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* ' 1 . * . . " lewis m. grist, proprietor. Hit Jfttbtptitbtnf Jfamrlg Utfospjitr: Jfor Ifjc ^promotion of fjjc political, Social, ^griculhiral anb Conimtrcial Jitftrtsfs of % JWj). j terms--$2.50 a year, in advance. VOL. 32. YORKVILLE, S. C., "WEDNESDAY. SEPTEMBER 8, 1886. N~Q. 36. ferial Jfotg. THE BANK OF CALIFORNIA BY PRENTICE MULFORD. roOmuOHTED BT TBS AUTHOR. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED | CHAPTER XIV.?Continued. defense. "I hear he is worse," was my reply, and I felt my face redden and burn as I spoke. Actually I did feel then like Pratt's murderer, and on trial before a jury prejudiced against me, without a favorable witness or extenuatiug circumstance in my behalf. So strong seemed the effect of the predominant thought from the group in that store to make me feel as they believed There was another siknee. A great deal of renewed and possibly unnecessary pipe filling and deeming of stems with broom straws went on; possibly as a mental relief /% fKo tmam eoninflifn onr) AAncAniiAnilw nm w vug uiviv w, auu vvux^uuuutj cux barrassed, of the party. ^ "Was you coming down Scrub mountain when you found Pratt F asked another. "No." I replied. "I went up to him." "I wonder how he came by two bullets in his head," asked Long Mac. "I don't know that he has any bullets in his head," I replied. "Foil don't," was the rejoinder from Long Mac. The emphasis on the pronoun was peculiar. I did not mistake its meaning, but made no reply. Meantime Mr. Sefter was silent Perhaps, for the first time, a sense of the responsibility cf his loquacity had come over him. He did not like talking in face of the accused. The matter was now in sterner hands. "Well," said Long Mac, "I think for one this thing needs looking into. It's 'bout time this robbin' and murderin' was stopped. v Somebody needs stringin' up." The mortality list for Bull Bar, and, say, a stretch of river for two miles up and down, averaged a man killed by known or unknown parties about once in ten days. But the Bar was now in the throes of one of those spasms of law and order, peculiar to all communities. Woe tQ the wight, guilty or not guilty, caught during such spasm. He would hang. It was worse than any direct trial, this being accused by hint, inference and inuendo. There was, I felt, but one thing to do. I resolved to make the issue and meet it. "Look here!" I said. "What are you fellows driving at, anyway? You talk as if some one had tried to murder Pratt Now, as I'm considerably mixed up in this matter, * * I'd like to know if any one is suspected of J crooked business, and if so who it is ?' No one replied. I was now started and kept on. "It strikes me." I said, "from the wav that . this talk has gone on that I'm the man you're aiming at Now, if anybody's got any charge against me he can back up with proof, this is as good a time to make it as any other. I object to being tried behind my back and without any chance to defend myself. Has anybody here seen me waylay Pratt, shoot him or rob him? If there is let him talb I am ready to hear what he has to say." My audience was very quiet ' "Have you, Mr. Setter? I believe you've had a good deal to do and say in this matter. You seem to know as much, if not more, of this affair than anybody else? You were with me when we brought Pratt down the mountain Why shouldn't I think it a very queer piece of business' to talk of your being upon Scrub mountain the day Pratt was hurt, poor man, trying to get an honest living and all that. I tell you, Bill Sefter, that sort of talk has put the halter round more than one man's neck in this country when it didnt belong there. This buzzing suspicions in people's ears, until the man that buzzes and those he buzzes to can't tell the difference between mere hearsay and absolute proof is, I think, about the same as murder." Sefter was silent I felt myself warming up as 1 concentrated myself upon him alone, and, what was to me a relief, I felt also the fetters of a constitutional backwardness for any sort of expression for the time falling from me?whether that expression should be one of deeds or words, of mind or muscle. "Sefter," I continued, "you are making this trouble for me, and I know it You are a "Sefter, you are making this trouble for me." born gossip. You are a coward to boot You make all your fights with your tongue, behind people's backs. You are a thing, a sneak, a skulking coyote, and if thus crowd in this store could see you as you really are they'd kick you out as they would a dog. Do you understand what I mean? I mean all I say. and more if I could say it. Now, if you want a fight here's one ou your Hands. I'm ready." CHAPTER XV. A WOMAN! At this moment Mr. John Sargent put his head in the doorway and said excitedly: "My goodness gracious sokes alive, boys, there's a woman on horseback coming down the hill!" The audience were out of doors in a twinkling. No American woman had ever yet set foot on Bull Bar. The Bar hill road, for half a mile steeply inclined, was as a red streak set in a dark green ground of chapparal, winding and turning, appearing here and disappearing there behind the denser clumps. The woman's progress was necessarily slow. Twenty minutes at least would elapse are she would reach the store. The boarders gathered in a group on a knoll. Other gangs of men hearing the news congregated on various portions of the Bar. All eyes were directed upwards. Capt Thompson brought from his sea chest a long tarry spyglass and steadying it against a corner of the store focussed it on the approaching phenomenon. This constituted the captain a temporary authority. His reports from time to time were enoarlv received hv the crowd. Out of sheer force of nautical habit the captain put one arm about the post supporting the veranda to steady himself, as he would put his arm around a stay on shipboard. The attitude was not lost on the "boys," some of whom put on their "sea legs," staggered about as if trying to maintain their footing on deck in a gale of wind, and one leaning over an imaginary vessel side pantomimed a fearful derangement of the stomach through the disturbance of the elements. "Trim looking craft," said the captain. "Should say by her model and rig she was of American build." "Come, Cap," said one of the boys, "don't be greedy, now you've got a good thing. Let's have a squint." The captain relinquished the gluss with some show of reluctance. Jimmy Cook, having adjusted his eye to the instrument, seemed, judging by his absorbtion, to intend remaining as he was for the afternoon. "Time's up!" cried one. "I move that twenty seconds only be allowed per man, per peep," said another. "Second the motion," cried a third. "Then there won't be enough to go around before she's down here!" "Motion's moved and seconded," said a selfconstituted chairman. "All in favor, say 'aye;' contrary minded 'no.' The ayes have it The chair rules the next peep for itself." "No you don't," remarked the "Cap," coming forward and capturing his glass. "This glass is private property, and not pro bono publico, except as I give the 'ship news.'" The assembly groaned, and one alluded to Cup as an "Old Turk." "She's a lady," said