Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, August 15, 1894, Image 1
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vdt, 4-0. yorkville, s. c., wednesday, august 15, 1894. no. 38.
THE OVER"
? -?
BY MARTHA McCUI
Copyright, 1891, by the American l'ress Assoc
CHAPTER L
"He's the gallantest old fellow. It
mukes me fairly heartsick to know his
case is hopeless."
Mr. Hildreth said it, looking with
oompassiouate eyes after his departing
client His partner, Major Vance, half
turned in his swivel chair, gave an ex- j
tra long pull at his pipe and said over i
the top of "Greenleaf on Evidence:" !
"Why let it be hopeless? Isn't it your
business and mine to persuade one very j
bad man or twelve good and true ones
that the right is always with our side?" j
"Certainly, but in this case I should i
have to persuade them to go against law
and fact in order to do what 1 believe to
1- - ??1-4. >> vr_ TT;l/)-?4V. mnfrinn
LW n^iiif ini? iiuiuutu oiiivtj uiuaiu^ 4
himself horizontal by putting his heels
upon his desk and tipping his chair as
far back as possible. Again Major Vance
spoke through his blue veil.
"Tell nic all about it. Your client
looked as though he came out of tho ark
Has ho got a claim for damages against
Noah et aL? Or is it a matter of line
fences?" i
"Neither. You must havo heard all
about it It's ono of our celebrated cases
?the Overton claim."
"What! Is that the man who has been
a legal gold mine these last 50 years?" ?
"The very same?Francis Overton,
Esq. No better blood in the state."
"Tell me about the claim. Of course
I've heard of it nebulously. I'd like to
know the story of it with circumstantial
exactness."
"It's a pitiful one, and my father al- |
ways insisted begun in a romance back
in Carolina. He knew both the Overtons
and Fauntleroys there. The heirs
of each house, it seems, fell in love with
the same young woman?an heiress and I
great belle?who preferred young Over- j
ton. If the other man swore vengeance
against his successful rival, .nobody ever
heard of it, but everybody knew that j
the warm friendship once existing be- j
tween the two families was utterly dead.
In fact, it was felt to bo a good thing
when, a few years after his wedding,
young Overton moved with all his belongings
to middle Tennessee.
"Here he prospered amazingly. Com- j
ing in when pretty well all the state lay
virgin, he bought half a county of the j
richest land at a price that was next to
nothing. Besides he got possession of
the best ore banks in tho state, and as
soon as he had got a fair sized plantation
open, set about building furnaces i
Ua woo nceaitfiolW a
tuiu UlOJUii^ 11UI1. XXV nuo voovuiiuiij U
man of big enterprises, one who did j
nothing on a small scale. Into this new
venture he put a deal of money?the
most of it, unluckily for him, not his
own. There were half a dozen blast furnaces,
a forge, a rolling mill, heaven
. knows what besides, but if the money
went out in a stream it looked to be
oertain that it would come in in a flood.
Indeed my father always maintained
that Mr. Overton went at least $50,000 i
in debt simply to oblige lenders who
forced their cash upon him. For three
years everything went welL No man ,
stood so high, was rated so happy. Then
came a sea of troubles. His "wife died?
his children, all save one, the eldest boy
?my client of today. Before people
were done talking over their funerals
there was a bigger sensation. Peyton
Fauntleroy's attorney had come out from
North Carolina and laid claim to all the
iron land in Mr. Overton's possession.
Though he laughed the claim to scorn,
it made a fine how-d'ye-do among partners
and creditors. They clamored for
an explanation. He answered by buying
out or paying each one in full, though
to do it stripped him of everything but
the property in dispute. That was a fortune
if he held it. At the trial people
waited on tiptoe for the outcome of it
alL He came into court mighty sorrowful
looking, but no whit downcast.
Indeed he had hardly thought it worth
while to employ a lawyer, but as my fa
ther naci semea 111s orner unairs iur
him he said to him. 'George, please
look after this little matter.'
"But my father would never take a
fee for that day's work; said he didn't
earn it Fauntleroy's man got up first
and said that his client claimed the laud
under government entry at such a date,
to be established by parents and receipts
for purchase money. Mr. Overton hardly
waited for his last word before he
stood up, saying to the judge as though
the whole thing bored him, 'If your
honor will look at those papers, you
will find that my entry of the same laud
was just two years earlier.'
"'H?in," said the judge. 'You
must make your statement on oath.'
While Mr. Overton was being sworn his
honor fumbled with the papers, but
didn't look at them. The other man
passed up his documents. You might
have heard yourself think while the
judge was turning them over. The
crowd could see that they looked official
?on government forms, with big red j
seals. When he undid the Overton
packet, everybody gave a gasp. It was
nothing but blank paper. Mr. Overton
stood like a dead man for a minute,
then sprang facing the judge, and shout- I
odout: 'The records?search the records.
I know my doeds are there!'
"Most likely they were there, but the
book was missing?has been from that
day to this. Of course, though, there was
^ nothing for it but to give judgment for
Fauntleroy. But when court was over, as
my father was helping Mr. Overton
from the room, the judge came to them
and said: 'I know it's your land. sir. ,
Appeal, appeal, and by the Eternal I
will help you to get justice." '
"That broke Mr. Overton all up. He !
choked and said gaspingly: 'The fight
will go on, sir, so long as Overtoil blood
runs in any creature's veins. I have got
just one boy left. Better, much better
see him dead than to know he would let
it be said his father had been proved a
scoundrelly land thief.'
"'They never shall say it, father,'
young Frank cried out. The old man
reached out a hand to him, staggered,
fell, was dead before they could lay him
straight oil the grass in the courthouse
yard. Kneeling beside the corpse, the lad
?he was just turned 17?swore to
avenge and vindicate the dead man if it
took all his life. Though of all his father's
fortune there was not enough left
to bury him, the son was not badly off.
His mother's money was held in trust
for him, and there was more to come
from a rich bachelor grcatuncle.
"The Overton claim has swallowed
nearly all of it, for, you see, these
things came to pass more than 50 years
ago, before you and I were born.
Through all these years the tight lues
been kept up. The absence of the records
has made that possible. Lacking them,
neither claimant can perfect his title to
this great property. Fauntlerov got possession
under bond after the first decree,
but it profited him next to nothing. He
lacked money to develop it, and nobody
liad faith enough in him or his cast* to
risk a dollar in his hands.
"Francis Overton swears to this day
that the night before his father's death
he?the son?read over deeds to all the
iron land, duly attested as of record in
the missing volume. By what treachery
they were abstracted and blank forms
left in their place nobody can even imagine,
always supposing that such a
thing did occur, which I, for one, devoutly
believe. But few folk agree with
me. Some of the overgood even sigh and
lift their eyes, intimating that the elder
OvM-inn was 'strnek down' for false
swearing, as well as that some things in
the life of his sou are 'a judgment' for
the assertion of an unjust claim.
TON CLAIM.1
jLOCII WILLIAMS.
intion.
ft. I
Kneeling beside the corpse, the Iml swore
to avenge and vindicate the dead man.
"To mo lie is tlic mast lioroic, the
most pathetic figure I ever knew. This
struggle to set his father right has risen
from a duty to a religion?one, too,
which, unlike most religions, comes before
everything, anything else.''
