Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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l. m. grist & sons, Publishers, j gl Jjamilg gteirspaper: <Jfor the promotion of the political, Social, gugricultural, and Commercial Interests of the ?outh. { term|ingScopy.bfi^^c??toance* established 1855. YOEKYILLE, S. C., WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 21, 1898. * ISTO. 102. LOST Mil r?? a *T*T A T7 A III U uy ah ha. jiAiu Copyright, 1897, by Anna K. Rohlfs. Synopsis of Previous Installments. In order that new readers of The Enquirer may begin with the following installment ot this story, and understand it just the same as though they had read it all from the beginning, we here give a synopsis of that portion of it which has already been published: Amelia Butterworth, who has done clever detective work, is called upon by Mr. Gryce, a professional detective, to take up an interesting case. He tells her that in a certain village several persons have suddenly disappeared. In this place lives a family of the name of Knollys, the children of a former friend of Miss Butterworth. Mr. Gryce desires Miss Butterworth to enter this family for detective work. Miss Butterworth goes to visit the Knollys' home, finding there Mipses Lucetta and Loreen Knollys and their brother William. She dines with the family and is taken to her room. She remains awake during the night, and, heading strange noises, goes into the hall and calls Lucetta, who gives unsatisfactory reasons for the disturbance. Mr. Trobm, a neighbor visits the Knollys. Lucetta is terrified at seeing him and faints. Miss Butterworth receives a letter from Mr. Gryce telling her that if she is in danger to blow upon a whistle he sends her. An old crone called Mother Jane appears. Miss Butterworth gives her a quarter, whereupon Mother Jane repeats a curious combination of numbers. Miss Butterworth leaves the house and hears of a young girl formerly leaving the Knollys house in a carriage and being married before her mother could overtake her. Since then a phantom carriage is said to go through Lost Man's lane at midnight, suggesting that the carriage may carry away the persons mysteriously disappearing. Mr. Trohm drives Miss Butterworth in his wagon. Returning to the house she witnesses a parting between Liucetta ana a lover, wutw icvjucov .... ?... answer to his suit Lucetta is endeavoring to put off. He leaves without getting a favorable reply. Miss Butterworth gets from Loreen the key to a chamber which she has heard is haunted. In visiting it she finds her way into William's sanctum and discovers that he is a vivisectionist. Miss Butterworth passes an uncomfortable night She is locked in her chamber and loses her whistle which she keeps to call the police, but recovers it. Making further explorations, she finds two shutters tied together with a knot of crape, indicating a death in the house. Miss Butterworth is impressed with the gentlemanlike demeanor of Mr. Trobm and goes with him to visit Mother Jane, who repeats her combination of numbers. Miss Butterworth sees on the wall shadows of several persons carrying what appears to l>e a corpse to its burial. She follows and sees the bearers lower a cottin through a hole in the tloor. Miss Butterworth meets Mr. Gryce at the hotel. Hei informs her that he has a clew pointing to Mother Jane as the culprit and he has examined a string of vegetables in Mother Jane's cabin, finding in one of them, corresponding to a number repeated by the crone, a valuable ring. He assisted at the burial witnessed by Miss Butterworth and tells her that the corpse was a favorite dog of William Knollys. He had disguised himself in Mother Jane's clothes, the others supposing him to be mother Jane. Miss Butterworth tells him of finding the knot of crape and convinces him that what was buried was human. Mr. Gryce searches the Knollys house and goes to the grave in the cellar. He is about to open it when Loreen stops him and avows that it is the grave of her mother. CHAPTER XXIX INVESTIGATION. The shock of these words?if false, most horrible; if true, still more horrible?threw us all aback and made even Mr. Gryce's features assume art aspect quite uucommou to them. "Your mother's grave?" said he, lookiug from her to Loreen with very evident doubt. "I thought your mother died seven or more years ago, and this grave has been dug within three days." "I know," she whispered. "To the world my mother has been dead many, many years, but not to us. We closed her eyes night before last, and it was to preserve this secret, which involves others affecting our family honor, that we resorted to expedients which have perhaps attracted the notice of the police and drawn this humiliation down upon us. I can conceive no other reason for this visit, ushered in as it was by Mr. Trohm." "Miss Lucetta," Mr. Gryce spoke up quite quickly?if he had not I certainly could not have restrained some expression of the emotions awakened in my own breast by this astounding revelation? "Miss Lucetta, it is not necessary to bring Mr. Trohm's name into this matter or that of any other person than myself. 