the captain. "Style quiet and genteel. Broad brim straw hat, veil No loud trimmings. Nothing Bowery. Cabin passenger. Boys, tuck in your shirtsi" For convenience and comfort the miner of tj^at period generally wore his red or gray shirt as a blouse, omitting the formality of stowing its extremity under the trousers waistband. The captain's order was obeyed. Mr. Rankin made his appearance, having been employed in buttoning himself into starched linen. A "boarder" reminded him that he had forgotten his kids, and another, hastily cutting a gigantic collar from a sheet of white paper, arrayed himself therein, remarking as he did so that "his tailor was always delinquent with his dress suit when it was most wanted," adding reflectively: "However, if a man's head was only well dressed no sensible woman would look any further." "Swipes" produced the tin horn used to call the boarders to their meals, and asked ^?a-it i til ? U1B capuun U IIO SUUIUU LUtU UC1. "Oh, you're all a lot of smartys now, ain't youP' said Rankin. '"How do you know who that lady may be? She may be some of you fools' mother or sister or wife, come to hunt you to your holes. At all events, whoever she is, I s'pose we'll all act as near like gentlemen as we know how. Those who can't better trot off to work." Mr. Rankin's sentiments made a speedy change in the humor of this before reckless crowd. As the lady drew nearer the faces of all present assumed a more serious expression. They were recalled to themselves and drawn to their old eastern homes by the sight of that one female figure long ere she reached the store. All present knew that she was an "eastern woman" and the city bred boys declared her a city woman. She sat her horse easily. Her face was partly concealed by her broad brimmed straw hat To the store, of course, she must coma Everything coming to Bull Bar must first come to the store. The road down the hill nded at the store door. The store was. in effect, the entrance and exit gate of Bull Bar. Mr. Rankin kept the gate. Anyone visiting Bull Bar on business, or any one there coming to make inquiry would be naturally directed to Rankin. In such connection he figuratively kept the keys of the Bar. He knew where every miner lived within a radius of three miles. He knew how they "were doing." He banked their dust for them in his safe, and in many cases their confidence and social secrets in his breast The lady was riding toward a staring, gaping, curious crowd, of which I suddenly recalled to myself I was one. As she came nearer I turned away and went in the store, not desiring to play the lout. Many others of the "boys" seemed influenced by a similar feelincr and stole off to work, still, however. keeping so much as possible one eye over their shoulders. Nor did they walk very fast It was a hard conflict between curiosity and respect A few lounged about the store door, seating themselves on the bench. She had stopped in front of $e door. I saw only the extremity of a riding habit and the tip of a small foot in the stirrup. I heard then a clear, well-toned voice asking Mr. Rankin if "anyone knew a Mr. Jedediah Pratt in the neighborhood." I heard Blanche Sefton's voice, and, walking out, saw Blanche! Rankin was giving her directions to Pratt's. He turned toward me. "This man will show you where he lives," were his concluding words, as I made my appearance. "That is, he's generally able to tell, when he's woke up." Her eyes met mine. There was no friendly recognition in them.- I said: "Why, Blanche!"?she maintained the same look? "Miss Sef ton?what! you here?" What else I said I know not?a jumble of unmeaning words, tumbling over each other, for her look made me sick at heart She turned to Rankin, who, with the others, had been startled and interested in this unlooked for recognition. Still more startled were they as they saw Blanche, bending low in the saddle, say something to me in a tone too low for them to hear, but at which I recoiled. Those words were: "No! not you, John Holder! Not my uncle's murderer! I do not wish your assistance!" "Perhaps I can find my way to my uncle's house alone if some of you gentlemen will direct me," she said aloud to the wondering group. jw L ii#.-,.. All present knew she was an eastern woman. "I'll show you, ma'am. I'm going right that way myself," said Sefter. Mr. Softer bore oiF the prize. Even in all my misery and stupefaction as she rode off, I, or a part of myself, was afforded a gleam of amusement as the gentleman who had extemporized the bright shirt, paper collar projecting beyond his eirs, suddenly discovered that, in his curiosity at Blanche's approach, he had forgotten to take it off, and during her colloquy had stood near by, wearing it as if a volunteer badge of idiocy. Recollecting himself, ho made a dash at his neck as if stung by a wasp, and flung it in disgust to the ground. Too late! He had posed before a lady as a ninny, an I no man really likes to do that. "Oh, you funny little man!" was Rankin's parting shot at him as he slunk off to his claim. "You can go up as head fool now!" CHAPTER XVI. WARNING. I do not think that "crushing blows," as they term them, are felt in their fullest force when first delivered. A wouud in a vital part may cause at first but little pain. Peop e are often represented as overwhelmed immediately by sudden news of any great misfortune. So far as I know by personal experience in such mattei-s, the "overwhelming," "crushing," agonizing process may hardly commence with the reception of it; news. Its the prolonged mind-working process afterward that causes the misery. Its the perpetual going over and over, not the same ground on which your calamity is based, but the calamity itself, viewed iu all manner of situations, with ever varying lights and shades; a mental operation in character kaleidioscopic. The pieces are the same, but they are ever arranging themselves in different forms. This may go on for days, weeks, months. 1 believe that many a man or woman has said to themselves, when their great trouble first fell on them. "Well, I can bear it," who found a week afterward, that it was too grievous to be borne with patience or resignation. The only means of relief would lie in dismissing the matter entirely from one's mind. Unfortunately such matters, with the great majority, will not be dismissed. ihey are guests unwelcome, armed ami offensive, who quarter themselves and come to stay. When are we to have the era of mental athletism, when minds will arrive at such strength and dexterity as to be able to toss off a trouble from the brain as they would a rubber ball from the hand and forget all about it at pleasure? I did not go home immediately after Blanche's departure from the store. I spent the afternoon wandering aimlessly over gulch, flat and mountain?anywhere, so that I was out of sight aud sound of human beings. I took no thought of physical exertion. I fled at any sound of labor?the stroke of picks, the grating of shovels, the rasping of pebbles in the rockers, aud plunged from such indications of human presence into the dense growth of chapparal. 