Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, August 17, 1901, Image 1
t ENQUIRIES.
ISSUED SEMI-WEEKLY.
l. m. grist 4 sons, Publishers. [ % Jfamilp Betrspaper: 4for (t'c promotion of the jjlolitica, Social, Agricultural and Commercial Interests of the people. J TKI!,^N:;*:i;''"0\.J.Kt11l;.K < ^!1'xS1N"':'
ESTABLISHED lS5o. YORKVILLE, S. C., SATURDAY. AUCil'ST 17, 1901. XO. (>(>.
NOT LIKE 0
By Frederick Var
Author of "Tho J6rotlierlioo<
ii Mil'
I
Copyright, 1901, by Frederic Van Rens>
CHAPTER L.
"she shall tiiixk as a man and be as
a man."
MAX and a woman faced each
other in the center of a bril'
forgS liantly lighted room. The woman's
eyes were tilled with
horror that was only half manifest
through the contempt and proud disdain
with which her entire being seemed
animate. Her form was erect, her
head was thrown back, and her right
hand clutched tightly the knotted lace
which covered her bosom, while the
left one hung loosely at her side. Her
eyes. dark, luminous and tilled with
loathing, dread, anger aud defiance,
were unflinchingly fixed upon the man
who confronted her. His features were
distorted with passion. His eyes
gleamed and glinted with jealous rage.
His forehead and cheeks were waxen
in hue. and his lips, slightly parted and
r bloodless, transformed what otherwise
might have been a smile into an expression
of ferocious triumph. He returned
her contemptuous stare with
one of suppressed but inflexible hatred.
Between them, prone upon the floor,
senseless. Inanimate, was the body of
a man. apparently lifeless. It was a
v mute but effectual barrier across which
neither dared to tread. There had been
no word snokeu between the woman
anil the uian since the latter, unannounced.
entered the room and dealt
the blow which completed the tableau;
neither she nor the senseless man between
them was aware of his approach.
Both had been oblivious to all
things save themselves. She was the
first to break the silence that followed
upon the assault.
"You have killed him." she said.
Her voice sounded strangely calm
and unfeeling, but it belied her. She
The woman started toward him.
wondered vaguely why she did not
scream aloud and tear her hair and
throw herself upon that prostrate body
In a passion of tears, entreaties and
accusations.
"He is not dead: he will revive." was
the low toned reply, deadly calm. "It
is you who deserve death, not he. For
him 1 feel nothing but contempt: for
you"? he paused, shrugged his shoulders
with an expression which words
could not have conveyed.
"For me?whatV" she inquired calmly
"Words, mere words." lie responded
coldly. "Recriminations are useless. I
will not indulge in tlieni. This is the
, first time since I was a boy that 1 have
lost my temper. I will not repeat the
experience. 1 have a few words to say
before this person revives. They will
be the last that you will ever hear me
utter."
"Say them; 1 listen."
"I will arrange that an ample annuity
be paid to you. You may make your
own excuses for my absence. I will
make none. If the reasons for my departure
are ever known, the knowledge
will come fiom you or from?hiiu; not
from me. That is all."
He did not bestow a glance upon the
silent form at his feet. His face hud
regained its wonted calmness; the fury
had gone from his eyes; there was only
pain there now.
The woman started toward him. Her
body moved, but not her feet. She
could uot step across that mute harrier
r that was stretched between them, but
her devouring eyes watched him while
he crossed the room to the door and
reached out one hand to open it
"Philip!" she said.
lie turned and faced her. He did
not reply, but waited for her to continue.
"I?I was about to ask?nothing." she
finished haughtily. Pride conquered
all other impulses.
He Inclined his head, opened the
door, crossed the threshold, reelosed
the door and stood alone in the silent
hallway. For a moment he hesitated.
Then he sighed, mounted the stairs and
entered a room on the second tluor,
where for many initiates he stood with
folded arms, gazing down upon the occupant
of a canopied crib, upon a rosy,
smiling, sleeping baby girl, a living
picture of personified innocence, the
only living, human thing in which Hod
has permitted man to behold absolute
purity and goodness.
