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lewis m. gbist, Proprietor.! giii (Independent <|[amiti! JJemspaper i <|jbr the frontotion of the jjBolitical, jsocial, gttjrmiltural and Commercial Jnterests of the $outh. |TERMS?$2.00 A YEAR IN ADVANCE. VOL. 36. YORKYILLE, S. C., WEDNESDAY, JTTNE 25, 1890. NO. 26. ByCapt,( H ||vAuthor of "D [Copyright, by J. I published 1 OVVTADOTC OlilVI OlO. Prelude.?During an Indian fight in the West, Capt. Hull, of the United States Regular army is killed. Before his death a large sum of money?about $3,000, the pay of soldiers who, 'while on held duty, missed the paymaster?was placed in his charge, while dying, he hands the package to Lawrence Hayne, a young officer whose father had been a dear friend of Capt. Hull's. Hayne has, by boyish irreverence for superior officers, made an enemy of Capt. Rayner, another officer engaged in the campaign. It also develops that Sergts. Clancy and Gower have lost considerable money by gambling, part of the missing cash belonging to others. They are in bad odor accordingly. Chapter 1.?The scene is a Pullman car on its way to Warrener, near which village is situated Fort Warrener. Among the passengers on the car are Mrs. Rayner, wife of Capt. Rayner; Miss Travers, her sister (who is engaged to marry Steven Van Antwerp, a rich New Yorker, who has shown a queer aversion to travel in the West), and a young man whose evident desire to avoid conversation or acquaintance has piqued the curiosity of the women. Before the j train reaches Warrener it takes aboard some badly frozen cavalrymen, who are ( being sent to the fort. The mysterious : young man does much to alleviate the sufferings of the frozen men on the way to Warrener. Chapter 2.?The ladies are greeted at Warrener by Capt. Rayner and other officers. It develops that the mysterious young man is Mr. Hayne, who had been promoted to a first lieutenancy in Capt. Rayner's company. Capt. Rayner shows that he still feels' a decided dislike for the yonng officer. Chapter 3.?Lieut. Hayne proves a disturbing element among the officers at ; Fort Warrener. A scandal has been at- : tached to his name in the past, and those who side with him are forced by the peculiarities of the case to side against | Capt. Rayner. The two men have been sworn enemies for five years. The com- j mandant of the post receives Lieut. ( Hayne kindly and decides to give a din ner in his honor. In fact, most of the | cavalry treat him well, while the infantry (his own regiment) do not. It transpires that the trouble connected with ?>.. ^ ? (.nni-tmnrtial. which na y nu o uautu t* oq u wwi f haa convicted him of a serious offense, j principally on Capt. Rayner's evidence. This ruling was reversed by higher authorities. Some of Hayne's old comrades make advances, which are repelled. Hayne takes up his quarters in a house at some distance from the other officers' quarters. Chapter 4.?Capt. Rayuer's wife gets angry because of the colonel's courtesy to Hayne, and the camp is divided into 1 Hayne and anti-Hayne factions. An i evening gathering at Capt. Rayner's j house, where the matter is discussed, is | broken up by cries of "lire'' from out- ; side. Chapter 5.?The fire is in a house occupied by Private Clancy (who was a sergeant during the Indian fight mentioned in the prelude) and his wife, who is a laundress. Lieut. Hayne rescues Clancy and his little daughter from the flames, and also saves a bundle of bank notes of large denomination, which Mrs. Clancy eagerly clutches and apparently considers of greater importance than the livesofher husband and child. Hayne himself is badly burned, and Miss Travers evinces great interest in the young officer for whom her sister and ~ ? UHJlLlgl 'In TVallirrr anj millll lUalllit. Chapter 6.?Clancy is in the hospital, and his wife, for the first time, acts tenderly toward him, watching him night and day. When Clancy is told that Lieutenant Hayne was the man who saved him, he is greatly agitated, and - his wife fiercely forbids any one to talk to him. Capt. Rayner's wife shows a strange interest in the welfare of Clancy aud wife. Hayne refuses to accept advances made by old comrades unless they express belief in his innocence of the charges of which he was convicted. This would be practically a declaration that they believed Capt. Rayner to be a perjurer, or at least mistaken. They decide to side with Capt. Rayner. riT? ? nmctn *7 ?Itfiaa Trovaro nulfq ltAT VyllATlAn i luiod a*w j v?w sister, Mrs. Rayner, why she shows so much interest in the Clancys, and declares her belief in Lieut. Hayne's innocence of the charge, which proves to have been that of theft. Tbey quarrel. It develops that Miss Travers does not love her dance, Van Antwerp, but has been persuaded into promising to marry him by his mother, and her sister. Chapter 8.?This chapter deals largely with the social disturbances caused by the Hayne affair. Clancy, while drunk, appears at Hayne's quarters and piteously begs to see the lieutenant. Chapter 9.?Miss Travers writes a letter to her fiance, Van Antwerp, telling him that she does not love him and that he had better release her from her promise. Miss Travers accidentally overhears a conversation between her sister and Mrs. Claucy, in which the former urges the latter*to watch Clancy, and on no account let him see Lieut. Hayne. Miss Travers is convinced that the man knows something about Hayne's case which Mr. Hayne ought to kuow. Chapter 10.?Miss Travers accidentally meets Lieut. Hayne at the house of a mutual friend. During a conversation it is shown that the charge against Hayne was that he appropriated the money handed-him by the dying Capt. Hull. Hayne's statement is that he rigidly guarded the package intrusted to him that day ; but that, when he opened it, it contained only waste paper. Chapter 11.?Hayne has recovered from the injuries received at the Clancy fire and returns to duty. That night Clancy turns up at Hayne's quarters with another request to "see him, and Hayne decides to talk to the man. Mrs. Clancy turns up and declares that her husband is drunk and has been beating her. Capt. Rayner, evidently anxious to prevent an interview between Clancy anu Havne, orders the former under arrest. Hayne is convinced that Clancy knows something which might help to uiucw nia of uauiu. Chapter 12.?Mrs. Rayner has learned that her sister, Miss Travers, has met Lieut. Hayne at the house of a mutual friend. Mrs. Rayner has been greatly worried, apparently over something connected with the Clancys for some time. She vents her ill nature by charging her sister with desiring to meet Lieut. Hayne when that young woman asserts her intention of again visiting that friend. The visit is, of course, given up and the sieters quarrel again. Chapter 13.?An officer, Capt. Buxton by name, while prowling around Lieut. Hayne's quarters at night, sees a carriage drive up. Later the shadows of Liout. Hayne and a young woman appear on tho window* curtain. Buxton jumps at the conclusion that llayno is entertaining a woman of the town. Hayne again meets Miss Travers accidentally the next day at tho friend's house.