1 had not then met my deepest misery. I had indignation to sustain me. I was indignant at Blanche, that she also should have tried and condemned me without a hearing. There is a certain buoyancy and stimulus in indignation. It is several degrees above discouragement and despair. But the mind doesn't seem capable of entertaining fully more than one emotion at once. So, when my indignation had worn off its finest edge other emotions commenced their play. They seemed all desirous of "having a whack" at me. I pass over wonder at Blanche's sudden appearance; at curiosity to ascertain how she heard of me and the accusation against me, and at the sudden recollection that the aunt whom she had so freuuentlv visited in New York was by name Pratt, and that probably Jedediah was her husband. I came at lust to my love for the former Blanche Sefton, of Eastport; at my grief for its loss, and at my despair as this last piop was thus so suddenly taken from me. Everything solid seemed to have tumbled from unde- me. I was alone and friendless amid suspicion, growing prejudice, averted faces, whispered lies, and back of all these stood the being on earth I most loved, transformed at once from an angel of mercy into an unpitying and mistaken judge. These were my thoughts for days and nights. They were my company?a numerous and busy crowd. They were kept alive by ths frequent sight of Blanche about Pratt's cabin. Mine was but three hundred yards distant She had a house put up for her own accommodation. For assistants she had every man on the Bar?save myself. _ The crowd was absolutely hungry to do something for Miss Sefton. The area on which her cloth-covered hcu-ic was erected, alongside of Pratt's, was leveled as if by magic. If Miss Sefton wished a bowlder pitched out of the way the}- were ready and liable to remove a hundred. Volunteers went up the mountain, cut young saplings an^ built her a fence. Pratt's well was cleaned and deepened. Fifty men with picks and shovels cleared the trail leading from her residence to the store of intercepting bushes an I impeding bowlders, one evening after knockiug off work from the claims, a physical inference that in their \fio3 UTAlltrl nPrthflKlv WOTlf. CSIUUUUUU, iUlOS UCLWU IT V'Mm j/1 "M4?v often to "go shopping," or possibly drop down of an evening and have a chat with the boys. If Miss Sefton had desired the enormous bulk of Scrub mountain to be removed, I think the matter would havo been seriously considered. In all this Mr. William Sefter was the lady's self-constituted right hand man, and even while working on his claim would be seized with spasm of anxiety and solicitude in her behalf, and rushnp to Pratt's in a chronic state of fuss-aboutand-do-littleness. Why did I not seek an interview with Blanche and endeavor to justify myself? I did make the attempt, or rather paved the way for one. I owed her three hundred dollars. I sent her the money with interest due, through Rankin, explaining to him the circumstances under which the debt was contracted. This, of course, let Rankin into a portion of my secret. Fortunately, he was a man who could keep secrets. He realized that there was money in this kind of banking also, and that cash and confidence often go together. His manner toward me in this business was serious and considerate. He seemed to respect the burden he knew I was carrying, and he was one of the few with a mind inherently judicial that demanded clear proof before any conviction. I felt for a while relieved after having intrusted this commission to Rankin. Ho said to me nothing of the Pratt matter. But as thoughts can be felt, I knew that he sympathized to some extent with my lonesome and miserable situation. Blanche sent back, through Rankin, only a formal receiot for the money. To my request for an interview she made the following reply: "I would prefer not to see you under the present circumstances. "Blanche Sefton." So matters went on for eight or ten days. Broener continued absent. Qid I find any consolation in the thought that he might be miserable in not finding Blanche at Marysville? But what Blauche? His or?mine, I was about to say. The man had been so reticent on the subject, and Blanche herself being hermetically sealed against me, I was still iu doubt whether the woman next door was the one I had seen iu the play or not. I could not visit tho store. That was no place for me. My work at the ' "Bank" was quite done. I kept at work on the river claim, making six or eight dollars per day, to which I was perfectly indifferent. "Worse, my position while at work gave me frequent glimpses of Blanche as she flitted in her neat morning dress between her own house and Pratt's. She was a rare spectacle to the miners whose claims commanded a view of the situation. I saw them at times peeping at her from sundry vantage points, as she tripped about, displaying at times a slippered foot and neat ankle, which caused many a heavy sigh. Why not write her? I did write her?page on page, telling tho whole story, detailing all the misery of my situation, upbraiding her for her injustice and cruelty, and beseeching her for a personal interview. But there was no local postoflice delivery on Bull Bar. Rankin was the only one to whom I could intrust these letters. That would reveal mo to him too much the suppliant. So I would keep the letters. I re-read them. I found, then, one too harsh. I threw it in tho fire. The next was too humble, too supplicating. I threw that in the fire. Within twenty-four hours after writiug, and the mood I composed in had cooled off, I could not find one of the right tone and temper. There seemed no hitting the "golden mean." So they all went in the fire. On tho whole. I am disposed to think that as good a destination as any for copious and exuberant love letters?and, like mine, before delivery. If you don't think so read your own, say three years old, und look ?he self that wrote them at that time straight in the face, and tell me your deliberate opinion of him. From Rankin I ascertained that Pratt lay most of the time in a condition bordering on unconsciousness. He had, he said, "lit up'' a little on Blanche's arrival She, be added, was a "bully nurse." imri?i ?un V) T IVliai UW3 l UU UUL'tUl" DCVJ Ui. Ullll I x asked. "Oh, something scientific," he answered. "Something he's learned out of his books that nobody can make head nor tail of. Looks profound to match, esjwcially when ho takes his whisky. It's biz?biz, you know.' It was a gleam of sunshine that Rankin had resinned this vein of talk with mo." One morning I found piuned to my door a note without signature, bearing these words: "Better leave Bull Bar. Trouble brewing for you." I felt that this was a friendly warning from Rankin. I felt, also, it portended some secret "vigilante" business regarding myself. What to do I knew not. This was a newer blackness to the cloud. I was greatly disturbed. I was, I own, terribly afraid of the trouble hanging over me. I realized fully the temper of the time. I knew how men were dragged from their beds and either hung outright or hung up until they confessed. So had they done to Jo Hatch the year before, because Jo, a poor, whiskysoaked wretch, was suspected of the robbery of a store sufo in which sundry miners kept their dust by favor of the storekeeper. Jo would not confess, despite this horrible torture, aud