ITHER MEN.
t Rensselaer Dey,
(I ol" sjllfiH'c," "The (jutiUly
i," Etc.
selaer Dey.
"One year ago today you came to me.
I cannot. I will not. leave you here."
murmured the man.
Methodically he turned away. With
deliberate calmness he busied himself
witl? the preparations upon which he
bad determined, and a half hour later
he descended the stairs and weut
[out through the front door. Upon his
left arm rested the infant, still sleeping;
in his right hand he carried a
satchel. Behind him was his luxurious
[ home, to which he gave no thought
Within it. iu the room where he had
parted with his wife, a man had just
staggered to his feet to behold upon
the floor near where he had fallen the
senseless form of the woman who only
a short time before bad stood so proudly
erect above his own Inanimate body.
Later the man who bore the sleeping
baby in bis arms was ushered into a
pretentious house that fronted upon
Central park?for the unhappy scene
occurred in the city of New York?and
a few moments afterward was seated
in the library behind closed doors. The
Infant, still asleep, was securely ensconsed
in the depths of a huge armchair.
and vis-a-vis with the unhappy
father was a strong, bushy browed,
square jawed man who looked ten
years older tliau be really was.
"I must have one confidant. Maxwell."
the self exiled man said calmly,
"and you are the only man in all the
world whom I care to trust."
He began then at the beginning. He
told a story which covered the lapse of
nearly two years. He referred to bis
wife not bitterly, not angrily, but with
sadness and pain. He omitted nothing
concerning detail, and he concluded
his recital with these words:
"I eoukl not leave my baby there, so
I brought her with me. 1 shall take
her awav, and we will disappear forever
from the sight and gradually from
the memory of everybody who lias
known me ? from everybody except
yourself. I shall change my name,
and only you shall know who 1 am.
My property fortunately is nearly nil
In negotiable securities and can easily
be transferred. My real estate I wish
you to accept in trust for my wife, payln.tr
her the income from it as Ions as
she lives. It will amply provide for
her every want and leave her a comfortable
surplus besides. You can
draw all the papers and forward the
new deeds to me."
"And the reversion?what about that
in case of the death of your wife?"
asked the lawyer.
"Let the reversion lie to you as trustee
for the boned of my heirs. If 1
ever want the property. I will '-onto to
yon for it."
"Are you aware that you are placing
more than a million in my possession?"
"Perfectly. I have twice as much
more, as you know, in negotiable securities.
That will suffice for me."
"You will not apply for a divorce?"
"Certainly not."
"What name will you assume?"
"Yours. I think - that is. your last
one. if you will permit it. I will call
myself Richard Maxwell."
"Why not Philip Maxwell?"
"No: I will retain nothing of the past.
i ..... on .-..oic- ,.i,i tint- <ic Inner ns
I am permitted to live my life shall be
devoted to that child. Philip Harrington
ceased to exist an hour ago. 1 will
sleep here in your house tonight, if I
may. !n the morning I will ask you to
take some cheeks to the banks for me
and secure in their places cashier's
checks that 1 may deposit where 1
please: also to withdraw my securities
from the safe deposit vaults and bring
them to me. Such other affairs as need
attention 1 will remember before morning.
and before night tomorrow I will
be gone."
"Where will you go?"
"I have not decided. 1 probably will
not decide for some time to come. I
will let you know in good time."
"You are very unwise. Philip. Your
suspicions may be unfounded, your
conclusions wrong."
"Perhaps so." wearily. "My decision
is Irrevocable, however, so we will not
discuss it."
"You cannot be father and mother to
that child?to that little girl. If she
were a hoy. it would he different."
"I will he father, mot her?everything
?to her. l>o not argue with me. Max.
Will you show me where I am to sleep?
My dink's la-gin at cnce. 1 shall not
avoid tlient."
Not until tlio man who had decided
that In- was henceforth to tie known
only as Illehard Maxwell was alone in
the room that had been assigned to
hini- tio. not alone, because the little
girl, still quietly sleeping, unconscious
of the tragedy that had already occurred
in her young life, reposed upon the
bed?not until then did he show any
sign of the ravages of the mental whirlwind
that h;id passed over him. and
even thou his face did not lose its
calm, although tears trickled down his
cheeks and splashed unheeded upon
the pillow where rested the companion
of bis future.