"Yet you say his case is hopeless?"
"Quite, save in two most impossible
contingencies."
"What are they?"
"He must find the missing volume of
records or the man who made away
with them and with his father's deeds."
CHAPTER IL
Seventy years, full of trouble though
they were, sat lightly on Francis Overton.
He walked away from liia^ 'or
with a masterful step, though <ad
drooped a little, and his eyes wore full
of speculation?so full indeed that he
took no note of two other men, who looked
hard at him from an adjacent street
corner.
When he had vaulted upon his tall
black horse and gone away at a swinging
lope, ono said low to the other:
"That's your man. Tough old nut,
isn't he, to be riding that gait at rising
70?"
Tho speaker was an elderly man,
smug faced, though not quite ill look- '
ing, with narrow, light eyes; a square
jaw and close clipped bullet head; well ;
dressed, well groomed, yet giving withal
some suggestion of underbreeding.
The other was taller by a half head,
lithe, slim, with an oval face tanned to j
healthy brown and lit by two clear, convincing
gray eyes. Every line, every mo- '
tion told of strength and suppleness, the
muscular perfectness of the early twenties.
His hair, just long enough to show
a hint of ripple, was of the warm brown
that catches gold of the sun, the same
sun which had burned to an ashen shade
the drooping mustache that hid a firm,
well cut mouth.
Altogether you would go far before
seeing a better specimen of the genus
gentleman. He looked intently after the
vanishing figure, and as it was lost to
view said, "Hawkins, I like his looks, so
much so indeed that I have three parts
of a great mind to give up the whole !
thing."
A lightning scowl drew together ;
Hawkins' brows, but he was wise enough
to mask it and say interrogatively;
"What? I didn't quite catch what you
said."
For a minute tho other was silent. ,
Then he said, not loud, but dropping his
words with the precision of a plummet: j
"That old man is honor personified. So
much his face proclaims. There must be
much more than I have been taught to
believe in this claim to whose upholding !
he has sacrificed so much. "
"Oh, nobody ever said a word against I
him. No doubt he believes all he says;
took his father's word for gospel truth. !
Clearly he is a victim of circumstances
and his own bull headedness. That's
why we, our side, thought of this compromise.
'' Hawkins returned hurriedly,
jumbling one word on another as if to
prevent further speech of his comrade.
The younger man looked at him hard
as he asked, "On your honor, now, do
you believe a compromise possible?"
The other broke out with impatience
that ho tried vainly to smother in suavity:
"That's just what I can't say?what
we want to find out. See here, F j
nayvooil, you Can I uicuu iu yu uuvn. mi
us now. Think for a minute what it !
means, where we stand Here's one side
?an English syndicate just aching to '
invest $1,000,000; the other, the finest
iron property in the world, at which
they will jump, once the title is abso"That's
your man. Tuwjh aid nut, inn't
he, to be rldiiuj that ijuit ut rishuj Tdi"'
lutely clear. Then; is no reasonable
doubt whom it really belongs to. Spite of
50 years of suits in all sorts of courts,
Fauntleroy possession litis not l>ccn overturned
''
"You forget there have been lapses,
quite enough to give the other side a
fighting chance."
"No, I don't forget. Reduced to its
lowest terms, the case stands thus: Overton
has no possible chance of winning
the property. All he can do is to play
dog in the manger and keep the rightful
heirs of it from getting full K nelit of it. (
Now, it seems to me, regard for him, if
nothing else, ought to make you anxious
that he shall be properly approached, the
case stated fairly to him and an effort
made to convince him of the error of his
ways. You were willing enough"
"Before I saw him or the land in dispute,
yes. Now I put myself in his
place, try to think how I would feel if,
after all of these years of struggle, a
man came to me, saying in effect: 'Sir,
your father was a thief and a scoundrel.
All the same, your persistent denial of
it keeps me out of a fortune. If you will
agree to admit it and thereby put $1,000,000
in my pocket, I will see to it
that it is made worth your while.' I
think, Hawkins, I should kick the messenger
very hard, all the harder if ho
rtuig in anything about regard for my
own interest."
"Then you won't go to him?"
"Not as you proposed, under an alias.
But openly, in face of daylight, giving
my own name, I mean to see Major Overton,
and see also if there can possibly l>e
found an honorable way out of all this
evil."
Hawkins fell back a step, with eyes
of amazed fury. After a minute he said,
with a slowly whitening face: "You
?will?go?to him?in ? your ? own
name? Young man, you are?worse than
a lunatic. He would murder you at the
sound of it."
"I think not. He has not the assassin's
face. Do you know where lie lives?
I want to do him the honor of seeking
him in his own home."
"Woi.Td you really risk it?" Hawkins
spoke in an awed whisper. The other
laughed a little, saying: "Why not? I 1
call but fail. If I do, it will be failure !
between gentlemen, which, while it may
be unpleasant, surely cannot be dangerous.
"
Hawkins' eyes dropped; his face grew
hard. He half turned away, saying over
his shoulder: "Oh, well, do as you like.
Ridgeley, the Overton place, lies about
10 miles out of town, 011 the Blackwood
road. But you are not sure of finding
the major at home except at breakfast.
So I adviso you to go early, if you will
in spite of ma "
"Go I must and soon," the other said,
walking away.
Hawkins looked after him and muttered
under his breath: "Him?of all ;
the men in the world He cannot know
?not half a dozen do?all that lies tin- i
der the surface of the Overton claim." j
CHAPTER IIL
"Black Mammy, I want to go get !
some blackberries."
"Lis'en at dat now, will yo'? Miss
Dare, didn't yo' hear ole marster tole mo
not ter let yo' outen my sight twell ho
came home, an here you wantin ter go
strayin off by yo'sef lik' yo' wus somo |
po' white trash."
"You can come, too, though I ain't
afraid "
"I cain't dat; got ter spin my stockin
yarn dis mornin while hit's cool. Wait
twell de eveniu; den I'll sen Suse ter
fotch yo' mo' blackberries, an yo' kin
shake a stick at. "
"I don't like waiting."
"Is yo' gwine anyway spite er me?"
"Not in spite, but I am going. Spin j
away, mammy. I'll never tell grandfather;
you needn't either."
"Ef go yo' will, I got ter, but you is
the ill convenieutcst gal, hungry for
blackberries wid horse apples des mcller
as dey can bo layin right yer under yo'
nosa I don' min de goin so much, but
I does hate ter see yo', er Overton, act- I
in like er po' white. All dem lives in le j
brier patch, dis time er year, des same I
as do was rabbits."
Dare Overton laughed aloud, then ran
down the piazza stens, calling ns she
* .
lF7icrc all the fence was one mat of laden
vines.
went: "Music! Damsel! Here, here!" '
At sound of their names a couple of :
foxhounds, lank, lithe, many spotted, |
got up from the glass, where they lay j
panting and snapping at the flies, and i
ran away to their young mistress, who i
stood beside the yard gate, waiting Black j
Mammy's slow approach
She fitted well into the joyful summer
morning. Her clean pink calico !
frock fell away from a round white j
tliroat, whoso promise was repeated in j
the wrists revealed by loose sleeves, fulfilled
in the rose and ivory of her face.
