Here! Look! It's to-day's _Enquirer!_ See what's
happened! Your uncle!"
The vanguard of the "parade" had reached the lot. Cages came creaking
through the wide aperture at the end, and were wheeled skillfully into
place by expert drivers. Gayly dressed horsemen trotted through. Every
one was shouting to David.
His ears rang, everything went black before him. He could not seize
the paper that Ruby held before his eyes, nor were his eyes quite
capable of reading the sharp, characteristic headlines that stood out
before him in the first column of the _Enquirer._ The letters
danced impishly, as if to confuse him further. Jenison--Jenison--
Jenison everywhere! That was all he could see, all he could grasp.
Dick Cronk's prophecy had been fulfilled.
His uncle Frank Jenison was dead. Some one was shouting it in his ear.
There had been a deathbed confession. He was no longer a fugitive! He
was exonerated--he was free!
He laughed hysterically and pressed the damp sheet to his lips. Ruby
Noakes threw her arms about his neck and kissed him for joy. The
voices of the half hundred people crowding about him buzzed in his
ears.
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