He remained tints silent for several
moments, and then lie began restlessly
to pace the tloor with bowed bead and
hands clasped behind his back, up and
down, up and down, endlessly, ceaselessly.
untiringly, bis footsteps falli
ing with absolute precision, keeping
time like the ticking of a clockone.
two. three, four, five. six. seven.
turn; one. two. three, four. five,
six. seven, turn?hour after hour. Once
the baby awakened, and its little voice
murmured. "Mamma!" and then the
father went to the bedside, raisei the
v
"What a beautiful baity glrll" she remarked
gently.
small bead tenderly, administered a
swallow of water, touched the rosy
cheeks with his lips and saw the gentle,
sleepy eyes close a pi in In slumber.
' Then onee more he began that restless,
tireless pacing and kept it up until the
curtains that shrouded the windows
became transparent with the advent of
dawn, a gray light stole Into the room,
sparrows began to twitter on the window
ledges, and the world slowly
awakened to a new day.
After breakfast, while tin* child stood
clinging to a chair between them or
sat upon the floor in the midst of an
agglomeration of parlor bric-a-brac
that had been hastily provided for its i
amusement. Richard Maxwell and his
attorney concluded the conversation of I
the preceding night.
"I've thought it all out." lie said,
"and 1 have fought it all out as well.
My course is laid as certainly as Is
that of a sea captain who sails for a
distant port, and 1 shall follow It as
blindly, depending only upon uiy chart
and my compass."
"You have not slept, rbil"?
"Call me Richard. No, I have not
slept"
"Nor rested."
"No."
"I know you too well to asgue with
you," said the lawyer gravely, "so I
will not attempt to do so. Give me
your Instructions, and I wlLl follow
them to the letter. There is only one
suggestion that I will make."
"What is that V"
"Your affairs in the future, which you
cannot fully prearrange, may require a
reference ? a personal reference, I
mean. Since you have chosen to take
, the same name as mine, let it be un!
derstood. wherever you are. that we
are brothers. Teach the child that she
has an uncle Dun here in New York
land make your will before you leave
this house, appointing me as her guardian
In case anything happens to you."
"I have thought of that. Max?vaguely.
It is kind of you to suggest it.
Will you draw the will?"
"Yes."
"Everything to the child at the age
of 21; yourself as guardian and sole
executor. You know better tlinn 1 do
bow to arrange it."
"Yes."
"I have thought better of the cashier's
checks. 1 prefer to leave no trace
behind me that may be followed. 1
will draw what I need for immediate
expenses. I will give checks to you for
the balance and will draw on you when
j I have selected a place of deposit. The
I securities you will convert into cash
and repurchase others in the name of
Richard Maxwell. They can be forwarded
to me at any time when I need
tlieni."
"What is ttie baby's name?"
"Slit- Ims hoih'. We have postponed
! giving lu?r a iinme because we could
never find one that was entirely pleasinn.
But 1 have thought of that also.
I shall give her n name now."
"Tell me what it is to he."
"My mother was a Lisle; let that be
the name of my child."
"It is a man's name."
"Not necessarily. It may belong to
either; a man or a woman. At all j
events, it suits my purposes. Let her ,
he named in the will Lisle Maxwell,
child not daughter?CHILD of Richard
Maxwell."
"Why that wayV"
"Because I desire it. Lisle shall be
j my son and my daughter in one. and I i
shall is I urate her to he both. She is I
the only child I will ever have. 1 wanted
a son; she shall he my son; I will
rear her as a son. 1 will train her to
face the world as a man would face it.
I will teach her the ways of the world
as a man would learn them: I will instruct
her in all things as a man should
lie Instructed, and until she Is old
enough to know for herself she shall
not discover that she is not masculine.
She shall not know that there are women
in the world."
"You had better cut her throat at
once," said the lawyer grnlHy.
