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I " ISSUED SSMI-WBBKL^ l. m. grist's sons, publishers. j %. jfamiln Jlfirspaper: Jor the jlromotien of the political, .Social, Agricultural and Commercial Interests of the ffoplt. {TKRs^,iA. c *jrw K established 1855. YOltKVILLK, S. C.. FRIDAY, MAKC1I t:t, 1t)08. NO.ai. nil >??i hi in >i THE M : 0' 1 I By CLARENCE CHAPTER IX. The World vs. the Jury. The strange news flew from tonf?u? to tongue in the early morningr: "Gilbest Senn is arrested for murder;' "Gilbert Senn is accused of having killed Constance Graig:" "Gilbert Senr resisted the officer who came to aiTest him." No one knew who Constance Craig had been, where she had died, nor how nor when, nor why. No one knew uhothor shp had lived In America, oi half way round the biff world from Roomvilie. No one knew whether it was pistol shot, or knife, or poison which had taken her life. No one knew whether she had been younff or old handsome or homely, good or bad. No one could say whether Senn had killed her because she wouldn't be Mrs. Senn killed her because she wanted to be Mrs. Senn, or killed her for some such impersonal reason as the love of money. No one knew anything: about the matter?except that Gilbert Senn killed her! The citizens of Boomvllle were very few indeed?outside the churchyard which held "the silent majority' ?who were not quite satisfied in their own minds that Senn was guilty. They had little reason, of course, no more than the accusation which is all too often taken as proof, when men fall?or are said to. But. after all. they had known Senn. sober, industrious, honest, for only ten years: behind that knowledge lay a past of which they knew as little as?as little as they knew of Constance Craig. Only ten years! Can the leopard change his spots? Can a man who has made crime a trade live a consistent life for oniy len jews. Can a man who has been a true and noble gentleman for ten years deliberately go down to a level deeper than hope has ever sounded or salvation iejwhed? Can he? Reader, with all this mystery and doubt before you, do you know the manner of man Gilbert was? Did God ever set the wrong face, the wrong sign and seal of character, over any human soul? A The citizens of Boomville. with exceptions of course, were quite certain that Senn was guilty, and that Prier was a hero?a hero and a wonderful man., With exceptions, I said. There were exceptions. Donald Barron was not certain that Glibert Senn kfled Constance Craig. Poor old Donald Barron, with his white hair, and his cold, sunken face; he had no word to say about it all?no word of comfort for his daughter, coming into the room where he lay in the silent dignity of death, crying out in hoteyed. tearless pathos that her lot was more that she could bear. Walter Aldrich did not believe that Gilbert Senn killed Constance Craig. T * i - ~ n man mitrht "1 1 can HIiilKUir nun (v iiiuii '"-n--r do it," he said, passionately to himself, but he was thinking of the treasure of Elsie Barron's love, and of the way in which Senn had made her his wife, when he said that. For Aldrlch had not heard of Senn's connection with the robbery; he had no idea that Senn had done aught else than win her through her affections; and the blessing of Elsie's love semed so great?so far beI yond any earthly good of which he could think?that he could half forgive the treachery which he believed had been quickened into being by a desire as great as his own. t "I know he did not?could not?do it." he said, when he thought of the crime of which Prier had accused his once friend. And whatever else he might or might not think?however much his thoughts dealt with a strange past?however much with a dark and clouded future?however bitter they might be?he had nc more to say that morning, even tc himself. For marriage: "I?I can imagine how a man might do it." For murder: "I know he did not?could not?do it." Elsie Barron-Senn was sure that Gilbert Senn was guiltless. She had no ver> good reason for her belief, perhaps. Sh< would have given a woman's reason had any one pressed her for a reason at all Gilbert Senn was guiltles, because? with a pause?because he wasn't guilty! Woman's reason! Woman's wonderful Instinct! Higher than logic. 01 the needs of logic! We may laugh, scof scorn: we may say our measures cannot determine it. nor our systems ex plain 11: no mauer. i nr umu mw ever had a woman's love or a woman's i1 friendship knows that she had a powei of prescience?a faculty of unreasonet cognition?which is as true as existence, and as inexplicable. Elsie Senr felt very sure that her husband had noi k killed Constance Craig. And J. B. Brier? What of him? Elsie Senn might have found a new reason for her negative belief, and a better one from a mere masculine standpoint, in Brier's affirmative one. thar she yet had. if she could only hav< known that Brier knew that Senn musi be guilty. The truth was, Brier wa.' very doubtful. He would have told yoi t that he had arrested Senn "on suspicion." "On suspicion" is a very convenient term. So. you see. Senn had a very fair minority of doubters. Bet us count them: I Walter Aldrich. whose promised brid? he had taken from him. Elsie Senn, whom he had forced t< marry him. J. B. Prier. the great detective wh< had arrested him. And?and I am sure there were four. And I am sure I did not count deat Donald Barron. And?and?I remember now: Lurline Bannottie knew that Oilber Senn did not kill Constance Craig! The trial of Gilbert Senn came 01 > very speedily. Mr. Brier urged the au thorities forward in every way possi ble. and was angry and impatient a iuu.i>u>iiii.ny>uu.?uiuiUMiki[y 1 - - 1 I f S BOUTELLE. I v [ S nnnwrw ummnii m m mm 111 i r every delay. Senn or his friends might. I undoubtedly, have secured a postponement for a time, lasting at least until > the "nine days' wonder" which his ar- ' rest had caused, had in a degree subsided. But Senn sat in his cell with ' downcast eyes and