a few months afterward the real plunderers were revealed. I could not get away. My obligations to Broener forbade it. There was in the house at least twenty thousand dollars1 worth of quartz. Not knowing what might happen I buried this under the floor. Next day it occurred to me that "under the floor" had become too common a burying spot for J treasure, and was, of all places, tho first to be sought for by any so disposed. I knew not what might happen, or how long Broener might be absent. So I dug it up and buried it at night in a nook without the cabin. Then I left a note for Broener, intimating that in case of my absence I would account to him personally for whatever he might find missing. "What I did not choose to say, for 1 did uot trust the sucredness of a sealed note to all tn Bull Bar. CHAPTER XVII. HESCl'K. I wa.. roughly shaken by the shoulder aud ordered to get up! They had stolen into the house in the dead of night. A slit through the cloth side was all the actual "breaking in" necessary. There were six of them? Uiusked. They said nothing. I was ordered to get up. In two minutes I was outside the house in the hands of my captors. They took me tc a deeply shaded hollow in the hills about half a mile distant going east from Scrut mountaiu. Had the country been longer settled It would have been christened by some allowably profane appellation, with just enough dash of infernal flavor to give it a spice. But there had been no time at Bull Bar for such delicate shadings in expression. They went directly to the point and called it "Hell's Hollow." Roughly described it was a hole, perhaps half an acre in area, the wall on three of its irregular sides being of overhanging rock. Their summits, thirty or forty feet iir height, were thickly screened by bushes. S rve in the direction by which it was entered, there was no sign of the sudden depression until one came to the verge of the cliir.s overlooking it I said nothing while on the way thither. Any appeal for justice or humanity, I thought then, would be wasted on men who were thus taking the law in their own hands, more tc gratify their own brutality than aught else. n Mi'ea a lino on/1 nrv n ffzar vail <1 UU^ JllUUj 1010(7 U UUW uuu v? j m^w* him, and you furnish rare sport for a class glad of any excuse for stoning to death any dog, nmd or nbt mad. That portion of Bull Bar represented by my six midnight judges and jurors were hungry for a "little fun." A man bad been called, if not mad, dangerous. They were about the good work of relieving their community of the terror, and having some needed recreation beside. How? By au outrage and disgrace, they proposed putting on me, worse than death itself. Their first act on arriving at the Hollow was to kindle a fire. The effect of the glare on rock, brash and masked men was decidedly dramatic. I think the "committee" were alive to such impressions {ilso, in their own crude way, as gathered from gore-bespattered novels or blood-stained plays, for their proceedings were marked by a certain deliberation and grotesque formality. They intended making a night of it also. Of this the surest evidence was tho gallon demijohn carried by one of tho "committee." A kettle was placed oyer the fhu Shortly a resinous odor pervaded the air. Their intent then flashed on mo. Tar and feathers! It seems as if the spirit of an event and its results for a year in advance can be felt by one in a single moment. So, as if by a flash of lightning, did I see myself thus disgraced, set adrift, wandering in that wretched, humiliating plight over the land, not daring to enter village or town out of pure shame, possibly compelled at last from physical exhaustion to throw myself on the mercy of some one and in the end to be pointed at ever afterward as one so disgraced, and liable, go where I might, to be revealed by some meddlesome tattler. As I saw this, ono instinct and emotion pervaded me?revenge on these villains. I said: "Now, men, if you do to me what I see you mean to do you'd better kill mo first, for as sure as'you disgrace me iu that way, and leave me alive, just so sure will I spend the rest of my life in getting even with you. Maybe I don't know you; but I'll try and find out, and if I do I'll have your heart's blood, every one of you. Now be careful, for it's not such a light matter to start a man out for life with blood oq his brain, as you'll start mo if you do this thing to me!" There was but one reply from the evident master ot ceremonies. That was, "Gag!" A wad of cloth was thrust in my mouth. I guessed at the leader, from his height, despite an assumed bend of the shoulders. I took him for "Long Mac." The party thon ranged themselves in line, fronting me, and one, in a thick, mumbling voice, proceeded to inform me that "Tho Committee of Mighty High Binders had thought it best for the good of Bull Bar to start John Holder out of it, and also that for the young man's good, and as a token of wmomhrnnM t.ViA rnmmifclw. in behalf of the Bar, would present the aforesaid John Holder with an entire new suit, which they trusted he would long wear." "So mote it be!" cried all, simultaneously. The next order was: "Refreshments!" And the demijohn again traveled along the line. The next word was "Business!" I was ordered to take off my clothes. "What are you going to do with that man?" The voice was that of a woman. It " What are you going to do with that manf" came from the top of the cliff opposite the fire. There, clad in white and thrown by the blaze in full relief against the dark background of foliage, stood a female figure. Mv nwn first, thonfrht was. A trhost! A similar thought prevailed with the party. Not a word was spoken for some seconds. They stood there silent and staring. "What are you going to do with that man J" again demanded the apparition. "Who?who are youf' asked one. He had forgotten his assumed voice. It was Bill Softer. "No matter who I am, now, Mr. Sefter, 1 demand your release of that man," was the reply, "It's the gal at Pratt's!" said a voice, which I recognized as Long Mac's. The ghost was laid. The committee felt somewhat easier. Still this was a serious interruption to "business." "Miss, we ain't agoing to do the young man any hurt," said one of the committee, the readiest at recovering his wits. "We're only here for a sociable little time and " "That's a lie!" came from Blanche's lips with a vigor which savored of her piratical uncla "Miss, now you'd better go home," said Long Mac, in the tone he would have assumed toward a child. "This is no place for you. I wonder you daro resk yourself in these woods, where there's bears and Californy lions " "Bears," answered Blanche, contemptuously. "All beare are not grizzlies! I know you mean that man some mischief. Now, release him." "Shan't do it," roared a gruff voico. "Go home yourself. Ef you was my wife or darter I'd start ye blamed quick where ye belong. Go about yer bizuess!" "That's just what I am doing," replied Blanche. She had a weapon from the folds of her dress in a twinkling, its shining barrel flashing by the firelight before the eyes of the astonished party below. "The first man of you that moves his hand for his weapon and I'll fire iuto the crowd," said she. "I think