1 saw the coffin lowered here, which you sav contained the body of your mother. Thinking this a strange place of burial and not knowing it was vnur mother. Miss Knollvs. to whom you were paying these last dutiful rites, I took advantage of my position as detective to satisfy myself that nothing wrong lay behind so mysterious a death and burial. Can you blame me, Miss Knollys? Would I have been a man to trust if 1 had let such an event go by unchallenged in this lane?" She did not answer She had beard but one sentence of all this long speech. "You saw my mother's coflin lowered? Where were you that you should see that? In some of these dark passages, let in by 1 know not what traitor to our peace of mind." And her eyes, which seemed to have grown almost supernaturally large and bright under her emotions, turned slowly in their sockets till they rested with something like doubtful accusation upon mine. But not to remain there, for Mr. Gryce recalled . - .i_ i i- i? xi. them almost lnsrauuv uueit oy mm short, sharp negative. "No, I was nearer than that.- I lout iny strength to this burial. If you had thought to look under Mother Jane's hood, you would have seen what would have forced these explanations then and there." "And you"? "And I was Mother Jane for that night. Not from choice, miss, but from necessity. It was I your brother saw in the c ottage. I could not give away my plans by refusing the task your brother offered me." fS LAI. , I [ARINE GREEN. j i i i "It is well." Lucetta had risen and ] was now standing by the side of Loreen. ( "Sneh a secret as ours defies secrecy. Even Providence takes part against us. What you want to know we uiust tell, but I assure you it has nothing to do with the business you profess to be chiefly interested in?nothing at all." "Then perhaps you and your sister will retire," said he. "Distracted as you are by family griefs, I would not wish to add one iota to. your distress. This lady, whom you seem to regard with more or less favor as friend or relative, will stay to see that no dishonor is paid to your mother's remains. But her face we must see, Miss Knollys, if only to lighten the explanations you will doubtless feel called upon to mako." It was Loreen who answered this. "If it must bo," said sho, "remember your own mother and deal reverently with ours." Which word and the way it was uttered gave me my first distinct conviction that it was truth these girls had been telling and that the girl child we had come to unearth was the Althea of my early friendship, whose fairyliko form I had for so long a time believed to have mingled with foreign dust. The thought was almost too much for my self possession, and I advanced upon Loreen with a dozen burning questions on my lips when the voice of Mr. Gryce stopped ma "Explanations later," said he. "For the present we want you here." It was not an easy task for me to linger there with all my doubts unsolved, waiting for the decisive moment when Mr. Gryce should say: "Come! Look! Is it she?" But the will that had al- g ready sustained me through so much f did not fail me now, and, grievous as r was the ordeal, I passed steadily through t II, ueillg uuiw iu bay, wuujju uuv muiout some emotion, I own: "It is she! Changed almost beyond conception, but still she," which was a happier end to this adventure than that we had first feared, mysterious as the fact was, not only to myself, but, as I could see, to the acute detective as well. The girls had withdrawn long before this, just as Mr. Gryco had desired, and I now thought I might be allowed to join them, but Mr. Gryce detained me till the gravo was refilled and made decent again, when he turned and to my intense astonishment?for I had thought the matter was all over and the exoneration of this household complete?said 6oftly and with telling emphasis in my ear: "Our work is not done yet. They who make graves so readily in cellars must have been more or less accustomed to the work. We have still some digging to do." CHAPTER XXX. KTKATEU X. I was overwhelmed. "What," said I, "you still doubt?" "I always doubt," he gravely replied. "This cellar bottom offers a wide field for speculation. Too wide, perhaps, but I have a plan." Here he leaned over and whispered a few concise sentences in my ear in a tone so low I should feel that I was betraying his confidence in repeating them. But their import will soon become apparent from what presently occurred. "Light Miss Butterworth to the stairway," Mr. Gryce now commanded one of the men, and thus accompanied I found my way back to the kitchen, a where Hannah was bemoaning uncom- ( forted the shame which had come upon e the house. 