Page:Top-Notch Magazine, May 1 1915 (IA tn 1915 05 01).pdf/55

 "No," said the detective slowly, "he didn't escape. The train was going rapidly—we were midway between stations—and there was a deep, rocky cut beside the track. Morrison went into that cut like a bag of meal, and rolled over and over. When the train stopped and backed up, we carried him aboard and brought him to the railroad company's hospital at Okaday. Jenkins got off with him there, taking the other prisoner along. I came on here."

"Was—was Morrison badly hurt?" asked McKenzie.

"There was a doctor on the train, and he examined Morrison, and didn't think he had a chance. Morrison revived so that he could talk, and was made to realize his situation. He dictated a statement which he wanted brought to Mr. McKenzie. I haven't the slightest idea what it means to you, McKenzie, but here it is. Morrison could not use his hand to write, but he placed his finger on a pencil and some one else wrote his name for him. His statement was witnessed by myself, Jenkins, the doctor, and a nurse."

Hackett passed a folded paper to McKenzie. The latter unfolded it, and, in a shaking voice, read aloud:

A dead silence reigned in the room when McKenzie finished reading. With a long, deep sigh he fell back in his chair and the paper dropped from his fingers.

"Father!" burst joyously from Lois, and she ran to put her arms about him.

"At last, after all these years!" murmured McKenzie brokenly.

Ruthven took the detective by the arm, and drew him from the room and from the house. "We're only in the way there now," he cried happily. "Say, I'd like to give three good cheers and a tiger! Oh, this is fine, and all the finer because it was unexpected."

"Hanged if I know what I've done that's so all-fired fine, but sometimes it's just as well for a detective not to know too much. When can I get a train back to Okaday?"

AM sick of the noise in the long gray street where the crowd floods up and down,
 * And I long for the touch of untainted winds in the little-trodden lands. I am tired of the frigid, unchanging rules and the thousand eyes of town.
 * I would go to a place where the men are men and hold their lives in their hands.

I would go to the life which is quite alive, the world that is all around;
 * I must break myself free of this mincing dance where one may not step aside

Out of fear of the million fools that yelp from their kennels custom bound—
 * To the naked noon and the throbbing night and the life where the world is wide!