I can handle this pistol well enough for that. They called me a good shot at the gallery in New York, and I had smaller targets and much farther off than those I have now." "By she's got the drop on us, an' she'll i do as she says," muttered one of the com- ji raittee, who now seemed to feel uncomfort- n: able; "it's in her eye." i As the pr rty stood with the fire burning si behind them, their figures were thrown in vi bold relief agaiasfc its light, and the least ; movement was visible to Blanche. "Now, gentlemen," she continued, "basi| ness, you know. I suppose you think this is n all very wrong for a womaa But as there pi seeias no man here to take a defenseless m man's part, why. a woman had to do it. Whatever John Holder has doue, whether he be guilty or not of tho charges against him. sa Ls not to be found out by taking him fro n his bed at night and carrying him into these m woods to maltreat and torture him. That's neither jastice, fairness, nor decency, 0 and you gentlemen know it now I that you take a moment to think it sr over. Would you do what you propose y to do to him before his mother? Would you do it before your own mothers? You have forgotten yourselves, gentlemen, rt Kick over that kettle of tar and go ho me, and you will feel more liko men to-morrow. " w The committee were irresolute. Blanche yi stood there rigid, her eye upon them and her sj pistol ready. w The- tension was becoming painful. No se jury's 1 verdict was ever more eagerly ai i awaited. ie ; "Come, gentlemen, you will take the gag t from that man's mouth and then leave him," gi she said, in accents more winning than those m ; in which she had first spoken. You will, I'm i su v. % 8' "Let the gal have her own way," said one. te This expression of opinion was as the first re ' crack iu the dam to be undermined. 1 ' "Don't believe in bein' humbugged by a al i woman," was the remai L* from the commit- ti teeman, who had previously broached his p > rigorous views as to merits 1 and family dis- ft cipliue. tr "Won't she rouse the whole Bar whether ; we go or not? Anyway, I've got enough for ot i one night," was the reply. ' y< > She did not stir from her post or uncock fe her pistoL Evidently she held herself in i eadiness either for war or persuasion. m > Some one pulled the gag from my mouth, ji ' The committee filed slowly out of the hoi- o' low. One hastily returned, remarking as he li glanced up at Blanche, " 'Scuse me, miss, but ol ' we forgot this." He seized the demijohn ai i and bore it off. tu > "Mr. Sefterl Mr. Sefterl" called out w Blanche. m Sefter forgot his disguise and stopped, tl "Why, it is really you, Mr. Sefter," said a{ Blanche. Sefter pulled himself up for an- re other start, as if he was anxious to get away fc from the locality of so many blundering self- sa revelations. "Mr. Sefter, when next you a{ organize a conspiracy remember that the iffllln /\f /ilnfli Iiamcoc nnnv 1 nrruflion lin i>a Trnnw rtr 1 large ears?that is, when a woman's inside one of them," was Blanche's parting remark. y< "Yes'm," answered Setter, in the tone of a corrected child, as ho went stumbling off with the demijohn. . pi They were gone. Blanche and myself stood facing each other. The situation was embar- w rassing. Perhaps some lingering fiend of like spirit with the committee popped into my Is head the thought: Should I now exclaim in he the gush of the old-fashioned novel, "My preserver! How can I thank you?" etc. I was m irritated now at being "saved" by Blanche Sefton. y< But I had soon to do'something. I noticed I* that Blanche was unsteady on her feet She caught at a sapling, stood there a moment, of and then sat down P She was suffering from the ordeal she had tl undergone and the nervous relaxation that must follow such extreme tension 111 I gained the cliff summit. She was weak? almost uuable to stand, and said on my proffer y( of assistance: "You must seo me homo, I E believe." it CHAPTER XVIIL FOLLY. fc It seemed so weak to say to her. as I did: 81 "I thank you for what you have done for me . to-night." 1 mlded immediately: "Do you 0 believe me guilty?" , "I do not know." 1 "I am not. Pratt's wounds were both accidental and self-inflicted, ono by a bullet from his own pistol, the other by a fall." It was a hard thing to say. As the word3 j were spoken I realized more clearly than ever how improbable they must sound to others. w She was silent. ?_ "You do not believe meT I said. v "Yes, ?ioio I do." n "Why now}" " "I don't know. Perhaps it is because for the last few months I have been so much v among deceit and lies that my mind became trained to Lclievo anything." .' "You do not seem like the Blanche Sefton jj of ten months ago." "You mean, jierhaps, the Blanche you knew (1 then, or rather as much as you knew of her," she replied. i' "I don't understand you." "I don't understand myself. I wish I did. ? You thought me perfection then, did you not?' she asked. "I thought you very near it; yes, and do now," I answered. ? "Well, I nni not. I'm glad I've found it out 1 find I can make great mistakes and u do very foolish things. Per hap i I've done one lately." f' "How/' I asked. "In l.el eving all I heard of you, in addition lo what I saw." "Saw? What did you see?" "My first sight of you in California was in Chinese Camp yonder, waltzing in a done* .. house, your arm around the waist of a Mexi- .. can girL" 11 Heavens and earth! The fandango hall ?' was open to the street?it might almost have j been in it so far as privacy was concerned? and this was the manner in which I had been put on free exhibition to Blanche while on her way that evening from the hotel to the Chines? Camp "opera house." "And for that reason you did not recognize me in the box at the theatre?" "It is not my business on the stage to recognize anv one in the audience. People do , not pay their money to see an actress nod and smile at her friends." "How did you hear of the charge against me?" I asked. "It was the talk at the hotel table, in that camp where we played. There I first learned of my uncle's whereabouts ami bis condition." "What did they say of me?" ; "In substance, that your life and actions were suspicious; that you 'loafed' a good deal, as thev cxnressed it, always hail plenty of money, and that no one knew how you came by it. I think, however, I should not < have judge 1 you so quickly as I did had I , not seen you in the dance house." "Why did that so set yon against me?" "That's a strange question for you to ask. Perhaps it was because of jealousy?perhaps contempt." sin replied. e3 I was silent. She on'inued: "Never mind ^ that now. My fault is the greater. I waut ^ to see it all, aud yon must help me. Did not ^ my manner toward you at the store tho ^ other day excite more prejudice than ever w 1 against you among the miners!" "I think it did." "I thought so," said she. "I began to see and feel it very soon. Well, it shows a woman's power for good or ill?in 1 his case for ill?and men call us the weaker sex. b'C What caused tho quarrel between you and my uncle?" bl "He intra led himself on ground belonging ol to me and Bromor.'' a I "I gather from my uncle's rambling, de- eg lirions talk that he imagines the ground in question not to be yours legally. Is