"Max." replied the father slowly, "let
there he no argument or eomineiit upon
anything or concerning anything that
I have decided to do Nothing short
of my own death can alter :i plau that
1 have made."
"Very well What more have you to
say now V"
"Only this: My wife will apply to you
I for information concerning me. You
I will tell her all that is necessary eon
cernlng the arrangements for her income.
You will say that I ratne here
with the child?omitting its name?that
I left instructions with you and that I
went away again without telling you
where I should go. You will instruct
her no further on any point whatever,
and to every other human being you
will be entirely silent."
At 7 o'clock that evening, when the
St. Louis express roneu out or rne station
of the Pennsylvania railroad, the
stateroom of one of the Pullman sleepers
was occupied by a man who was
traveling alone with a little child
which nestled upon his shoulder In
happy content, and a woman who noticed
the child and was attracted by
Its Inanity paused, patted its little
hands and remarked gently:
"What a beautiful baby girl!"
"My baby is a boy, niadaiu," was the
calm reply, and thus was begun the
strange career of Lisle Maxwell.
TO HE CONTINUED.
^Miscellaneous Reading.
TIIBY A ItE JEALOl'S.
Evans iiml Latimer Open Political
Enemies.
J. C. Abernathy, who attended the
Union and Chester meetings for the
Charlotte Observer, wrote that paper
the following interesting summarising
letter from Chester:
There is no danger that the senatorial
campaign in this state will lack
heat, even though Senator McLaurin
should withdraw from the race, for the
notable development in the meetings
here and at Union for the last three
days, aside from the strong denunciation
of the junior senator, was the fact
tnat wnue Dotn are naming wnai iney
consider the common enemy, A. C. Latimer
and John Gary Evans are at daggers'
points, and it would not surprise
men who know the two politicians to
see the ex-governor and the congressman
come to blows on the stand when
the campaign is fairly under way.
Evans is a slender fellow, about 5 feet
10 inches tall, black, sharp features, a
bright eye. black moustache and hair,
slightly tinged with gray, and there is
something about him that will make a
North Carolinian think of Marion Butler
as soon as the ex-governor takes
the stand to make a speech. His political
antagonist, Congressman Latimer,
is recognized as being one of Senator
Tillman's closest friends, and he certainly
resembles the senior senator in
more ways than one. In comparing
the two men as they sat together on
the speakers' stand I made the follow-,
ing deduction: Square the congressI
man's jaws, punch out one of his eyes,
| let him fill his mouth with uuinine and
j to all outward appearances the result
will be a second Ben Tillman. As to
the ability of Latimer as compared
with Tillman I cannot say, for it may
be that he is only following the leader
as Marion Butler followed Col. L. L.
Polk in North Carolina. In fact, his
political enemies term him "one of
Tillman's hands." I can add, however,!
that he has a more pleasant address
than his chief, and would probably ere- '
ate a better impression among strangers.
provided he did not too closely
follow Tillman's style.
These are the two men?Evans and
Latimer?who gave it out by their
words and actions that they distrusted
each other. In assuming his share of
the responsibility for the election of:
McLaurin to the senate, Latimer said
that two evils were offered the people
I _i n. 1 f.,,. tha O.nior- ,,u
I the lessor of the two. John Gary I
Evans was th^ other. At other times J
he referred to Evans in more or less
direct terms, which all South Carolinians
understood. On the other hand
the ex-governor made it plain to his
heaters that he meant Latimer when
he spoke of the action of certain "political
traitors" who had refused to take
note of warnings he had sounded in!
regard to McLaurin. He warned the
people against turning out one traitor
to put in another. Evans has been
out of politics for quite awhile, having
sometime after the expiration of his
term as governor removed to Spartanburg.
where he has been practicing
law. and it was not generally known
until the meeting at l.'niott that hej
would enter the field as a senatorial as-|
pirant. The ex-governor, by the way, j
is the man whose name was formerly!
printed in a Columbia paper tlius: i
"Johngaryevans." South Carolinians
can r?-st assured that should all others I
drop out of the race these two perfor-J
niers alone will be worth the price of:
admission.