drooping form, evi1 dently full of a dull apathy, and caret less of his future and his fate. And h where was the fiiend who cared to help y f him? h He learned from the jailer the pop- ? ' ular conclusion which had been reached u " regarding him. He had money; Mr. fl i Barron's business had suffered; he had s t offered to help the banker past the crii sis in his affairs on condition that Elsie j, ' became his wife; Mr. Barron had con- y , sented; the girl had been forced to i yield; that was the story which was I generally believed in Booinville. Senn \\ , cared little for what they said about s him; he was willing they should say ^ i what they would?believe what they y would?so they did not learn the real > reason for Elsie's marriage with him; ^ I and. since his arrest and incarceration k ! on the charge of murder, he was not h so particular to have his connection c ' with the bank robbery kept a secret as he had been. The jailer not only told him all about fl ! the conclusions at which the citizens of Boomville had so easily arrived, but >*< he informed him that there were many who believed that the money he was supposed to have had had been stolen from murdered Constance Craig. ^ Senn heard of Donald Barron's burl' al. To look at the prisoner's face, one tl would have found it easy to believe ^ that he had loved old Donald Barron? loved him in spite of any wrong he had ir done him and his house. There were t< surely tears in his eyes as he looked at X the jailer and listened to his narrative; ]f there was surely a weak quaver in his voice as he replied. But he heard tl of Elsie's wild grief, and he smiled; ^ Gilbert Senn was not in love with the <3 woman who had cost him so much?so I much?and who was likelv to cost him ir more. . n The trial came on speedily, as I have n said. One day Gilbert Senn knew that a he had been indicted; that night he knew that tomorrow he must face trial. But he barely looked up while he was s< told of what was to come; he let his tt head fall forward upon his breast again ?he looked down and not up?it seem- b ed as though he had forgotten his dan- w ger and forgotten what had been said. A The jailer had grown to like Gilbert Senn. It may be that the authorities tl and instruments of the law's vengeance tl ' always learn to like those of their pris- a' , oners who are quite, docile, orderly, >' and who cause them no extra care nor alarm; it may be that men always like Vl those with whom they become familiar. A' I do not know. I cannot say. It is It certain that the jailer had learned to like the accused. Perhaps because the w U{" nn/1 nnrlor Vtieldl IfllUW Mils iu.-> (Iiimiuct, auu >...uv. ..... control. Possibly?because the man e< was Gilbert Senn. tf "You have no lawyer?" asked the jailer. "\o. I suppose the court will assign me one." "You have made no arrangements for o( having witnesses called in your behalf?" v "No; I shall need none." V "Surely you will not plead guilty?" v Senn rased his eyes then. He had s1 not looked up before during the inter- Vl , view. There was a look upon his face which seemed a stranger there. s< , "I shall plead 'not guilty,'" he said, h , "for I am not guilty. But I am outside , hope?outside pity?outside any chance s' , for a future. They may hang me; no tl . matter. I?I " f< His gaze was no longer fixed upon w L the jailer's face. He had given up w . hope, no doubt. Sl , There was a letter for Senn that H > evening. a "Mrs. Senn's companion, or friend, or ? . whatever she calls herself, sent it." I said the jailer. Gilbert Senn had never seen her, ex- a cept as she walked in to see him mar, ried. and walked out and intruded her, self into the carriage with him and his I newly wedded wife. To him she was ' an unknown quantity In the problem of life?a veiled figure, with graceful movements, but with an utter blank where the woman's face should be. He had little interest In her; he believed w f she had worked for him. rather than against him. when Elsie's fate hung in the balance, weighing- itself against her c , father's future: he scarcely knew why , he placed her on that side in the con- s r flict?he did place her there, almost c j instinctively. She probably knew nothing regarding his connection with the c t bank robbery: she had only urged El- P . sie to avert, by her consent, a disaster of which the adviser understood neither the nature nor the remedy. So Senn had little interest in his wife's companion. What interest he had was connected with Elsie. He v t opened the letter very leisurely and * very indifferently. (* t There were three bits of paper with- ^ in. Senn read them in order. This d j was the substance of the first, dated 13 that day. and evidently written by a person laboring under intense excite- c ment: n "Mr. Senn: I shall offer neither ex- " planation nor excuse for what I am '' about to do. If my help and my warn- s ing are of use?it is well: if they are f. ? not?it is wen. waiter Aiancu wm . cotne to see you this evening, and I know what his errand is; no matter 1 how I know; it is enough that I do know. j. Mr. Aldrleh has been here since your marriage. He has sent one note K to Mrs. Senn?to your wife. He may v have sent more; I have reasons to v think he has not; no matter what my c ^ reasons are; I have them. "I inclose the note Mr. Aldrich sent. " I inclose it copy of the letter Mrs. Senn c sent in reply. 'A word to the wise* is v t all I intend. Lurline Rannottie." It was treachery's hand which had v sent these letters, these communications c i between Walter Aldrich and Elsie c - Senn, and the strange letter of expla- s - nation which did not explain. Treach- r t ery and cunning, were written in every t ine?not concealed nor hidden, but ' taraded and boasted of. The letter < uirt Senn; had he been a free man it | night have hurt Miss Lurline Bannotie as well. But 1 What does the proverb say? 1 "Drowning men catch at straws!" ! "Straws!" No more. No less. The < lord is unqualified. I suppose it would ' nclude rotten straws as well as others. ] Senn put Miss Bannottie's letter?the t Irst message from the outside world j i hich had come to him without even a emblance of friendliness in it?in his j iocket. 