6 I did not stop to soothe her. That 1 was not my cue, nor would it have an- i swered my purpose. On the contrary, I d exclaimed as I passed her: i '' What a shame! Those wretches can- { not bo got away from the cellar. What 1 do you suppose they expect to find there? I I left them poking hither and thither in a way that will be very irritating to Miss Knollys if she is such a woman as 1 lam. I wonder William stands it." e What she said in reply I do not know, c I was half way down the hall before my \ own words were finished. i My next move was to go to my room, f where I had among other small necessa- ( ries a tiny hammer and some small, 1 very sharp pointed tacks. Curious arti- I cles, you will think, for a woman to t carry on her travels, but I am a woman i of experience and havo known only too i often what it was to want these petty i conveniences and not be able to get i them. They were to serve me an odd 1 turn now. Taking a half dozen tacks in i one hand and concealing the hammer in J my bag, I started boldly for William's } room. I kuew that tho girls were not : there, for 1 had heard them talking together in tho sitting room when I came < up. Besides, if they were, I had a ready 1 answer for any demand they might make. ' Searching out his boots, I turned them i over, and into the sole of each I drove ' one of my small tacks. Then I put them back in the same place and posi- 1 tion in which I found them. Task No. i 1 was done. i When I issued from the room, I went ' as quickly as I could below. I was now ready for a talk with the girls, whom I < found as I had anticipated, talking and Weeping together in tho sitting room. ' They rose as I came in, awaiting my first words in evident anxiety. They had ' not heard me go up stairs. I immediately let my anxiety and only too deep in- i terest in this matter have full play. "My poor girls! What is the meaning of this.' Your mother just dead, and the matter kept from me, her friend! It is i astounding?incomprehensible! I do not i know what to make of it or of you." i "'It has a strange look," said Loreen gravely, bu; we had reasons, Miss Bnt- rc terworth. Jur mother, charming and w sweet as yon remember her, has not al- aj ways done light, or, what you will bet- w ter understand, committed a criminal rfc act against a person in this town, the 6e penalty of which is state's prison." a With difficulty the words came out With difficulty she kept down the flush b< Df shame which threatened to overwhelm her and did overwhelm her more sensitive sister. But her self control was Li jreat, and she went bravely on, while I, in faint imitation of her courage, re- ga strained my own surprise and intolerable sense of shock and bitter sorrow un- ta 3er a guise of simple sympathy. gi f ?? -t- - ?:J "IE was corgery, sue suiu. xuio has never before # passed our lips, ga Though a cherished wife and a beloved th mother she longed for many things that th ny father could not give her, and in an th )vil hour she imitated the name of a rich man here and took the check thus bi signed to Hartford. The fraud was not detected, and she received the money, 6h but ultimately the rich man whose er money she had spent discovered the use oc she had made of his name, and if sho lb lad not escaped would have had her ar- th ested. But she left the country, and he only revenge he took was to swear yj ;hat if she ever set foot again in X. he m would call the police down upon her. Fes, if she were dying, and they had to yo Irag her from the brink of the grave. et< \nd he would have done it, and know- th ing this we have lived under the shadow of this fear for 11 years. My father sti lied under it, and my mother?ah, she sa; spent all her life under foreign skies, jut when she felt the hand of death av lpon her her affection for her own flesh th ind blood triumphed over her discre- IJ ;ion, and she came, secretly, I own, but et< itill with that hdrror menacing her, to eh hese doors, and begging our forgive- loi less lay down under the roof where we Hi were born and died with the halo of our ha ove about her." w< "Ah," said I, thinking of all that hii iau UttppCLlCU, oauitox uau wuxuc iuvu iuio louse and finding