Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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f ISSUED SEMI-WEEKL^ l. m. geist's soks, Pubu?her?. } 3 ^atnilg fleirsjiaper: J'or (he promotion of the {political, Social, ghflricoHnral, and (Eomroeiirial gntgr^ts of the feople. { term^-^oo^ ie^in advakos. ESTABLISHED (855. YORKVILLE, S. C., TUESDAY, OCTOBER 13, 1903. 3STO. 8'2. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAi I Gfie SKI < < 3 By BALP1 J Autt J "The Man Fr M "Glengarry School Da J Copyright 1899. by FLEW 3 TITTffffTITTTTffTITITTTF CHAPTER III. THI COMING OF THX PILOT. f y t IE was the first missionary ever I I seen In the country, and It ngnon was the Old Timer who named Uggyfll him. The Old Timer's advent to the foothill country was prehistoric, and his Influence was In consequence immense. No one ventured to disagree with him, for to disagree with the Old Timer was to write yourself down a tenderfoot which no one, of course, cared to do. It was a ? Itv Hmn aaiiIH PO? LL11B1UI lULltr nuiw uuij uuiv vv?. .. pair to be a newcomer, and it was every newcomer's aim to assume with all possible speed the style and customs of the aristocratic old timers and to forget as soon as possible the date of his own arrival. So it was as the Sky Pilot?familiarly the Pilot?that the missionary went for many a day in the Swan Creek country. I had become schoolmaster of Swan Creek, for in the spring a kind Providence sent in the Mulrs and the Bremans with housefuls of children, to the ranchers' disgust, for they foresaw plowed fields and barbed wire fences cramping their unlimited ranges. A school became necessary. A little log building was erected, and I was appointed schoolmaster. It was as schoolmaster that I first came to touch the Pilot, for the letter which the Hudson Bay freighters brought me early one summer evening bore the inscription: THE SCHOOLMASTER. Public School, Swan Creek, Alberta. There was altogether a fine air about the letter. The writing was in fine, small hand, the tone was fine, and there was something fine in the signature? "Arthur Wellington Moore." He was glad to know that there was a school and a teacher in Swgn Creek, for a school meant children, in whom his soul delighted, and in the teacher he would find a friend, and without a friend he could not live. He took me into bis confidence, telling me that though he had volunteered for this far away mission field he was not much of a preacher an<J be was not at all sure that he would succeed. But he meant to trv. and he was charmed at the pros pect of having one sympathizer at least. Would I be kind enough to put in some conspicuous place the Inclosed notice, filling in the blanks as I thought best? Divine service will be held at Swan Creek In at o'clock. All are cordially Invited. Arthur Wellington Moore. On the whole I liked his letter. I liked its modest self depreciation, and I liked its cool assumption of my sympathy and co-operation. But I was perplexed. I remembered that Sunday was the day fixed for the great baseball match, when those from ' Home," as they fondly called the land across the sea from which they had come, were to wipe the earth with all comers. Besides, "divine sarvlce" was an innovation in Stfan Creek, and I felt sure that, like all innovations that suggested the approach of the east, it would be by no means welcome. However, immediately under the notice of the "Grand baseball match for 'the pain killer,' a week frotn Sunday, at 2:30; Home versus the World," I pinned on the door of the Stopping Place the announcement: Divine service will be held at Swan Creek, In the Stopping Place Parlor, a week from Sunday, immediately upon the conclusion of the baseball match. Arthur Wellington Moore. There was a strange incongruity in the two. and an unconscious challenge as well. All next day, which was Saturday, ana, inaeea, uuriug iuk lunumug week. I stood guard over my notice, enJoying the excitement it produced and the comments it called forth. It wus the advance wave of the great ocean of civilization which many of them had been glad to leave behind?some could have wished forever. To Robert Muir. oue of the farmers newly arrived, the notice was a harbinger of good. It stood for progress, markets and a higher price for land, albeit he wondered "hoo he wad be keepit up." But his hard wrought, quick spoken little wife at It's elbow "hooted" his scruples and. thinking of her growing lads, welcomed with unmixed satisfaction the coming of "the