1 He opened Walter Aldrich's letter ( lext. < It was not a long letter. It did not ay much. If, however, the wrter had i mown that Mr. Senn would see the { ?tter to Mrs. Senn, it might have been -c horter and have said still less: i "Boomville, Nov. 9th, '70. 1 "Mrs. Senn: The gossips are very ( usy with your name and mine since our marriaee and the arrest of your usband. They say, among other 1 hings, that you were not a willing 1 ride?that your marriage was forced t pon you, or that you were unfairly inuenced. I confess that I did not think 1 o this morning, though I thought you t houid have known me too well to think e hat I would hold your promise bindig if you found some one for whom ou cared more than for me. I do not 1 now what to think tonight; will you \ elp me to think aright? x "Are the gossips right? Are they ,'rong? "Are you happy, despite the cloud * rhich now rests on the character of l he man whose name you bear? Or are ou miserable? "I love you still. I always shall. If p our marriage was not of your choosig, there is hope for divorce. Let me ^ now the truth; let me know how much elp you need?how much hope I may c hertsh. Ever yours, r Walter Aldrich." r Gilbert Senn tore Aldrich's letter into t -agments, and tossed them aside. 1 He opened the copy of Mrs. Senn's * ?ply: ^ "Boomville, Nov. 9th, '70. ' "Mr. Aldrich: I have no explanation 8 > make regarding the causes which >d to my marriage with Mr. Senn, nor ^ hall I ever have. Regarding that mat- f >r I shall do no more than assert again le fact with which you are already imiliar. I am the wife of Gilbert l enn. g "Talk of divorce is utterly useless in ly case; 1 shall take no legal steps a )ward removing the bonds which I r oluntarily assumed. You must never Int at such a matter again, either by 'tter or in person. "I shall be glad to see you at any a me?as a filend. If you come, you 1 lust remember that the past is a for- r idden topic while Mr. Senn lives. s houid I outlive the man whose name K bear, and should you desire to say s gain to me the most pleasing things } i your letter, you will find the widow ?ady to hear that which the wife may ot listen to. Until then. I am no more s nd no less that your sincere friend. \ "Elsie Barron-Senn." ,, Senn tore up that letter also, and e mattered Its fragments as he had scat- a rod those of the other. s "A love letter in disguise," he said, fitterly; "and what a letter! A letter v orthy of the writer?worthy a fiend! r bid for my blood! A premium on my v eath! She cannot bring herself to t link of divorce; she cannot go through s le labyrinth of legal ways to freedom t ad love; but she can go?and go glad- t ?across my grave!" v And Senn's judgment was good? s ery good. It was a letter worthy a a end, good reader, and a letter worthy t s writer! o The jailer opened the door. Senn v as sitting in his old disconsolate, rooplng mood again. He had destroy- p 1 all the letters, but he still had them g > think about. t "A visitor for you," said the jailer. s "Yes. Let him come in." r Walter Aldrich entered the cell. u Senn did not look up. Neither one h ITered his hand to the other. s "t huve eome to offer mv legal ser ices in your defense. I understand mi have secured no lawyer as yet. v fill you give me the privilege of c ;anding between you and the law's s engeanee?" v Senn did not look up. He muttered \ jmething to himself, far too low for s is visitor to hear: 1 "If she outlives the man whose name f he bears, and you desire to say again F le things in your letter which she r Hind most pleasing, you will find the idow ready to listen to that which a ife may not hear. Well?well. And t o you dare not?dare not O God! v lave I mistaken him so? After all, a? t Such a traitor as that would de- a erve no better." He spoke aloud: f You may defend me." I "What will be your line of defense?" sked Aldrich. e "You are the lawyer," replied Senn; i how should I know?" j "Don't be foolish. You will plead t lot guilty'?" f "I am not guilty." t "You will have witnesses?" c "I know of none." "You signed some paper which Prler c ill use?" "I did." "If he threatened you, you may deltrtu Itatncy Hrnirwl Kv He topmc " "I shall not deny my signature. I * hall admit all I signed, and take the onsequences." "I shall study this case carefully, as arefully as the information at my disosal will allow." "Thank you." "But I may fail." "Yes; you may. Good night." "Good night." Senn did not look up until Aldrich ' /as gone, not until the jailer had shot he heavy bolt into its place in the oor of his cell. Then he sprang to his eet, dashed himself against the iron oor, and wept as though he were a roken hearted child. "i Ml, Ainncn, Aiuriun, ne cneu, uuw an you? how can you? Why did you iot kill me that day in the bank? Why . ere you not brave enough to take my ife with your own hand? Or, better till, why did you not leave me to my ate under the heavy engine-wheels, en years ago?" ******** Gilbert Senn was brought into court, le was heavily ironed. He was well uarded. There had been some talk rhich had worried the authorities, ieak, foolish, irresponsible, talk, of ourse. but even cowards and fools may [o mischief which the wise and brave an never undo. Senn's guards were ratchful?very watchful?and a close bserver would have noticed that they ratched Senn less than is usual In the 1 ase of a man charged with a capital 1 rime. They took off his handcuffs as oon as he was fairly inside the court 00111. They evidently half expected ' hat something serious would happen. rhey meant that he should have a fair :hance for his life if anything1 did happen. But Senn was taken quietly, and without difficulty or interference, to the prisoner's place. He had nothing more *erious to