nothing bat conflrnation of what she was saying, "I begin to< o understand." th But Lucetta shook her head. M; "No," said she, "you cannot under- or ;tand yet. We'who had worn mourning vii or her because my father wished to Lc nako this very return impossible knew ne tothing of what was in store for ns till 60i "STOP YOUR DESECRATING , letter came saying she would bo at the coi J. station on the very night we receiv- bri d it. To acknowledge our deception, to fel eek and bring her home openly to this to louse, could not bo thought of for a monent. How then could we satisfy her ch [ying wishes without compromising her mi nemory or ourselves? Perhaps you have so! juessed, Miss Butterworth. You have inl lad time since we revealed the unhap- in VTT cnorof rvf fViia h nil fifth nld. ' ? "Yes," said I. "I havo guessed." wc Lucetta, with her baud laid on mine, re; ooked wistfully into my face. "Ah," wc he said, "when we saw her, she was Iriven up to our doorstep through the sal vends and grass, and William, who had ho lot dared to go to C. lest our 6trate- cei ;eiu should fail, stepped down to the nil :arriago and lifted her out in his arms, cu [t was while sho still cduug to him, with ler face pressed close against his breast, wi ;kat Loreen and I first saw her, our th nother, yet so small, the smallest of us wi ill. She was wan, but happy and very co: lear to death. Loreen and I blessed God pu is we carried her up the stairs and laid wi icr in the great front chamber. We did tic lot foresee what would happen the very th tiext morning?I mean the arrival of ht four telegram, to be followed so soon by th yourself. " nc "Poor girls! Poor girls!" It was all I ly ;ould say. I was completely over- or whelmed. 6ii "The first night after your arrival we wJ moved her into William's room as be- \V iug more remote and thus a safer ref- m uge for her. The next night she died, ca Ihe dream which you had of being ey locked in your room was no dream. Lo- w reeu did that hi foolish precaution wi igaiust your trying to search us out in lit the uiglit. It would have been better m now, I seo, if we had taken you into ed aur confidence. fe "Yes," suid I, "that would have been better. " But I did not say how much ui better. That would have been giving to away my secret. TI "William, who is naturally colder th ? * i? than we ana less sensitive 111 xugaiu tu m her good name, has shown some little sp impatience at the restraint imposed th upon him, and this was an extra bur- ki den, Miss Butterworth, but that and all the others wo have been forced to bear ar [the generous girl did not speak of her T. vn special grief and loss) have all been ndered useless by the unhappy chance hich. has brought into our midst this ?cnt of the police. Ah, if I only knew hether this was the providence of God ibuking us or just the malice of man eking to rob us of our one best treasure, mother's untarnished name!" "Mr. Gryce acts from no malice"? I igan, but I saw they were not listens' "Are they done down below?" asked ncetta. " Does the man you call Gryce seem tisfied?" asked Loreen. t I drew myself up physically and men11v Mv ?w>nnH task was ahont to he 11. "1 do not understand those men," id I. "They seem to want to look farer than the sacred spot where we left em. If they are going through a form, ey are doing it very thoroughly." "That is their duty," said Loreen, it Lucetta took it less calmly. "It is nn unhappy day for us," cried e. "Shame after shame, disgrace aftdisgrace. I wish we had all died in ir childhood. Loreen, I must see Wilim. He will be doing some foolish iug, swearing or"? "My dear," said I, "let me go to 'illiam. He may not like me overuch, but I will at least prove a reraint to him. You are too feeble. See, u ought to be lying on the couch iniad of trying to drag yourself out to e stables." And indeed at that moment Lucetta'fl rength gave suddenly out, and she uk into Loreen's arms insensible. When she was restored, I hurried ray to the stables, still in pursuit of e task which I had not yet completed, found William sitting doggedly on a doI in the open doorway, grunting out ort sentences to the two men who anged in his vicinity on either side 3 was angry, but not as angry as I d seen him times before. The men jre townsfolk and listened eagerly to 8 broken sentences. One or two of ese reached my eara "Let 'em go it. It won't be now or iay they 11 settle this business. It's e devil's work, and devils are sly. y house won't give up that secret, any other house they'll be likely to jit. The place I would ransack? But ireeu would say I was babbling. Good ss knows a ieiiow'8 got to taik aoout netbing when his fellow