Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, October 04, 1907, Image 1
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ISSUED SSMX-WEEKLT.
l. u. grist's sons, Pubiiiter.. } % ^familQ Kttrsjajtr: Jfor <k< fromotion o| th^ political, Social, g.grigoIttti;al and (Kommtirial 3ntfrests of (he jpfojle. {Ig8?oLE wpVfi ce *a,,c*'
ESTABLISHED 1855. ~~ YORKVILLE, 8. C., FRIDAYTOCTQBER 4, 1907. N'O. 80.
*hokthhbi
II _____
FROM THE RQMANTII
THE NOVELIZATIC
CHAPTER Vn?Continued.
"Miss Dorothy, how much do you
think I am worthV
I "Worth?" she repeated, looking up
with a slight sneer. "In your own estimation,
or In that of others?"
"In cold cash.'
At this the little major sat up very
straight Indeed."
f "Look here, Mr. Hlggs," she asked,
severely, "how can that Interest me?"
"Why," 'stammered Hlggs, a little
taken aback, "when a man proposes,
that Is the first thing a woman thinks
about."
J ~~?aIa..0i" ovnialmAH TTnro
UVUU giaciuuo. VAUW....V^ ?
thy,- rising In affected astonishment,
"have you been proposing all this
timer
"Certainly."
"You want to marry' me?"
"If you please."
"Well, let me think," knitting her
brows reflectively. "You're not so bad
looking."
* "Oh, thank you, Miss Dorothy."
"But the manager feared your play
would be condemned."
"The brute had no dramatic Instinct".
- "Your expansion and muscular development
are great," looking him over
critically.
"Oh, thanks, thanks!"
"But I'm afraid you're a little
tough."
"You know hoyv to make me tender,"
bending upon her a killing look.
"I must confess," said Dorothy, I
slowly, "that your wealth is a great {
inducement."
Hlggs smiled broadly. He had been
confident that that would fetch her. '
Then, to his intense surprise, the '
whole expression of the young lady's 1
face changed. She cast aside the half 1
jesting manner she had assumed nttnerto,
and became suddenly very dignified.
"But, personally, I'm afraid you
would be an Incumbrance which I 1
couldn't possibly endure."
And, with a slight inclination of her
head, as if in dismissal, she swept
past him.
For a moment the mortified Higgs 1
stood as if rooted to the ground, and 1
then he started after her with a pi- 1
teous:
"Oh, I say no^r, Miss Dorothy!"
But before he could reach her side, *
some one else stepped between. >
It was Charlie Sherwood, who, un- '<
perceived by either, had entered the
room a few moments before, and now
thought it was quite time to interfere.
"Here, now," he said, roughly, glar- 1
Ing with angry eyes at the man who
had tried to appropriate what the 1
young lieutenant had come to consider .
his own property, "haven't you said 1
about enough? Or, If you haven't
yoq'd better fire ofT the rest outside." I
Higgs drew back in alarm. In spite 1
of his recent boast of his extraordi- '
nary muscles, the easterner had too I
much consideration for his precious 1
skin to risk a personal encounter. 1
He hemmed and hawed, and then to
his surprise as well as that of his ri- '
val, a champion came to his rescue. '
"Charlie Sherwood, how dare you?" 1
It was Dorothy who uttered tnls '
ejaculation, and she was genuinely '
? * K/vHnnl # milf a nnmno. 3
il 11(51 y OllC iril 1IC1 OCIL 4uuc VVIM|^V
tent to manage her own affairs, and '
was not disposed to brook any Inter- 1
ference.
"I thought you above spying." she 1
went on. scornfully.
"Spying?" cried Charlie, Indignantly. J
"Oh, If I've intruded " '
& He paused, and as Dorothy simply 1
shrugged her shoulders, as much as to 1
say that he certainly had, he strode
away toward the door. '
Hlggs, with a grin of satisfaction,
followed, but with excessive care to '
keep at a safe distance. 1
"Yes, sir," he said, aggravatingly,
"you'd better retire. When a gentle- i
man Is proposing to a lady, a third >
party Is quite out of place."
Charlie turned so suddenly and vl- '
clously that Hlggs Jumped back.
"This gentleman has not received his 1
answer yet, Lieutenant Sherwood," '
said Dorothy, with dignity, "and as <
that answer cannot possibly concern
you, why "
"I'd better go."
"Exactly."
"Miss Dunbar." said Charlie, with 1
suppressed rage, "please consider ev- 1
thythlng at an end between us. As
for your pet there," glaring at Hlggs,
"I'll wait for him outside." 1
? And he flung himself out of the
room, slamming the door behind him.
The angry light died away from Dor- 1
othy's eyes, and her rosy Hps pouted
like those of a hurt child.
' But Hlggs was in ecstasies. He fancied
that he now had a complete walk- 1
over, as he expressed It to himself.
' Approaching Dorothy, he said, in
an insinuating and would-be tender 1
manner:
"Look up. sweet one; we are alone!" 1
Dorothy flung up her head.
"Get out!" she cried, sharply. 1
The words were undoubtedly exces- i
slvely unladylike, but they expressed 1
exactly what she meant. 1
"Eh?" muttered Hlggs. starting 1
back In surprise.
"Get out!" she repeated, still more
testily. "I hate you!"'
Poor Hlggs drew himself up with an 1
attempt at offended dignity.
"Miss Dunbar, you have been tri- 1
fling with my feelings."
"Just see what you've done to mine."
with a half sob. "Charlie says It's all
over between us!" 1
"So, then, you are engaged to the <
lieutenant?"
"We?we?were just going to be," 1
she replied, with a sob which this time '
was quite apparent. "But now he'll
never ask me."
