The Broken Gate A Novel   By: Emerson Hough (1857-1923)

A NOVEL

BY EMERSON HOUGH

AUTHOR OF "THE MAN NEXT DOOR," "THE MAGNIFICENT ADVENTURE," "54° 40' OR FIGHT," "THE MISSISSIPPI BUBBLE," ETC.

ILLUSTRATED BY M. LEONE BRACKER

D. APPLETON and COMPANY NEW YORK LONDON 1917

COPYRIGHT, 1917, BY EMERSON HOUGH

COPYRIGHT, 1917, BY THE PICTORIAL REVIEW COMPANY

Printed in the United States of America

TO ARTHUR T. VANCE FAITHFUL AND KINDLY COUNSELOR

[Illustration: He felt her hands resting on his head as though in shelter.]

CONTENTS

I. THE HOMECOMING OF DIEUDONNÉ LANE

II. AURORA LANE

III. TWO MOTHERS

IV. IN OPEN COURT

V. CLOSED DOORS

VI. THE DIVIDING LINE

VII. AT MIDNIGHT

VIII. THE EXTRAORDINARY HORACE BROOKS

IX. THE OTHER WOMAN CONCERNED

X. THE MURDER

XI. IN THE NAME OF THE LAW

XII. ANNE OGLESBY

XIII. "AS YOU BELIEVE IN GOD!"

XIV. AURORA AND ANNE

XV. THE ANGELS AND MISS JULIA

XVI. HORACE BROOKS, ATTORNEY AT LAW

XVII. AT CHURCH

XVIII. AT THE COUNTY JAIL

XIX. THE MOB

XX. THE IDIOT

XXI. A TRUE BILL

XXII. MISS JULIA

XXIII. THE STATE VS. DIEUDONNÉ LANE

XXIV. THE SACKCLOTH OF SPRING VALLEY

XXV. BECAUSE SHE WAS A WOMAN

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

He felt her hands resting on his head as though in Shelter.

"Your Honor," said he, "I presume I am the defendant in this case."

"I was kissing you and saying good by ... when Miss Julia came in "

"Anne! What made you come?"

The BROKEN GATE

CHAPTER I

THE HOMECOMING OF DIEUDONNÉ LANE

"Eejit! My son John! Whip ary man in Jackson County! Whoop! Come along! Who'll fight old Eph Adamson?"

The populace of Spring Valley, largely assembled in the shade of the awnings which served as shelter against an ardent June sun, remained cold to the foregoing challenge. It had been repeated more than once by a stout, middle aged man in shirt sleeves and a bent straw hat, who still turned a truculent gaze this side and that, taking in the straggling buildings which lined the public square a quadrangle which had for its center the brick courthouse, surrounded by a plat of scorched and faded greensward. At his side walked a taller though younger man, grinning amiably.

The audience remained indifferent, although the challenger now shifted his position to the next path leading out to a street entrance; and repeated this until he had quite traversed the square. Only, at the farther corner back of him, a woman paused as she entered the courthouse inclosure paused and turned back as she caught sight of the challenger and heard his raucous summons, although evidently she had been hurrying upon some errand.

Ephraim Adamson walked hither and thither, his muscular arms now bared to the elbows; and at his side stalked his stalwart son, who now and then beat his fists together, and cracked his knuckles with a vehemence like that of pistol shots. But none paid great attention to either of the Adamsons. Indeed, the eyes of most now were following the comely figure of this woman, as usually was the case when she appeared.

"Take her now, right how she is," said one of the sidewalk philosophers, "and you got to admit yonder's the handsomest woman in this town, and has been for twenty years." He nodded to where she stood, hesitating.

That she was a tallish woman, of less than middle age and of good figure, was perceptible even at some distance as she finally advanced. She was well clad enough, and with a certain grace and trimness in her appointings indeed seemed smart in a quiet and unobtrusive way very neat as to hands and feet, and trim as to the small turban which served now as her only defense against the heat of the summer sun.