* It is announced that Miss Travers will soon return east. She is dependent on her sister, and because of the strained relations existing between them, has decided to accede to Van Antwerp's pleading for a speedy marriage, in order that she may no long be obliged to look to her brother-in-law for support. Hayne realizes that he is in love with Miss Travers. Chapter 14.?Capt. Buxton, through the absence of his superior officers, is in charge of the post. Buxton tells of his recent discovery that a woman was visiting Hayne at night. A dance (given iu honor of Mrs. Rayner and Miss Travers who were to leave the next day) is in progress wheu a soldier rushes in and calls for a doctor. He says that Lieut. Hayne has been shot and Capt. Rayner injured. CHAPTER XV. Straight as an arrow Mr. Blake had sped across the parade, darted through the east gate, and, turning, had arrived breathless at the wooden |jorch of Ilayne's quarters. Two bewildered looking members of the guard were at the door. Blako pushed his way through tho little hallway and into the dimly lighted parlor, where a strange scene met his eyes; Lieut. Hayne lay senseless and white upon tho lounge across the room; a young and pretty woman, singularly like him in feature and in the color of her abundant tresses, was kneeling beside him, chafing his hands, imploring him to speak?to look at her? unmindful of the fact that lver feet were Charles King, U.S. A. unraven* Ranch," "The Colonel's er." "Marion's Faith," Etc. I. Lippincott Company, Philadelphia, and ay special arrangement with them.] bare and that only a loose wrapper was thrown over her white night dress; Capt. Rayner was seated in a chair, deathiy white, and striving to stanch the I Kln/vi flint flmvwl from a deen crash in his temple and forehead; lie seemed | still stunned as by the force of the blow that had felled him, and Buxton, speechless with amaze and heaven only knows what other emotions, was glaring at a tall, athletic stranger who, in stocking feet, undershirt and trousers, held by three frightened looking soldiers and covered by the carbine of a fourth, was hurling defiance and denunciation at the commanding officer. A revolver lay upon the floor at the feet of a corporal of I the guard, who'was groaning in pain. A thin veil of powder smoke floated through the room. As Blake leaped in?his cavalry shoulder knots and helmet cords gleaming in the light?a flash of recognition shot into the stranger's eyes, and he curbed his fearful excitement and stopped short in his wrath. "What devil's work is this?" demanded Blake, glaring intuitively at Buxton. "These people resisted my guards, and had to take the consequences," said Buxton, with surly?yet shaken?digiyty. "What were the guards doing here? What, in God's name, are you doing here?" demanded Blake, forgetful of all consideration of rank and command in the fa<;o of such evident catastrophe. "I ordered them here?to enter and search." A pause. "Search what? what for?" "For?a woman I had reason to believe ho had bronght out here from town." "What? You infernal idiot? Why, she's his own sister, and this gentleman's wife!" The silence, broken only by the hard breathing of some of the excited men and the moaning cry of the woman, was for a moment intense. "Isn't this Mr. Hurley?" asked Blake, suddenly, as though to make sure, and turning one instant from his furious Cria%! r\ rSjji l>ril toll the first man who dares enterP} glare at his superior officer. The stranger, still held, though 110 longer struggling, replied between his set teeth: "Certainly. I've told him so." "By heaven, Buxton, is there no limit to your asininity? What fearful work will you do next?" "I'll arrest you, sir, if you speak another disrespectful word!" thundered Buxton, recovering consciousness that as commanding officer he could defend himself against Blake's assault. "Do it and be?you know what I would say if a lady were not present. Do it if you think you can stand having this thing ventilated by the court. Pah! T Ja. A. 1. IT71 i can t wasw wurus uu vou. >v no s gone for the doctor? Here, you men, let go of Mr. Hurley now. Help me, Mr. Hurley, please. Get your wife back to her room. Bring me some water, one of you." And with that he was bending over Ilayne and unbuttoning the fatigue uniform in which he was still dressed. Another moment and the doctor had come in, and with him half the young officers of the garrison. Rayner was led away to his own quarters. Buxton, dazed and frightened now, ordered the guards back to their post, and stood pondering over the enormity of his blunder. No one spoke to him or paid the faintest attention other than to elbow him out of the way occasionally. The doctor never so much as noticed him. Blake had briefly recounted the catastrophe to those who first arrived, and as the story went from mouth to mouth it grew no better for Buxton. Once he turned short on Mr. Foster, and in aggrieved and sullen tone remarked: "I thought you follows in the Itiflers said he had no relations." "We weren't apt to bo invited to meet them if he had; but I don't know that anybody was in position to know anything about it. What's that got to do with this affair, I'd like to hear?" At last somebody took him home. Mrs. Waldron, meantime, had arrived and been admitted to Mrs. Hurley's room. The doctor refused to go to Capt. Rayner's, even when a messenger came from Mrs. Rayner herself. He referred her to his assistant, Dr. Grimes. Ilayne had regained consciousness, but was sorely shaken. He had been floored by a blow from the butt of a musket; but the report that he was shot proved happily untrue. His right hand still lav near the hilt of his light sword; there was little question that he had raised his weapon against a superior officer, and would have used it with telling effect. Few people slept that night along officers' row. Never had Warrener heard of such excitement. Buxton knew not what to do. lie paced the floor in agony of mind, for he well understood that there was no shirking the responsibility. From beginning to end he was the cause of the whole catastrophe. He had gone so far as to order his corporal to fire, and he knew it could be proved against him. Thank God, the perplexed corporal had shot high, and the other men, barring the one who had saved liayner from a furious lunge of the lieutenant's sword, had used their weapons as gingerly and reluctantly as possible. | At the very least, he knew, an investiga- ! tionand fearful scandal must come of it. j Night though it was, he sent for the act- | ing adjutant ana several or his brother captains, and, setting refreshments before them, besought their advice. lie was still commanding officer de jure, but he had lost all stomach for its functions. Ho would have been glad to send for Blake and beg his pardon for submitting to his insubordinate and abusive language, if that course could have stopped inquiry; but he well knew that the whole thing would be noised abroad in less than no time. At first lie thought to give orders against the telegraph operator's sending any messages concerning the matter; but that would have been only a temporary hinderance: he could not control the instruments and operators in town, only three miles away. He almost wished he j had been knocked down, shot or stabbed I in the melee; but lie had kept in the rear when the skirmish began, and Rayner and the corporal were the sufferers. They had been knocked "endwise" by Mr. Hurley's practiced fists after Hayne was struck down by the corporal's musket. It was the universal sentiment among the officers of the ?th as they scattered to their homes that Buxton had "wound himself up this time, anyhow;" and no one had any sympathy for him? not one. The very best light in which he could tell the story only showed the affair as a flagrant and inexcusable outrage. Capt. Rayner, too, was in fearful plight. Ho had simply obeyed orders: but all the old story of his persecution of nayne would now be revived; all men would see in his participation in the affair only additional reason to adjudge him cruelly persistent in his hatred of the young officer, antft in view of tho utter ruthlessness and wrong of this assault, would be more than ever confident r\P fKrt fulcitr r\f liia rtneifinn in f.ViP nrifr Vi IUV V4 itM 4M ?