"Ah. I see how it is!" exclaimed
Higgs. his face scarlet with mortifica- '
tlon. "You've been using me as a 1
stuffed club to larrup him Into line."
Dorothy, at the end of her sentence, '
dashed away the tears which were
beginning to gather in her eyes.
j * Lights*
C AMERICAN DRAMA.
)N BY A. D. HALL.
"Oh. I do wish you'd go away!"
stamping her foot.
"I will!" replied H4ggs, tragically.
"You Imve lost us both! You have
broken my heart! If there's a spare
horse In camp, I'll buy it and ride out
to my death! Farewell!"
He pulled the door open, but suddenly
Jumped back, and closed It even
more abruptly.
He had seen the lieutenant pacing
restlessly to and fro In front of the
veranda, and evidently doing what he
? #nr Him
nau llireuicucu IU uu, naiiiuB IV> .......
and that with hostile Intent.
Thoroughly scared. Higga remembered
that there was a back entrance
to the house, which led Into the kitchen.
Thinking only of escape, he rushed
past Dorothy, paving no attention
to her surprised question as to what
was the matter, and fled Into the
kitchen.
Dorothy looked after him In amazement,
but only for a moment. After
all, his vagaries were nothing to her.
By her own folly she had lost the one
man she cared for. With a choking In
her throat and a desperate pain at her
heart, she fled to her own room, there
to Indulge in the luxury of a good cry.
CHAPTER VIII.
Id Love's Crucible.
It was later the same evening. That
most peaceful hour of the whole day,
the hour between twilight and daj*k
ness, as Helen Dare and Dan Morion
came slowly along: side by side, on
their way from the hospital.
Helen had been there to Inquire for
the* wounded prisoner, and also to take
a note from Florence Sherwood to
Swlftwlnd; a note which Florence had
exhibited the most intense anxiety to
have delivered without delay.
Helen had been only too glad to oblige
the unfortunate young woman, for
whom she felt not only the deepest
sympathy, but a warm affection as
well. She was so helpless and so unhappy.
As Miss Dare left the hospital she
found the scout, Dan Horton, loitering
outside, and just a faint color tinged
the delicate oval of her cheek as she
caught sight of him.
It was no new thing for her to meet
him when she left the house, either on
an errand, or to obtain the fresh air,
and unconsciously, of late, she had
come to look forward to these encounters.
She believed them to be pure chance,
but Horton could undoubtedly have
told another tale.
In spite of the vastly different lives
they had led, there were many subjects
on which the two were strangely
sympathetic, and they had become
very good friends. Friends? Well,
perhaps friendship is the right word
to describe the sentiment which Miss
Dare felt for the handsome scout, but
It is certain that his feeling for her
was rapidly developing Into something
much stronger.
It Is only fair to Helen Dare to say
that If she had suspected this she ^
would have stopped all intercourse oe- j
tween them at once. But such a
thought had up to this time never entered
her head. She only realized that j
she liked him very much, better than |
any other man at Fort Terry, and that
It was very pleasant to talk to him.
"Do all women take their first proposals
so lightly, Miss Dare?" asked I
Horton, continuing their conversation. '
Helen had been telling him about Hlgg* 1
sbsurb proposal which Dorothy had
Imparted to her, with no promise
whatever of secrecy. '
"She is but a child, Mr. Horton," 1
replied Helen, deprecatlngly. '
Horton looked at her, a strange, in- 1
tense expression upon his bronzed 1
face. 1
"Women are but girls," he said, '
slowly, "who have outgrown their <
aprons. Hearts should not change."
Helen was silent for a moment, her
thoughts reverting, and reverting any- l
thing but pleasantly, to her own past, i
and then she answered, almost as if
speaking to herself rather than to the I
one who had suggested the words:
"We seldom marry our first loves.'1
"Yet," replied Horton, looking at her 1
In a manner which should have be- J
trayed him: but which Helen, absorb- I
ed In her own thoughts, did not ob- I
serve. "And yet, first love Is always
best, they say." I
"Not always!" was the quick, almost i
defiant reponse; and then, suddenly $
remembering herself, she stopped
short, hoping that he had drawn no <
deductions from either her words or |
her manner. <
Horton saw that she was embar- \
rassed, and although he was far from divining
the cause, at once changed <
the subject.
"How Is young Gray this evening?" <
he asked, abruptly. i
"Much better." replied Helen, with j
an Inward sigh of relief that the former
subject was not to be pursued, <
and realizing dimly the consideration ]
shown her by this man who was one <
of nature's gentlemen. "He was about
during the day. His trial takes place |
tomorrow, does it not?" 1
"Yes, If he's well enough." I
Helen, relieved though she was ffiat <
(ho (>nnvprsntinn had taken this new i
turn, was really Interested. i
"And his father, Colonel Gray," she
asked: "what does he say about It?" i
Horton hesitated, knowing full well
what the result would be, and yet ]
hating to confess It to this companion
of the gentler sex. At last he spoke, j
and spoke frankly: :
"Miss Dare. Colonel Gray Is a sol- <
dler. and If It's the sentence of the ]
court-martial he will see his son led |
to execution, without a word."
Helen shivered. This was a devotion
to duty which she could not un- ]
derstand In the least. What woman
could? ;
"Does he not feel?" she asked, i
breathlessly, decidedly revolted. . (
"Soldiers are not supposed to feel," |
responded Horton. emphatically. He i
understood If she dtd not. "But," wit]
perceptible softening, for after all
whether male or female, human naturi
Is about the same, "Colonel Gray lov
ed his son very dearly."
"But," spoke Helen, with a catch li
her voice, "If found guilty will he real
ly be executed?"