meenjteter." Her satisfaction was shared by all the mothers and most of * * * flat 1 m-t\on hllf hr TUP miners in iuc sciuvincui, uu^ the others. and especially by that rollicking. roistering crew, the Company of the Noble Seven, the missionary's coming was viewed with varying degrees of animosity. It meant a limitation of freedom in their wildly reckless living. The permit nights would now. to say the least, be subject to criticism; the Sunday wolf hunts and horse races, with their attendant delights. would now be pursued under the eye of the church, and this would not add to the enjoymenf of them. One great charm of the country, which Bruce, himself the son of an Edinburgh minister and now secretary of the No tiAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAlAAAAlAi r pilotI ========== p i cowon. ? tor of p o m Glengarry" J ys" SkOrJ "BUck Rock" IING I. RE YELL COMPANY rffTTfTVfVVVTVTVTTTVTTTTTTt ble Seven, described as "letting a fellow do as he blanked pleased," would be gone. None resented more bitterly than he the missionary's Intrusion, which he declared to be an attempt "to reimpose upon their freedom the trammels of an antiquated and bigoted conventionality." But the rest of the Company, while not taking so decided a stand, were agreed that the establishment of a church institution was an objectionable and impertinent as well as unnecessary proceeding. Of course HI Kendal and his friend Bronco Bill had no opinion one way or the other. The church could hardly affect them even remotely. A dozen years' stay In Montana had proved with sufficient clearness to them that a church was a luxury of civilization the west might well do without. Outside the Company of the Noble Seven there was only one whose opinion had value in Swan Creek, and that was the Old Timer. The Company had sought to bring him in by making him an honorary member, but he refused to be drawn from his home far up among the hills, where he lived with his little girl Gwen and her old half breed nurse. Ponka. The approach of the church he seemed to resent as a personal injury. It represented to him that civilization from which he had fled fifteen years ago with his wife and baby girl, and when, five years later, he laid his wife in the lonely grave that could be seen on the shaded knoll Just fronting his cabin door the last link to his past was broken. From all that suggested the great world beyond the run of the prairie he shrank as one shrinks from a sudden touch upon an old wound. "I guess I'll have to move back," he said to me gloomily. "Why?" I said In surprise, thinking of his grazing range, which was ample for his herd. 1 "This blank Sky Pilot." He never swore except when unusually moved. "Sky Pilot?" I Inquired. He nodded and silently pointed to the notice. 1 "Oh, well, he won't hurt yon, will he?' "Can't stand it." he answered savagely; "must get away." "What about Gwen?" I ventured, for she was the light of his eyes. "Pity to stop her studies." I was giving her weekly lessons at the old man's ranch. "Dunno. Ain't flggered out yet about that baby." She was still his baby. "Guess she's all she wants for the foothills, anyway. What's the use?" he added bitterly, talking to himself after the manner of men who live much alone. I waited for a moment, then said, "Well. I wouldn't hurry about doing anything.' knowing well that the one thing an old timer hates to do is to make any change in his mode of life. "Maybe he won't stay." T * * ?AAffanlv "Thof'fl nt UUII^UI tti Iiiia cagEii;. *- ? so! There ain't much to keep him, anyway." And he rode off to his lonely ranch far up in the hills. I looked after the swaying figure and tried to picture his past, with its tragedy: then I found myself wondering how he would end and what would come to his little girl, and I made up my mind that If the missionary were the right sort his coming might not be a bad thing for the Old Timer and perhaps for more than him. CHAPTER IV. THE PILOT'S MEASURE. "w* T was Hi Kendal that an1 nounced the arrival of the missionary. I was standing vSaSiJ at the door of my school, watching the children ride off home on their ponies, when Hi came loping along on his bronco in the loose jointed cowboy style. "Well," he drawled out, bringing his bronco to a dead stop in a single bound, "he's lit." ' "Lit? Where? What?" said I, looking round for an eagle or some other flying thing. "Your blanked Sky Pilot, and he's a beauty, a pretty kid?looks too tender for this climate. Better not let him out on the