townsfolk HAND!" SHE CRIED. :ne to sec him." Aud here his faugh ako in harsh, cruel aud insulting. I t it did him no good and made haste show myself. Immediately his whole appearance anged. Ho was so astonished to see ) thero that for a moment he was ablutely silent; then ho broke out again to another loud guffaw, but this time a different tone. "Ah, ha," he laughed, "Miss Butter)rth I Here, Saracen. Come, pay your spects to the lady who likes you so ill." And Saracen came, but I did not forko my ground. I had seen what I ped to see in one corner, and Saraa's presence afforded me the opportuty of indulging in one or two rather rious performances. "I am not afraid of the dog," said I, th marked loftiness, shrinking toward e pail of water I had already marked tli my eye. "Not at all afraid, "I utiuued, catching up the pail and ttiuc it between us as the dog made a Id dash in my direction. "These gen:men will not see me hurt." And ough they all laughed?they would ive been fools if they had not?and 0 dog jumped the pail and I jumped, it a pail, but a broom handle that was ing amid all the rest of the disorder 1 tho floor, they did not eee that I had ccccdod iu doing wbut I wished,. Inch was to place tnat pail so near to illiam's foot that? But wait a mocut, everything in its own time. I esped tho dog, and next moment had my oon him. He did not move after that, bich rather put a stop to the laughter, bich seeing I drew very near to Wilmi, and with a sly gesture to the two en, which for some reason they seemto understand, whispered in the rude llow's ear: "They've found your mother's grave .1? -i- - a '\? iner tue uuwcr puriui. iuui uokus Id me to tell you. But that is not all. aey're trampling hither and yon irough all the secret places in the celr, turning up the earth with their tades. I know they won't find anyling, but we thought you Qught to low"? Here I made a feint of being startled, id ceased. My second task was done, be third only remained. Fortunately at that moment Mr. Gryce and his torlowers showed themselves in the garden. They had jnst come from the cellar and played their part in the same spirit I bad mine. Though they were too far for their words to be heard, the air of secrecy and the dubious looks they cast toward the stable could not but evince even to William's dull understanding that their investigations had resulted in a doubt which left them far from satisfied, but, once this impression made, they did not linger long together. The man with the lantern moved off, and Mr. Gryce turned toward us, changing his whole appearance as he advanced till no one could look more cheerful and good humored. " Well, that is over," said he. "Mere form, Mr. Knollys?mere form. We , have to go through these things at times, and good people like yourself Wnf T occmra rnn if {a UUVC tu OUUJLUlli UUV A UDQIUO J V/Vft AW AO not pleasant, and under the present circumstances?I am sure you understand me, Mr. Knollys?the task has occasioned me a feeling almost of remorse, ( but that is inseparable from a detective's life. He is obliged every day of , his life to ride over the tenderest emotions. Forgive me! And now, yon boys Vcatter till I call you together again. I hope our next search will be withont such sorrowful accompaniments." It succeeded. William stared at him and stared at the men slowly filing off down the yard, but was not for a moment deceived by these overflowing expressions. On the contrary, he lo9ked more concerned than he had while seated between the two men manifestly set to guard him. "The deuce I" he cried, with a shrug of bis shoulders that expressed anything but satisfaction. '' Lucetta always said"? But even he knew enough not to finish that sentence, low as he had mumbled it. Watching him and watching Mr. Gryce, who at that moment turned to follow his men, I thought the time had come for action. Making another spring as if in fresh terror of Saracen, who, by the way, was eying me with the meekness of a lamb, I tipped over that pail with such suddenness and with such dexterity that its whole contents poured in one flood over William's feet And my third task was accomplished. The oath he uttered and the excuses which I most volubly poured forth could not have reached Mr. Gryce's ears, for he did not turn. And yet from the way his shoulders shook as he disappeared around the corner of the house I judge that he was not entirely ignorant of the subterfuge by which I hoped to force this blundering booby of ours to change the boots he wore for one of the pairs into which I had driven those little tacks. TO BE CONTINUED. ittisccllancous Reading. TENTHATE A BANDIT. A New York Lawyer's Thrilling