I have been asked what manner of
men are these South f'arolinians who
have appeared upon the stump within
the past three days, and in reply T
would say that the majority of them
appear to lie of unusual ability, llut
one in the whole lot that denounced
in one in the whole lot that denounced
him so harshly who could in a joint dehate.
under equal conditions, hold up
his end of the argument with Senator
Mel.auiin. Tillman cannot do it. because
he is not a debater. He is a line
public speaker; but is not in the same
(lass with the junior senator when it
comes to higher-class argument.
Hemphill could not do it because he
has not the brilliancy of the "t'omniereiaI
iJemoi-ral." Kvans cannot handle
Mel.aurin. for lie is not built for that
task, and Latimer cannot do it because
he is too much like Tillman. In fact,
the only man whom I heard on the
stump tiiis week that, in my opinion,
would bo able to 11 o anything with Sen
ator McLaurin in a sensible, high-class, a
clean discussion of issues, is Hon. Geo. \
Johnstone, He is. however, not strictly
up-to-date on political affairs, as he v
says that he has been taking no hand <i
in politics recently. He is not the pro- i:
duct of any political upheaval; but is 1<
a man af ability, education and travel. 1:
and while he made two of the best t
speeches in the three days' meeting, he f
probably did not impress his audience 1
as his utterances deserved, for the ar- e
gument was above the head of the or- I
dinarv attendant upon political meet- '
ings. f
The appearance of Mr. John R Cleve- <
land, of Spartanburg, at Union, to put J!
in a word in favor of the policies ad- .
voeated by Senator McLaurin. was a 'j
brave act. Although not a public \
speaker. he had the nerve to accept an 1
invitation to the enemies' meeting and
tell them a few things, and he received ?
an attentive hearing. He also resem- (
hies a North Carolinan to some extent '
?Dr. Geo. T. Winston?and has the J
general clerical appearance. It is not i
thought by the other side that Senator N
McLaurin had anything to do with Mr. (
Cleveland accepting the invitation to ?
Union.
The greatest need of the South Caro- 0
lina speakers is a new stock of cam- |V
paign jokes. There were put into g
words last week some old fellows a
which Ham used probably the hun- a
dredth time when he spoke in Char- jj
lotte in the campaign of '92. But for v
that m.atter. all the speakers will have j
to get up something different from the v
arguments used for the past three days,
for. as I heard it remarked several times. e
a campaign cannot be fought out en- a
tirely on the abuse of one man or the 11
e
things he stands for. The real purpose ^
of these meetings, however, was not
so much to get the people out as to re- r
ply to McLaurin In the newspapers. ^
The Tillman side is not at all pleased ^
at the space in the newspapers which a
has been given to the junior senator's v
. ....... x. o
u iterances. aim wun a view io gei i >j
"leave to print" replies to him. these | f.
meetings were held. It may not be g
that this was the idea of the local committees
at either Union or Chester: but j
it is that inducement which brought p
out the speakers. t
If North Carolina is to follow the ex- J
ample of this state in treating the mat- p
ter of the disfranchisement of the Ne- g
ero. those Tar Heels who have been j s
longing for political freedom are wish- a
iner for something which will never be | a
realized. It Is a well-known fact that J t
the Negro is not a factor in South Car- v
olina politics, yet for the past three | ^
days nearly all the speakers held up j ^
Negro domination to the people in all ii
its horrible aspects as a warning v
against following Senator MeLaurln.
a
The fact, it was said, that young Ne- s
groes were becoming educated, put t'
white supremacy in danger. Senator t
Tillman said the sword of Damocles
e
would hang over the people of the ^
south so long as the fourteenth and e
fifteenth amendments remained in the a
constitution of the United States, and v
that the race question was only tern- : p
porarily settled. He also warned cot- ! y
ton mill operatives that there was a . fi
probability that they would be expec-j*
t-d to herd and vote with the Negroes ..
: a
if the new schemes were carried out. o
T have always heard that there were ( a
no people on earth who liked politics 1P
better than the people of this state, and j j.