face than hard looks, cold? stern?unsympathetic. Perhaps because 'it is the unexpected which always tiappens;" perhaps because those who ;alk most bravely are usually cowards it heart. But Senn did have a cold welcome? x very* cold welcome. There' were men in :he court room whom he had befriend;d, who now looked at him with hate or listrust?or did not look at him at all. There were men and women who had mown him for long years who had let i few days of doubt and need outweigh ill of his past which they knew. There vas little of kindness or encouragement 'or him anywhere, in any face, as he entered the room. Naturally enough, he looked for cerain faces; naturally enough, in his terible extremity, it was individual hought and feeling which he desired oread in the countenances before him; laturally enough, for the great crowd, is a whole, he cared nothing. The first person upon whom his eyes estod was his wife. Elsie Barron-Senn vas pale, very pale, and looking even vhiter than she really was because of he deep mourning which she wore. She looked straight into Sena's eyes as le came up the aisle between the rowded seats, but she gave him no imile, no nod, no look of recognition. "I think her haughty indifference lurt him. I am not sure that a smile, ir any other token of interest, would lot have hurt him more. Sena said >n*ktnn> tr\ Himself* Ipt US not ry to interpret his thoughts as he ooked squarely into the eyes of the voman who was joined to him by bonds vhlch could not be broken until "so ong as ye both shall live," should be i thing of the past. It was a relief when his wife let her 'ell fall between him and her beautlul, pale face. Walter Aldrich was the next one seected hy the restless eyes of Senn from imong the many in the crowd. He rose is the prisoner nearly reached the dace to which he was being conductid, and said a few quiet words of died I on?to the guards. His face was is pale as Mrs. Senn's had been: he ooked at Gilbert Senn, hut he spoke 10 word and did not appear to see him. Senn was given a seat. Aldrich took a eat near him, but he turned away his lead. Senn looked anxiously over the asembled throng. There were faces rhich he missed. He could scarcely eallze that he should look vainly, for vermore, for the face of good old Donald Barron. "Does he know? Can he ee? Is there a smile on his face, up in leaven, for me?even for me?" he rhispered to himself. But faith could lot reach high enough, imagination ^as not strong enough, to.compass a ask such as his agonized question had et before his mind and soul?his train and heart. He only thought of he grave and of death and of decay, rhen he thought of Donald Barron; he hivered in the overheated court room, s he thought how cold and heavy were he clods which rested that morning m the pulseless heart of the man rhose face he so much missed. Gilbert Senn looked for Miss Durline iannottie. There was no lady near Mrs. >enn, though he had expected to see he two there together. He had never een Lairllne Bannottle's face; he had lever heard her described: he did not ;now whether she was light or dark; ie scarcely knew?though he was co-ncious that he ought to?whether she ras short or tall, stout or slender. But Giblert Senn had a belief that he rould know her, know her under any ircumstances and wherever he might ee her?this unknown woman who had written him so strange a letter 01 earning. and who must be a peculiar ort of friend to her in whose home she ived. Senn looked eagerly, anxiously, everishly; there were many women >resent?young and old, pretty and >lain, women who were merely curious -women who were merely indifferent ?women filled with that cruel thirst for >lood which is a remnant of the days vhen our ancestors were a disreputable lorde of prehistoric savages. But imong them all Senn did not find the ace which quite filled his ideal of Lurine Bannottie. He found the face of J. B. Prler, the yes looking as though they were gazng deeper than the surface and readng his soul, and^he?he alone of all here?he, whose accusation he had to ace and whose skill was to be made o prove him red-handed if skill could lo it?he had a smile for him. Another look for Miss Bannottie, who sould possibly smile at him also. A vain search! Miss Lurline Bannottie was sick that lay. Not very sick. Not sick enough o need a physician. Only a headache -a nervous headache?or something of hat sort. Only something which kept ler away from the court room, somehing which kept her from the side of ler dear iriena Jiasie &enn, sometning vhlch demanded the utmost quiet and reedom frorn exci.tement. Not serious. )h, no. Not serious if she could be left o herself, and to undisturbed repose. \ sudden shock, a subpoena as a witless in the case of the State vs. Oil>ert Senn, for instance, might have enlangered her lfe! So Senn came to his trial without mowing1 whether her welcome would lave been a smile?or a stare. He came to his trial with only one clnd look?and that from the man who lad sworn vengeance upon the murlerer of Constance Craig. Perhaps it had not needed the fact hat he had waived a preliminary eximination: possibly it had not been necessary for him to be committed without bail. Or. it may be that these two 'acts had had weight. Be that as it nnv an anxious crowd was wnitiner 'or the trial of Gilbert Senn. Waiting1 to know who Constance ?raig had been; waiting to know tvliere she. lived, how and when and ,vhy Senn killed her. Beyond those 'acts?why have a trial? Tinder the ircumstances?why have a jury? The nultitude scoffed at the forms of law, it its exactness?its dignity?its deays. For the question had heen setttled. The World had decided that Senn vas guilty. To be Continued. PfettHatiffU* fading. EXPLORED TIBET IN SECRET. Remarkable Journeys of the Pundit A-K. The survey of India has produced in its annual report the portrait of the greatest of native Indian explorers. He was known to geographers for years as the Pundit A-K. His identity was not revealed as long as he was likely to be employed again In the exploration of Tibet, where no white man or East Indian was permitted to travel. 