Again Horton paused before speak'
Ing. But, somehow, there was some'
thing about this woman that forbad*
him to say to her anything but th<
truth.
"Hardly," he replied, at last. 'It wll
more likely be the pyramids."
"The pyramids?" repeated Helen
with a puzzled contraction of her level
brows, not understanding In th(
least.
"Have you noticed the pile of cannon
balls beside the big guns beneath
the flag staff?" asked Horton, hating
and yet feeling Impelled to give the
inrormauon ror wnicn sne sbkcu.
"Yes," she replied, wonderlngly.
"They are stacked In the shape of
pyramids. Say, a prisoner is convicted
of desertion. A ball and 'chain is attached
to his foot, and he Is placed before
a pyramid of those huge cannon
balls. One by one he is required to
carry them to a spot but a few yards
distant and form another pyramid.
Then, one by one, he carries them back
to the original spot and rebuilds th ...
Then, back and forth, back and forth,
hour after hour, day after day, living
on bread and water and speaking not
a word, the sun and the storm beating
down upon his head while a guard
stands ready to shoot at his head."
Helen stopped short as if paralyzed
by the picture these words conjured
up. It reminded her of the tortures of
the middle ages, of which she had
read In history.
"Oh, horrible!" she murmured, beneath
her breath.
"Horrible!" repeated Horton, his
voice vibrating: with emotion, for once
or' twice he had been unfortunate
enough to see this punishment Inflicted.
"Horrible Indeed! Why, Miss Dare, I've
heard them on the third day cry out
for the guard to shoot them, on the
fourth tear at their chains and flesh In
wild frenzy, and on the fifth led back
to their cells stark raving mad. Horrible!
Death would be preferable a
thousand times!" %
Helen looked at him curiously. Woman
like, for woman is almost always
more Interested In personalities than
she Is in generalities, she was more
struck by the excitement under which
he spoke than by the words he uttered.
"You say soldiers should not feel,"
she said, giving him a keen, swift
arlance, "and yet there Is pity In your
face."
Horton blushed as If he had been
accused of something shameful.
"A soldier Is only human, after all,"
he said, as If he were excusing himself,
"and, being human, he must feel."
Helen made no reply, but much as
she had liked him before, she had never
liked him half so well as she did
now.
By this time they had reached the
steps of the surgeon's quarters.
For some unexplained reason Helen
did not ask her escort to enter, but
she extended her hand to him, which
be took, and, after a moment's hesitation,
raised respectfully to his lips.
Helen, gathering her draperies about
tier, ascended the steps, and, without
i backward glance, vanished within.
But Horton did not go. He lighted
i cigar, and sat down upon the piazza,
aisliking to leave the shrine within
kvhich his divinity was enthroned.
When Helen entered the hall she
found Dr. Sherwood seated there,
busied with a certain number of vials
le had upon his desk.
He started up as she came In and
ldvanced toward her with a look
svhlch no one but she could call upon
lis face.
"Nell!"
She bowed coldly and was about to
pass him by on her way up stairs, but
le stopped her with a passionate gesture.
"Just a moment, Nell!"
She paused and turned toward him.
But there was something: aggressive
n her manner which chilled him to the
aone. If he had not been so blinded
ay his passion he would have known
:hen and there that there was no hope
for him either now or in the future.
But he could not see this, and he went
an pleadingly:
"I want to speak to you."
"Your wife Is waiting for me," replied
Helen, with Icy hauteur; "you
nust be brief."
He struck his hands together in the
intensity of his ardor.
"Why do you treat me so distantly?"
"I am forced to accept your hospitality,"
she answered, and her every
iccent showed how repugnant it was
to her. "Have I appeared ungrateful?"
Oh, the intense sarcasm contained
in these words?a sarcasm so biting
that it pierced even Sherwood's thick
irmor of egotism.
But he avoided any direct answer.
Smarting as he was, he did not dare
to inv himself oDen to anv further
shafts from her tongue, although he
tried to persuade himself that these
ivere launched to protect herself rath?r
than to wound him.
"You avoid me at every turn," he
said, with piteous accusation, "never
illowlng me a moment with you
ilone."
"Your wife has the first call upon
>-our spare moments," she answered,
laying particular emphasis upon the
svord wife. "She Is failing very fast."
"Ah!" and there was something in
tils voice that was not exactly regret,
but rather satisfaction: "you have noticed
that." And then with a sudden
?hange, due to jealousy, which Helen
recognized at once, he added: "Why
ire you so constantly with her?"
"In her company I am free from annoyance."
"Annoyance?" starting as if a blow
had been struck him. "From me?"
"If you will have It so?yes," answered
Helen. She had no wish to
spare him, and she wanted him to unJerstand
distinctly, once for all. Just
how she felt toward him. "Besides, I
have grown to love her, to pity her."
"Pity her? Why?"
"Is not an unloved wife deserving of
blty?" .
"Then take a share of the blame to
yourself," cried Sherwood, driven almost
wild by what he considered her
ibstinacy. "Until you came here,
there was no thought of disloyalty In
my breast."
i "Then I shall leave at once," said
I, Helen, evidently meaning exactly what
e she said.
This announcement drove Sherwood
nearly frantic. His passion for her
l had been growing stronger day by day, t
until now it amounted to something
not far removed from Insanity.
"You shall not!" he cried.
At this moment, Horton, who had
? been attracted by the sound of voices
i raised apparently In altercation, entered
the room.
1 "Each day you have spent beneath
this roof," went on Sherwood, excited,
ly, "brought back to me the happy..
hours we spent together. Nell, Is i
s there no tender memory of the past
In your heart? Have you so utterly
forgotten ?"
i "Utterly," replied Helen, coldly, atr
tempting to pass him. * c
i But Sherwood caught her by the c
wrist. ip s
"You shall not leave me like this!"