that so?" 0I "It is." "Then why did you oppose him!" jt, "Because I thought the circumstances jus titled it. It is ground for which no legal provision is yet made for holdings." _ "Then how can you hold it?" w "Only by the unwritten law of this land at present?the law of might." tr "The same law by which your recently dis- g( missed friends from yonder hollow acted," ni was lier answer. \V "You would 111 ike a good lawyer," I said. "I think I should. But have you not placed j yourself in an awkward position?" r(] "Yes, either I have or fate has for ma" nj "What do you think my fault has been in j. this matter?" she asked. .. "I dou't know that there is any. I think, had you known the temper ot Bull Bar, you would not unconsciously have brought the n( prejudice against me to the boiling point by pi cutting 1110 as you did at the store, before so y( many people. That, on your part, was caused sa by ignorauce. I think, though, that you p( might first have sought me out and heard to my story lioforo judging me," I said. jn "I should have done so. It was a great Qf mistake. Auv more;" she asked ""Well, you'may have made a similar mis- Ji idgment in another direction, as to seeing le as you did in the?the dance house." v "Indeed! I think I understand. You were Z mply enjoying a man's privileges in this ery five country." "That's your way of putting it?" "What is your way of putting it?" CI I was silent. She continued: "Suppose we n jverse the case, and you had seen me in that foi lace, whirling in the arms of a brawny jj liner?" rp "It's not a supposable case," I answered. u "Thank'you. In other words you would ^ ly that 'no lady' would visit such a place.*' "If I say so, then I suppose you will ask , le why should a gentleman visit it?" "Yes," said she. "That was my intention. " n secoud thought I take the question back. 'I may want possibly to reservo for myself une time or other some of the privileges of tl oil gentlemen " h We were silent for some minutes. ii "Why did you not inquire of Broener with >gard to the affair?" I asked. c( "I had reasons?perhi 's right, perhaps n vonrr fnr nnt. rlninrr ut T Ifnow thnt. i s> ?? - ? ? OJ our partner, and an interested party, his . rmpatbies would be in your behalf. 1 anted to find out for myself and place my- ^ If under as little obligation as possible to a ay one in doing what I had to do. Fer.lmps. i that, I made a mistake." 'r '"You mean, then, that had you been n aided by Broener you might not have been a I lisled as you were regarding me?" bi "Guided is rather too strong a word J| till, I think now his judgment in the mat- 01 a- would have been better than mine," she a, (plied eThis phase of the subject was not agree- 0'| ble to irie. I avoided present further menon of it; but that dreadful dance house icture of myself before Blanche now took ill possession of me. I could not help talk- S1 ig of it. I said: s| "As we are talking very plainly to each ;her to-night, may I ask of you exactly Dur judgment of me from seeing me at the lc tndango?" S( "My judgment regarding it is one thing; it iy emotion may be quite another. As to Sf idgment or judging you in the matter, I p wn I am not able to do it You are a man jj ring among men, influenced possibly by p( ;her men. You live in the man's kingdom ^ id in that kingdom are laws, customs, ^ sages, privileges, perhaps temperaments, ., hich don't appertain to us women. You ay have waltzed with the Mexican girl for a le mere pleasure of the moment; you may, rf jain, be her lover; you may like those low tl (vels and persist iu them; you may drop in ill ir a moment's curiosity and amusement and \V .tinted, perhaps disgusted, soon come out ai jain. How do I know? ' h' "I think your last conjecture the right g] le," I said somewhat eagerly. jj "I hope it is," she answered, adding, "for lur own sake." * "For my sake alone?" r? "For the sake of all or any one whose hapness depends on your welfare," she replied "Does yours new depend at all on that j* elf are?" I asked. " "Do you mean to ask if I lovo you still? tc my act to-night one of lovo or hate?" was -t| >r reply. u "Perhaps you might have so clone for any rt an." tl She paused and then said slowly: "Since >u are so kind as to suggest the idea, well, (}, ;rhai>s 1 might." ^ I was neither comforted nor satisfied. Talk j ! handling edged tools! The Land of ... romise, so near at one moment, receded at le next. ' "Par lou me, Blanche," I said. "I should D( Dt have made such a remark." &1 "I don't see why you should not What "i au suggest may be among the possibles, sc ovv do I know?" she replied, hi Miry ground this, I thought; and I'm sink- p ig in it all the time. jr Then I spoke "just like a man," and said' gj >olishly: "Perhaps you'd have done the rp ime for Mr. Broener?" "Perhaps so," she said calmly, adding as a j inchcr: "Very likely." J1 I went down over ears in the qm??nnire of aspond and jealousy. n "John Holder," she exclaimed in a few C( loments, "this is no time for us two to be t( liking in this fashion; and besides, John," p< le said, with a shade of playfulness, "if we d o, you in your present attitude toward me, rv ill get the worst of it. Mr. Broener is an la Id friend of mine. I esteem him highly and alue his association, for he is a remarkable mn, and one from whom I have learned luch. What we have now to do is to get jnclc Pratt well and you out of this trouble." p I replied: "If you mean by 'wo' any aid of V, [r. Broener in my behalf, let me say right ^ ere, then I don't want it and won't accept j* The word "we" was a fresh brand in the ame. J( "John, you are talking foolishly," she said, d( Like all other men but one that I've known, ol ou can't abide from a woman a word in ol ivor of another of your own sex." ir But one, I thought, and that's Broener. g; iTe were now near Pratt's cabin. She [[ opped, laying her hand on my arm. f "John," she said, earnestly, and her voice embled. "Your danger in connection with lis affair isn't all over yet. Unless my P. ucle recovers, or confirms your story, you j*1 re in great danger. His delirious utteraces are supposed to bear on you, and as I eard by talebearers and meddlers they are If] antinually going out and keeping suspicion g! live against you. You must not throw aside S6 ay help that may come to you?for you may el aed it all." ei "I will not accept any aid from Broener, (j, I can avoid it I hate your men so bril- j j ant that they are always towering over ae." Wo had reached Pratt's cabin. "Oh, .' ohn " was all she said. "Good-night." She 11 Good night.'1 ' tit ctended her hand. I took it coldly. So we bl irted, I bearing homo a new mountain of lisery in tho thought that I had repaid her lb jroism with?well, what name is there for cti le acts and words of a jealous man (or th oman) but premeditated insanity! Ul [TO UK CONTINl'KD NEXT WEEK.] pr Nutriment in Food.?Fat pork us mtains a large amount of nutrition, st; Fish is less nutritive than meats, ar .it five pounds of nutriment being o\ jtained from 100 pounds of materi- di . It usually contains about o per >nt. Salt mackerel is among the ac iost nutritive and the flounder is rn le of the poorest. as The breads representing the carbo- s]< nlvAnf ') ) /A** Q" not* ?? yuraies eunuuu