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Froed intention in a theatre foyer, bent upon establishing an alibi, his movements are scarcely worth the details Between the acts he saw a dozen men whom he knew and he took drinks with several of theh the ordeal in a way that could not have fallen to the good fortunes of the ordinary lawbreaker

Every second of the ti buffeted by the icy waters of the lake Where was that thing no far out into the lake had it been carried?

His body was covered with the cold perspiration of dread and horror His soul was hast with the awfulness of the deed; he could have shrieked aloud in his h the hour in that theatre he never could have told, nor could he believe that he was sitting there with all those frightful thoughts piling thehed and shouted with happiness; he stared and wept in his heart, and shivered and cringed and groaned within himself

He had killed her! She had been true to hiiven hiht to Banseht only of himself as the slayer

Would her body be recovered? What would be his excuse, what his punishallows? A thousand horrors ran riot in his brain, a thousand tres of this miserable wretch? Why say more of his terror, his misery, his remorse? He held himself in the seat until the middle of the last act of the play At last, unable to restrain hier, he arose and almost ran from the theatre That instinct which no slayer can control or explain, was overpowering him; it was the instinct which attracts the murderer to the spot where his crime was committed No man can describe or define this resistless iy records it, clear and unmistakable It is no less than a form of curiosity Driven by this irresistible force, David Cable, with bravado that cost him dearly, worked his uninterrupted way to the scene of his crio Avenue and, then, like a ho his way fearfully, to a corner not far froreith dread The swish of the water ca for a cry for help froside the houses of his friends, he covered the blocks that lay between hinetic rift in the wall Near the corner, he stopped with a start of alarm