One bare hand lifted the pink skirts high '
enough to show two small proud step- '
ping feet in quaint buckled shoes. The
other held a small basket woven of fino !
white oak splints. A mop of yellowy
hair showed under a big palm hat.
Brows a trifle darker arched over deep
Vilnn onic tliwow fnll nf moiTY mis
chief as the fat (lark figure waddled
slowly toward the gate.
"Own up now, mammy; you wanted 1 .
to go as had as I did or Music or Dam- i ;
sel," Dare said, with a dimpling smile.
"I never," retorted Black Mammy, j j
drawing down the corners of her mouth
in a vain effort to keep up a semblance
of her grievance. "I dunnowliut things j
is er comin ter. My po' fut's got ter suffer
wid de rumatics, I reckon. Pearlik'
I ain't never gwine git de time ter spin ; i
dat yarn. Twix' yo' projeckin an ole | i
marster's po' ole Dincy ha' ter be i
spryer'n a hopper grass, den cain't do
everything." , ;
Dare laughed outright, crying out:
"Mammy, mammy, what libs you do
tell! You've got 10 pairs of good yarn
stockings now. I counted them last time
you opened your chest, and then you beg
me to knit more for you. I won't un- 1
less you give away at least half you've
got." I
"Come 'long if yo're comin, " mammy i
said, pushing open the heavy gate, i
Then, as Dare passed through it: i
"Whar is yo' head sot for? De ole fiel
er dem big fellers?des er lmstin wid
sweet juice?wliut grows de yother side
de creek bottom fiel?"
"The creek, of course. It's shady
there. The sun has not got over the hilltop
yet," Dare said, running down a
mirrow woodland footpath. The two
dogs plunged ahead, running out now
and then in leaping circles through the
shaded depths on either hand. The slope
was long and gentle. It was a full mile
before they came to the creek, now a
thread of bright water slipping with
summer whispers over the smooth, clean,
pebbly bed. The eddy round the root of
a big sycamore made a small shining
pool, beside which Dare stopped a minute
to look at herself. Black Mammy
laid a heavy hand on her arm.
"Come away, chile. Bad luck come
soon enough, widout stoppin ter conjure
hit up, lookin at yo'sef in runnin water.
I spec we gwine git wet anyway
'fore we sees home agin. 'Tain't no ,
(lew liardlv on do bushes dis morimi, an
pears tor me lik* I lieen hearin hit thun- {
(lor over senco we started. "
Thus.adjured, Lave ran lightly over '
the stepping stones and on to the cornfield
opposite, where all the fence was ,
one mat of laden vines. Very shortly tlio |
baskets overran, though the pickers took i
only the choicest fair fruit. Dare held
up a rieli cluster and said, with the een- | |
tral berry between her lips:
"Ain't you glad you came, mammy?
This is ever so much nicer than even i
spinning on the piazza. " ' j
"I ain't gwine say twell we git home ;
agin. Time enough ter crow when you
know ye ain't gwine ter cry," mammy
said sententiously. Then as an unmis- ]
takable thunder peal came down the valley:
"Lis'en at dat. Rain'll ketch us
sho' fo' ever we gits tor de house."
"Not if we walk fast and take the
near way up the hollow, "Dare said,
looking doubtingly at the sky, whence
an inky wall was rising out of the southwest.
Black Mammy gave a groan.
"I knowed better'n to be here. Why j
didn't I do better?'' she said, puffing after i
her young mistress, whoso skimming
motion had already put her well ahead.
To reach the near cut they had to go
down the creek almost to the place
where the Blackwood road ran across
it. They had passed the stream perhaps
50 yards and were toiling over
a narrow bottom into which the hollow
expanded when Dare stopped short, :
flung up her head and cried in a startled
voice, "Mammy, mammy, what
can that be?"
"D-d-dc?d-d-debble, I re-reckon,"
mammy said, with chattering teeth, for ,
a Willi, ruii 111 VlJIMj, VUI..V v.ground,
apparently at their very feet. I ,
CHAPTER IV.
Hare held lip a warning liand and I ,
said after a minute of listening: "No;
it's somebody in trouble. I hear them
calling 'Help! Help!' but it does sound
curious. Where 011 earth can it come
from?"
"Come 'way, honey, do! 'Tis de debble,
I tell yo'. He so 'nteful?des doin dat
ter foolyo', make yo' sorry for him and
wait so he kin ketch yo'. Run quick. Oh
T J_ ? TT? .1 It ..... ,1
JjUruy 1 X1U UU11U MIK-II U>, un niiu H>|
hollcriu worse'n or 2-year-old bull.
Dare, yon Dare, my chile, como 'way
f'm dar, I tell 3*0'."
Black Mammy shrieked as Dare ran
swiftly forward, stopped abruptly and
looked intently into something at her
feet. I11 a minute she called: "Mammy,
come here, quick! Some 011c has fallen
into the big sinkhole. We must get him
out l>efore it rains, or he will drown."
"Take keer. Don't you fall in, too,"
mammy shouted, waddling up at her
best speed. Dare indeed knelt perilously
near the verge of the earthen pit, up
whoso smooth, straight, crumbling sides
its occupant had been vainly (lying to
climb, despite the drawback of a badly
sprained arm. At sight of Dare I10
said fervently: "Thank the Lord! I
shall not have to die in this hole, after
all."
"How came 3*0' dar?" asked mammy !
suspiciously.
Spite of his ill condition the prison "r
answered, laughing: "Because of a pig,
auntie. I was riding along the road
there just after daylight, not dreaming
of such a pitfall close at hand. All at
once master pigg3* got up from his puddle
at the roadside. My horse shied violently
this wa3*, stumbled, broke the
girth and pitched me and my saddle to
this depth, from which I had begun to
fear I should never escape.''
"Dat dar place des broke in las' week.
'Twould er bin fenced an kivercd ef
master had knowed hitwusdar; but, po'
man, he got so much 011 his min. But
say, mister gentleman, 3-0' mas' come
out er dar cr be washed out. Rain er 1
comin. When hit do come, dis yere sinkhole
runs cr ribber."
"Only tell mo how I can."
"Lcmme see. Is you hurt bad?"
"Only my arm. Otherwise I think I ;
could have managed to scramble out."
The problem of rescue was 110 easy
one. There was not a house witlnn a
mile of the spot?110 place indeed where
help could certainly be got. And the
storm was coming on so fast that long
ere aid could be summoned the earthy
cavern would be flooded, for sharp hills :
drained into it, from which the heavy !
rainfall would run at racing speed. Tho
pit was about four feet across at tho top, i
widening to Ave at tho bottom, where |
the mellow top soil still lay in testi- j
mony to the freshness of the caveiu. If i
it stood for a year, clay would settle 011
and around it till it took 011 a funnel j
shape, from which escaiie would bo 1
more than easy. In its present estate it j
was as awkward a trap its even good in- '
teution ever led a young fellow into.
Dare looked into it to say: "Wewill j
get you out somehow. Don't be uneasy.
"
What wonder if to its prisoner sho j
seemed a very angel of deliverance, !
though there was nothing the least angelic
in what she set about doing.
Wherever mammy went her pocket held
always a barlow knife. By help of it 1
her checked cotton apron and striped j
liusey petticoat were cut into strips, then j
twisted into a roi>c long enough to I
reach quite to the bottom of tho cavern.