1 When he became superannuated I the government gave A-K a grant of i land and other rewards for his re- < markable services, and since then he I has been known as the Pundit Krish- 1 na. The story of his wanderings for nine years In a forbidden land, even < U'llDTl I*-* a nlntn otxrlo f\? 1 Tf 11VI1 1UIU III LUC piailli Ul J Oljric * official reports, reads like a romance. f Tl'iere was not a waking moment when he was not acting a part. Hern on the frontier of Tibet, he could talk the language of the country like a native, and this was his one great advantage. He traveled always as a Tibetan, now as r?. merchant with a considerable stock of goods, then as an itinerant pedler, again as a Buddhist devotee reciting sacred verses from hamlet to hamlet, and on two or three occasion^, when necessity compelled, he secured employment as a herder of she^p and goats. If his secret had been discovered his jlife would have paid the penalty. He "was in peril many times and was occasionally arrested and detained as a suspicious character, but he always hacia straight story to tell, and the trutjh was never known till he was living in the retirement and peace which he had earned. Hhi greatest mishaps were that rob-M bers despoiled him twice of nearly everything he could use in paying his way. Otherwise he never met with any personal ill treatment, and the reports he made are remarkable for the absence of any expression of animosity against those who did him hurm. The Indian government thought It politically of great importance to learn more about the vast closed country to the north, in which were hidden the resources of three of the greatest of India's rivers?the Indus, the Sutlej and the Brahmaputra. So the government trained a number of Hindus who gave promise of becoming intelligent and skillful observers and taught them the arts of exploration. They learned how to make route surveys and to determine heights nnd latitudes. It was strongly impressed upon them that they must keep an unbroken record of the bearings and distances on their routes from place to place and also determine a few latIt^les. With this information a fairly accurate map might be made of their travels. They were to obtain distances by counting their paces. This is a very tiresome thing to do. but the Pundit A-K kept it up for practically every step on his journeys through Tibet. Sometimes he was so well to do that he had two or three horses to carry his trade goods, and the people thought it astonishing that they never saw him riding. Once he was clapped into jail by the governor of a district who thought him worth watchl"g. Ho was released through the good offices of a lama, or Buddhist priest, who had seen him before nnd thought him the humblest and most devout man he had ever met. The lama invited the Pundit to his monastery, 60ft miles away, through an unexplored region, and the explorer had to ride a horse to keep up with the party. He counted every pace of his horse, kept up all his scientific observations, end no one was the wiser. The way he contrived to lull suspicion all through his four great journeys was very effective and ingenious. He managed mutters so that the more scientific work he did the larger grew * his reputation as a Tibetan of remarkable sanctity. As he walked his lips were always moving and it was evident that he was praying. Appearances are deceptive, for he was merely counting his paces under his breath. He was always fingering his Buddhist rosary and every minute or so he would drop a bead. This act did not record another prayer uttered. but one hundred paces walked. And then the Tibetan prayer barrel was always slung over his shoulder, the instrument that places a prayer to the credit of the devout person every time he revolves it. But the barrel was packed with tiny field books and surveying instruments, and no one ever thought of looking in so harmless a place for anything contraband. Thus the rosary and the prayer barrel were of much practlcal'service as surveying instruments, and their constant use gave the explorer an air of the highest respectability and propriotv It was necessary at one time for \ him to travel about 200 miles In com- e pany with a party, and this was the t only occasion when he did not dare to \ take any observations for latitude or t heights or to use his surveying instru- s ments in any way. It was near the end c of his last and most remarkable jour- i ney when he had in his prayer barrel | the results of about four years of in- r cessnnt field work, and all would be ( lost if he had any serious mishap. He ? dared not run the risk. t On his last journey the explorer ^ spent several months in Lhasa and ( collected a great deal of information t about the holy city which enabled the [survey of India to print the first detailed account of this centre of the Buddhist faith since Fathers Hue and Gabet wrote their famous book in the middle of the last century. These two descriptions of the city contained about all the modern information available till within two or three years of the recent British invasion of Tibet. While lie was in Lhasa the pundit studied the sacred books of the Tibetans and committed a large number of | passages to memory. He found later, when his funds failed completely, that it was a great advantage to be able to I quote voluminously from the sacred writings. The bits of coin he received as he recited verses in one village after another helped him on his way. All his resources were exhausted a few weeks before he ended his career in the field, but by means of these reciatlons and earned enough money to help him over the Himalayas to his home. His friends had not seen him for four years and a half, and as few of them were in the secret of his work It was generally believed that he was