At the Time Appointed | Page 8

limp and motionless,
upon the bed.
"Fool!" he heard the man mutter, with an oath.
An involuntary groan escaped from Darrell's lips. Slight as was the
sound, the man heard it and turned, facing him; the latter was screened
by the curtains, and the man, seeing no one, returned to his work, but
that brief glance had revealed enough to Darrell that he knew he could
henceforth identify the murderer among a thousand. In the struggle the
mask had been partially pushed aside, exposing a portion of the man's
face. A scar of peculiar shape showed white against the olive skin,
close to the curling black hair. But to Darrell the pre-eminently
distinguishing characteristic of that face was the eyes. Of the most
perfect steel blue he had ever seen, they seemed, as they turned upon
him in that intense glance, to glint and scintillate like the points of two
rapiers in a brilliant sword play, while their look of concentrated fury
and malignity, more demon-like than human, was stamped ineffaceably
upon his brain.

Having secured as much as he could find of the money, the murderer
left hastily and silently, and a few moments later the guards, after a
warning to the passengers not to leave their berths, took their departure.
Having partially dressed, Darrell at once sprang across the aisle and
took Whitcomb's limp form in his arms. His heart still beat faintly, but
he was unconscious and bleeding profusely. All had been done so
silently and swiftly that no one outside of Darrell dreamed of murder,
and soon the enforced silence began to be broken by hurried questions
and angry exclamations. A man cursed over the loss of his money and a
woman sobbed hysterically. Suddenly, Darrell's incisive tones rang
through the sleeper.
"For God's sake, see if there is a surgeon aboard! Here is a man stabbed,
dying; don't stop to talk of money when a life is at stake!"
Instantly all thought of personal loss was for the time forgotten, and
half a dozen men responded to Darrell's appeal. When it became known
throughout the train what had occurred, the greatest excitement
followed. Train officials, hurrying back and forth, stopped, hushed and
horror-stricken, beside the section where Darrell sat holding Whitcomb
in his arms. Passengers from the other coaches crowded in, eager to
offer assistance that was of no avail. A physician was found and came
quickly to the scene, who, after a brief examination, silently shook his
head, and Darrell, watching the weakening pulse and shortening gasps,
needed no words to tell him that the young life was ebbing fast.
Just as the faint respirations had become almost imperceptible,
Whitcomb opened his eyes, looking straight into Darrell's eyes with
eager intensity, his face lighted with the winning smile which Darrell
had already learned to love. His lips moved; Darrell bent his head still
lower to listen.
"Kate,--you will see her," he whispered. "Tell her----" but the sentence
was never finished.
Deftly and gently as a woman Darrell did the little which remained to
be done for his young friend, closing the eyes in which the love-light

kindled by his dying words still lingered, smoothing the dishevelled
golden hair, wondering within himself at his own unwonted tenderness.
"An awful pity for a bright young life to go out like that!" said a voice
at his side, and, turning, he saw Parkinson.
"How did it happen?" the latter inquired, recognizing Darrell for the
first time in the dim light.
Briefly Darrell gave the main facts as he had witnessed them, saying
nothing, however, of his having seen the face of the murderer.
"Too bad!" said Parkinson. "He ought never to have made a bluff of
that sort; there were too many odds against him."
"He was impulsive and acted on the spur of the moment," Darrell
replied; adding, in lower tones, "the mistake was in giving one so
young and inexperienced a commission involving so much
responsibility and danger."
"You knew of the money, then? Yes, that was bad business for him,
poor fellow! I wonder, by the way, if it was all taken."
At Darrell's suggestion a thorough search was made, which resulted in
the finding of a package containing fifteen thousand dollars which the
thief in his haste had evidently overlooked. This, it was agreed, should
be placed in Darrell's keeping until the arrival of the train at Ophir.
Gradually the crowd dispersed, most of the passengers returning to
their berths. Darrell, knowing that sleep for himself was out of the
question, sought an empty section in another part of the car, and,
seating himself, bowed his head upon his hands. The veins in his
temples seemed near bursting and his usually strong nerves quivered
from the shock he had undergone, but of this he was