By knotting threo or four stout sticks ;
crosswise in it and making the upper 1
end fast to a fencorail laid at the top :
it gave the stranger the foothold he had '
so vainly sought and brought him safely
out of the miry pit.
As Black Mammy brushed the earth
from his sleeve sho said, nodding toward
Dare: "Hit beats me how she
thuuk erbout dat dar easy way. I wus
studying 'bout makin yo' ketch holt or j
pole, an den me ba'rin down t'other
end an fetch yo' up daterway; but, i
s'posin de pole had er bruk, we'd er been j
in a bad box sho'. "
"We certainly would," the stranger
said, laughing, though his lips got white
at an inadvertent touch. "I can never '
be grateful enough to both of you. "
"We did nothing," Dare said? I
nothing that is worth a mention.
Now, sir, as you seem a stranger and
are not veiy well, may I not jisk you to
go home with us? My grandfather is j
away, but we can give you rest and shelter."
"Ah, you are"
"Dare Overton. And you?"
"I??b?my name is?Haywood?
Allen Haywood?at your sen-ice. Miss !
Overton, my whole life will not be long
enough to thank you for coming this
way today."
"The rain sent me," Dare said, with I
a little smile.
"It was rain from heaven for me,"
young Haywood answered, so low that
Black Mammy did not catch the words.
Notwithstanding she watched him
narrowly as she paced homeward
through pelting rain at the young couple's
heels. Soon as they were indoors
die sent Dare to her own room and set
about finding diy clothes for the man so
oddly thrown 011 their hospitality. Evidently
something had disturbed iier.
tjyl
, " ?
. *
"l?oh?my name is?Haywood?Allen
Haywood?at your service."
"He talk fa'ar an squar, but I don't
lik' de favor of him," she muttered
under her breath as she went to and fro.
A. little later in Dare's own chamber sho
opened vials of wrath, saying as sho
stood an ebon statue of outraged family
pride:
"What you spec' I'm gwine tell marster
'bout dis yere caper? Reckon it
gwine please him ter hear er his gran'eliile
traspsein round arter blackberries
lik' dee warn't no nigger could go
' - - 1 - --1.
pernor mil ior or, an uen 1111 uni nmnholes
full or strange mans an fotchin I
uni here lik' wo didn't hab trouble
unougli all ready tor our bauds. Like as
not mastor'll sav yo' done cdoau forgot
vou wus born it Overton?hit do 'pear
like dat tor nio?an if do Lord hissolf
knows wliut yo' gwine do nox' I wish't
lio'd send word. Vo' done clean beyond
me." i
"I'll save hiiu and you the trouble, " .
Dare said, with her dimpling smile,
"for in strict confidence I mean to make
a sling for Mr. Haywood's arm, now j
that you have wrapped it in vinegar and j
brown paper."
"H-ni-ni! No need or dat. Ef ho
got do sense he orter been born wid, he'll
stay dar in dat bed twell marster come J
home. Den let him sen 'iin back tor j
town whar he come from. He'll think
vo' metty forrard ef yo' set up ter re- |
tain 'im lik' he wus yo' bean."
"I don't think he will," said Dare indefinitely.
"Will whut?"
".Stay in bed, or anything. "
She was right. Allen Haywood did
nothing of the sort.
CHAPTER V.
The liou.se at Ridgeley was square, i
solid, sparely furnished and scrupulously
clean. A tall narrow portico shadowed
the front door. At the back the roof
hung over to form a generous shed piazza,
upon which, at the west end, tho
overhanging cable of the log kitchen
1
"Let me bathe It," nhc said.
abutted. All the fair weather through
this south looking piazza served as a
dining room as well as lounging place.
The day whereon fate thrust Allen Haywood
upon Ridgeley hospitality gusty
sheets of rain drove all across the floor,
so Black Mammy was fain to fling wide
the shutters of the big square room lying
to the right of the front door. Somehow
she felt a curious reluctance to do so.
"Hit fa'arly gimme de creeps, hit do
now," sho muttered, rubbing away at
the big mahogany table she had rolled
to the room's middle. "Maybe hit's all
right. Dat dar man jest ornery stranger,
but de hcabonly marster knows I don't
lik' do favor of 'im. Do' 'ant tor see 'im
er settin ycrc in dis yero room opposite
Dare, an nobody else but des dem two.
Hit's too lik dat yother time. Wish't ter
Lord ole marstor wus here, but do way
hit's er rainin now we 'on't see him
'fore termorrcr. Dat dar creek is past
fordin now, an sho' as I'm Diney ho
went 'crost hit dis momin, 'case I hear
him ax Jubilee 'bout do nigh cut tu do
Bilin Spring neighborhood, whar ole
Aunt Jinccy live. Uster be house gal
here, she did. Wonder if she knows anything
olo marstcr wanter fin out? Sho
so ole, inos' er hunderd, dee tells me.
I s'pec she won't remember him, but 1
don't know, she big conjure 'omaii,
she is, an no tellin what dec do, dec so
queer."
"Whoiireyou talking to, mammy?"
Dare asked, stopping short in the door,
a picturo of rosy, excited eagerness.
Without waiting for an answer she darted
at the old woman, snatched the cloth
from her hand and said coaxingly: '
"I'll do that, mammy, and set the
table too. You go out in the kitchen and
see?help Susy, I mean. You know nobody
else can cook like you, and I want
a real nice dinner, the best yon can possibly
get."
"Umph! Wliut reason yo' so bad off
'bout hit?"
"Oh. because we have company,
strange company, too, somebody who lias
seen a heap of the world, though that
does not make a difference. You know
how careful grandfather always is about
strangers, and really Mr. Haywood"?
"Is dat his slio' 'nough name?"
"What a question, mammy! It's the
one he gave us. You heard him."
' 'I did dat. I seen him, too, an hit
pears lik' ter me he didn't say it right
easy, straight up an down. Dee wus sorter
hitch 'fore hit come out. 'Sides he
don't favor his name. I knowed plenty
Haywoods back in Car'liny."
"Who does lie favor?"
"Don't ax me, chile. I ain't got time
ter bodder fiu'iu out who all he look lik'.
Yo' go on back an retain him dar in do
parlor room. Ne'er min 'bout de dinner.
I lay he be too busy lookin at yo' in dat
dar white frock, wid dem roses in yo'
belt an yo' lia'r, to know whcdder lie's
er swallerin fried chicken er meat an
snaps. 'Sides I don put on all sorts er
thin's, an that dat fool Susocain't spile
um if she try."
Dare's face grew rosier than ever, but
slio said, with an attempt at dignity:
"You mustn't say such things, nianimy.
You know very well that I?that he?
oh, pshaw, I forget. I came to ask you
to open the press and see if grandfather
had any arnica."
"Fin out fer yo'self," nianimy said
majestically, flinging wide the doors of
a tall secretary, black with age. "Yo'
kin read de name 011 dem dar doctor's
rlof /lov "MV TT'lVWruvl f.Mnlr
ho know better'n I docs wlmt good for
cr sprained wis', why, jes' let 'im go
long 'bout fixin hit. I ain't po' tor doctor
'im, God knows!"
