Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, March 13, 1908, Image 1
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.