*tv v -Q inal case. As he was slowly led up stairs to his room and his tearful wife and silent sister-in-law bathed and cleansed his wound, he saw with frightful clearness how the crush of circumstances was now upon him aud his good name. Great heaven 1 how those words of Hayne's five years before rang, throbbed, burned, beat like trip hammers through his whirling brain! It seemed ' as though they followed him and his fortunes like a curse. He sat silent, stunned, awe stricken at the force of the calamity that had befallen him. How could ho ever induce an officer and a gentleman to believe that lie was no instigator in this matter??that it was ! all Buxton's doing, Buxton's low imagination that had conceived the possibility of such a crime on the part of Mr. Ilayne, and Buxton's blundering, bull headed abuse of authority that had capped the fatal climax? It was some time before his wife could get him to speak at all. She was hysterically bemoaning the fate that had brought them into contact with such people, and from time to time giving vent to the comforting assertion that never had tliero been a cloud on. their domestic or regimental sky until that wretch had been assigned to the Killers. She knew from the hurried and guarded explanations of Dr. Grimes and one or two young officers who helped Rayner home that the .fracas had occurred at Mr. Hayne's?that there had been a mistake for which her husband wa1 not responsible, but that Capt. Buxton was entirely to blame. But her husband's ashen face told her a story of something far deeper; she knew that now lie was involved In fearful trouble, and, whatj%cr may have been her innermost thoughts, it was the first and irresistible impulse to throw all the blame upon her scapegoat. Miss Travers, almost as pale and quite as silent as the captain, was busying herself in helping her sister; but she could with difficulty restrain her longing to bid her be silent. She, too, had endeavored to learn from her escort on their hurried homeward rush across the parade what the nature of the disturbance had been. She, too, had suggested Clancy but the officer by her side set his teeth as he replied that he wished it had been Clancy. She had heard, too, the message brought by a cavalry trumpeter from Mr. Blake. He wanted Capt. Ray to come to Mr. Hayne's as soon as lie had seen Mrs. Ray safely home, and would he please ask Mrs. Stannard to come with him at the same time? Why should Mr. Blake want Mrs. Stannard at Mr. Hayne's? She saw Mr. Foster run up and speak a few words to Mrs. Waldron and heard that lady reply, "Certainly; I will go with you now." What could it mean? At last, as she was returning to her sister's room after a moment's absence, she heard a question at which her heart stood still. It was Mrs. Ray? ner who asked: "But the creature was there, was she not?" The answer sounded more like a moan of anguish: "The creature was his sister. It was her husband who" But, as Capt. Rayner buried his battered face in his hands at this juncture, the rest of the sentence was inaudible. Miss Travers had heard quite enough, however. She stood there one moment, appalled, dropped upon the tloor the bandage she had been making, turned and sought her room, and was seen no more that night. Over the day or two that followed this affair the veil of silence may best be drawn, in order to give time for the sediment of truth to settle through the whirlpool of stories in violent circulation. The colonel came back on the first train after the adjournment of the court, and could hardly wait for that formality. Contrary to his custom of "sleeping on'" a question, he was in his office within half an hour after his return to the post, and from that time until near tattoo was busily occupied taking the statements of the active participants in the affair. This was three days after its occurrence; and Capt. Rayner, though up and able to bo about, had not left his quarters. Mrs. Payner had abandoned her trip to the east, for the present at least. Mr. Ilavne still lay weak and prostrate in his darkened room, attended hourly by Dr. Pease, who feared brain fever, and nursed assiduously by Mrs. Hurley for whom Mrs. "Waldron, Mrs. Stannard, and many other ladies in the garrison could not do enough to content themselves. Mr. Hurley's wrist was badly sprained and in a sling; but the colonel went purposely to call upon him and to shake his other hand, and ho bogged to be permitted to see Mrs. Hurley, who came in pale and soft eyed, and with a gentle demeanor that touched thecolonel more than ho could tell. Iler check Hushed for a moment as he bent low over her hand, and told her how bitterly he regretted that his absence from tho post had resulted in so grievous an experience; it was not tho welcome ho and his regiment would have given her had they known of her intended visit. To Mr. Hurley he briefly said that he need rtnf: fnnv linf thnt* full inofipn ti'Aiiltl meted out to the instigator or instigators of the assault; but, as a something to make partial amends for their suffering, he said that nothing now could check the turn of the tide in their brother's favor. All the cavalry officers except Buxton, all the infantry officers except llayncr, had already been to call upon him since the night of the occurrence, and had striven to show how distressed they were over the outrageous blunders of their temporary commander. Buxton bad written a note expressive of a desire to see him and "explain," but was informed that explanations from him simply aggravated the injury; and Itayner, crushed and humiliated, was fairly in hiding in his room, too sick at heart to want to see anybody, and waittim ../>?,<f fi.n 111^ Ivy I irliu HWA Vii KJi. lliu UUbliWl iil the confident expectation that nothing less than court martial and disgrace would be his share of the outcome. He would gladly have resigned and gone at once, but that would have been resigning uuder virtual charges; he had to stay, and his wife had to stay with him, and Nellie with her. Iiy this time Nellio Travel's did not want to go. She had but one thought now?to make amends to Mr. Hayno for the wrong her thoughts had done him. It was time for Mr. Van Antwerp to come to the wide west and look after his interests, but Mrs. Rayner had ceased to urge, while he continued to implore her to bring Nellie cast at once. Almost any man as rich and independent as Steven Van Antwerp would have gone to the scene and settled matters for himself. Singularly enough, this one solution of the problem seemed never to occur to him as feasible. Meantime the colonel had patiently unraveled the threads and had brought to light the whole truth and nothing but the truth. It made a singularly simple story, after all; but that was so much the worse for Buxton. The only near relation Mr. Ilayne had in the world was this one younger sister, who six years before had married a manly, energetic fellow, a civil engineer in the employ of jui eastern railway. During llavne's "mountain station^ exile "Hurley" had brought his wife to Denver, where far better prospects awaited him. Ho won promotion in his profession, and was now one of the principal engineers employed by a road running new lines through the Colorado Rockies. Journeying to Salt Lake, he came around byway of Warrener, so that his wife and he might have a look at the brother she had not seen in years. Their train was due there early in the afternoon, but was blocked by drifts and did not reach the station until late at night. There they found a note from him begging them to | take a carriage they would find waiting for them and come right out and spend the night at his quarters; he would send I them back in abundant time to catch the j westward train in the morning. He could j not come in, because that involved the ! necessity of asking his captain's permisj sion, and the}- knew his relations with ! fltnf pontnin. It was iier shadow Buxton had seen on the window screen; and as none of Buxton's acquaintances had ever mentioned that Hayne had ariy relations, and as Hayne, in fact, had had no one tor years to talk to about his personal affairs, nobody but himself and the telegraph operator at the post really knew of their sudden visit. Buxton, being an unmitigated cad, had put the worst interpretation on his discovery, and, in his eagerness to clinch j the evidence of conduct unbecoming an officer and a gentleman upon Mr. Hayne, had taken no wise head into his confiI dence. Never dreaming that the shadow could be that of a blood relation, never doubting that a fair, frail compa 'ion I from the frontier town was the explana| tion of Mr. Ilayne's preference for that out of the way house and late hours, he stated his discovery to Ravner as a positive fact, going so far as to say that his sentries had recognized her as she drove away in the carriage. If he had not been an ass as well as a cad, ho would have interviewed the driver of the carriage; but he had jumped at his theory, and his sudden elevation to the command of the post gave him opportunity to carry out .his virtuous determination that no such goings on should disgrace his administration. He gave instructions to certain soldier clerks and "daily duty" men employed in the quartermaster, commissary and ordnance offices