'Yes, you are, mammy. You know
you dote on sick people, but this is my
doing. His arm pains him dreadfully. I
know it by the whiteness of his lips, and
I read the other day"
"Oh, yes, yo' 'read!' Muchdemnewspapers
knows 'bout hurted folks. Go on
erway, chile. Nebber seed no good come
yit outen foolin wid doctor's truck. Des
soon as dinner's ober I gwinc make 'im
er tansy sweat fer dat arm."
"No, this will do," Dare said, running
off with a tall bottle. Mammy
looked after her anxiously, shook her
head and went on laying tho table for
two, stopping now and again to give a
groaning sigh and mutter something
that soiuidcd like "rack an ruin."
If her eyes could liavo pierced walls,
she would have been even more rueful.
In the parlor across the hall young Haywood
lay at length upon the old fashioned
sofa, his drawn, set face alone proclaiming
what ho suffered Dare knelt
at his side, carefully unbinding the
bruised and swollen arm, at sight of
which she gave a little involuntary cry.
"Let me batho it," she said, fetching
a basin of fresh water. A minute later
ease seemed to trickle from her slim,
soft fingers. The stranger looked at her
with grateful eyes, saying: "How delicious!
If it could but bust, I would go
straight to sleep."
"Try to," said Dare. "It is the l>cst
thing that could possibly happen to
you," as she spoke propping his elbow
with a pillow and supporting the hurt
arm with her hand. Hit touch brought
a quick light into the young fellow's
eyes. He looked straight at her and said:
"Would you really stay there on your
knees a whole 10 minutes for me?"
The girl put down the hand she held
very gently, got to her feet and said,
with (hopped eves: "I would do it for
anybody who was suffering, but no doubt
T hn/l hatter hind vourarm in arnica and
leavo you alone until dinner is ready.
Maybe you will catch a nap anyway."
Young Haywood sat instantly upright,
saying anxiously, "Indeed, Miss Overton,
I hope I have not offended you?"
Dave shook her head. "No,'' she said,
"but you will offend nie very deeply if
you do not at once lie down and make
yourself as comfortable as possible."
With a merry feint of terrified obedience,
the stranger stretched again on the
couch. Dare threw a light gray blanket
over him and bent to slip a fresh cushion
under his arm. As she leaned lightly
above him a voice from the door said:
"Dare, what does all this mean?"
Turning, she faced her grandfather, his
eyes blazing, his mouth blue white and
working as she had seen it but once liefore
in all her young life.
CHAPTER VL
Well might Francis Overtoil stand
nghxst at a sight so unexpected, so unwelcome.
Already the day had brought
him weird and thrilling experience. It
all came back to liini now with double
force. Through the earliest morning lie
had ridden fast, picking his way along
bridle paths through overgrown neglected
byways to tin; conjure woman's
cabin. Why he could not have put in
words had life depended 011 it. For days 1
the feeling had been growing upon him
?vague, intuitive, expectant. Jincey,
onco his father's slave, years older than
himself, was a living link with that
fated, fateful past. Her own race ranked
her at onco seer and sorceress. Further, !
her master's son knew experimentally I
that her magic was not wholly matter |
of fable. He remembered but too wen
how in the old days the strongest arm in
the plantation had withered at her curse;
oven better, the sidelong downcast look
with which, after freedom came, she had
approached him, saying, "Marso Frank,
I?I?gwine leave yo'?fur yo' own
good, unnerstan."
I Ho could not," if ho would, forget the
unctuous satisfaction underlying tho
' seemingly humble words. Then he did
not stop to think what it might mean,
rent and torn as his mind was with tho
i blows and buffctings of fate. As time
brought calmness and clarity to his men;
tal atmosphere, ho had begun to piece
1 together many shreds of his misfortunes
i and so in a measure judge the stuff
whereof tlicy were spun.
! Throughout tho process tho feeling
had grown aud strengthened that this
| weazened creature, so brown, so bent, so
soft of voice and downcast of eye, held
in her hands more than 0110 clew, worth
to him far more than life. Indeed life
meant to this bravo gentleman but a
| weary battle, whero defeat was shame,
j victory only death with honor.
Fato had so nearly stripped him of
human feelings, of human ties, Thero
was only Dare, a slip of a girl, who
would marry away from the Overton
i name, who would forget in her frocks,
her babies, her husband, all the story,
tho 'wrong, the tragedy of her race,
| From the outset she was among his disappointments.
He had so hoped for a
grandson that this puling girl seemed a
sorry jest of fate?all the more when
within a year of her birth she was left
j wholly orphaned If her father had but
lived, if that other? Brave as lie was,
j Francis Overton dared not trust himself
! to think of or remember tho valley of tho
shadow from which his soul had come
out so cruelly scared
Strong in this nameless, formless impulse,
ho had drawn rein at Jiiicoy's
| cabin when tho sun was an hour high.
It sat under the lee of a sharp hill, whoso
shadow fell heavily about it A brindled
; starveling dog lay on the step before the
single door. Its shutter stood fairly ajar,
giving a long glimpse of the dusk interior,
where a firo of roots smoldered in
tho big fireplace, their burning filling
all the place with a dnnk, pungent smell
The mongrel lay voiceless, motionless,
watching tho newcomer with fierce,
beady eyes. It was but a starveling atom
of skin and bone, hnrdly able by the look
of it to upbear tho chain which was fastened
at one end to its collar, at tho other
to a staple driven in tho long wall.
Major Overton looked at it compassionately.
He knew that the gaunt creaj
ture was no reflex of poverty within, but
a victim to tho belief among the class of
its mistress that only a hungry dog is a
trusty guard As he set foot upon the
threshold, rapping loudly 011 the batten,
tho cur, with a quick, stealthy motion,
made as if to set his teeth in his leg.
1 Instead of kicking or striking it, Major
; Overton turned and looked steadily at
j it until it slunk out of sight under the
house.
Before he turned away his eyes a soft,
cracked laugh at his elbow made him
start Jincev had flung wide tho door
and stood peering at him from under her
i hand and saying:
"Marso Frank, won't yo' nebber learn
ter kick dogs in time?
The covert significance of the query
was lost upon her visitor, or if he heeded
it, lie gave no sign. Stepping within, he
fixed a firm regard upon the old woman
and said very low:
"Jincey, do you know why I have
conic here? I confess that I cannot say.''
Again Jincey laughed. This time
j thero was a hint of triumph in it. A
1 sudden flame 011 the hearth lit up the
; low, grimy interior, the gun upon the
i wall, the swinging rack heaped with
i skins and garments, the big plump bed,
! with its white pillows and "rising sun"
coverlid, the hide bottomed chairs, the
row of chests against the wall, the table
at one side spread with an untouched
1 breakfast, Jincey herself, with her thatch
; of snow white wool, her keen, down lid|
ded eyes, her small fingered, skinny
1 hands.
She held both before her, as in deprecation,
and said slowly, as if in deep
meditation: "Maybe it's because I'm
i most dead. You couldn't be let wait
any longer."
| There was so little of African accent
or idiom in her speech as to proclaim
that sho had been in her youth more
| with white people than with the black.