! Horton advanced. Even beneath J
I the bronze his face looked pale. ' 1
"Can I be of any service, Miss Dare?" J
he asked, endeavoring to steady his c
i voice. .? s
i Sherwood released his grasp, and c
i the two started apart.
"Do you consider eavesdropping part t
: of your duties, Mr. Horton?" asked 1
isnerwood, flushed with anger at the f
lll.tlm oH intarruntlnn
"Do you consider It a host's duty to r
Insult his guests?" returned Horton, c
' not In the least Intimidated. s
"Hush! hush!" exclaimed Helen In
a low tone of warning with a slight II
gesture toward the stairs at the top a
of which Florence was standing. "
' "Helen! Sidney!" called Florence, '
In a tired voice. "I am so lonely. ^
Won't you come up?" ] ll
"In a moment, Florence," replied a
Sherwood. And then turning to Hor- a
ton. he added in a lower tone, preg- 8
i nant with meaning. "We will attend r
to this matter later, Horton."
"At your own convenience, doctor," a
answered the scout, no less slgnlfl- I
cantly. 1
The doctor bowed and went up the a
stairs to his wife. * 0
"Won't you come, too, Helen?" ask- 1
ed Florence, In the querulous tone of
an Invalid. I
"Yes, Florence, at once." . s
Sherwood and his wife entered the *1
letter's chamber. As soon as they had
disappeared Helen turned to Horton *
with a wealth of entreaty shining from y
her beautiful eyes.
"Promise me." she began, almost 0
breathlessly, "promise me on your v
word of honor not to renew this sub- a
Ject with him."
Horton looked at her as If he would a
plunge his gaze Into her very soul. ^
"What is that man to you?" he asked,
sternly.
"A strange question, Mr. Horton, for *
you to address to me!" exclaimed teel
en, haughtily. 1
"I see you wish to shield him."
"Sir, do you dare " she began,
Imperiously. And then, suddenly e#- ^
memberlng all that was at stake, she
Interrupted herself, to continue In a t
far different tone: "Oh, no! no! no!
Will you not believe In me?"
Believe In her! He would give his a
life to do so; and yet how could what p
he had heard be explained?
"That man has no right to speak
such words to you?" he asked, eagerly.
"No!" she replied, vehemently, ralslng
her eyes unflinchingly to his. "No!
he has no right! Give me your promise!"
"Helen!" called Florence from her
rootn.
"Yes. dear," raising her voice, "I am p
coming." She turned again to the
scout: "Promise!"
. a
Horton hesitated a moment, and y
then, unable to resist her Imploring
gaze, he answered slowly:
"Until we meet again, I promise." h
Helen, with a sigh of relief, seized .
his hand Impulsively. _
. "Oh, thank you! .And, Mr. Horton,
trust me!"
In another moment she was gone. n
Horton went out of the house, his j.
brain In a maze of bewilderment, j,
What did It all mean? That man ^
Sherwood had called her Nell, and had
nn/vlrnn rt# n noof KalwAAn thnm f\f
n|7i/i\un ui a paol ucittccii mciu, a?u ^
a love. And she had tried to shield j
him. >nd then their first meeting. g
when t th had been so deeply moved. ^
Horton groaned aloud. What a blind
fool he had been. But no, there was
truth In that sweet face or he had ^
never seen It in woman's eyes before. ^
Away with all doubts! Yes. through
thick and thin; come weal, come, woe, v
he would trust her! ^
(To be Continued. b
_ d
BOTH WERE TRICKY. h
a
A Bit of Butinesa Between a Merchant d
and a Lumberman. 1
There used to be an old retired mer- ?
chant In Detroit who delighted In recalling
his experiences when an active 8
man running a general store in one of
the northern cities of the lower penin- n
sula. w
"I used to reap a harvest when the
men were coming out of the woods," w
he relates. "They were not up In a
styles, and about any old thing would 8
suit them provided the color was right
and the fit even passable. But there
were tricksters among them, and I e
had to have my wits about me In or- a
der to keep even with them.
" 'How much is that hat?," asked a 1
0
strapping six footer who arrived from
camp one day with a pocketful of
money.
" 'Two fifty," I replied.
"Then he informed me that he al- n
ways had the crowns of his hats
punched full of holes In order to keep ^
his head cool and his hair from com
Ing out. I soon had this attended to, a
and then he asked what the hat was
worth. 'Two fifty,' I responded In surprise,
but he laughed at me for asking
such a price for damaged goods.
He had me and got his hat for $1,
while the Jolly crowd with him had a
laugh at my expense. He wanted to
look at some 'fiddles,' and after pricing '
one at $10 concluded to take It.
"'Where's the bow?' he asked as I
was doing up the package.
"'You only bought the fiddle,' I
laughed. The others saw the point
and laughed too. The giant tried to
blufT me, but I kept good humored
and got even on the hat by charging h
him $1.50 for the bow. I not only got
even, but the others were so pleased e(
with my 'Yankee trick' that they
spent plenty of money with me."?
Detroit Free Press. a
?ltettUaiM0U0 ?tauU?j.
8AW JESSE JAMES TWICE.
A Boy*' Mooting With Two Notod Outlow*.
"Not long ago I met up with young
Jesse James," said a man, the son of
in army officer, who spent his youth
it western army postB. "Young Jesse
ecently came out at the top of his law
:-lass In Kansas City.
"He Is a bright, but singularly tacl:urn
chap?like his dad before him In
:hat respect. He looks a good deal like
Ills father, barring the elder Jesse's
>eard, and this Is a boost for him, for
he outlaw was a handsome man?a
nan who, though he came of stock
ather below the middling, had the
?rved features and many other points
>f the thoroughbred, Including remarkibly
small hands and feet.