along Prairie avenue to keep their eyes open and let him know of any visitors coming out to Hayne's by night, and if a lady came in a carriage he was to be called at once. Mr. Hurley promised that on their return from Salt Lake they would come back by way of Warrener and spend two days with Hayne, since only an hour or two had they enjoyed of his company on their way west; and the very day that the officers went off to the court came the telegram saying the Hurleys would arrive that evening. Hayne had already uuiit'u over uieir pivspwuvc wsm n*uu Maj. Waldron, and the latter had told his wife: but all intercourse of a friendly" character was at an end between them and tho Rayners and Buxtons; there wore no more gossipy chats among the ladies. Indeed, it so happened that only to one or two people had Mrs. Waldron had time to mention that Mr. Hayne's sister was coming, and neither the Rayners nor Buxtons had heard of it; neither had Nellie Travers, for it was after the evening of her last visit that Mrs. Waldron was told. Ilayne .ran with his telegram to the major, and the latter had introduced himself and Maj. Stannard to Mrs. Hurley, when, after a weary wait of some hours, the train arrived. Blake, too, was there, on the lookout for some friends, ami ho was presented to Mrs. Hurley while her husband was attending to sorao matters about the baggage. The train went on eastward, carrying the field officers with it. Blake had to go with his friends baclc to the post, and Mr. and Mrs. Hurley, after the former had attended to some business and seen some railway associates of his at the hotel, took the carriage they had had before and drove out to the garrison, where Private Schweinbopf saw the lady rapturously welcomed by Lieut. Hayne anil escorted into tho house, while Mr. Hurley remained settling with the driver out in the darkness. It was not long before the commanding officer pro tern, was called from tho hop room, whero the dance was going on delightfully, and notified that the mysterious visitor had again appeared, with evident intention of spending the night, as the carriage had returned to town. "Why, certainly," reasoned Buxton. "It's the very night ho would choose, sinco everybody will be at the hop: no one will be apt to interfere, and everybody will be unusually drowsy and less inclined to take notice in the morning." Here was ample opportunity for a brilliant stroke of work. He would first satisfy himself she was there, then surround the house with sentries so that she could not escape, while he, with the officer of the day and the corporal of the guard, entered the house and confronted him and her. That would wind up Mr. Ilayne's career beyond question; nothing short of dismissal would result. Over ho weijf;, full of his project, listened at Ilayne's like the eavesdropping sneak he was, saw again the shadow of the graceful form and heard the silvery, happy laugh, and then it was he sent for ltayner. It was near midnight when lie led his forces to the attack. A light was now burning in the second story, which he thought must be Sam's; but the lights had been turned low in the parlor and the occupants had disappeared from sight and hearing. By inquiry he had ascertained that Ilayne's bedroom was just back o? the parlor. A man was stationed at the back door, others at the sides, with orders to arrest any one who attempted to escape; then softly he stepped to the front door, telling ltayner to follow him, and the corporal of the guard to follow both. To his surprise, the door was unlocked, and a light was burning in the hall. Never knocking, he stepped in, marched through the hall into the parlor, which was empty, and, signaling "Come on" to ! his followers, crossed the parlor and seized the knob of the bedroom door. It was locked, ltayner, looking white and worried, stood just behind him, and the corporal but a step farther back. Before j Buxton could knock and demand admisi sion,which was his intention, quick footj stops came flying down the stairs from . tlio second srorv, ami inc mo wneeiea about in surprise to fiiul Mr. Ilayne, j dressed in his fatigue uniform, standing I at the llireshdld and staring at them ! with mingled astonishment, incredulity and indignation. A sudden light seemed to dawn upon him as he glanced from one to the other. With a leap like a cat he threw himself upon Buxton, hurled him hack, and stood at the closed door confronting them with blazing eyes and clinching lists. J "Open that door, sir!" cried Buxton, j "You have a woman hidden there. Open, 1 or stand aside." "You hounds! I'll kill the first man ; who dares enter!" was the furious an! swer; and Hayne had snatched from the j wall his long infantry sword and flashed j the blade in the lamplight. Itayner ! made a step forward, half irresolute. 1 lay lie leaped at him like a tiger. "Fire! Quick!" shouted Buxton, in wild excitement. Bang! went the carbine, and the j bullet crashed through the plaster over; head, and, seeing the gleaming steel at | his superior's throat, the corporal had sent the heavy butt crashing upon the ' lieutenant's skull only just in time; there j would have been murder in another secj ond. The next instant he was standing I on his own head in the corner, seeing a multitude of twinkling, whirling stars, from the midst of which Capt. Rayner was reeling backward over a chair and a number of soldiers were rushing upon a powerful picture of furious manhood?a stranger in shirtsleeves, who had leaped from the bedroom. Told as it was?as it had to be?all over the department, thero seemed to be but one thing to say, and that referred to Buxton: "Well! isn't he a phenomenal ass?" CHAPTER XVI. 1 'I' She seized a icrap and stepped to the doorway. Mr. Ilayne was up and around again. The springtime was coming, and the prairie roads were good and dry, and the doctor had told him he must live in the open air awhile and ride and walk and drive. He stood in no want ol "mounts," for three or four of his cavalry friends were ready to lend him a saddle horse any day. Mr. and Mrs. Hurley, after making many pleasant acquaintances, had gone on to Denver, and Capt. Buxton was congratulating himself that he, at least, had not run foul of the engineer's powerful fists. Buxton was not in arrest, for the case had proved a singular "poser." It occurred during the temporary absence of the colonel; he could not well place the captain under arrest for things he had done when acting as post commander. In obedience to his orders from department headquarters, he madg his report of the affair, and indicated$iihat Capt. Buxton's conduct had been inexcusable. Rayner had done nothing but, as was proved, reluctantly obey the captain's orders, so he could not be tried. Hayne, who had committed one of the most serious crimes in tne military catalogue?that of drawing and raising a weapon against an officer who was in discharge of his duty (Rayner), had the sympathy of the whole command, and nobody would prefer charges againsl him. The general decided to have the report go up to division headquarters and thence it went with its varied com ments and indorsements to Washington and now a court of inquiry was talked of. Meantime poor bewildered Buxton was let severely alone. What made him utterly miserable was the fact that ii: his own regiment, the ?th, nobodj spoke of it except as something thai everybody knew was sure to happen the moment he got in command. If it had n't been that 'twould have been something else.. The only certainty was that Bux ton would never lose a chance of makinj an ass of himself. Instead of being furious with him, the whole regiment?officers and men?sim ply ridiculed and laughed at him. H< liad talked of preferring charges againsi Blake for insubordination, and asked th< adjutant what he thought of it. It wa* the first time ho had spoken to the adju taut for weeks, and the adjutant rushec out of the office to tell the crowd tocom< in and "hear Buxton's latest." It begai to look as though nothing serious woulc ever come of the affair, until Rayner re appeared and people saw how very ill li< was. Dr. Pease had been consulted and it was settled that he as well as liii wife must go away for several month; and have complete rest and