There was, too, a curious similarity of
intonation to the voice of her visitor. A
quick ear would easily perceive that
their speech had been molded after much
the same model. Major Overton shivcrj
ed slightly as she spoke and said, dropping
into the nearest chair, "Mother's
been dead more than 50 years, Jincey,
j but you've got her accent as pat as the
day she died."
| "I don't change?in some things,"
| the black woman said, moving toward
j the fire and steadying herself against one
of the huge rock jambs. Major Overton
I got up and stood facing iier, eying nor
keenly as she slowly fingered the rosary
i of keys at her girdle.
Upon one of tlieni?a small dull bit of
brass?her hand paused with a slow, sensitive
clutch, then moved defiantly 011 to
the copper, the steel, the iron, that made
up the tale. But not 011c of them was so
odd, had such wards as the brass one,
though it was strangely familiar to
Major Overton's eye. He held out his
hand for it, saying carelessly, "Let me
sco that, Jincey, that brass key there."
Without a word she laid it in his
palm. He saw the duplicate of the key
which had locked in his father's deeds
in that faraway night, so sorrowfully
well remembered.
"What does this unlock?" he asked,
his eyes full 011 the old, old face. Jincey
answered, as though dreaming.
"Better ask them that know. I
don't."
"How came you by it, then?"
"I ? found it ? in the road?last
year."
"Jincey, we are too old for lying. Tell
me how long you have had this key. "
"Why do you want to know?"
"You know without telling. It was by
help of that key our deeds were stolen?
my father murdered.''
"Master?master was a good man, too
good to die," the old woman said, staring
straight before her with fixed, glassy
eyes. Suddenly her form grew rigid, she
threw a hand above her head and said in
a hoarse whisper, punctuated by gasps:
"Go away, master; go away! You are
dead, dead! I never touched your papers.
"
Major Overton took her hand in a hard
grasp and said close to her ear:
"Who took them, Jincey?"
No answer. The rigid figure tottered,
would have fallen but for his support.
Suddenly it slid out of his hands to a
writhing heap at his feet, and out of it
"Overton claim! The end Is coming."
a smothered voice cried, with still the
noto of mockery: "Overton claim! The
end is coining, coming through a woman
whose weakness is stronger than
your strength."
What wonder, then, that his face
blanched at sight of the 011c woman who
owned Overton blood thus in proximity
to a young man unheard of, undreamed
of before?
Whatever makes men good ('hristians
makes them good citizens.?Daniel
Webster.
fifcaT When some men get religion the
very next bone they give to their dogs
1 will have more meat 011 it.
SNiscrUancous ^tailing. 1
BRAINS AM BRAWN, I
They Make a Strong Team
Any ami Everywhere.
W. A. BARRON TALKS INTERESTINGLY.
A ltiuliel of I'cuh Worth u Sack of (iuano?
How to RritiK tip Poor Land?To En..
..r m.i Ciiuii.
lotted Way of Cultivating Iiluli l'ota- '
tot'M lit the Heat.
Mr. William A. Barron, of India
Hook, Ebenezer township, is one of i
the most energetic and progressive
farmers in York county. His plantai
tiou is in Ebenezer township, and his i
residence is located on the Neely's ,
Kerry road, at the nearest point about
a quarter of a mile from Catawba riv- !
er. Passers by his home are sure to
he impressed with the surroundings.
The "big house" is a neatly painted old
fashioned country seat, surrounded by
beautiful shrubbery, and the outside I
generally is suggestive of the good j
cheer and unbounded hospitality which j
everybody knows prevails within.
Barns, stables, corncribs, and numerous
other outbuildings, look as if they
have been constructed not only for the
benefit of the present generation, but {
for the next as well: and a splendid 1
saw mill and ginnery near by, indicates
that work not only continues on wet '
days and through laying-by-time, hut
goes on through the winter also.
PUSH AND KNKRUY.
Mr. Barron, the proprietor of the
' establishment, is a sun-burned, wiry, |
medium-size man, about (10 years of
age. His neighbors say that he has !
as much energy as the engine that j
drives his sawmill, and is almost as tireless.
This, of course, is not literally ;
true ; but it is as nearly so as can be said j
of any other man in the county. He i
works early and late, with hand and
mind, keeps things stirring perpetually, ;
and is generally happy in proportion to
'< - 1 ...? -1- in,mmliolo '
II1C liir^i; UIIIUUIU ui nuiiv 111 IIUIUV.UI1I1U
sight. If people stay around him they '
have to work. He thinks that is what
they were made lor, and he considers
most amusements, except at proper j
places and on proper occasions, idle j
waste of time. "The time that some
people waste on Saturday afternoons," i
he says, "is what brings them out in
debt at the end of the year.
ONE SECRET OF SUCCESS.
Such is Mr. Barron ; hut that is not J
all of hi nr. The other half is no less j
interesting. Mrs. Barron is a most esti- j
mable lady. Embodying, as she does,
all the natural womanly graces, and ;
with education and refinement equal ;
to any station in life, she presides over
her household in a manner that leaves i
no room for doubt that she is entitled 1
to her share of credit for the admir- i
able order and system prevailing esI
pecially under her immediate jurisdiction.
The rule of her domestic routine
is order, and those who have been so |
j fortunate as to be in a position to know, '
are ngreed that hospitality is the j
watchword of her home.
THROUGH THE CROPS.'
It was my pleasure.to he entertained
overnight by Mr. and Mrs. Barron re!
cently. It was late in the afternoon
when I arrived, but iu pursuance of Mr.
Barron's maxim that "even a little
j time should not be wasted," I went
i with him through a portion of his crops.
! Crops are good nearly all over the
[ country; hut Mr. Barron's are especially
line. The bad places this year
show up nearly as well as the good !
places did last year. This is the case |
with both corn and cotton.
HRIXGINi: UP POOR LAND.
A short distance from his home, Mr. [
Barron pointed out to me a patch of 1
, cotton that he thought would easily !
make a hale to the acre. "Eight years 1
'' ? 1 .1 "\T.? K.liic cnnf
;iyU, CApmillCU 1UI. uauua, Lijio u|<u. |
was so bald that it would hardly J
sprout peas. I covered it all over with j
sawdust. Then I put on it about 25 i
loads of chips, and covered it to a depth j
of about two iuches. Next, I turned j
it under with a two-horse plow, and
then sowed it down in wheat. Eight ;
years ago it would do nothing. You
see what it will do now."
NOTHING CHEAPER THAN MANURE.
j "Anything is good manure," said Mr. '
Barron. "Pine leaves, muck, trash j
i raked up in the woods, and even saw- j
dust. Why, I keep my stalls filled
j with sawdust nearly all the time. You j
never see any sawdust lying around j
my mill. It goes into the stable, and
as soon as it becomes thoroughly mixed, I
I have it thrown out and fresh sawdust
put in. It not only makes the manure 1
go farther; but it is better And then
there are peas. There is nothing bet- |
j ter. This year I have sown (>0 bushels, j
A bushel of peas is worth as much as
a sack of guano. In fact, I will give
any man a sack of guano to put in a !
bushel of peas for me any time.
WORTH 25 CENTS.
"And cotton seed. There is no tell- j
ing how much they are worth. I am
satisfied they are worth 25 cents a
bushel on any man's land. I never ;
sold any cotton seed but once in my
life. One year my son Tom and myself
sold 1,100 bushels at 34 cents. I have
never yet been right well satisfied that
, we did the correct thing."