I believe it. These people will stand j u
for hours and listen with upturned J tl
faces and in wrapt attention to a dis- 111
mission of the tariff?the driest talk in t]
the world. They will also take large tl
loses of imperialism and ship subsidy
argument without flinching, and do
without their dinners during the or- '
deals. It would take a regiment of soldiers
to hold a crowd of North Carolinians
together during some of the >|
speeches that were made during this i
continuous performance.
!?
hi
i?r<;*o im?;v\t. |n
I n
i"
Anil tlu? African War Stopped While I u
lie Whipped n (loin] Miik'IIxIi 11
Fighter.
From the Boston Herald.
I"
"Tell you something about the IJoer
>vaf," replied a husky-looking veteran n.
who had just returned from South
Afriea to a reporter yesterday after- ! >-|
in.<>n. "Well, it's hard to know where I ii
i I.
to begin: but If you want a sample of | '
good old Yankee grit, I van tell you of | j,
an incident ttiat comes pretty near bo- | m
ing the limit. And it's true. too. every "
word of it. j [j
"The hero of the yarn." he went on.
"was a young fellow named Joe Haw- '*
kins, who was raised on a ranch in i'
Texas. He had seen a pood deal of c
rough life on the plains, and his reputa- f'
tion for ability to handle his lists, as (J't
well as the undisputed fact that he!,.,
was the best writer and surest shot in k
the regiment had won for him the out- j."
ward respect, at least, of every man in Sj
the Border Mounted rifles, or Border ui
Hnptu MB llin roeimenf wsis more fnml
liiirly knowiu. Just how ho came to ho *
serving In the ranks so far from home
no one knew, but it wasn't considered
healthy to show an undue interest in '
Joe's private affairs, and no attempt |l(
was ever made to solve the mystery. tl
"At the time Joe joined the regiment
there was a big burly, loud-mouthed i,
Knglishman acting as batman to one t;
of the otiicers, who had the name of being
a lighter. I had never seen him ^
liglit:but he was credited with being 2
able to whip any man in the corps,
and several of us American chaps used j
to speculate as to what would happen is
in case of a mix-up between <|Uiet Joe'
ml 'Liverpool Bill.' as the Englishman
ras known.
"Well, we didn't have long to
tait. Things had been running pretty
luiet for some time, and we had nothng
to do but escort convoys for so
ong that we were heartily sick of the
iiisiness, and longing for a brush with
he enemy, when along came orders
or the Border Horse to join Knox's
Iriirade. which was scouring the north
in part of the Orange Free States in
jursuit of DeWet. We came up with
he column about dusk one evening,
iml soon learned that the famous lead?r.
with some 1,800 men, had been lo ated
in the hills that border the Vaal,
ind that an attempt was to be made at
laybreak next morning to drive the
memy back across the Vaal into the
Pransvaal by way of Schulmans Drift,
vhere General French with the pick of
he British cavalry was expected to be
vaiting for them.
The details of the battle of Witt Kop
ire too well known for me to attempt to
(escribe it. It took us nearly three
lays to drive the Dutchmen back
icross the river, and many as good
>oys as ever held a rifle were left dead
ipon the field, while, to make matters
vorse, through some misunderstanding,
General French did not put in an ap>earanee,
and another good chance to
fet DeWet was lost.
"It was toward the close of the secind
day's fighting that the meeting
vhich all knew must come sooner or
ater, between Joe and 'Liverpool Bill'
fiven the position of honor and led the
idvance. We had been fighting hard
ill day, and had finally taken up a poition
on a kopje and were having a
luel at long range with the Dutchmen,
vho were on another kopje some 1,200
ards away. The men on both sides
cere keeping pretty close under cover,
aking advantage of every rock that
ould be used as shelter and not much
xecution was being done. Every time
. man showed himself, on either side,
lowever, the fire broke out with renewd
vigor, and it behooved a fellow who
lad any respect for his life to lie low.
"Now, about 100 yards in front of our
nain body there was a long flat rock
rhich would afford excellent shelter to
mnn Ivlnrr at full ltf?nc*th h^hinrl it
mt there was room for one man only,
nd from its exposed position the place
\as particularly dangerous for any
ne who did not keep well under cover.