change. Ii was decided that they would leave bj tho 1st of May. All this Mr. Hayne heard through his kind friend, Mrs Waldron. One day when he first began to sit up and before he had been out at all, she came and sat with him in his sunshinj parlor. There had been a silence for a moment as she looked around upon the few pictures and upon that bareness anc coldness which, do what he will, no man can eradicate from his abiding place until he calls in the deft and dainty hand ol woman. "I shall be so glad when you have a wife, Mr. Haynel" was her quiet comment. "So shall I, Mrs. Waldron," was the response. "Arnd isn't it high time we were begint ..m _ ^ ? mug LU liuur VL ii CllUHJtt i'Ul^lVU 1X1J intrusiveness, but that was the very matt?sr of which the major and I were talking as ho brought me over." "There is something to be done first, Mrs. Waldron," he answered. "I cannot offer any woman a clouded name. It is not enough that people should begin to believe that I was innocent and my persecutors utterly in error, if not perjured. I must be able to show who was the real culprit, and that is not easy. The doctor and I thought wo saw a way not long ago; but it proved delusive." And he sighed deeply. "Iliad expected to sec the major about it the very day he got back from the court; but we have had no chance to talk." "Mr. Hayne," she said, impulsively, "a woman's intuition is not always at fault. Tell me if you believo that any one on the post has any inkling of the truth. I have a reason for asking." "I did think it possible, Mrs. Waldron, I cannot be certain now; and it's too late, anyway." "IIow, too late? What's too late?" He paused a moment, a deeper shadow than usual on his face; then lie lifted liif head and looked fairly at her. "I should not have said that, Mrs. Waldron. It can never lie too late. Bui what I mean is that?just now I spoke of offering 110 woman a clouded name. Even if it were unclouded, I could not offer it where I would." "Because you have heard of the engagement?" was the quick, eager question. There was 110 instant of doubt in the woman as to where the offering would be made, if it only could. "I knew of the engagement only a day ago," I10 answered, with stern effort at self control. "Blake was speaking of her, and it came out all of a sudden." He turned his head away again. It was more than Mrs. Waldron could stand. She leaned impetuously towards him. and nut her hand on his: "Mr. llnyne, that is no engagement of heart to heart. It is entirely a thing of Mrs. Rayner's doing; anil I know it. She is poor?dependent?and has been simply sold into bondage." "And you think she cares nothing for the position, the wealth and social advantages this would give her? All, Mrs. "Waldron, consider." "I have considered. Mr. Ilayne, if I were a man, like you, that child should never go hack to him. And they are going next week. You must get well." It was remarked that Mr. Ilayne was out surprisingly quick for a fellow who had been so recently threatened with brain fever. The Rayners were to go cast at once, so it was said, though the captain's leavo of absence luul not yet been ordered. The colonel could grant him seven days at any time, and he had telegraphic notification that there would bo no objection when the formal application reached the war department. Itayner called at the colonel's office and asked that he might be permitted to start with his wife and sister. Ilis second lieutenant would move in and occupy his quarters and tako caro of all Lis personal effects during their absence; and Lieut. Ilayne was a most thorough oflicer, and lie felt that in turning over his company to him he left it in excellent hands. The colonel saw the misery in the captain's face, and he was touched by both looks and words: 0 "You must not take this last affair toe the ?th have known Capt. Uuxton so many years that with us there is no question as to where all the blame lies. It seems, too, to he clearly understood by Mr. Hayne. As for your previous ideas of that officer, I consider it too delicate a matter to speak of. You must see, however, how entirely beyond reproach his general character appears to have been. But here's another matter: Clancy's discharge has arrived. Does the old fellow know you had requested it?'1 "No, sir," answered Rayner, with hesitation and embarrassment. "Wewanted to keep him straight, as 1 told you we would, and he would probably get on a big tear if he knew his service days were numbered. I didn't look for its being granted for forty-eight hours yet." "Well, he will know it before night; and no doubt he will be badly cut up. Clancy was a fine soldier before he married that harridan of a woman." "She has made him a good wife since they came into the Riflers, colonel, and has taken mighty good care of the old fellow." .'T. -V. *1 ,15.J 5? fl. At is Jiiuiu Liiuit one uxu ii& vuv via, sir. Sho was a handsome, showy woman wlien I first saw her?before my promotion to tho regiment?and Clancy was one of the finest soldiers in the brigade the last year of the war. She ran through all his money though, and in the ?th we looked upon her as the real cause of his break down, especially after her affair with that sergeant who deserted. You've heard of him probably. He disappeared after the Battle Butte campaign, and we hoped he'd run off with Mrs. Clancy; but he hadn't. She was there when we got back, big as ever and growing ugly." "Do you mean that Mrs. Clancy had a lover when she was in the ?th?" "Certainly, Capt. Rayner. We supposed it was commonly known. He was a fine looking, black eyed, dark I haired, dashing fellow, of good educai tion, a great swell among the men the short time he was with us, and Mrs. i Clancy made a dead set at liim from the i start. He never seemed to care for her i very much." "This is something I never heard of," said Rayner, with grave face, "and it will be a good deal of a shock to my wife, for she had arranged to take her i east with Clancy and Kate, and they were to invest their money in some little i business at their old home." i "Yes; it was mainly on the woman's ! account we wouldn't re-enlist Clancy in I the ?th. Wo could stand him, but she t was too much for us?and for the other : sergeant, too. He avoided her before wo i started on the campaign, I fancy. Odd! I can't think of his name?Billings, what ! was the name of that howling swell of a ' sergeant who was in Hull's troop at 1 Battle Butte?time Hull was killed? I 1 mean tho man that Mrs. Clancy was said 1 to have eloped with." ' "Sergt. Gower,sir," said the adjutant, 1 without looking up from his work. He ! did look up, however, when a moment after the captain hurriedly left the office, 1 and he saw thai Rayner's face was death Iy wmte; it was gnasuy. ! "What took Rayner off so suddenly?" Raid the colonel, wheeling around in his s chair. "I don't know, sir, unless there was i something to startle him in the name." t "Why should there be?" i "There are those who think thatGower i got away with more than his horse and arms, colonel; he was not at Battle Butte, 1 though, and that is what made it a mysi tery." i "Where was he, then?" I "Back with the wagon train, sir, and lie never got in sight of the Buttes or Rayner's battalion. You know Rayner ; had four companies there." ; "I don't see how Gower could have j taken the money, if that's what you t mean, if lie never camo up to the Buttes; r Rayner swore it was there in Hull's ; original package. Then, too, how could Gower's namo affect him if he had never seen hira?" ( "Possibly ho has heard something. ; Clancy has been talking." r "I have looked into that," said the i coloneL "Clancy denies knowing anyj thing?says lie was drunk and didn't I know what ho was talking about." t All the same it was queer, thought the adjutant, and ho greatly wanted to see ; the doctor and talk with him; but by the time his office work was done the doctor l had gone to town, and when he came back he was sent for to the laundress' quarters, where Mrs. Clancy was in hys, terics and Michael had again been very bad. Soon after the captain's return to his quarters, it seems, a messenger was sent from Mrs. Rayner requesting Mrs. Clancy to come and see her at once. She was ushered up stairs to