RIVER IIOTTOM CORN.
On the river, Mr. Barron showed me j
about 50 acres of as fine corn as I have
ever seen. The soil was of the richest
character, the corn had been well worked,
and the stalksseemed to hold about
as many ears as they could well carry.
The sight of the wide muddy Catawba
flowing by such a large body of valuable
corn, so near maturity, at once
suggested the danger of an overflow,
and I asked Mr. Barron about his :
chances of loss. The answer was an j
illustration of the energetic and dete- i
i mined character of the man. "I have
. lost corn by a freshet he said, "but I j
am not going to stand by and see it
washed away when I can help it.
Last year, about the time the corn was
getting ready to gather, I noticed that
the river was rising. I immediately
got a lot of hands together, paid them
a good advance on their regular wages,
and we went into the river up to our
necks and got the corn. Many years
ago I noticed the river rising on a
Sunday morning. I got up a lot of
hands and gathered it on Sunday.
They had me up in the church about
it, too. The question was, was it necessary
? Suppose your house would j
catch on fire on Sunday, would you
not put it out ? Of course it was necessary.
They could not do anything
with me."
NKVKK ItOl'HHT A HUSH EI..
Of all the important things 011 a
farm, Mr. Barron believes in raising j
corn and lots of it. This year he has !
in his own crop SO acres?50 acres in
the bottoms and fit) acres on the up- j
lands. "Some years I sell as high as
500 bushels," he told me, "but," he
continued, "I never bought a bushel in
my life."
how to <;i;t a stand ok cotton. ;
"The main idea in cultivating cotton
is lots of manure and plenty of work,"
says Mr. Barron. "I work my cotton
more than most of my neighbors. I j
never stop for want of a season, and I
always try to work it five times. You
often hear of people failing to get a
stand of cotton 011 red lands. That is
something I never did in my life. I
*' ??"? ?> ctonil nilrl it. i.j ilist, tile '
iimUJO M ovuuu^ i?u?? .? j
i simplest tiling in the world. Two
i weeks after yon plant your cotton, you I
must loosen up the top crust. Take
small pieces of timber about 15 or 18
inches Ion};, and make rakes, by driving
through them 20 or 40 penny nails
and attaching handles. (Jo over the '
rows with these and stir up the crust.
It lets in the warmth and kills the !
grass. The cotton will come up certain
then, and the raking is worth as
much as a hoeing. This is, of course,
provided tnecotion nasnoi ueenpiani- ,
ed too deep. Many people make a
mistake in this respect. They should plant
more shallow."
THK OLD-FASH ION HI) WAV.
Here are some more valuable points t 1
that Mr. Barron gave me. If it were
not for some of these wise old men
who steadily preserve the good oldfashioned
way, through the demoraliz- 1
ing influences of crazy experiments,
some of our best methods of doing
things would be lost. Mr. Barron J
knows the best way to cultivate and
save Irish potatoes. "About the mid- 1 1
die of March, plow up your patch deep,
then run a furrow as deep as you can
get it, put in a little acid, plant your
potatoes deep, cover over and smooth
down level with a rake. The first
time it rains, cover over the patch ;
with pine leaves to a depth of two
or three inches. Now leave it, and
don't trouble it any more. By the j
middle of May, you can get potatoes
as big as hen eggs. Most people dig
their potatoes in August. I do not.
They are liable to rot. Leave them in
the ground until you dig sweet pota*rv/^u
Tlton rmt tlinm iiri in hill<4 inst.
"VO. * "" i -J -J J ?
like sweet potatoes and they will keep j
all wjnter."
Mr. Barron told me a great many
other things that would he worth writing
about; but at this time I can't get
tbe space. I trust, however, that many \
of my readers will find in the foregoing
several" valuable ideas that are worth
studying. w. D.
+ ?
THE COl'MY GOVERNMENT LAW.
The new county government bill, !
which became a law at the last session I
of the legislature, makes some sweep- (
ing changes. The following is a lull j
synopsis of the bill, which becomes
effective on Jauuary 1st, 181)5. It '
should be read carefully by all taxpayers
and laid away for future reference
:
Section 1 provides for the abolition
of the office of county commissioner 1
and devolves their duties on the new
organization.
Section 2 provides for the election of
county supervisor every two years.
Section 8 provides for the bond of
the supervisor in the sum of $5,000.
Sec. 4. The county supervisor shall
have general jurisdiction over all pub- j
lie highways, roads, bridges and ferries, 1
and over the paupers, and in all mat- j
ters relating to taxes and disbursements I
of public funds for county purposes, in |
their respective counties, and in any
other case that may be necessary for
the internal improvement and locul i
concerns of their respective counties; |
said supervisor shall have power and j
authority to administer oaths to any J
person in reference to matters apper- j
taining to his olfice.
Sec. 5. That the governor shall ap- j
point, upon the recommendation of the i
senator, and members of the house of :
representatives from the respective !
counties, three discreet freeholders in i
each township in the several counties j
of the State, who shall be known as j
the board of township commissioners,
whose term of office shall be coterminal
with that of the governor by whom
such commissioner shall have been appointed,
aud until their successors
tire appointed and qualified. In case
of a vacancy or in case of the refusal
of any person so appointed to serve
as such commissioner, the governor
shall fill the same as here-in-before provided:
Provided, That no person
shall be required to serve more than
once in every four years ; and said commissioner,
during the term of his office,
be exempt from all road and jury duty.
Section 6 abolishes the township
boards of equalization and puts their
duties on the new board herein provided
for.
Section 7 abolishes the boards of
county commissioners and county board
of equalization and devolves their duties
on the new board, and provides
that the same compensation received
by the old boards be paid to the new j ;
boards.
Sec. 8 That the county supervisor,
together with the chairmen of the towuship
boards of commissioners in the
several townships appointed by the gov- ;
ernor, shall constitute the county board '
of commissioners, of which said board
the county supervisor shall be chair- i
man.
Sec. 9. That immediately after the
appointment of the several boards of !
township commissioners, and the elec- j
tion and qualification of the county
supervisor, or as soon thereafter as (
may be practicable, the said supervisor (
shall call a meeting of said board for (
the purpose of organization. And the
the county board of commissioners ,
shall meet thereafter on the first Monday
in January, April, July aud Octo- \
her of each year at the county court |
house, for the transaction of business, ,
and a majority of said board shall con- (
stitute a quorum : Provided, That the >
chairman of said board shall call an ex- ,
tra meeting at any time, and shall be ,
required to do so upon the written request
of three members of the board. , ,
That at the first meeting of the board, ; ,
they shall elect one of their number )
who shall be a member of the State .
board of equalization, and who shall ^
perform all the functions of said office , ^
as provided by law.