"I had two good looks at Jesse
Fames, the outlaw?once when he was
ivlng and the other when he was dead.
Ind, with my younger brother, I was
>nce at the age of 8 the terrified and
ihrieklng victim of a famous member
if the James gang. Wood Hlte.
"That little Incident was an odd afalr.
It was due to that desperado's
nnate cruelty and his hankering to Inlict
torture upon human creatures?
or Hlte was the most reckless and
nerclless devil of the James gang. I've
iften heard It said?that my brother
ind I became pretty good swimmers.
"My brother was 7 and I was only a
Ittle bit more than 8. and we used to
neak away from home to go swlmnlng
In the wicked Missouri river,
vhich flows past Fort Leavenworth.
Then we got down to our regular walowing
spot at the river-side one hot
ftemoon we found a huge, red-haired
nd red-bearded fellow sitting In the
hade of a tree close to the verge, fanilng
himself with his sombrero.
"He spoke to us In an agreeable way
nd we didn't mind him. We stripped
o fool around in the shallow water,
'he red-bearded man watched us for
. while, and then he climbed into an
Id leaky skiff that was pulled up on 1
he river bank.
"'Get in. young 'uns,' he said to us
ileasantly?he had an agreeable
Deaklns: voice when he chose to make
t so, 'and we'll have a little ride.'
We climbed Into the stern sheets of
he skiff, a pair of pleased naked '
oungsters. Without saying a word
he red-bearded man rowed the skiff
ut into the middle of the Big Muddy,
rhlch Is a mile, or nearly a mile, wide 1
t Fort Leavenworth, and the current
i'as as swift as a mill race out there
nd filled with sucking eddies. When
ie pulled the boat to midstream he
Topped the oars, rose, calmly stepped 1
o where we sat huddled In the stern
heets, picked us up one by one and 1
ellberately tossed us over the side of
he Bklff Into the arrowy river,
"Did we swim? Well, you'll observe
hat I am here for one, to show that 1
re swam all right. We had to swim, j
'here wasn't anything to It
"I don't suppose Hlte really meant
o drown us. All he wanted to do was to
orture us. We spluttered and hollered
nd shrieked, but we swam. As we
assed down with the current he plckd
up the oars and followed us In the
klff. .
"We got hold of the skiff and he 1
elped us in. He allowed us to breathe 1
or a bit, and then he threw us over- 1
oard again.
"He repeated this half a dozen times
r more. !
"We whimpered and begged, but he
aid no attention to that. He'd just
Ick us up and chuck us Into the swirl- 1
ig stream like as If we were part of (
skiff load of cobblestones, take us 1
rhen we began to show signs of com-,
lete exhaustion, and then when we'd
ested up In the boat for a short spell, '
eave us overboard again. He got
(red of the sport after about three- :
uarters of an hour at It and rowed us '
shore. 1
"We had, of course, no Idea who the '
tan was. About a month later Wood (
lite, killed by another desperado, was '
nt"<? In tho mnrmiu nttnrhpd to the '
,eavenworth calaboose. My brother 1
nd I knew Donovan, the cop In charge 1
f the calaboose morgue and he took us '
lto the dead room. Donovan took the '
heet from his face, and my little 1
rother and I exchanged chalky looks
rlth each other. He was the man
rho'd been enjoying himself that day
y tossing us Into the middle of the '
tig Muddy.
"When we got out of the dead room
re Immediately began, of course, to I
rag to our boy pals about how we'd <
een In the same skiff with the dead <
esperado of the James bunch, and how <
e had chucked us into the water and <
11 that, and word of it reached my I
ad a few days later, and I suppose the !
wo of us were not whaled to a frazzle t
r anything like that. I
"My brother and I were pretty good i
wlmmers from that time on. The <
orturing outlaw had given us swim- <
ling nerve. We had confidence, for i
e'd had a stiff test.
"It was only about a year after that i
hen I saw Jesse James himself alive i
nd dead, and both times within the j
pace of about a month. <
"At the end of the government mill3
? *? rsaorva Mnn In T .PftVPn worth an -
x-soldier named Jeff Brunstetter kept
grocery. I spent a lot of time hangig
around his store on my way back
a the post from the school In Leavn
worth.
"One afternoon I was corked off on
heap of filled sacks of bran, In the
ear of Jeff's store, reading a dime
ovel?curiously enough the dime novI
concerning the doings of the James
ang?when one of the most striking
>oklng men that I ever saw, before or
fter, strolled Into the store. He was
early six feet tall, and, even with the
ither billowy duster that shrouded
Im to down below the tops of his
purred boots, as straight as a lance,
Ith shoulders so broad that they
eemed almost out of proportion with
He fineness of his waist-line, which
howed where the linen duster wrlnk!d
in at his middle.
"He wore*a big cream-colored somrero.
pushed somewhat back on his
st black hair, and his heavy beard, as
lack as the under side of a raven's
ing, was in curious contrast to the r
Lrange pallor of his skin?he'd been
nder cover for a long time then, and
Is face had bleached out. But the
mn's eyes were what took me, daunt- ?
J and rather frightened me.
"They were extraordinarily large,
ot of the popping kind, but just big
nd perfectly set, and of the most bril- r
llant and flashing blackness. When
the man entered the door he cast those
[eyes about in a quick, roving glance
that took everything in at the one
flash, Including me, the kid on the sacks
of bran. I caught his eye, and I shrank
from the immehse penetration of that
quick gaze, not because the eyes were
essentially wicked, but because of the
Impaling penetration of them.