madame's own apartment, much to Miss Travers' sur. prise, .and that young lady was further astonished, when Mrs. Clancy reap, peared, nearly an hour later, to see that she had been weeping violently. The house was in some disorder, most of the trunks being packed and in readiness for the start, and Miss Travers was entertaining two or three young officers and | waiting for her sister to come down to , luncheon. "The boys" were lachrymose over her , prospective departure?at least they affected to be?and were variously sprawled about tho parlor when Mrs. ' Clancy descended, and the inflamed condition of her eyes and nose became ap, parent to all. There was much chaff and fun, therefore, when Mrs. Rayner finally appeared, over tho supposed affiiction of the big Irish woman at the prospect of parting with her patroness. Miss Trav ers saw with singular sensations that Iwth the captain and her usually self re, liant sister were annoyed and embarrassed by the topic and strove to change it; but Foster's propensity for mimicry and his ability to imitate Mrs. Clancy's j combined brogue and sniffle proved too much for their elforts. Kate was in a royally bad temper by the time the youngsters left the house, and when Nellio would have made some laughing allusion to the fun the young fellows had been having over her morning caller, she was suddenly and tartly checked with: "We've had too much of that already. Just understand now that you have 110 time to waste, if your packing is unfinished. We start to-morrow afternoon." "Why, Kate! I had 110 idea we were to go for two days yet! Of courso I can be ready; but why did you not tell me ! before?" "I did not know it?at least it was not decided?until this morning, after the captain came back from the office. There is nothing to prevent our going, now that he has seen the colonel." "There was not before, Kate; for Mr. Billings told me yesterday morning, and I told you, that the colonel had said you could start at once, and you replied that the captain could not be ready for several days?three at least." "Well, now he is; and that ends it. Never mind what changed his mind." It was unsafe to triile with Nellie Travers, as Mrs. liayner might have known. She saw that something had occurred to make the captain eager to start at once; and then there was that imme, diate sending for Mrs. Clancy, the long, secret talk up in Kate's room, the evident mental disturbance of both feminines on their respective reappearances and the sudden announcement to her. While there conltl be no timo to make formal parting calls, tliero were still some two or three ladies in the garrison whom she longed to see before saying adieu; and then there was Mr. Ilayne, whom she had wronged quite as bitterly as any one else had wronged him. lie was out that day for the first time, and she longed to see him and longed to fulfill the neglected promise. That she | must do at the very least. If she could not see him she must write, that he might liavo the note before they went away. All these thoughts were rushing through her brain as she busied herself , about her littlo room, stowing away time to time to dart into her sister's room in answer to some querulous call. Yet never did she leave without a quick glance from lier window up and down the row. For whom was she looking? It was just about dusk when she heard crying downstairs?a child?and apparently in the kitchen. Mrs. Rayner was with the baby, and Miss Travers started for the stairs, calling that she would go and see what it meant. She was down in the hall before Mrs. Rayner's imperative and repeated calls brought her to a full stop. "What is it?" she inquired. "You come back here and hold baby. I know perfectly what it is. It is Kate Clancy, and she-wants me. You can do nothing." Too late, madauie! The intervening doors were opened, and in marched cook, leading the poor little Irish girL, who was sobbing piteously. Mrs. Rayner came down the stairs with all speed, bringing her burly son and heir in her arms. She would have ordered Nell aloft, but what excuse could she give? And Miss Travers was alroady bending over the child and striving to Btil. her heartbreaking cries. "What is it? Where's your father?" demanded Mrs. Rayner. "Oh, ma'am, I don't know I I came here to tell the captain. Shure he's discharged, ma'am, an' his heart's broke entirely, an' mother says we'ro all to go with the captain to-morrow, and he swears he'll kill himself beforo he'll go, an' I can't find him, ma'am. It's almost dark now." "Go back and tell your mother I want her instantly. We'll find your father. Go!" she repeated, as the child shrank and hesitated. "Here?the front way!" And little Kate sped away into the shadows across the dim level of the parade. Then the sisters faced each other. There was a fire in the younger's eye that Mrs. Rayner would have escaped if she could. "Kate, it is to get Clancy away from the possibility of revealing what he knows that you have planned this sudden move, and I know it," said Miss Travers. "You need not answer." She seized a wrap from the hat rack and stepped to the doorway. Mrs. Rayner threw herself after her. "Nellie, where are you going? What \\ ill you do?" "To Mrs. Waldron's, Kate; if need be, to Mr. Hayne's." # # # * * A bright fire was burning in Maj. Waldron's cozy parlor, where he and his good wife were seated in earnest talk. It was just after sunset when Mr. Hayne dropped in to pay his first visit after the few days in which he had been confined to his quarters* He was looking thin, paler than usual, and far more restless and eager in manner than of. old. The Waldrons welcomed him with more than usual warmth, and the major speedily led the conversation up to the topic which was so near to his heart. "You and I must see the doctor and have a triangular council over this thing, Ilayne. Three heads are better than none; and if, as he suspects, old Clancy really knows anything when he's drunk that ho cannot tell when he's sober, I shall depart from Mrs. Waldron's principles and join the doctor in Iris pet scheme of getting him drunk again. 'In vino Veritas,' you know. And we ougb% to bo about it, too, for it wou't be long before his discharge comes, and once away wo should be in the lurch." "There seems so little hope there, major. Even t^ie colonel has called him up and questioned him." "Ay, very true, but alwaj'6 when the old sergeant was sober. It is when drunk that Clancy's conscience pricks him to tell what he either knows or suspects." A light, quick footstep was heard on the piazza, the hall door opened, and without knock or ring, bursting impetuously in upon them, there suddenly appeared Miss Travers, her eyes dilated with excitement. At sight of the group she stopped short, and colored to the very roots of her shining hair. "How glad I am to see you, Nellie!" exclaimed Mrs. Waldron, as all rose to greet her. An embarrassed, half distraught reply was her only answer. She had extended l>oth hands to the elder lady; but now, startled, almost stunned, at finding herself in the presence of the very man she most wanted to see, she stood with downcast eyes, irresolute, lie, too, had not stepped forward?had not offered his hand. She raised her blue eyes for one quick glance, and saw his pale, pain thinned face, read anew the story of his patience, his suffering, his heroism, and realized how she too had wronged him and that her very awkwardness and silence might tell him that shameful fact. It was more tlran she could stand. "I came?purposely. I had hoped to find you. Mr. Ilayne. You?you remember that I had something to tell you. It was about Clancy. You ought to see him. I'm sure you ought, for he must know?he or Mrs. Clancy?something about your?your trouble; and I've just tins minute heard that they?that he's going away to-morrow, and you must lind him to-night, Mr. Ilayne; indeed you must." Who can paint her as she stood there, blushing, pleading, eager, frightened, yet determined? Who can picture the wild emotion in his heart, reflected in his face? lie stepped quickly to her side with the light leaping to his eyes, his hands extended as though to grasp hers; but it was Waldron that spoke first: "Where is he going? How?" "Oh, with us, major. We go to-morrow, and they go with us. My sister lias some reason?I cannot fathom it. Sho wants them away from here, and Clancy's discharge came today. He must see him first," she said, indicating Mr. Jiayne Dy a noa or Jier pretty nearu. "They say Clancy has run off and got away from his wife. He doesn't want to bo discharged. They cannot find him now; but perhaps Mr. Hayne can. Mr. Hayne, try to. You?you must." "Indeed wo must, Ilayne, and quick a!