Sec. 10. That it shall be the duty j
of the county supervisor, together with
the chairman of the board of township
commissioners, to lay oft'in convenient
sections the roads, bridges and ferries
in the several townships in their respectivc
counties, which said sections
shall be numbered for the purpose of '
letting out the same to bo worked and
maintained under the contract.
fcjec. 11. That if the county board 1
of commissioners conclude to adopt the
contract system for working, maintain- 1
ing and and operating the several sections
of highways, roads, bridges and i
ferries in the several townships in their !
respective counties, the county super- 1
visor, as soon as practicable thereafter, <
shall advertise in a newspaper pub- j ]
fished in the county, once a week for
three weeks, and by notices posted in 1
two or more conspicuous places in the I
several townships, for bids from respon- 1
sible persons for the performance of the i
work as above set forth. Any and all >
bids made shall he in writing, sealed, t
and addressed to the county supervisor,
and by him opened and sub- ( 5
mitted to the county board of coin mis- i
sioners, and it shall be the duty of said J 1
tn unopnt th? lowest bid made i
by a responsible person or party : Provided,
The county board of commis- i
sioners shall have the power to reject \ 1
any and all bids. ; i
Sec. 12. When any bid shall have ! i
been accepted by the county board of 1
commissioners, they shall require the 1 t
person or party whose bid shall have 1
been accepted to enter into bond double j i
the amount of said bid, and with good <
and sufficient surety, payable to said ]
board and their successors in office, (
for the use of the county, which bond s
shall specify the nature of the work f
required, conditioned on the faithful j i
performance of the same. ]
Sec. 13. In case of the failure of any
contractor to perform the conditions of <
his bond, the board of county road 1
commissioners shall declare the same
forfeited, and the circuit solicitor shall j j
enter suit in the name of said board j t
upon said bond for the penalty there- 1 S
of, and any sum of money recovered
in such action shall be paid into the
county treasury and heroine a part of
the county road fund.
Section 14 empowers the board to
remove defaulting contractors and
relet sections of highways, roads,
bridges and ferries.
Sec. 15. The county treasurers of
the several counties are hereby autliorized
and empowered to receive
from any and all persons liable to road
duty in the several counties, the sum of
two dollars as a commutation tax in
lieu of all road duty required by law,
and all money so paid shall be set
apart and known as the county road
fund : Provided, That said commutation
tax be paid between the first
day of November and the first day of
March in each year for the fiscal year, or
when State and county taxes are paid.
Section 10 requires the county treasurer
to furnish the county supervisor
a list of all persons who have paid
their commutation road tax, and provides
that all who have not so paid
shall be required to perform road duty
not exceeding six days in the year.
Persons are not required to work more
than three days in any one week. If
the contract system is adopted, those
liable to road duty are assigned to the
contractors ; but where this system is
not adopted, the road overseers are in
charge of those who are so liable for
road duty.
Section 17 provides that where the
coutract system is adopted, then said
contractor shall allow the county f>0
cents per day for each person liable
and reporting for road duty.
Section 17 provides a penalty of $10
for refusal to pay road tax, or imprisonment
for 20 days. This section allows
the county treasurer to receive
tax ten days after it is due by adding
50 per cent, penalty to same.
Section 10 provides for the payment
of all accounts by first being approved
by the whole board, countersigned by
the secretary of the board.
Section 20 provides for a fine of $100
or one year's imprisonment for any
neglect of duty by any commissioner.
Section 21 requires the board to report
at the last term of general sessions
in each year to the presiding judge.
Sec. 22. The members of the county
board of commissioners shall have
power to administer oaths to all persons
appearing before them, and to
punish by fine not exceeding $10, or
imprisonment in the county jail uot
exceeding 20 hours, any and all persons
guilty of disorderly conduct.
Section 23 provides that all convicts
r? more L'UUUUUVC IU luu ncimic Hitiv;
and in such cases overseers, as now
provided by law, shall be appointed in
;ach township bv the board of township
commissioners, for such townships,
who shall execute the laws now
u force in reference to the working of
public highways.
Section 43 provides for the election
)f one member of th"~ board as seereary.
Section 40 gives compensation for
supervisor. It is as follows in counts
named : York, $300; Lancaster,
*300; Chester, $800 ; Union, $000.
sentenced to the county jail or penitentiary
for a term of less than two
years shall work on the roads. It also
provides that municipal authorities
may also sentence under the same
condition those convicted of misdemeanors
to work on streets*
Section 24 provides for a county
chain-gang.
Section 25 provides for the appointment
of guards and the keeping and
feeding of convicts.
Section 2(5 provides that if convicts
become uuruly they are to be sent to
the State penitentiary. When convicts
are not employed they are to be confined
in the county jail.
Section 27 provides for a county physician.
Section 28 gives board supervision of
county poor house.
Section 29 provides for the appointment
of a superintendent of poor house.
Sec. 31. In case any poor child or
children shall be, or become, chargeable
to the county, the county board of
commissioners may bind out any such
child or children as an apprentice to
some person of good moral character
until such child, if it be a male, shall arrive
at the age of 1G years; and if it be
a female until she arrive at the age of
14 years or shall marry. The said
board shall have power to bind out to
service, under some person of good
moral character, any illegitimate child
or children likely to become chargeable
to the county, or liable to be demoralized
by the immoral conduct or evil
example of their mother or other persons
having them in charge, in the
manner and for the time prescribed for
pauper children, and they shall have
power to issue all necessary writs to
enforce* the provisions of this section.
Section 33 provides for the investment
of money belonging to poor or illegitmate
children by thejudge of probate
for their benefit.
Section 34 gives power to make contracts
for supplying poor house or repairing
the same.
Section 35 provides for manner of
payment of claims by county board.
Section 3G provides for the making
of a report at the last term of court in
the year.
Section 37 provides for a seal.
Sec. 38. Kach county shall pay: 1.
The fees of the grand and petit jurors
while in attendance upon the circuit
court. 2. Witnesses' fees in the State
cases for actual attendance upon the
circuit courts as provided by law. 3.
Fees of physicians and surgeons testifying
as experts before a coroner's
jury or the circuit court. 4. Fees of
sheriffs and clerk of court as provided
by law. 5. Fees of county coroners
is allowed by law. G. Fees or salaries
Df trial justices and constables. 7.
The compensation of auditors, treasurers
and county supervisors as pro
vided by law.
Section 39 provides method of payment
of fees as jurors, constables, and
witnesses, which shall be paid by treasurer,
when signed by the presiding
judge and county clerk of court, or
these accounts may be received as
taxes.
Section 40 provides that fees of coroners,
sheriffs, supervisors and physicians
for post mortem shall be first approved
by the board of county commissioners.
Section 41 provides that the sheriff,
his deputies, coroners aud constabie
shall execute legal orders directed to
them by the board of commissioners
and receive same fees for such service
as is allowed in other cases.
Section 42 changes the reports from
old county boards to supervisor.
Section 43 requires the county board
of commissioners to prepare a report
showing the amount of money needed
by said county and forward same to
comptroller general not later than
November 15th of each year.
Section 44 provides that in case of
failure of supervisor to faithfully perform
his duties, the solicitor shall
bring action against his bondsmen,
men, and any money so received
iha'1 be deposited with the county
:o the credit of the road fund.
Section 45 provides for payment of
salary of supervisor quarterly.
Section 4G provides for a record to
>e kept by the county supervisor, said
ecord to he open to the public.
Sec. 47. That so much of this act
is applies to the working of the pubic
highways by the contract system,
ind by convicts in chain gangs, shall
lot be obligatory on such county
joard of commissioners as conclude
hat the present system of working the
lighways in their respective counties
.lirtlfn MA 4 1* AHA