He was handcuffed to a deputy sheriff. Billy was calm
outwardly; but inwardly he was a raging volcano of hate.
In a certain very beautiful home on Riverside Drive, New
York City, a young lady, comfortably backed by downy
pillows, sat in her bed and alternated her attention between
coffee and rolls, and a morning paper.
On the inside of the main sheet a heading claimed her
languid attention: CHICAGO MURDERER GIVEN LIFE
SENTENCE. Of late Chicago had aroused in Barbara Harding a
greater proportion of interest than ever it had in the
past, and so it was that she now permitted her eyes to wander
casually down the printed column.
Murderer of harmless old saloon keeper is finally brought
to justice. The notorious West Side rowdy, "Billy" Byrne,
apprehended after more than a year as fugitive from justice, is
sent to Joliet for life.
Barbara Harding sat stony-eyed and cold for what seemed
many minutes. Then with a stifled sob she turned and buried
her face in the pillows.
The train bearing Billy Byrne and the deputy sheriff toward
Joliet had covered perhaps half the distance between Chicago
and Billy's permanent destination when it occurred to the
deputy sheriff that he should like to go into the smoker and
enjoy a cigar.
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