This boy had
been ill a long time, and he was white and very weak. The heart of the
man overflowed with pity.
"Good-night, Ned," he said. "I mustn't stay too long, but I'll come
again lots of times, and you and I will talk business then. The firm of
White & Fulton will soon begin work of the most important kind. Now you
watch me unlock that door. They say that pride goeth before a fall, but
in this case it is going right through an open door."
Obviously he was proud of his skill as he had a full right to be. He
inserted the hooked prongs of the fork in the great keyhole, twisted
them about a little, and then the lock turned in its groove.
"Good-by, Ned," said Obed again. "It's time I was back in my own tomb
which is just like yours. I hate to lock in a good friend like you, but
it must be done."
He disappeared in the hall, the door swung shut and Ned heard the lock
slide in the groove again. He was alone once more. The light that had
seemed to illuminate his dungeon went with the man, but he left hope
behind. Ned would not be alone in the spirit as long as he knew that
Obed White was in the cell next to his.
He lay a while, thinking on the chances of fate. They had served him
ill, for a long time.
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