uuuut <>j ui |/v. nt. of water, flour from 9 to 13 per ht1 'nt., corn and maize meal still more ater. They have less proteine and w, ore fat; oatmeal has, on the eon- oe ary, more proteine and less fat. In es ?neral, this class contains most all qt atrit've material and but little gi ater. in ST If a bottle of the oil of penny- yc lyal is left uncorked in a room at w ght, not a mosquito or any other fa: ood sucker will be found there in hi ie morning. Mix potash with pow- in ired meal and throw into the rat al )les of a cellar and the rats will de- an irt. If a rat or a mouse gets into )ur pantry, stuff into its hole a rag ill turated with a solution of cayenne to ?pper, and no rat or mouse will vi uch the rag for the purpose of open- wl g a communication with a depot in, supplies. he (Miscellaneous Reading. JERUSALEM'S SECOND WALL. Jerusalem contains many buried se ets. In some places GO, 70, and even as iucIi as a hundred feet of rubbish has sen accumulated over what was at a forler period the surface of the ground, he first great beginning of the heaping p of the fragments of destruction may ei dated at the time when Nebuchadnezir took Jerusalem and carried off the inabitants to "the Rivers of Babylon." ,t that time, Nebuzaddan, who comlanded the Chaldeans, "burned the louse of the Lord," and it is also stated lat "the Chaldeans burned the King's ouse and the houses of the people with re. and broke down the walls of Jeru dem." This must have been a very implete demoralization, and the result eeessarily produced a very largo archa>logica! deposit. The unfortunate city as undergone many similar operations nee that time, and on each occasion new stratum of remains has been laid own. Let any one, however little he iay have read on the subject, throw is thoughts back on such*A" history, ad he will easily conceive what may e hidden under the streets of Jerusalem, t is to Sir Charles Warren, the preset First Commissioner of Police, who, 5 Captain Warren, acted for the Palatine Exploration Fund, that we owe lit first glimpses of "Underground Jeruilem." He told us in exact figures of le great depth of rubbish which has lUhered in the valleys, and which, in )ite of the filling up, are still visible in le ancient city. The work of Sir C. barren, cleared up some points that were irmerly doubtful, but much remains objure. There are many problems regardlg the old topography which cannot fie lived till further excavations are made, rominent among the points requiring ght to be thrown on them are the exact ositionsof the Temple and the Holy SepIcher. The questions have no.tonly a istorical and arclneological interest, but le whole Christian world has naturally deep anxiety to know the exact truth ?garding them. At pfesent no excavaons can be carried on; the Porte refuses II applications for permission to explore here digging might at present be (tone, id it is only when the foundations of a ouse require the clearing away of the round that chance brings something to ght. Such a chance has lately taken place. . new hotel had to be built pear the Jaffa ate?this was the Mediterranean Hotel, hich, as visitors to Jerusalem will relember, formerly stood not far within le Damascus (rate. The spot where this iok place may be described in the words of le account which has come home?it is "at le head of David street," not named di1 ? 4 Krt D Ann 1 Doolnrtiof Knf 4 MA rvi ;lijj nuiii uic ivujm i sauiJi^ii] uuu num ie Tower of David which stands at the id of it. Here, in clearing out the founations, old walls, canals and cisterns ere laid hare; but the most important iscovery was come to at the depth of > feet. Here were found the remains of i old wall, which was supposed to have sen one of the old city walls, and almost II authorities are agreed that it is the second wall" which has been so long >ught for. About 30 yards of this, wall as been uncovered. Two courses, and in laces, three courses of the stones remain i position. These stones are large and milar to those in the Tower of David, he line of the wall begins directly oposite the tower, and runs to the north, ending slightly to the west. Sofaritfol>ws a line parallel to the present wall Tuning from the Jaffa Gate to the northwest >rner of the city. The interest attaching > this wall is peculiar. A great marvy pople believe that the Holy Sepulcher oes not stand on Golgotha nor over the ew sepulcher, "wherein was never man iid," which had been excavated in the arden of Joseph of Arimathea. Dr. obinson was not the first to express oubts on this subject, but he has dealt rgely on it in his work on Jerusalem ; apt. Condor prefers for Golgotha, or avalry, the round mound "formed like skull" outside of the Damacus Gate, en. Gordon, who lived some months in prusalem before going to Khartoum, syid evoted his time exclusively to the study F this subject, also accepted the knob F the rock at the Damascus Gate as. the lost probable position. The connection iisting between the Holy Sepulcher and ie second wall comes about in this way: he crucifixion took place "without ie Gate." Now, the second wall is supr\r-o.l */ ? l\? oa nlrl ou fho timn of Wpyplri IV/ uv UO \/IM l?U VIIV Vituv W4 i, and its existence at the time of the iviour's sojourn on earth is not doubted, he Holy Sepulcher is at present in the liddleofthe city. The city may have rown round it in 18 centuries, but if this cond wall could be traced so as to inose the spot within its circuit its speally exalted sanctity would be at once ustroyed. The most sacred shrines of le Chiristian Church would cease to ext; the Crusades would be looked upon la delusion, as only a fight for an empr nutshell. This will show the interest hicli attaches to the few feet of ancient lasonry which has been discovered at le head of "David street," in Jerusalem, he oO yards of wall is not enough to dede the point; it would require perhaps to } traced ion yards further to know wheth it went off to the west, and included the oly Sepulcher, or turns to the east, so as i leave the shrine "without the Gate." continued exploration is impossible, as ie space is all built over to the north, nder these houses lies the secret which ts such interest and importance. There r the present it must remain, and e must wait till the time comes when une other house has to be rebuilt, and ie digging of the foundations may give i another glimpse of this significant all.?London Daily News. * FREAKS OF SOMNAMBULISTS. A gentleman was discovered at one clock in the morning in a neighbor's irden engaged in prayer, evidently unn the impression that he was in church it otherwise in a deep sleep. A young man, of whom Petrus writes, sed to get up in his sleep, climb on to his stle battlements, seat himself astride lem, and then spur and whip the wall ider the impression that he was mountI m r*on hie ci Dr. Pritchard had a patient who was irticularly fond of horse exercise, and led to ride at night, find his way to the able, saddle his horse, enjoy a gallop id finally eoine back, knocking at bis vn front door, in a somnambulistic contion. Dr. Macnish, of Edinburgh, gives an count of an Irish gentleman who swam ore than two miles down a river, got hore, and was subsequently discovered ?eping by the