Paul Ralston by Mary Jane Holmes

Every preliminary in the way of examination, indictment and committal had been gone through. Bail had been offered and refused. The $10,000 offered to any one who would capture the slayer had failed to find the slightest clue to any one but Paul, who was still in jail awaiting his trial. Fortunately he had not long to wait, as the court opened soon after his arrest and examination. But every day was an eternity, and the nights were longer still. It seemed to him they would never end. His stars, Clarice and Elithe, were some little comfort to him,-that of Clarice still glowing like fire,-that of Elithe pale and blurred as if with many tears. When he could not see them he would cover up his head and cry, he was so weak from close confinement and so hopeless as to the future.

When daylight came, he felt better, for before night shut down again there might be news of the man for whom detectives were hunting everywhere. But there was never any news, and the days went by, bringing him nearer to the dreaded ordeal from which he shrank as a martyr might shrink from the rack which was to torture him. Everything which could be done to ameliorate his condition as a prisoner was done. No room in that jail or in any other had ever been furnished as his was. Tom was always bringing something until the place was overcrowded. Letters of sympathy came to him from every city and town where he had acquaintances. Flowers, fruit, delicacies of every kind were showered upon him. His table was filled with books and magazines and papers. Every day his father and mother visited him, cheering and encouraging him to the utmost, although they had little courage themselves, the outlook was so dark. Tom alone was hopeful. He hovered around the building constantly, often going inside and telling Paul any items he thought would interest him,-who had gone,-who were going,-who had come,-how the grounds were looking,-what flowers were in blossom, and how Sherry the dog,-named for the old Sherry,-missed his master. This interested Paul, who was very fond of Sherry, a big Newfoundland,-whom he had bought when a puppy.