range." Hi was quite disgusted evidently. "What's the matter with him. Hi?" "Why. he ain't no parson! I don't go much on parsons, but when I calls for one I don't want no bantam chicken. No, sirree, horse. I don't want no blankety-blank pink and white complected nursery kid foolin' round I my graveyard. If you're goin' to I bring along a parson, why, bring him with bis eyeteeth cut and bis tali feathers on." Tbat Hi was deeply disappointed was quite clear from tbe selection of the profanity with which he adorned this lengthy address. It was never the extent of his profanity, but the choice, that indicated Hi's interest in any subject. Altogether the outlook for the missionary was not encouraging. With tbe single exception of tbe Muirs, who really counted for little, nobody wanted biui. To most of the reckless young bloods of tbe Company of tbe Noble Seven bis presence was an offense, to others simply a nuisance, while the Old Timer regarded his advent with something like dismay, and now Hi's impression of bis personal appearance was not cheering. My first sight of him did not reassure me. He was very slight, very young, very innocent, with a face that might CAMP SCENE AT LEXIf do for an angei, except for tne touch of | humor in It, but which seemed strange- i ly out of place among the rough, hard l faces that were to be seen in the Swan i Creek country. It was not a weak face, I however. The forehead was high and 1 square, the mouth firm, and the eyes i were luminous, of some dark color? 1 violet, If there is such a color in eyes? 1 - **'-~ *a V*la ] areamy or spanning, a^uiumg iu uu mood; eyes for which a woman might find use, but which in a missionary's head appeared to me one of those extraordinary wastes of which nature is sometimes guilty. He was gazing far away Into space infinitely beyond the foothills and the blue line of the mountains behind them. He turned to me as I drew near with eyes alight and face glowing. "It is glorious!" he almost punted. "You see this every day!" Then, recalling himself, he came eagerly toward me, stretchlug ont his hand. "You are the schoolmaster, I know. Do you know, It's a great thing! I wanted to be one, but I never could get the boys on. They always got me telling them tales. I was awfully disappointed. I am trying the next best thing. You see, I won't have to keep order, but I don't think I can preach very well. I am going to visit your school. Have you many scholars? Do you know, I think it's splendid! I wish I could do it." I had intended to be somewhat stiff with him, but his evident admiration of me made me quite forget this laudable Intention, and as he talked on without waiting for an answer his enthusiasm, his deference to my opinion, liis charm of manner, his beautiful face, his luminous eyes, made him perfectly irresistible, and before 1 was aware I was listening to nis piuus iur wuimu^ bis mission with eager Interest. So eager was my interest, indeed, that be- ' fore I was aware I found myself ask- ' lng him to tea with me In my shack. j But he declined, saying: "I'd like to awfully: but, do you know, I think Latour expects me." 1 This consideration of Latour's feel- ' Ings almost upset me. ' "You come with me," he added, and 1 I went. ' Latour 'welcomed us with his grim old face wreathed In unusual smiles. ' The Pilot has been talking to him too. 1 "I've got it, Latour!" he cried out as j he entered. "Here you are." And he broke Into the beautiful French Cana- 1 dian chanson "A la Claire Fontaine," ' to the old half breed's almost tearful delight. "Do you know," he went on, "I heard that first down the Mattawa," and away he went into a story of an ex- i perience with French Canadian rafts- < men, mixing up his French and Eng- i lish in so charming a manner that La- t tour, who in his younger days long ago ] had been a shantyman himself, could hardly know whether he was standing \ on his head or on his heels. ( After tea I proposed a ride out to see ( the sunset from the nearest rising t ground. Latour, with unexampled , generosity, offered his own cayuse, j Louis. t "I can't ride well," protested the , Pilot. , "Ah, dat's good ponee, Louis," urged , Latour. "He's quiet lak wan leetle , mouse; he's ride lak?what you call? , ?wan horse on de rock." Under , which persuasion the ponij was accepted. i That evening 1 saw the Swan Creek ! country with new eyes?through the 1 luminous eyes of the Pilot. We rode 1( up the trail by the side of the Swan till we came to the coulee mouth, dark < full