'o reach the rock it was necessary to
:o over a clear unbroken stretch of
;round in full view of the enemy.
"By one of tne strange coincidences,
rhich will happen. Joe and 'Liverpool
>ill* started for that rock at the same
nstant, though from different parts of
he line, and reached it after running
he gantlet of a heavy fire at almost
he same moment. Each claimed the
ioint as his own. and neither would
:ive way. We could not hear what was
aid, but we could see that they were
rguing excitedly, while the Dutchmen
/ere taking advantage of the situation
nd were concentrating their fire upon
he exposed men. How they escaped
/ill always remain a mystery to me.
'hat one must yield soon became evient,
else neither would get away alive,
ut both were stubborn and we knew
t. In our anxiety to see the outcome
/e all ceased firing.
"Imagine our surprise when, after* ,
nother moment's talk, botlr men
prang to their feet, pulled off their
unics and began a fistic battle to setle
the matter then and there. The
Hitchmen, seeing the two men fully
xposed. at first redoubled their fire,
ut as the real situation finally became
lear to them they, too, ceased firing
nd came out from under cover to
/ateh the fight. And a hard fight it
/as. too, in full sight of both armies.
'or a long time it was even betting
/ho would have the best of it: but
nally, just as Joe caught the big
:nglishman a stunning blow on the
:iw with his right. 'Liverpool Bill' in
ttempting to dodge, tripped and went
ver backward, striking his head
gainst the rock with a force which
ut him out of business.
"To the cheers of both Dutch and
English. Joe carried his insensible an
ugonist to a position of safety, and
hen. turning to his place behind the
oek. he donned his coat picked up his
ille and with a wave of his hat gave
he signal which once more set the batle
in motion.
"Yes. the old saying is true." finished
he veteran, "one touch of human nail
re makes the whole world kin."
IIONKS OF A HK> INJI V
liijrhc Tlicy Arc Wlint 1m I,eft of the
I-'iiiihiiim llravc Miiwntonun.
A century or so ago some Indians
uried a 7-foot man sit the foot of a
ttle oak tree. Just ten days ago a
lonster oak was cut down at the eorer
of Shelby street and Burnett aveue.
sind yesterday workmen turned
p the gigantic skeleton of a 7-foot
tan. The skeleton was just under
lie roots of the big oak. The body
ad been buried in a sitting position,
iesiile the bones lay the head of a twoound
tomahawk.
Workmen have been pushing Buret
t street through for several weeks,
esterday afternoon the gang under
ontractor Scheencher reached the
not where the big oak stood. Their
lies of operations went just a bit
over than the roots of the tree. A
orktnnn striking in with his pick,
allied out a shoulder blade. The
;-ng gathered and all went hone huntig.
Within a few minutes the c omit-to
skeleton of a gigantic man was
ileal tiled.
An ordinary skeleton might have
een thrown away, but the remains of
7-foot man certainly deserved more
msiderntion. The contractor sent for
oroner Mct'ullough. The coroner
lought the matter over. It was manestly
impossible t?> hold an inquest,
cause no witnesses could lie producI
to testify concerning how the unnown
met his death. This man had
nt died with his boots on, because
out the shape of his head and other
gns it was easy for the learned to
nderstand that this fellow had benged
to a race that did not wear
ots. if he finished violently, it did
ot show on the bones.
After due consideration the coroner
-eided that the unknown man came
) his: fli?!?th ft'nin mi iitiL'thiwii r-'iiKo
nil that what was left of him should
i buried without Ileitis displayed at
if morgue in the hopes that some of
is friends might recognize him.
In an old hook of Western adventres
there is told the story of Masainoh.
tt famous old brave of tremen>us
size, who was killed by two seters
buck of Louisville about J7S?>.
asatonal) is described as being ~ feet
inches tall. The Indian was shot
trough the neck just as he was about
kill a settler who lay on the ground
it.Jer him. Now comes the question,
this the skeleton of Masatonah??
oiiisville < 'ourier-Journal.