roadside, altogether unnscious of the extraordinary feat he id accomplished. Dr. Haycock, theeminent Oxford divine, ould often rise from his bed at night, give it his text, and, while asleep, deliver an icellent sermon upon it. lie was frelently watched, but no amount of tugng, pulling or pinching ever succeeded rousing him. Professor Fischnell, of Basel, writes of a lung student of Wurtemburg college ho used to play hide and seek while st asleep. His fellow-students knew of s propensity, and when he began "walkg" threw bolsters at him, which he ways eluded, jumping over bedsteads id other obstacles placed in his way. Moritz gave an instance of a poor and iterate basket maker, who was unable read or write, yet in a state of sleep gil he would preach fluent sermons, nieh were afterward recognized as havg formed portions of the discourses was accustomed to hoar in the par ish church as a child more than forty years before. A young girl given to sleep talking was in the habit of imitating the violin with her lips, giving the preliminary tuning and scraping and flourishing with the utmost fidelity. It puzzled her physician a great deal until he ascertained that when an infant the girl lived in a room adjoining a fiddler who often performed upon his instrument within her hearing. ? Milt THOMAS A. BENEDICT. New York is certainly getting her share of the administration patronage. The latest appointee is Thomas A. Benedict, who succeeds S. P. Rounds as public printer. The office of the public printer is a very important one and the printing offices at Washington are the largest in America. Enougli work is done there to stagger the force of even the largest journals of the country. It is true that at the time of Mr. Benedict's elevation he was Depuuty State Comptroller of New York. He has also been engaged in journalistic work, and in this vocation gained the knowledge which will enable him to successfully fill the important position that President Cleveland has tendered him. It is said that the disappointed ones who sought the office are many and that by Benedict's appointment the Executive has made many enemies. Much of the work done is destined for the waste basket, and strenuous efforts to reduce the expenditures are to be made. The number of copies of each bill is to be reduced and when we consider the vast number of bills passed this will cause great saving. Mr. Thomas A. Benedict has for some time past been connected with the politicians of New York city and to their influence mainly does he owe his present appointment. Where Perfumes Come From.?Our fair readers may be interested to learn where for the most part, the flowers grow, the sweet perfumes of which are found in those pretty flagons on their dressingtables. The chief places of their growth are the south of France and Piedmont, namely : Montpelier, Grasse, Nimes, Nice and Cannes. These two last especially are the paradise of violets, and furnish a yearly product of about thirteen thousand pounds of violet blossoms. Nice produces a harvest of one hundred thousand pounds of orange blossoms, and Cannes as much again, and of a finer color?five hundred and fifty pounds of orange blossoms yielding about two pounds of pure Neroli oil. At Canness the acacia thrives well, and produces yearly about nine thousand pounds of acacia blossoms. One great perfumery distiller at Cannes uses yearly one hundred and forty thousand pounds of rose lea ves, thirty thousand pounds of jessamine blossoms, twenty thousand pounds of violets and eight thousand pounds of tuberoses, together with a great many other sweet herbs. The extraction of the ethereal oils?the small quantities of which are mixed in the flowers with such large quantities of other vegetable juices that it requires about six hundred pounds of rose leaves to win one ounce of the ottar of roses?demands a very careful treatment. The French, favored by their climate, are the most active, although not always the most careful, preparers of perfume. Half of the world is furnished by this branch of their industry. ?? ?* Unleavened Bread of the Pass over.?The "Pesach" festival or Jewish Passover is the only festival in which "matzos" is the one bread allowed. The bread is unleavened,and there are now four cities in America with unleavened bread bakeries?New York, New Orleans Chicago and Cincinnati. In order to supply the demand these bakeries begin baking two months before the beginning of the Passover. The matzos look, like the ordinary hard-tack, except that they are a foot square. They are made of flour and water, and contain no other ingredients. After the flour has been kneaded into a stiff dough, a lump of it containing about fifty pounds is placed on a great block of wood and pressed into a thick sheet with a great beam which is fastened to the block at one end by an iron link and staple. The sheet is next placed under an iron roller, from which it emerges into a long ribbon. It passes through several rollers until it is thin enough for baking. It is then stamped and cut into unbaked matzos, which are placed upon a wooden tray having a long handle and deposited in an oven. In three minutes they are done, white and crisp.?Milling World. ??(> ? Brain Work for Old Folks.?Jane Welsh Carlyl'e said she always liked to be learning something?another language or anything that required study and effort, because she never felt so young as when she had a dictionary before her and was studying as energetically as she did at the age of 12 or 15. Mrs. Elizabeth Cady Stanton said that it was her father's habit to read no.vels in his leisure hours, because he believed that constantly mixing in thought with the affairs of young people kept him young. I, myself, knew an aged physician, retired from active practice, who spent almost his entire time in reading novels. lie said he forgot all about being old the moment he got started into a love story, which helps to prove mat oiu age is largely a matter of belief.?Boston Globe. - ? Nature is Eternal.?Man dies, but nature is eternal. The seasons keep their appointed time, day returns with its golden splendor, and night with its eloquent mystery. The stars that lit the ghastly battle Held of Troy, rough with the dead bodies of ancient heroes?which shone on the marble streets of imperial Rome, and on the sad eyes of Virgil?sleep in the living glow of inspiration. The watch fires of the angels which, through centuries of. devastation and change, have still burned on unceasingly, speak to us as they did to Dante, Shakspeare and Milton, and of the divine glory, the omnipotence, the everlasting beauty and love of God. ? ?? ? ? 86T The question is frequently asked how to remove fly-specks, dust, smoke, etc., from oi^paintings without injuring them. . The following is recommended, although it may not suit all cases, and is at best not to be used by the amateur without caution. Put into two quarts of strong lye half a pound of Genoa soap, rasped very fine; let it simmer on the fire for half an hour, then strain it through a cloth. Apply the preparation with a brush to the picture, wipe it off with a sponge and apply the second time, which will remove all dirt. Then with a little oil, warmed, rub the picture and let it dry.