ryP i ?UU iUIl VI III J OIU1J . "Come on," I said, "we must get to the top for the sunset." He looked llngeringly Into the deep shadows and asked, "Anything live down there?" "Coyotes and wolves and ghosts." "Ghosts?" he asked delightedly. "Do you know, I was sure there were, and I'm quite sure I shall see them." Then we took the Porcupine trail and climbed for about two miles the gentle slope to the top of the first rising ground. There we stayed and watched the sun. take his nightly JGTON COURT HOUSE plunge Into the sea of mountains, now dimly visible. Behind us stretched the prairie, sweeping out level to the sky and cut by the winding coulee of the Swan. Great long shadows from the hills were lying upon its yellow face, and fur at the distant edge the gray tiaze was deepening' into purple. Before us lay the hills, softly curving like the shoulders of great sleeping monsters, their tops still bright, but the separating valleys full of shadow. A.nd there, far beyond them, up against the sky, was the line of the mountains -blue, purple and gold, according as the lfght fell upon them. The sun had taken his plunge, but he had left behind him the robes of saffron and gold. We stood long without i word or movement, filling our hearts ivlth the silence ?and the beauty, till :he gold in the^west began to grow 11m. High above all the night was stretching her star pierced, blue canopy and drawing slowly up from the ?a3t over the prairie and over the sleepmg hills the soft folds of a purple haze. The great silence of the dying day nad fallen upon the world and held 11s fast. "Listen," he said in a low tone, pointng to the hills. "Can't you hear them area the?" And, looking at their curving shoulders, 1 fancied I could see them slowly heaving as If In heavy sleep, and I was quite sure I could near them breathe. I was under the spell of his voice and his eyes, and nature was all living to me then. We rode back to the Stopping Place ,n silence, except for a word of mine now and then which he heeded not, ind, with hardly a good night, he left me at the door. I turned away feeling as if I bad been in a strange coun:ry and among strange people. How would he do with the Swan '"in rmiifi ho moUo them L/lCCtt lvia i vvutv* mv see the hills breathe. Would they feel is I felt under his voice and eyes? What a curious mixture he was! I ivas doubtful about his first Sunday, ind was surprised to find all my iniifference as to his success or failure ;one. It was a pity about the baseball match. I would speak to some of the men about it tomorrow. Hi might be disappointed in bis appearance. but as I turned into my shack and thought over my last two hours with the Pilot and how he had "got" old Latour and myself I began to think that III might be mistaken in ills measure of the Pilot. TO BE CONTINUED. An Indian on Whisky. A sturdy plea for prohibition is that made by Jim Barnett, a full-blood Z!reek Indian, in a letter to one of the ;\vo newspapers in the Indian Terriory printed both in English and in indian dialect. Under the caption, 'What an Indian Thinks About Whiscy," some old truths are tersely and jffectively, if crudely, stated. Whether >r not one agrees with the assumption :hat "whisky is a fine drink, and it ?cems like everybody likes a drink," it s impossible not to be impressed by :he force of the following homely illus:ration: "I know whisky is a murderer ind a robber, too, and it takes all the money from a man. When a man goes :o town and tells his wife he is going :o get Such things, and so his wife vould depend on him and also his chilIren, but when he gets back he would je drunk and his wife's feeling is hurt ind also his children, because he come 3 TVilo foil 11Q lome aruiik. uuu uiun.^. j. i>w ? he whisky is a bad thing." Barnett's )bservatlons are founded on experience. 'I used to drink whisky myself," he :onfesses, "about twenty-five years igo, and I quit ever since." The larger part of his advice is cunningly con:rived to appeal with greatest force to :he pocket: "Well, my friends, don't :ouch no drink and save money, and fou will get rich. And so, I never seen i whisky drinker fail to get poor and stay poor for all his life." This dark Poor Richard, besides stating the proilbitionists' case succinctly, offers good naterial for those who are working for a "dry" state when Oklahoma and :he Indian Territory get into the Unon, whether as one commonwealth or :wo. It is a pertinent question he propounds when, after confessing his >ld fault, he hopefully adds: "And if n-erybody, too, was like me, wouldn't t be good?"