dead. One rumor gave uneasiness to the survey department, for it was reported that he had been seized by the Lhasa authorities, who had cut off his legs to prevent him from making any further explorations. It Is not intended here even to outline the geographical work he did. It Is enough to say that in his four journeys he surveyed 1.7f>0 miles of Tibet, if which 2,800 miles were surveyed in :he four years during which he made his last journey. All his explorations were In the eastern half of Tibet. He crossed the great plateau twice between north and *outh, penetrated Mongolia, surveyed ong rotues from the latitude of Lhasa :o the Chinese border, and made Lhasa >ne terminus of his various routes, mmething that no other explorer was ?ver able to do. When the pundit and his servant eaclied the Indian border on the last lomecomlng they were emaciated with heir hardships, ragged and destitute, mt they felt triumphant, for they had wrought home every instrument they lad taken away and preserved every lournal and field book. None of his iretheren In the survey equalled the ;xplolts of A-K and he is counted imong the leading explorers of Tibet; lut he had his limitations like his felow surveyors. Many have supposed that the Aslitlo explorers of the Indian Survey vere educated native gentlemen, but his was not the case. The survey was lever able to secure the services of veil educated natives who at the same irne possessed the hardihood, courage ind endurance required of an explorer in Tibet. The best educated among them was ^'ain Singh and he was merely the naster of a village school. The vlllafertj, thinking him a very learned nan, called him pundit, and so it haplened that the same designation was fivf^n to the other Hindu explorers ilsqL but they were not learned men. rhey had just enough education to be ibl^ to acquire the elements of surveying. tn make the requisite observa:lorfc and measurements and to keep jp their field books. They could hanUe 'latitudes but longitudes were too nuch for them. Irt spite of the fact that A-K could lot acquire the difficult art of deternlnlng absolute longitudes all his ither data were obtained with so much :are that when the experts in the sur;pv offiee rprtnppd his observations and slotted maps of his routes everything :ame out approximately correct. His turveys are found to fit In surprisingly veil with those of the European explorers. He could sit by your side and give rou a most Interesting narrative of lis adventures and journeys and the people and places he had seen. But he :ould not write an account of his travels In a form suitable for publication; ind so he was taken In hand and lls:ened to for weeks and his narrative vas translated Into English. It Is mainly geographical or relates :o the details of his instrumental oblervatlons, and contains very little larratlon of Incidents or description >f the manners and customs of the inlabitants. But he secured all the facts hat the British were most anxious to ?et. The verdict of geographers today s that A-K's nationality and knowledge of the Tibetan language enabled ilm to explore regions which explorers of several of the white races had 'ound barred against them, and that ie accomplished more than any of ais rivals, all of whom were much bet :er educated and equipped than himself. His achievements were rewarded 3y the high honors which some of the eading learned societies had to confer. including the bronze medal of the International Geographical congress it Venice, the gold medal of the Paris 3eographical society, and the Murchson Grant of the Royal Geographical society. SPANISH TREASURE SHIPS. Were Rich Prey For the Buccaneers of All Nations. The Dutch first and then the French played such havoc at the Azores with he returning plate ships, says a writer n Scribner's, that from 1588 a strong ?scort, known as the Indian Guard, net both the West and East Indian ihips at those islands and convoyed hem to Spain. The French then imnoved upon the Dutchman's method >y sending a fleet to the New World n 1533, which sacked Cartagena and leveral other places on the Spanish llain. though all that was done by both French and Dutch was hardly more han sporadic, and until the English nariner marked the plate fleet for his irey the Spaniards hardly noticed his osses at the hands of others; but from he day Sir Francis Drake sailed into he Caribbean the galleon's security 'anished, and her wake across the seas vas fouled with drifting spars, shatterVttillrc* r? K l'-l T ? n cr UTPpkaCP After i bold attempt upon Nombre de Dios, J vhich be called 'The Treasure of the World," Drake withdrew to a secluded ipot and entered upon a system of prelator.v warfare that drove the Spanards to distraction. How many gnleons fell victims to his daring: there is 10 means of knowing:. The San Felipe ind the Cacajuego, the glory of the South Seas, are but two of many charged up against him by the Spaniards, vho lost nearly $2,000,000 in these capures alone, and how thoroughly he swept the seas we can only judge by he terror and panic the mere mention >f the name El Draque inspired. Drake lext sailed through the Straits of Magellan and burned and plundered his vay up the west coast of South Amerca, and in the frenzy aroused by this it tack Spain put forth great efforts to 'ortify the straits, but from fraud and nismanagement the attempt failed. The reckless daredevil courage of the British sailor of this period has never )een surpassed. Captain Whiddon's at:ack upon a galleon fleet of twenty-four iail and the immortal fight of the little Bevenge when, alone and unsupported, she accounted for seventeen out of a leot of fifty-three heavy galleons before he waves closed over her deck, have )een seldom paralleled and never surpassed. COL. FELDER'S VIEWS. What the Attorney of Commission Thinks of Situation. Col. Thomas B. Felder, attorney for the winding-up commission, a few days ago gave out the following with reference