Experience While a Rough Rider. A number of the New .York boys who enlisted with the Rough Riders experienced some severe shocks during the first few days that regiment was in camp at Tampa while getting acquainted with their associates in the organization. The New York boys were scattered around the various troops aud thrown in with men from the west and southwest, who were of a type with which they were not familiar. A young New York clubman, who served through the Santiago campaign with Colonel Roosevelt, told the following story of his first days in the regiment, at the University club the other night, according to the New York Suu: "I went to Tampa alone, after the regiment had been there for several days, armed with letters which I felt pretty sure, would result in my being in Qnliiioi-inn man a i.hiniT T taiVCU 1U? kfUIUlVI lug w mm M vm*md | bad never given any thought to before 1 I the war broke out, and I was about i as green a youth as ever made appli- ] cation at a recruiting station. All < of my time had been devoted to the I study of law and a struggle to estab- J lisb myself, and my ill success proba- I biy bad as much to do with my desire t to fight for my country as anything i else. I "I had never heard much about the 1 Rough Riders; but never having been ' in the west, I had no idea what kind ' of men formed the nucleus of the regiment, although I had heard there 1 were lots of cowboys and westerb had ' men in the ranks. The day I struck ' Tampa I presented my letter to Colonel Wood, and the next day I was a trooper. My troop was made up al- I most entirely of westerners, and at that I time I was the only New Yorker in it. ] I didn't make friends very rapidly ; ( but my tentmate seemed a decent sort i of a fellow, and I was soon on pretty < good terms with him. He was a little, i smooth-faced fellow, with a firm jaw 1 and a keen eye, aud, I should say, s about 30 years of age. He was very j quiet; but when he did talk it was in a i voice as soft as a woman's. i "I made up my mind that he was a ' good fellow, but rather diffident; aud t that in order to make our relations 1 more cordiul, I must draw him out. I felt rather sorry for him, aud for a t time made a point of going everywhere ( | with him in order to make him feel i more comfortable. He took my over- i Lures in good part and seemed to enjoy i my compauy. About the fourth day I it suddenly dawned on me that my ' bashful little 'bunkie' knew all about t me, my Dame, station in life, and all \ the other things that a friend i9 sup- t posed to know, while all I knew about t him was that his name was Redmond. So I just tackled him one day and told ( him that, as we might be together for t months, I'd like to know who he was s aud where he came from and whether he had a family. 'You see, Redmond,' t I said, 'our homes may be all we'll y have to talk about before this war is i over, so we might as well know one 1 another.' f "He gave me a queer look, mumbled something about seeing me later, and left the tent. I made up my mind right there that there was some sad secret in his life that he couldn't talk about to so new an acquaintance as myself, and I didn't bother him again. I was so blue myself about being away , from my friends and relatives that a great wave of pity for this poor fellow, who seemed so much less able to stand trouble than I, swept over me. The 1 second night after this, Redmond put i on his coat and said he was going out i for a walk.. 'Hold on a minute,'I said, 'and I'll go with you,' , " 'Oh, I'm not going far,' he said ; | 'you'd better stay. I'll be back in an i hour.' " 'But I want to go,' I said. 'I'm sick of banging around the tent.' "He said no more and we went out together. There were no guards but ; the provost guards and the men could j wander around at will. We went into ; the town and stopped at a saloon, j where Redmond made me gasp by j drinking nearly half a tumbler of ] whisky without wincing. We went 1 to several other places and had drinks, and finally, at my suggestion, started < back for camp. We were passing ( through a very dark street when Red- < mond suddenly came to a standstill, t and, hauling out his big cavalry re- | volver, examined it carefully and then ] turning to me said: 'You'd better < step in that doorway a moment. I'll < be right back.' ] "I looked up and then noticed, about t a hundred yards away, a man coming | toward us. He was a well dressed, ] prosperous looking man, and as I saw Redmond take a step in his direction ( it came over me all of a sudden what j be intended to do. ] " 'See here, Redmond,' I called, ; walking forward and catching him by ( the shoulder, 'what are you going to 1 io?' I " 'Hold him up,' he said in his soft ; troice. 