?New York Post. ON THE OPENING DA\ [By?Courte?y^of New^York World.] ittbcrllaiirmts i'ratUni]. ! J. H. TILLMAN ON THE STAND, j The Defendant Telle His Own Story of the Killing. Col. J. H. Tillman went on the wit- i ness stand in his own behalf late J last Thursday afternoon and remained , there during the greater part of Friday. His testimony was In answer to 1 questions from counsel. He was care- J ful and deliberate in all he said, and \ comported himself throughout with but < little show of excitement. His kaowl- 1 edge of law and the rules of evidence j seemed to stand him in very good s stead, and the manner In which b?3|ot ' around and amende'd testimony that . was apparently damaging seemed to Indicate not only how well he had i kept up with the case of the prosecu- ] tion; but a great deal of shewdness in y taking advantage of every circumstance that could be made to count In 1 his own favor. During Thursday afternoon the de- \ fendant's testimony dealt mainly with 1 the relations between the deceased and , himself for some ten or twelve years \ previous to the killing. He told of a s controversy he had with Gonzales J while the latter was correspondent of j the News and Courier, and while he himself was studying law in Winns- * Iboro. He became responsible for some pretty hard things that were said about uonzaies in me wuuwuuiu ^ per, on account of some alleged mis- f representations of his uncle, B. R. Till- < man, by Gonzales, and because of this 1 controversy, Gonzales had succeeded ( In preventing his admission to the i South Carolina club. He told of having sent a verbal challenge to Gonzales ' to fight a duel In Georgia, and also re- j counted how Gonzales had occasion for 1 further enmity on account of his, Tillman's newspaper statements about ( Gonzales's failure to get a government appointment for which he was a can- 1 dldate. He disclaimed ill feeling ' against Gonzales; but insisted that ( Gonzales had pursued him at every 1 turn until the persecution began to J prey on his mind. He denied that he } had ever made any direct threats j against Gonzales; but claimed that i everything that he had ever uttered } in the nature of a threat, was contingent first on aggression at the hands 1 of Gonzales. 1 The preliminaries were recited dur- j ing Thursday evening. The circumstances relating to the actual killing were not * reached until Friday morn- j ing. We reproduce the story as told by t the special correspondent of the New J York World: \ "Mr. Tillman, you heard the reading i of the editorial about cancelling the ^ invitation to President Roosevelt to s deliver the sword?" asked Col. Croft, a chief counsel for the defense. "Did s you do that and why?" c "You will recall the unpleasantness r on the floor of the senate between Senator Tillman and Senator McLaurin," { Tillman answered. a "Senator Tillman on account of be- I ing the leading Democratic member on a the committee on Naval affairs, I a think, was invited to the White House t to attend a reception or dinner in hon- ' or of Prince Henry of Prussia, and the i president withdrew the invitation to t Senator Tillman oil account of that ( fight. And I took it that it not only insulted the state of South Carolina by r insulting one of its senators, but he z was an uncle of mine. The first a thought of withdrawing the invitation \ came from some of the subscribers." 1 "Have you anything to regret in < what you did about that?" c Would Like Another Chance. e "No, sir. In the light of after events, I only wish I could get another t chance." ( "What do you mean by that?" "Well, after he got to dining with Booker Washington and appointing Negro officials in Charleston"? i "I object to that," said Col. Bellin- i ger, of the prosecution. e "That is going too far, Mr. Croft," f declared Judge Gary. "This examina- \ tion is permitted to show the unusual t malignity on the part of the deceased j toward Mr. Tillman. I don't think r this shows that at all. It is injecting ( into this case matters which ought not r to be admitted." r Tillman said, resuming his story: \ "Mr. Gonzales's feelings toward me s were intensely bitter. I knew that, though, before the sword incident oc- I r OF THE CIRCUIT COU ;urred. He made that a pretense for i new opening. He had as much trenoni as a rattlesnake. If I kept a scrap-book of all Mr. Gonzales said about me It would take a cart to haul it." Says Terrell Attacked Him. Referring to the testimony of C. J. Terrell, one of the prosecution's witnesses, who testified as to threats made against Gonzales by Tillman, and tvho said he was a friend of Tillman's, :he witness said: "He published a severe article in his paper, the Johnston Monitor, during my illness at Hot Springs. 