to the situation: "To begin with, the matter Is largely a tempest In a teapot. When the dispensary commission was organized and the liquor men who claimed the i fund were notified to file their claims lor adjustment, they promptly com- 1 plied. The commission made up a roster of cases. The liquor men with their counsel were present. The first i case, to wit: William & Co., of Cincinnati. was called: both sides announced ready and the evidence established so conclusively the monumental conspiracy on the part of all the liquor dealers to cheat and defraud the state by bribing its purchasing agents that all of the other liquor men, their counsel and witnesses folded their tents like the Arab and as quietly stole away,' and when next heard from they were seeking the shelter of the United State's court. - "I must think that their lawyers knew that this court was without Ju MM! I Il'l 1UI1, MUl Willi llimn It WCUJ CL vooc of 'any port In u storm.' It Is absurd to say that a state may bo sued without its consent. It will be recalled that when the convention was held In Virginia to ratify the federal constitution, Mason and Henry were arguing that it contained no provision to prevent suits against the several states, John Marshall, the great expounder of the constitution and the first chief justice of the supreme court of the ( United States replied: 'I scarcely think that a sovereign state would be called to the bar of a federal court. "It is not rational to suppose that the sovereign power should be dragged before a federal court.' This view was universally acquiesced In by the framers and founders of the constitution until C.hisholm brought suit in the supreme court of the United States against the state of Georgia and that court held that a state might he sued by a citizen. "It will be remembered that this judgment was Ignored by the sovereign state of Georgia and the supreme court of the United States defied and a collision between Georgia and the federal government was averted hy the adoption of the eleventh amendment to the constitution of the United States, which was promptly proposed and adopted, the effect of which was to prohibit In terms the thing this federal judge Is seeking to do, viz: exercising the judicial power of the United States in case of citizens against one of the United States. The doctrine that a state may not be sued except upon its own volition and in the manner and form which the state Itself prescribes is too well settled and clear for controversy. "If there are just debts against the state of South Carolina on account of its dispensary the tribunal established by that state Is the only one by which 4-V. ??? nlntma OO ? Ka O /H 11 U t A /I Q n/1 11 icac L1 ai 1IIO van UC aujuoivu anu |/u*v*. "For a Federal court to say that the doctrine of waiver of sovereign rights or of equitable estoppel Is applicable to a sovereign state Is so absurd as to suggest bias upon the part of any judge who has the necessary mental equipment to preside over a court having general jurisdiction. . "I question If the members of the bar will take this judge seriously when he suggests that the state 'abdicates its sovereignty because, forsooth It enters into the liquor business.' If this is sound the state of Georgia abdicated its sovereignty when it built and operated the state road, and the UnltelH States government?according to this learned Judge?abdicated its sovereignty and when it took over from individuals the control and operation of the malls. "It will be comforting to those of us who may have claims against the United States government to know that we may assert them by applying to Judge Prltchard for a receiver to take charge of the revenue derived from the postoffice department and be applied to the -settlement of these claims. "It may afford entertainment to the readers of your paper to read the lurid reports touching the danger of Judge Prltchard attaching for contempt the attorney general or souin waroium, but I think that I am safe In saying that the attorney general will take care of himself In this emergency. Prltohard will send him to jail the day after his receivers take possession of the fund In controversy and this event will transpire on the seventh day after the world comes to an end." OLD MAN ROCKEFELLER. Secret of the Life of John D's Father Exposed. The body of Dr. William Avery Rockefeller, father of the "Oil King," John D. Rockefeller, lies In an unmarked grave in Oakland cemetery, Freeport, III. He died In that city May 11, """ ??1 n" r mnntho ana 28 13D0, tigeu j<j jroio, u invuv?w w..u ? days. . i For fifty years he led a double life, i Under the assumed named of Dr. William Levingston he farmed and sold medicine of his own decoction in Illinois and North Dakota. During those same years he occasionally appeared at the homes of his sons and among his old acquaintances in the east as Dr. William A. Rockefeller. The proofs of this have been collected by a World reporter whose investigation has just been completed. During thirty-four years of the fifty he had two wives. One was Mrs. Eliza Davison Rockefeller, the mother of John D. Rockefeller. The other was Mrs. Margaret L. Allen Levingston. The first wife, Mrs. Rockefeller, mother of the richest man in the world, married in New York state in 1837. She died in New York in 1889 at the age of 75. The second wife, Mrs. Levingston, he married In Ontario, O. This second wife is now living in Freeport, 111., a charm- i ing, whitehaired. Christian woman of 70 years. Dr. Rockefeller was 45 years old when i J i-J ?-?