'Go into a doorway; it won't i :ake a moment.' I " 'Not a bit of it,' I said. 'You'll i io no such work as that while I'm 1 iround.' < "An expression which betrayed the i nan's real charactar came over bis ace and for a second I thought he was going to shoot me. Before he got a :hance I continued: '"Redmond, if you need some money, ['11 help you out. I've got a little. I von't stand for any such game as this hough.' " 'I can get along until we get a pay lay on $5. Can you let me have that nuch ?' " 'Certainly,' I said, and I gave him i bill in a hurry, for the stranger was getting dangerously near us. He put jp his revolver and the stranger passed us, little knowing what a narrow escape be bad bad. "Redmond never made the slightest reference to the affair on our way to lamp ; but when we got into our tent [ told him very plainly that I was going to quit bim, and I made an exchange with another man the next lay. He wasn't the least disturbed jy my leaving him, and always greeted me pleasantly when be met me. A week later he came around and gave jack my $5. We hadn't had a pay lay, and I don't know to this day where be got the money. "From this incident I guessed that Redmond was an unscrupulous fellow ; cut I never had the faintest conception of what a scoundrel he was. It wasn't until I got to Camp Wikoff hat I learned all about Redmond. I came up to that camp from Cuba. He came from Tampa and got there ahead )f me. When I got there he was unler guard, although he wasn't supposed to know it. He was wanted in Kansas for murdering two women, ind the Kansas officers who brought >n the warrant told a tale of Redmond's career that was bloodcurdling, [n addition to being a murderer he was notorious as a train robber and an ill-round desperado. A sergeant was | X 1.2 put OD guaru over xjiuj bo tuai uc wouldn't get away ; but oue night while < :be sergeant was peacefully sleeping, | Redmond cut out the whole back of j ihe tent and escaped. The next day < the detective came on to arrest Red- ? nond, having procured the right from < :he war department; but the bird had < flown, and I have never heard that he < was captured. That was all there Was i ;o it; but if you could meet Redmond i ?by the way, that was merely an | alias?you would never believe that t be was anything but a mother's dar- < ing." ( * ] The First Silver Wedding.?The I fashion of silver weddings dates back ;o the reign of Hugues Capet, king of I France, in 987, says a writer in Vogue. ' Dnce, as Hugues was arranging bis < incle's affairs, he found on one of the 1 jstates a servant who had grown gray 1 n the service of his relative. On the ' 'arm with this old man was also a < serving woman, who was as old as he, < ind also unmarried, who bad been the < nost devoted and hardworking of the tvomeu servants of the king's uncle. > When the kiug beard these praises of I be two, he ordered them to be brought * lefore him, and said to the woman : < "Your service is great, greater than 1 his man's, whose services were great rnoughj for the woman always finds ' a%\A aKo/1 inrt/in hurHnr than u nrisiiv auu uuvuivu^ uuiuvj vuuu m nan, and therefore I will give you a eward. At your age I kuow of none t letter than a dowry and a husband. I rhe dowry is here?this farm from this f ,ime forth belongs to you. If this man t vho has worked with you five and ' .wenty years is willing to marry you, i ,heu the husband is ready." 1 "Your majesty," stuttered the old t leasant, confusedly, "bow is it possible i ,hat we should marry, having already lilver hairs?" "Then it shall be a silver wedding," 1 inswered the king, "and here I give j /ou a wedding ring," drawing a costly i ing from his finger and placing the 1 lands of the thankful old people to- t ;ether. 1 This soon became known all over t France, and raised such enthusiasm that it became a fashion after a twenty years' marriage to celebrate a silver wedding. 