>out it," said the major. "Now is our chance, I verily believe. Let us get the doctor first; then little Kate will best know where to look for Clancy. Come, man, get your overcoat." And he hastened to the hall. Hayne followed as though in^a dream, reached the threshold, turned, looked back, made one quick step toward Miss Travers with outstretched hand, then checked liimself as suddenly. His yearning eyes seemed fastened on her burning face, his lips quivered with the intensity of his emotion. She raised her eyes and gave him one quick look, half entreaty, half command; he seemed ineffectually struggling to speak?to thank her. One moment of irresolution, then, without a word of any kind, he sprang to the door. She carried his parting glance in her heart of hearts all night long. There was 110 mistaking what ft told. [TO UK CONTINUED NEXT WKEK.] Fasting Men.?In the current number of the New Review there is an interesting article by J)r. Robson filutiunr moil T+ Willi Id JVUUOC H|/VH JilVtl * ?/ ft wv.v seem that the human machine can consume itself when it gets no fresh fuel, and that this process may last until there is nothing left to consume. Death then ensues, due either to exhaustion or to loss of heat. A fat pig was buried in its sty for one hundred and sixty days under a chalk clitf at 1 )over. * I ts weight was reduced from one hundred and sixty pounds to forty pounds. In 1831, a murderer at Toulouse committed suicide by abstaining from food for sixty-three days. A few yerrs ago a ladv determined to eat noihing; she died on the fiftieth day. A French doctor who made experiments on animals found that sudden death was not uncommon long before the normal time. pisccUitnrous j&cadittij. DOES FARMING FAY ? A PRACTICAL FARMER GIVES SOME VERY INTERESTING FIGURES. Mr. David T. Lesslie is a well known farmer of Eastern York. His home is a neatly painted frame building, situated in a pleasant grove of black locusts, about six miles east of Rock Hill, on the Three C's railroad. Mr. Lesslie is about sixty years of age, and has been farming for more than forty years. He has made a <siifwwj? r>f the business. a success of life generally, and he is now enjoying the fruits of his well-spent years. When Mr. Lesslie came out of the war, he was thirty-seven years of age, and his sole possession was a small plantation. He had a family to support and one or two security debts to pay. By means of his farm he has discharged both these obligations, and done a great deal more. He has given all his children a good common-school education, and made them valuable members of society, and accumulated considerable property for himself. All his children?three boys and three girls?are married, live on their own plantations, husbands and wives all belong to and attend the same church, and all live within a radius of a mileand a half of the "old gentleman," who, with his good wife, is still keeping house very much after the same style as did the happy pair when they were first married. Though a decided success, Mr. Lesslie was never an enthusiast. He deals altogether in facts and figures, and takes things as they are, not as he would like to have them. Although his memory runs back over his lifetime as clear as written history and is full of interesting reminiscences of the various years of drought, famine, plenty and abundance, we will not reproduce any of this data just at this lime, the matter in hand relating more especially to the present. To the writer, who visited him not long ago, Mr. Lesslie said: "There is more clear money in wheat and oats than in any other crop. Take an acre of wheat: You can buy the seed, break up the land, sow, cradle, and put it in your barn for a dollar and a half. An average acre ought to make say five bushels, which we will put as being worth $6.75. Now take away $1.50 for the day-and-a-halfs work?man and horse?and you have left $5.25, or $3.50 a day for your labor. This does not include fertilizers, of course. The more fertilizers you use of the right kind, the more wheat you ought to make, and consequently the larger the profits. "The expense of preparing an acre of oats is just the same as that of preparing for wheat, and the larger number of bushels about makes up for the difference in price. "Of the staple crop, next to whtat and oats, comes corn, for profit. We will put the average yield per acre at twenty bushels, and say it is worth $15; and that is rather a large estimate. Now it takes a plow one day to break the land and another to bed it up. That is two dollars. A quarter of a day to drop and cover?twenty-five cents. One hoeing-fifty cents. Another day and a half plowing? one dollar and a half; and a half a (lay to gather?twenty-five cents. There are five and one quarter days work for the man, and three and a quarter for the horse, worth $-1.75. Take $4.75 from $15 and-we have $10.25. And 5J into $10.25, and you have $1.92 a day. "There will be about 200 pounds of fodder, which costs you one-half for the pulling. This is worth $1.00, and about pays for the fertilizer that has been used. "Now as to cotton, I can't figure it out in any other way than that there is less profit in this crop than any other we raise. "Calculate on a basis of 800 pounds 4Unnnwn Tf nnofu 41 HO fn lirool/" IIP IV llivavivi MV V/WUJ V*??7U vw M4vtwk M|/ the land, another to bed, twenty-five cents to plant; ten furrows to the row, $2.00 ; three hoeing6, $1.50, and picking $3.40. To do this work requires 144 days. Your 800 pounds of cotton is worth $20.40, and the seed is worth $2.88. Total, $29.28. Your labor has cost you $9.15 and your guano (200 pounds) $2.00?total expense, $11.15. Take this from $29.28, and you have $18.13, which divided by 144 days leaves you $1.27 a day, and that is about all there is in it." These calculations, Mr. Lesslie informs the writer, were made about twenty-five years ago, but he holds that they are just as good now as they were then. If they are correct, and any intelligent farmer should be able to judge; a very stubborn proposition is quite clearly put: How can a man afford to buy wheat that he could get three dollars and forty cents a day for raising, with cotton that makes him only one dollar and twenty-seven cents a day ? Or one dollar and ninety cents corn with one dollar and twenty-seven cents cotton ? It doesn't look like it is so, does it? Maybe it is not, but if you will investigate you will find that it is those farmers who raise the respective crops in just about the relative proportion in which Mr. Lesslie estimates their value (except possibly reversing the order of wheat and corn) that have the best houses, finest stock and longest bank account. Note.?It is understood that the cost of cultivating an acre of land depends on the kind of crop to be raised, and whether a larger or smaller crop is gathered, thecostof making ia usually about the same. In making calculations like the above, the principal difficulty lies in an estimate of the basis of yield. This of course cannot bedetinitely fixed, but the figures in this calculation are close enough to show where the profit or loss lies. Making an Impress ion.?Just as last night was merging into Sunday morning three persons, two evidently from the country, the third, a city man, left the restaurant of the Astor House. "How much is the bill for our supper ?" asked the city man of the night clerk. "Twenty dollars," replied the clerk, and then poured out a glass of water for one of the countrvmen whom the price had made dizzy. "All right," said the city man, airily, "just charge it to my account and taking an arm of each of Ids companions he led them out. "Old customer of yours?" queried a bystander. "No," said the clerk, "I never saw or heard of him before to-night." "Well, is that the way you give