"Jeff Brunstetter, the storekeeper,
who was casting up some accounts behind
a partition at the rear, came out
when he heard the entering footsteps
of the striking visitor. The black-eyed
man nodded when he saw Jeff standing
there at the bar. Brunstetter look- i
ed like something transfixed.
" You damned fool!' he said to the
man who'd Just come In. and I can recall
how I said to myself that Jeff must <
be a mighty brave man to call such a
looking man as the visitor such a name 1
as that. 'Haven't you grot any sense
at all?' '
"The black-bearded man smiled, and
it was a rather winning smile at that,
and one that reassured me, for I was
still quivering a bit under the balefulness
of the quick and stabbing glance
the man had given me upon entering. '
"It wasn't until I was a man grown 1
that Jeff Brunstetter told me about (
what happened at the meeting, the last
time he ever saw Jesse James. The <
two had been brought up together in 1
Missouri, and James trusted Brunstetter
implicitly.
"They walked to the room back of
the store. James told Jeff that he was <
passing through on his way. back to
his plant In St. Joe, where his wife
was. and had decided to dig up Jeff, 1
whom he hadn't seen for a long time.
From my position on the sack of bran,
I heard Brunstetter expostulating with
the visitor, though I didn't catch the '
words.
"Jeff was really putting It Into James i
for taking such a daring chance as
walking around the edge of Leaven- i
worth when there were a lot of fellows <
about In the district who might rec- t
ognize him from having been by when i
James was putting over bank and train <
and other bold robberies In and around i
Leavenworth. Then James said: <
" 'They're going to get me. Not the
posse people, but somebody. I don't 1
know who. But I've got a feeling, had ]
It for months, that I'm near the cash I
In. Glad to look you over again. Tou t
gave me a good licking when we were <
young 'uns, and I've always liked you ]
for It. Here's something to keep, If <
you want It,' and the outlaw tucked 1
a hand beneath his linen duster at the <
belt line, pulled a cartridge from his <
stuffed leather belt and handed It over ]
to Brunstetter. 'So long. It won't be \
long before you'll be hearing that |
Bomebody has got me.' ]
Drunsieiier puua-puuueu an max
and 'advised James to try to reach the t
west coast and make Australia, where '
he could begin over again on the level
with the bank roll that he had put
away. James shook his head over the
suggestion and. with a grip of Jeffs
hand, strolled carelessly out.
"As he passed me he reached out a
hand and gave me a pat on the head.
At the same time he caught sight of
the title at the top of the dime novel
I was reading?'The James Boys at
Blue Cut,' or something of that sort.
"His Jaw tightened when he'd read
the title and then he shook his head
md sort of smiled grimly, and out he
passed, swishing his riding whip. He
mounted a big thoroughbred sorrel that
was standing without tying across the
street and rode away.
"Something less than a month after
that my mother took my brother and
myself up to St. Joe to spend a couple
of days with a sister, who was attending
a girl's seminary at that place.
Pord killed Jesse James in the tetter's
home on the day after we arrived in
St. Joe.
"The dead outlaw was laid out in a
sort of state in his home, and all of the
population of St. Joe were allowed to
pass by his bier. I got my ears box?d
by my good mother, when I suggested
to her that I wanted to go to the
James house to see the dead outlaw.
But I went all the same. And for the
second time I had the peculiar experience
of recognizing, In death, a celebrated
bandit, whom I had seen and
been touched by only a little while before
when he was in life.?Exchange.
TELESCOPE LEN8E3.
Astonishing Sensitiveness of These
Wonderful Glasses.
With the exception of astronomers,
few persons have any idea of the wonderful
sensitiveness of the lens of a
telescope. These marvelous artificial
syes can be produced only by the ex rcise
of the most scrupulous care in
the selection of the glass Itself, consummate
skill and inexhaustible patience.
The process of grinding and
polishing often occupies several
months. When the lens of a big tel
;scope Is completed, it constitutes one *
)f the greatest marvels wrought by r
-nan. r
An article In the Literary Digest de- 1
icrlbes how the sensitiveness of a lens 8
vas Illustrated by Alvan Clark, the *
jreatest lensmaker America has produced:
S
Mr. Clark walked down to the lens *
ind held his hand under It about two a
'eet away. Instantaneously a marvel- 1
>us spectacle burst Into view. It seem- 1
;d as If the great glass disk had be- 0
;ome a living volcano, spurting forth
lets of flame.
The display was dazzling. Waving, ^
eapln'g. dancing, the countless tongues
>f light gleamed and vibrated; then
Itfully, reluctantly, they died away, t
eavlng the lens reflecting only a pure, .
r
jntroubled llgnt.
What is it? How do you account (i
'or the wonder? were the eager ques- a
Ions. It is only the radiation of heat
ilternately expanding and contracting
he glass. If the hand had been put
ipon the lens itself, the phenomenon ^
vould have been more violent. s
To a person Ignorant of lenses the ^
ilmost supernatural sensitiveness of a g
nass of glass weighing several hun- ](
Ired pounds is astonishing, but to the
iclentlst It is an everyday matter, for
le has Instruments that will register
vlth unfaltering nicety the approach ^
)f a person fifty or a hundred feet
tway.
b
In Stockholm one person In six is t(
i telephone subscriber. q
tir it is estimated that all the inhab- c
tants of the world could stand com- j,
brtably in the space of eighty square
niles. p
PINKERTON ON THE JOB. 1
One of the Famous Detective's
8hrewdest Feats.
"It Is probable that few Buffalo
people know th$t one of the shrewdest
detective feats ever performed by
Robert A. Pinkerton, the famous detective
who died a few days ago, was
pulled off In Buffalo," said the Rev.