1 was a lelegate to the State Democratic contention, but could not go on account >f my Ill-health, and it was while I was sick. When I returned some of my friends showed me the article, and tor three or four months after that, me ind Mr. Terrell did not speak. I would lardly take into my confidence a man who had fought me as bitterly as he lad." In explaining the pistol seen in his oom at the hotel on the morning of January 15, the day of the shooting, as iestifled to by J. Span Dowling, a State witness, Tillman said: "I borrowed it the night before about dusk. My pistol was broken, ind after those threats and all on the part of Mr. Gonzales I did not feel that it was safe for me^to go unarmed. [ went there to the hotel and told Mr. (Vllliams?I never did call Mr. Gontales's name to Mr. Williams as well is I recollect?but I told him some irmindrei had threatened my life.' I :hlnk was the language I used, 'and s iere Is my pistol broken, and I would Ike to borrow yours.'" "And you got It that afternoon?" isked Col. Croft. Would Have Stayed at Hotel. "About dusk or dark," was the aniwer. "I told Mr. Williams I had to jo down to Wright's hotel on some oficial business to see some gentlemen, otherwise I would have remained at :he Caldwell hotel." "When you sent Tillman Bunch to :arry that pistol back, do you know ivhe'her he delivered it at that time?" "He did not; Mr. Williams was not n his room." "When you left to go to the state louse Tillman Bunch was in your oom?" "Yes, sir." "Whose pistol did you get to go lown from the state house?" "I borrowed Tillman Bunch's pistol. Well, on the 15th, the day of the shootng, before going uptown, as well as I ecall. I walked over to the house wing o see some one, and when I got back [ met Wyatt Aiken, who was in the irmy with me and- we have always oeen warm friends, and chatted with lim. He was talking to Mr. Frazer Lyon?I think that is the young man's lame; he is now his private secretary, ,vas then one of the clerks in the senite. "I saw Senator Talbird and Senator 3rown about to go down the steps, ind I spoke In a loud tone of voice ind told them to wait a few moments ind I would go with them. Found the Other Pistol. "When I left my room at the state louse I found this other pistol I had he day of the shooting, and I had >ne in my pocket, a 38-calibre Colt's, is well. We went on out of the state louse, myself and Senator Brown and Senator Talbird, as before stated, valking down the street across the itate house ground and up Main street, ind just before I got to the transfer Nation I noticed Mr. Gonzales some listance down the street, looking at ne very intently. u "I had my gloves in my left hand? e lid not have on my gloves that day o it all?and my overcoat was buttoned, t rtrm'i think Senator Talbird had on S in overcoat at all. It was a compar- a itlvely warm day, not to say warm, b )Ut sort of medium weather. Senator a Talblrd was talking. He was on my eft and was talking something about v he nature of a joke, I believe about t 3ov. Sheppard. n "Just as I got across on the pave- I nent, walking along?we were walking ilong leisurely?Mr. Gonzales was t valklng along rapidly; his overcoat ii vas tightly buttoned, but his hands in o lis pockets, and I never took my eye f iff of him, nor did he take his off s if me, and when he started to cut t icross the pavement toward me the"? v At the request of his counsel, Till- b nan put on the overcoat he wore on C he day of the shooting. The witness t ontinued: b Reached Back For Pistol. "This is the pocket I had the pistol n when I saw Mr. Gonzales," lndicat- h ng the left coat tail pocket. "I reach- v ;d back there and cocked my pistol. I z lad my gloves in my hand. We were s valklng down together, Senator Tallird, Senator Brown and myself, and t ust before we got on the pavement, I a lotlced Mr. Gonzales had just passed Congressman Aiken and Fred Domi- n lick. He was coming down the street t< lext to the curbstone. We three were c valklng about In the middle of the t ildewalk, as near as I can recollect it. fi "Just before Mr. Gonzales got to me le cut across toward me. I said, 'Mr. fRT NOW IN SESSION. ^4^ Gonzales, I got your message,' and Ired. .. "When he