credit ?" "That's a new way. The truth is, he wanted to make an impression on his two country friends and give them the idea that he stands well with everybody. Just before they finished supper he came to me and paid the bill, which was only six dollars and a half, and said that when he came down with the countrymen he would ask me how much he owed. 1 was to reply twenty dollars, and he, with a trrandilouuent air, was to instruct me to charge to his account, thereby creating his desired impression. See?" Italian workmen are, as a rule, not foiul of strikes; they usually resort to other means to get what they want. A company of Italian navvies engaged in the construction of a railway in Germany had their wages reduced. They said nothing, but during the night each of the men cut an inch off the end of his shovel. In reply to the engineer who took them to task about it, one of them said: "Not so much pay, no lift so much earth. So much longer last work. Italian 110 fool like German. Italian MERCHANT AND FARMER. A .V KKC17A NT REPLIES TO MR. Jr. II. EDWARDS 11V VINDICATION OF T1IK MRU CANTILE FR ORES SI ON. For the Yorkvllle Enquirer. . Editor of the Enquirer : Mr. W. Jr. Edwards, secretary of India Hook alliance, in his communication to The Cotton Plant, and republished in The Enquirer of the 11th instant, forgot that the world is a chain; one person dependent on the others. The merchant cannot exist without the farmer, nor the farmer without the merchant; and to say that the merchant has no interest but to accumulate money is very uncharitable, or snows 11 grent ueiu 01 luiiurantc. Yet the secretary said in reference to merchants: "It is 110 use to appeal to sentiment with men whose only object in life is to make money. These can only be reached through their pockets." What a high opinion of a statesman?one who wishes to represent all the interests of the different classes of voters! Certainly he does not know that when a church is to be built, a school-house to be erected, or when a house has been burned down, a mule or a horse lost, or any other calamity befalls the poor farmer, that the neighbors draw a petition, and the first step is to go to the public officers and especially to the merchants ; and to the credit of the York county merchants, the petitioner never has been disappointed; and when he comes back, and should there be a deficiency, after close calculation, he may get some help from the farmer. Yet he said: "It is no use to appeal to sentiment witn men wnose oniv object in life is to accumulate money. Let us look at the condition of the country twenty-five years back. We were all poor and needed help. Who started tne farmer in his struggles then? Was it not the merchant? With very little capital, what he had left, he went to market to invest to help the farmer. He not only risked his capital but also his reputation, which to a true merchant is dearer than money. The risk, the high prices for goods he then had to buy on credit, justified-him in making a profit accordingly. Now I ask, where are those money-making merchants in York? Let the accuser stand up and count them, and also those merchants who have lost everything, and he will find very few of the first mentioned and many on the other side. Permit me to show the other side. See how many farmers are now independent, when lien and mortgage were their capital in 1866, and you can count them by the hundreds. I am of the opinion that very few farmers will agree with the woujd-be legislator, and will accept commercial reports that out of ten merchants, one is successful. On the other side nine out of ten farmers succeed. Commerce regulates itself, and the consumer will buy where he finds the cheapest. I believe that if the farmer will buy at home on the same terms as he buys abroad, viz.: cash down, he can purchase as cheaply of the merchants in York, and many articles cheaper. Generally those who are buying for spot cash do not buy at home, but wlien they want credit they go to the home merchant and say "he am wait until we get a good price for our cotton"; or "I need a mule or horse to make a better crop next year. Wait till next crop." Poor, only money making, merchant, must meet his obligations to the hour. Sleepless nights are his reward; loss of health his future prospect. Does Mr. Edwards know that the mercnanra ui iumcuuiii^ pu^ unc* fourth of the taxes? Yet they never complain; they are most conservative; they do not mix themselves with politics; they have nothing to do with the March convention, leaving that to the demagogues who want to disturb the harmony of the Democratic party. The merchants even have only one or two repre- , sentatives in the State legislature. Farmers and lawyers make the laws for them. Yet the secretary said the alliance has nothing to do with 'K politics; but takes good care to give the March convention a good place in the picture. There may be some reasons. Some may want the support of the farmers. The writer is 110 candidate, and never will be, but ( he is a great friend to the farmers, because they are his friends. Let me say in full sincerity, have nothing to do with politics, beware of class legislation?it is the misfortune of South Carolina to have too much already. Select men to represent you in the legislature in whom you have confidence, and who are looking for the welfare of all. Beware of the demagogue, flatterer and grumbler; and last, but not least, attend closely to your business as the merchant does his store, and you will be prosperous and happy. Let well enough alone. S. S. 8., MERCHANT. CHAUNCEY DEPEW'S TUSSLE. In an address before the Railroad Branch of the Young Men's Christian association, ot New York, Hon. Chauncey M. I)epew gave an incident from his early life which carries a weighty lesson. Said he: "The best thing I remember connected with myself is, that when I graduated from Yale I thought I would lead a life of scholastic ease. I thought I would read and write a little, take it easy and have a good time. I had a hard-headed old father of sturdy Dutch ancestry. He had money enough to take care of me, and I knew it; and when he discovered that I knew it and intended to act accordingly, it was a cold day for me, and he said to me: 'You will never get a dollar from me except through my will. From this time forth you have got to make your own way.' "\v eu, i louna l naa a nara tot 01 it?nobody had a harder one?and the old gentleman stood by and let me tussle and fight it out. I bless him to-night with all the heart and gratitude I have for that. If he had taken the other course what would I have done ? I would have been up in Peekskill to-night nursing a stove, cursing the men who had succeeded in the world, and wondering by what exceptional luck they had got on; but having my way to dig alone, 1 got beyond everything my father ever dreamed of; but it was done by fourteen hours, or sixteen hours, or eighteen hours' work a day, if necessary. It was done by temperance and economy. "When you make a dollar spend seventy-five cents and put the other twenty-five cents by. No man can stand still. When God created us he did a fortunate thing for us; he made us so that we must either go backward or forward. A man knows more to-day than yesterday, or he knows less. A man who bottoms a chair, gets up and goes to his meals, and then goes back again and bottoms a chair, and then to his meals again, in the course of five years will be the biggest dunce in the community, and his opinion will not be worth knowing. He will lose his power*for work, and will not l>e worth three cents an hour." go?- "See this coat?" he queried as lie entered a Michigan avenue clothing store yesterday. " Yes; I see dot coat. Vhas something wrong?" "I should remark! See how it is all shrunk up!" "I see. How did she come?" "I got caught out in the rain." "Oxactly. Hid I sell you dot coat for water proof?" "Ho, but it hadn't ought to shrink up like this." "Dot may be, but suppose dot coat swell out und vhas so big dot she was worth $2 more?would you pay me extra?" "Of course not." "Oxactly. She vhas even. If she shrinks, you doan' blame me; if she swells, you doan' pay any any more. Please don't block oop j my shtore, my frent?dis vhas my A