Byron H. Stauffer the other day to a
reporter of the Buffalo Expresfe.
"A most remarkable express robbery
occurred at Susquehanna, Pa., in
1886, in which (40,000 sent by the
Erie railroad from New York to its
sfiops in Susquehanna was stolen from
the safe of the United States Express
company at that place. The robbery
occurred on a Saturday night. Bags
containing bogus coin were placed in
?Vn? oafa an that Iho pplmfl WAJ) not
discovered until the next Monday i
morning. Robert A. Pinkerton was
sent for.
"He soon made the discovery that
the Job had not been done In New
York, as at flrst supposed. The bags
were of a kind discarded by the company
six months before. The safe had
been opened by some one who solved
the combination. George Proctor, an
employee of the express company, had
left on Saturday for a two weeks' vacation.
Bob Pinkerton started on his
trail and located him in Buffalo,
where he was risking money freely In
the pool rooms and bucket shops.
"Bob Pinkerton arrested Proctor
and took him to the old Tift House, on
Main street, where, after an hour or
more of the sweating process, Proctor
confessed that two other men
were implicated in the deal?Clutch
Donahue, who was at that time keeping
the Queen's hotel at Fort Erie,
and another man named Collins.
"Proctor promised to lure his accomplices
over to Buffalo from Fort
Erie and put up all he had left of his
Bhare of the robbery as a sort of security
to do the Job. Two detectives
shadowed Proctor for several days,
and finally he eluded them and crossed
over to Fort Erie, where he was
safe because the extradition laws of
that time did not cover robbery caaes.
"Bob Plnkerton did not give up
tiope. He found that Donahue, the
Port Erie hotel keeper, was wanted
In Canada for several bold robberies,
so he crossed the river to Fort Erie
md had a long talk with Donahue.
Be sat up all night with the notorious
Clutch, threatening him with arrest
Py the Canadian authorities unless he
lellvered his pal. Proctor, on American
soil. By promise of immunity
Donahue was finally persuaded to give
up what he had left of his share of
:he $40,000, and to lure his accomplice.
Proctor, to the United States.
"It was agreed that the three men
should start for England for safety.
They were to take train by way of
Montreal for Portland, Me., where
they could ship to England. Collins
ind Donahue were to slip off the
train at the station before the train
crossed the Canadian border into New
Hampshire, and Proctor was to be arrested
as soon as he crossed the line.
"Then Bob Plnkerton planned a
coup d'etat to bag the whole bunch.
With three or four detectives he
warded the train on which the robcers
were riding three or four stalons
before the train came to the
Canadian border. The conductor
igreed to run the train through the
ast station before the border without
itop, so that Donahue and Collins
could not leave it But the two men
clayed a still more clever game, get:lng
off the train before the Plnkerton
nen boarded It and leaving Proctor
isleep In his berth as the train crossed
the line after midnight. Proctor
vas arrested and sentenced to a long
erm in the penitentiary.
"Thomas C. Piatt, president of the
Jnlted States Express company, was <
lot satisfied, however, to let the other 1
:wo men off so easily and carried the t
natter to the Canadian authorities, 1
vhere Clutch Donahue was convicted I
)n another charge and his property at '
j'ort Erie confiscated. *
"Bob Plnkerton was a good hearted <
;hap. After sending Proctor to the ^
jenltentlary he felt sorry for his fam- 8
ly and raised (1,000 for Proctor's <
vlfe and set her up In a little business t
n Pennsylvania, where she is still
naklng a living." 8
Mr. Stauffer was well acquainted 8
vith the famous detective. He first
net him at Olendale, Mo., about flfeen
miles from St. Louis. Mr. Stauf'er
was at that time nineteen years 1
)ld, a cub reporter on the St Louis
Chronicle. A big robbery occurred at
he little town, and Mr. Stauffer went 1
>ut to cover It for his paper. Bob 8
Plnkerton went to the scene of the t
obbery on a special locomotive. Mr. 8
Jtauffer tried to get aboard the engine s
ind was refused. He boarded an ac- 8
rommodation. Something happened v
o the special locomotive, so that Mr. c
Jtauffer arrived at the scene of the I
obbery as soon as the detective. They t
ode back together In the same train a
o St. Louis, and the acquaintance v
tarted there was maintained between ii
hem for many years. t
"As I remember him," said Mr. t
Jtauffer, "he was a tall man with "
>road shoulders, a bulldog face, and n
in exceedingly silent man who Inher- A
ted all the courage of his famous 4
ather, Allan Plnkerton, the founder n
if the famous detective agency." a
o
THE BLACK SCOURGE. a
n
'Hat Fearful and Mystic Visitation of e
Olden Days. a
The plague or pestilence, that mys- |,
erlous and fearful visitation which e
ias moved its hosts in the wake of g
rmies to slay more than war ltselt, u
3 supposed 10 nave rirst ungiiuticu e
mong the dense masses of people who v
rowded together In the great cities v
f Asia and Egypt, or who formed the d
ncampment8 of Xerxes, Cyrus and s
"amarlane the Tartar. It probably n
prang from the Impurity which must *
iave existed in the midst of such vast
atherings, and in part also from I
saving the unburied dead upon the
eld of battle. At any rate, the germs ?
f this fearful human poison have c
lways been most active -where con- ^
itlons similar to those have prevail- jj
d. It has always been war and the t
larch of armies that have spread It a
roadcast over the world from time ''
o time, and as war became less fre- j,
uent and less worldwide the frequen- a
y and extent of these ravages have Jj
issened also.