- Comllv In ne ueseriKu ins v?no o.nu nui?v Cleveland and went to Canada, and, under, the assumed name of William Levlngston, married Miss Margaret L. , Allen, a pretty girl of 20. For fifty years she lived with him as his wife, ; never knowing until just before he died that her husband was a bigamist. Until a few years before his death she did not know that he was William A. Rockefeller or that he had been Indict ed in New York state. Even now she will not say that he was William A. Rockefeller. "We lived happily together for fifty years and I shall be a true woman to the end," she says. During the last twenty-five years of his life, Dr. Rockefeller's whereabouts and the existence of the other wife were known to his sons, John D., William and Frank Rockefeller, and to his son-in-law, Pierson D. Briggs of Cleveland. But no one else In all the world knew. The first Mrs. Rockefeller lived thlr ty-four years after he deserted her and aiea wunoui Knowing inai ner nusoana had taken a girl of 20 In her stead And all the members of the Rockefeller family except these four men, knew nothing of It. They did not know where the old man lived. The three sons kept him well supplied with money, but they guarded well the secret of his life and whereabouts. He was first hidden on a farm in Macon county, 111., about half way between Decatur and Clinton. As the country settled up around him he moved to Freeport, 111., and In 1881 he moved again to the extreme frontier in North Dakota, on a farm thirty miles from a railroad. On this farm he spent each summer for fifteen years, known to his neighbors as Dr. William Devingston. Part of the time he owned the farm in his own name of William A. Rockefeller, but that secret was burled in the records of the county registrar of deeds, eighteen miles away, and his neighbors never knew of it. For two years the newspapers and magazines of this country have searched for the father of John D. Rockefeller. Ida M. Tarbell began the hunt, and the results of her quest were published in McClure's Magazine In July, i?u!>. sne traced me oia man to Cleveland to which city he moved with his family in 1885. She lost him there.? New York World. ELECTRIC SHOCK8. Effects of Handling Wires Which Carry a High Voltage Current. The fact that one has received a shock from a 500 volt circuit that did not prove painful Is not a sign that the next one will be equally harmless. The following: experiments have been made, Involuntarily, by a great number of people, says Cassler's Magazine. Touch one side of the circuit lightly with the finger while making contact with the other side either through a ground or by actually touching It; the sensation is similar to receiving a violent blow In the chest; a small burn that Is deep, but not painful, will be found on the finger where contact was made. Make a better contact, as by touching the circuit with a piece of metal held firmly In the hand, and the blow will be strong enough to knock the experimenter down. It is probable that no burn will result, as the current has a large surface through which to enter the hand; in rare cases the person may become unconscious for a short time. Grasp the wire firmly In the hand, and for a time at least It will be impossible to release it. Serious burns are made where the wire touches the hand, and unless the victim succeeds In wrenching himself free or help Is quickly rendered, the result Is likely to prove fatal. The last case is of a very rare occurrence; it is pretty sure to obtain considerable space in the dally papers when it actually does occur, while in many of the reports seen the victim mav exclaim, with Mark Twain, "Ac counts of my death greatly exaggerated." On the other hand, people are knocked down by the current every day. It Is rather peculiar that the 500 volt shock will, in the majority of cases, kill a horse. The trolley current Is a 500 volt circuit, with the exception of perhaps half a dozen lines recently installed which go to 1,000 or over. It Is well to remember In case of a falling trolley wire that standing upon a dry board will give full protection, that while sitting in a car there is no danger of shock from a broken wire or other cause if one does not touch metal or wet wood; raising the feet from the floor that may be wet or dirty will do as. an additional precaution. If one wishes to remove a wire to avoid shock or for other reasons, it may be done with saTety while standing upon a dry, clean board, with a piece of dry board not large enough to stand on, or with several thicknessesses of dry paper (a newspaper) or, in case of emergency, a bundle of dry clothing. As it is difficult to get the latter perfectly dry a shock may be received when this is attempted, but the resistance will be so high that the onutn. nut 11\jl wc ov ? vi v. The deadly third rail also operate* at 500 volts, and is no more deadly than has been already shown, except for the probability of a person who Is thrown down by the 3hock of falling across the rail and becoming unconscious. This of course Is as serious a case even as that of the man who Is , unable to let go of the wire. Wires used for street lighting may always be regarded with suspicion: they are exceedingly likely to carry a current of 2,000 volts or more. This will, In most cases, give a fatal current, and the pressure is so great that the precautions previously described are not to be depended upon. One would be reasonably safe, however, If standing upon a chair or stool with perfectly dry wooden legs. As wires of 2,000 volts or more are quite common In the streets, there are many chances for ottnr wires to come In contact with them and so receive a dangerous current. It is therefore unwise for an inexperienced person to touch any outdoor wire, however harmless It may appear. Lines for transmitting rower across country operate on voltages all the way up to 60,000. Precautions are taken with such wires and special warnings are printed on the poles. Lines of 10,000 volts or over may be recognized by the fact that large clay or porcelain Insulators are used in place of glass ones generally seen. Persons rendered unconscious by a shock may frequently be revived by inducing artificial respiration in the manner used for reviving persons apparently drowned; but, of course, without the attempt to expel water from the lungs.