
get self utterly where he loved. The
one woman who had ever filled his
heart was Mary, and for her his life
were not too much to give.
The suddenness of it all held Mary
voiceless for long seconds. She was
frozen with horror of the event. When
at last words came, they were a fran
tic prayer of protest.
"No, Joe! No! Don't talk—don't
talk!"
Burke, immensely gratified, went
nimbly to his chair and thence sur
veyed the agitated group with grisly
pleasure.
"Joe has talked," he said, signifi
cantly.
Mary, shaken as she was by the fact
of Garson's confession, nevertheless
retained bar presence of mind suffi
ciently to resist with all her strength.
"He did it to protect me," she stated
earnestly.
Tt» inspector disdained auch futile
argument. As the doorman appeared
in ans~er to the buzzer, he directed
that the stenographer be summoned
at once.
"We'll have the confession in due
form," he remarked, gazing pleasedly
on the three before him.
"He's not going to confess," Mary
Insisted, with spirit.
But Burke was not In the least im
pressed. He disregarded her com
pletely, and spoke mechanically to
Garson the formal warning required
by the law.
"You are hereby cautioned that
anything you say m»y be used against
you." Then.-as the stenographer en
tered, he went on with lively Inter
est. "Now, Joe!"
Yet once again, Mary protested, a
little wildly.
"Don't speak, Joe! Don't say a
word till we can get a lawyer for
you!"
The man met her pleading eyes
steadily, and shook his head In re
fusal.
"It's no use, my girl." Burke broke
In. harshly. "I told you I'd get you.
I'm going to try you and Garson. and
the whole gang for murder —yes.
every one of you. . . . And you,
Gilder," he continued, lowering on the
young man who had defied him so ob
stinately, "you'll go to the house of
detention as a material witness.' He
turned his gaze to. Garson again, and
spoke authoritatively: "Come on
now, Joe!"
Garson went a step toward the
desk, and spoke decisively.
"If I come through, you'll let her
go—and him?" he added as an after
thought, with a nod toward Dick Gil
der.
"Oh, Joe. don't!" Mary cried, bit
terly. "We'll spend every dollar we
can raise to save you!"
"Now, It's no use," the inspector
complained. "You're only wasting
time. He's said that he did it. That's
all there is to it. Now that we're
sure he's our man, he hasn't got a
chance in the world."
"\*ell, how about it?" Garson de
manded, sa- agely. "Do they go dear,
it 1 come through?"
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"V\>'ii get the best lawyers in the
country," Alary persisted, desperately.
"Well save you, Joe —we'll save you!"
Garson regarded the distraught girl
with wistful eyes. But there was no
trace of yielding in his voice as he
replied, though he spoke very sor
rowfully.
"No, you can't help me," he said,
simply. "My time has come, Mary.
. . . And 1 can save you a lot of
trouble."
"He's right there," Burke ejacu
lated. "We've got him cold. So,
what's the use of dragging you two
Into lt?"
"Then, they go clear?" Garson ex
claimed, eagerly. "They ain't even to
be called as witnesses?"
Burke nodded assent.
"You're on!" he agreed.
"Then, here goes!" Garson cried;
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[ and he looked expectantly toward the
stenographer.
The strain of it all •sras sapping the
will of the girl, who saw the man
she so greatly esteemed for his serv
ice to her and his devotion about to
condemn himself to death. She grew
half hysterical. Her words came
confusedly:
Again Garson shook his head in
absolute refusal of her plea.
"there's no other way out," he de
clared, wearily. "I'm going through
with it." He straightened a little,
and again looked at the stenographer.
His voice came quietly, without any
tremulousness.
"My name Is Joe Garson."
"Alias?" Burke suggested.
Continued Tomorrow
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