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"I will give anything on earth to the man who clears Randall Clayton's memory," said the heiress. "Don't promise too much, Miss Alice," cried Atwater, as he kissed her hand. "I will do my duty!" As the carriage drove away, she watched him from the window. Their eyes met, and she turned away, with sudden blushes.
It was the "short day" of the week's business, and the usual route for making his bank deposit lay before him. Down University Place to Eighth Street he was bent, thus avoiding the Broadway crush, and over to the shaded counting rooms of the Astor Place Bank. Clayton's mind was concentrated, as usual, upon his important business.
It was not alone the fact of Clayton's turning up here and now that surprised the cattle man; it was the fact of his turning up anywhere. For he had thought that Clayton, weak natured and so very often the other man's tool, was serving time in the Texas penitentiary.
Great beads of sweat were standing upon his brow. He trembled as though with a fit of ague. Aloud he cursed himself for having taken the last draw, for now his chances for escape were but three to one, whereas Monsieur Thuran's had been five to one, and Clayton's four to one.
And then three things happened almost simultaneously. The sailor jerked out his weapon and leveled it at Clayton's back, Miss Porter screamed a warning, and a long, metal-shod spear shot like a bolt from above and passed entirely through the right shoulder of the rat-faced man. The revolver exploded harmlessly in the air, and the seaman crumpled up with a scream of pain and terror.
His foot was in the stirrup when he heard Clayton's voice calling. He went back into the dugout. The light was out and it was very dark. "What is it, Jimmie?" he asked. "I was thinking, Buck," came the halting answer, "that ... if you don't care ... I will shake hands."
Yet it seems to have had some fair success, and was even revived the following year; but Clayton's Rosamond, to a libretto by Addison, did not survive three performances.
Janet Bonner, she married Dick Pyatt, who came from Massachusetts, and kept the school down by Clayton's Meadow; Emma Loring married a baptist-preacher from Virginia, named Stokes.
But it has been shown how, by the interposition of the First and Seventh Michigan and one of Gregg's brigades, that officer was obliged to abandon the plan of reaching Clayton's store and take the other road.
Inspector Clayton discovered the crime, and reported it at headquarters. I was at my desk in the office when the news came, and, as you know the interest I've taken in the Gray Seal, I decided to 'cover' it myself. When I got here, Clayton hadn't returned from headquarters, so, as you seemed so keenly interested last week, I telephoned you. If Clayton's back now we'll get the details.
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