The first recorded outbrettk of the ^
lague in Europe occurred 3n the six- v
teenth century. It came from lower
Egypt. This was the first lapping of
the wave that reached Into the east
igain, there to stay Its movements, so
far as* the west was concerned, until
>44 A. D., when the returning legions
>t the Emperor Justinian brought it
igain Into the western world from the
>attleflelds of Persia. Constantinople
vas the first place it attacked. Here
n a single day as many as 10.Q00 per10ns
are said to have fallen victims
:o it. But the plaglie did not stop
vlth Constantinople. It had found a
oo congenial boII in Europe, which
vas little else than one great battleleld
at the time. It was carried into
3aul, where it followed close in the
vake of the Franklsh armies, and
'rom Qaul it moved into Italy, with
he Lombards, and so devastated the
sountry as to leave It entirely at the
nercy of the Invaders.
The various crusades, which extend>d
over a period of about 200 years,
10 doubt did much to hold the pestlence
in Europe, for they served to
ceep open the channels of intercourse
>etween the east and the west Perlwits*
anMnmlna wapa onmmnn HnHnff *
heir continuance, and these seem to
lave culminated In the fourteenth
:entury with what is known In hlsory
as the black death. The black
leath was more fatal to human life
han any other single cause since the
vorld began. The havoc of war was
lothlng In comparison to It. It swept
he whole of Europe, leaving in Its
jeth such misery and destitution as
he world has never known. It killed
n three years some 26,000,000 people.
Such figures stagger the comprelenslon,
but the records of the time
:annot be doubted. The entire popllatlon
of Europe Is estimated to have
>een about 100,000,000, kept down as
t was by the constant warfare, and
>f these at least a fourth'perished.
The ravages of the plague In Italy,
vhere it came in the track of the war
>f the Quelphs and Ghlbellines, was
)artlcularly disastrous to mankind.
:t raged with terrible fury in Naplea
vhere 60,000 persons are said to have
lied. It fell upon Pisa, and seven out
>f every ten perished. It utterly and
'orever destroyed the prosperity of
llena. Florence also suffered severey,
while 100,000 of the inhabitants
>f Venice were literally wiped off the
ace of the earth. From Italy it raov>d
into France, where the mortality
va8 almost as great. In Paris alone
>0,000 people died from it One of
he worst features presented by the
listory of the black death was the
:ruel persecution It aroused against
he Jews. They were supposed to
iave infected the air In some mysterl>us
manner, and they were accused
>f having poisoned the wells and the
iprlngs. In Strassbu?g 2,000 of them
vere buried alive in their own burial
rround.
The order of the Flagellanto arose
it this time, coming from the belief
hat the sins of the world had at last
brought down the wrath of heaven.
!t was the beginning of the so-called
lundred years' war that carried the
>lack death Into England, where In
^ondon its victims numbered 100,>00.
When at last the plague
tad worked its ravages It doubled
tack over Its course to dlsap>ear
In the east. Later on it ap>eared
again In England, first among
he soldiers of Richmond, after the
tattle of Bosworth Field, and when
he victorious army marched to Lonlon
the plague went with them to
vork its havoc there. As long as it
asted the mortality was as great as
hat caused by the black death half
i century before. Five thousand peo>le
died In five weeks, and then the
>lague left London as suddenly as It
tad appeared there to sweep over the
est of England.
In Scotland the plague of IBM
:ame immediately after the battle of
Jangside, when Queen Mary was de
hroned, but no records of the mortalty
it occasioned seem to have been
preserved. The plague visited London
n 1675. This followed after the civil
var which ended with the death of
Charles II., but so many years Intervened
that it is impossible to trace
iny connection between the two
ni? in modern wars dansrer from
he plague seems gradually to have
essened perhaps as a result of better
lanltary conditions maintained by the
irmles of today.
NATIONAL ANTHEM.
There Should Be No Tinkering With
the "8tar 8pangied Banner."
It seems that the true national anhem
must be an "occasional" poem,
ays ^cribner. Allegorical abstracions
will uc do. France has had
everal national hymns since thfi Marelllaise
marched up to Paris. But
he still marches to the strains of
t'hat Carlyle calls "the luckiest muslal
composition ever promulgated."
}erhaps Rouget de 1'Isle's lnspiraion
was as much poetical as musical,
?nd the lesson of his unparalleled
ogue seems at any rate to be that it
a an event and not an abstraction
hat Alls the requirements of a nalonal
anthem. Forseythe Wlllson
abstracted." and quite in the grand
aanner, the essence of our civil war.
md yet you cannot precisely see mule
lan s "setting" the abstractions,
nuch less multitudes singing the
ame. The "Star Spangled Banner,"
n the other hand, celebrated an event
.nd an event which the patriotic
nuse oould hardly have been expectd
to celebrate, being an episode of
bout the most inglorious campaign
i which the American arms were
ver engaged. And the "Star Spanled
Banner*" has Just become "acttal,"
by the assumption of certain
durntnrs fa rillmlnate those of its
irords which seenn to be Incompatible
rith the present Anglo-American unlerstandlng.*'
These educators conidered
that British susceptibilities
night be touched by (the statement
hat
lo refuge could eare the hireling and
slave
i*rom the terror of flight or the gloom
of the grave,
Ithough neither of those fates was
xactly that of the British force which
aptured Washington, what time the
Lmerican "politics" were In fact conounded,
and American tricks, knavsh
or otherwise, were in fact frusrated.
But militant Americanism has
.risen in its might, insisting that hireIng
and slave shall not be deleted,
,nd that the attempt to delete them
s Anglomanlncal. The attempt does
,t least look rather puerile. It is a
nore serious trouble with the "Star
Ipangled Banner," considered aa &
tational anthem, that the average
American can neither remember the
yords nor manage the tune.