started to cut across the -vq vorMunt tnwflrrt mP hifl OVGrCO&t Wftfl Ightly buttoned up and both his hands vere thrust in his overcoat pockets. The thumbs of both of his hands were jutside of his overcoat pockets until le started to cut across that sidevalk, coming directly toward me, and hen the thumb of his right hand disippeared in his pocket; and it happened almost directly in three or four jeconds after that I was expecting to ihoot and I said, 'I got your message ind fired. Did Not Mean "Message." "I was unfortunate, perhaps, in c&llng it a message. What was in my nind was the conversation he had at he state house with Capt. White and Hr. Holzenback. That is what I neant when I spoke of a message. "I expected instantly to be shot lown. We were watching each other is intently, sir, as any two men ever vatched each other in their lives. Afer I Bhot him. Senator Talbird sprang n between us and threw up, I think, lis left hand and said, "?his thing has rot to stop right here?' lie looked at ne and looked at Mr. Gonzales. "Mr. Gonzales came on past me to he corner; he never did take his lands out of his pockets. I did not ire a second time because Mr. Gonzales did not return my fire. I was expecting him to. "When I fired I did not know wheth>r the pistol had worked or not, and I hrew the barrel over on my overcoat ileeve, and I was expecting Mr. Gonzales to fire on me and was fixing to ihoot again. He did not fire and I ook down my pistol." "Mr. Gonzales has said in some of lis dying declarations that he said to rou, shoot again, you coward!' Is hat true?" asked Col. Croft Says Remark Was Not Mads. "I regret to say it is untrue," the vitness answered. "Nobody else who vas around there ever heard such a . emark. Senator Talbird w'as the nany who was closest to him of any>ody. "I did not go anywhere Immediately ifter ? shot Mr. Gonzales passed on >y me to the corner of the transfer itation and went around it a few feet ind seemed to stop and hesitate, and hen he turned around and came back o the corner and faced down Main itreet looking in the direction of the State office, and I immediately thought vhat was in his mind and I thought I vould be attacked from that quarter, ind that is what made me side-step off he side-walk. I did not want to be hot in the back. "I had my pistol by my side watchng Mr. Gonzales and the State office. had heard about that omce Demg l kind of arsenal. Policeman Boland, Iressed in. citizen's clothes, came up ind asked me what was the matter. I old him I had shot Mr. N. G. Gon;c!es. He told me that he would have o place me under arrest, and I went ilong quietly with him. I told him here was 110 need to arrest me. Did Not Want to Be Butchered. "Boland wanted me to give up my >istol, but I told him I did not want to >e butchered up there, as I did not ;now who my friends and enenies were. He said he would protect ne, and I gave him the pistol with rhich I had done the shooting, which still had In my hand. "As I was being taken to the stalon-house Judge Buchanan, my ?rother-in-law, came running across he state house grounds toward me ery much excited and came rushing ip saying he was unarmed. He wantd to borrow the pistol I had turned wer to the policeman from him. Afer I had been moved to the Jail J. ipan Dowling did call on me, and I sked him where Mr. Gonzales had ieen hit. I was very anxious to know bout it. "1 did tell him that if I struck him rhere I aimed I had killed him, but he truth of the matter Is that I did lot aim at all. He was not hit where thought I was pointing my pistol." In giving his version of the shooting he defendant recited the happenings n his room on the night of the close f the campaign at Columbia, as testltn hv fnlo Rloaqo nno c\t hln rnnn el, yesterday. He did not contradict he testimony of Dr. E. C. L. Adams, rhom he characterized as "one of the ilghest toned young men in South Carolina," but maintained that his hreats always were contingent upon lis being attached by Mr. Gonzales. Heard Attack Was Planned. He said he had heard the operaiouse was to be packed the night he ras to speak there, and that Mr. Gonales had planned that he, Tillman, hould not leave it alive. Tillman told of having been warned iy friends that Mr. Gonzales intended ttacking him. On cross-examination by Col. BelInger for the prosecution, he admited that at different times he and Jonzales had become friendly since he unpleasantness resulting from the irst anonymous publication by him in [Continued on Fourth Page]. A