6ARBIEL SAILES, GIANT. Stories About a Half Forgotten Strong Man of Maryland. Baltimore Bun. Easton, Md., December 13.?On the Talbot county "Debt Book or Quiet Claims, Michealmas, 1755," made by Colonel Edward Tilgbman for Henry Hollyday, Esq,, representing the interests of the late lord proprietor, showing what was done on quiet claims at that date,appears the following entry: garbiel sailes. Rich Range, 300 acres, 6s. Od. Relpb, 100 acres, 2s Od. These farms were in what is now probably called Oxford Neck, on the left hand side of the publi^road from Hambleton to Oxford, in a pretty and rich agricultural section. Since Sailes's day, among other owners of the land was John Leeds Kerr, some time Doited States senator. Of course no one now living ever saw Gabriel Sailes, nor ever saw any jne that did see him. He left no descendants, and as far as is known to bhe narrator or to the people he has alked with, there is no one of his rindred living. But his name is as well known to Ibis generation as that )f any of bis contemporaries?better cnown than nearly all of them. The stories told about him and the traditions attaching to the place, keep his name in rememberance. He was a mighty man in tallness and strength, measuring, we are told, 6 Feet 8 inches in height and of splendid physical and muscular development. Many stories are told of his feats of strength, the best one of which is this: rhe fame of this powerful man had gone far abroad. It had even reached New York city, where exaggerated stories of his feats and powers had been bold among men who considered they were something of giants themselves. The most notorious pugilist in the country at tnat time was a Dig ana powerful New'Yorker named Garth, cr Goerth. He was a man of science in the pugilistic art, had whipped many a man and had never been bested himself. He beard so much about Gtabriel Sailes and what he could do, be got mad and determined to find bim and whip him. One hog-killing bay in November a stranger rode up :o the Sailes house. "Are yon Mr. Sabriel Sailes ?" he demanded. "Yes; tvhat'll ye have?" said the eastern shoreman to the New Yorker, and he was not a bit startled at the letter's reply. "My name's Garth; I am a ighting man from New York ; I have neard of you as a fighter and I have lome all the way down here to whip r'ou !" "All right," said the eastern shoreman ; "wait a minute until I kill his beef." In those days, and freluently in these, it was the custom to vind up the proceedings of hog-killing lay by slaughtering a beef for Christmas. The animal this time was a big )x. He was brought up in front of Jailes, who struck him between the syes with his right fist and knocked lim down. After cutting the ox's ugular, he turned about to announce a the New Yorker that he was ready o accommodate him ; but that worthy ;vas riding rapidly out the lane, on his vay back to New York. It is not related of him that he was Harticularly cruel to his slaves. But be must have been Drankv with them. It s told that when they asked "Mas' Sabriel" for a holiday he would exjlaim: "Holiday, ye black rascals, ifes, ye shall have holiday," and would ben compel them to-climb up on top ,be barn and sit straddle of the roofd ridge all day. Twenty years ago a gentleman, then 75 years old, told the larrator that his father, when a small >oy, had seen the Negroes sitting a straddle the top of Gabriel Sailes's Darn like so many crows. But the most singular freak of this extraordinary man was connected with lis death and burial. He had bis cofin made while yet alive. It was made >f 2-inch white oak stuff, cut and sawed in the midnight hours in a grove )f white oaks on a headland called 'The Devil's Keep." The coffin was >pen at both ends. He directed?the writing is still extant?that "a jug of whisky be placed in one end of the cofin and a plug of tobacco in the other, so that if the devil comes in at either end he will stop to take a chaw or a Irink, and I will get out at the other." Most fantastic notion; but it is said shut it was done for the purpose of showing what he thought of rum and ,obacco, of which ho used to say: 'They are a part of the devil's diet, ind not fit for white men to use." In she early part of this century the grave was opened through the curiosity of some skeptical people, who affected to iisbelieve the story. The thick oak :offin was there. Both ends of it were >peu, and in one end was a jug. A ecord of the fact and findings was nade at the time. Another of the antastic directions was that the grave should be dug nortb and south, instead if east and west, and a holly tree ilanted at each end. This was done. " i. L!_ 1 me nouies are living yei?uig ?uu /euerable trees. He died about 1760. 8^" As a gentleman and lady were ;aking a ride in the country, they came ,o a farmhouse where all things looked so nice and neat that they concluded hat there could be no trouble there. They stopped and inquired of the farner's wife, who replied : "0, yes, we lave a great deal of trouble; we have .wo hens that want to sit on one jest." BloT "You inherited quite a nice little ortune," said the lawyer. "Yea," rejlied the fortunate youth. "I suppose r ou will pay a lot of your debts now ?" 'I bad thought of it, but I concluded .0 make no change in my mode of iving. I don't want to be accused of /ulgar display."