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i . i SEMI-WEEKL^ I. * GRiSTS SOKS^Pubiishers.} % Jfamilj Dmrsuajfr: 4ar % promotion of fh< fjoIiUtat, ?o?iai. ^rinaltapl and tiommwiat gnttrests of the gtoglt. I TK"?i?qlVc^pt, ?i? cL?VA>la E^jBLiSHEiri855. YORKVILLE, 8. C., TUESDAY, OCTOBER 5, 1909. NOTSOT wwwwwiiiiw mmmiH IWMIWI THE 81ft 1 By ETTA \ ^i CHAPTER XIV. For a moment there was dead silence. Paulette's great, dilated eyes were tlxed on the old general. "You have chosen me for Arthur Gullte's wife!" she faltered. "Impossible! I am dreaming. You cannot so soon have forgotten where you met me, from whence you took me?you cannot have forgotten the story I told you about Jean Rale?you, who come of a race so proud of Its high blood and Its good name; He knitted his fierce old brows. "L?ong ago I entreated you," he answered, "to forget the past. You are now neither the foundling of Jean Rale's care, nor the child-actress fighting with the world and the devil for her daily bread. You are a woman, Paulette, and my ward. I hold you in all ways worthy to be the wife of Ar4 thur Gullte. Is not that enough? Our good name! Yes; we have been?we still are proud of it Nevertheless, it is not without its stains!" He looked moodily off across the ^ bay. * Paulette seemed to grow paler and paler. "But it cannot, cannot be!" she cried, wildly. "I shall never marry, guardy?never! You do not know what you say. Oh, I beg you, let your choice fall upon some other?any other than me!" Tho nM general smiled, quietly. 1 ? "Not marry, Paulette? You can hardly ask me to believe that. Tut, tut! You shall not look so distressed. I have made a blunder, I think. In speaking so soon of the matter. I ought, perhaps, to have allowed Arthur to plead his own cause, without any meddling of mine." "But," answered Paulette, throwing back her spirited head to look at him, "he may have chosen already for himself. In the life he has led he must have seen many faces. Thank heaven! It is far, far from likely that he would care for me!" The old general gathered up his rein. "Arthur's nature is not an impressiA ble one?I cannot agree with you. Adventure has been his mistress. My dear child, take time to think of this matter. It would be worse than folly for me to press it upon you now. Woo ing by proxy is prone to fare ill. In a few weeks Arthur himself will be at Hazel Hall." "I tell you again," cried Paulette, passionately, "that I shall never marry! When you are tired of me?when 1 have become a burden to you, i win ^ go away." The corners of his bleached mustache went up in a grim smile. "As no such danger is yet imminent, we will not discuss the matter this morning. Come, I cannot have such a pale face. Forget all I have said for the present. Your first day at Hazel Hall must not be made miserable by an old man's folly. Yonder comes Trent." Another wild impulse had seized Paulette to open her heart to this good, generous friend?to confess her disastrous marriage with St. John; but at this moment the lawyer appeared in a turn of the way, spurring rapidly toward them, and the wish and the opportunity passed together. He rode hurriedly up, looking keenly at both from the corners of his light, hazel %* eyes, taking in at a glance the old general's placidity and Paulette's ruffled and dejected air. "Bless me'" said the old soldier, suddenly, drawing out his watch. "I have business at the hall at this hour. * I leave my little Polly to you, Trent. She will find your impany more lively than mine, I dare say. We shall meet at dinner." He galloped off. ^ Trent wheeled the reeking English cob he rode and fell Into place beside Paulette. He glanced covertly at her downcast face, half veiled in her loose hair. "The general's conversation does not seem to have raised your spirits." he said, dryly, "Of course he has been talking of his heir, his hero, the pride of his dotard heart?Arthur?" She colored angrily. ' He has been talking of nothing that can in the least concern you," she an- J swered. "Don't be so sure," said Trent, airily. "I've a deep interest in this same Arthur, and all his doings. I also know the general's plans regarding him." "Indeed!" said Paulette, coldly. "I do not. Neither have I any interest p in one or the other. Therefore, let us talk of something else, or rather let [ us not talk at all, but ride." She snatched up the rein with one daring: little hand and brought her whip down with a smart blow on the i Kentucky rnare's side. Quite unused to such attentions, the beautiful, blooded creature gave a frightened leap, then laid back her ears and bolted. "Stop!" cried Trent, spurring after. "She will surely throw you? Stop, Miss Rale, for God's sake!" He might as well have talked to the ^ idle wind. Toward the bay, swift as a shaft from the bow, sped the mare, with that golden-haired figure in the saddle. Even then Trent could not but admire the skill and courage with which, novice as she was In the art, 4 she kept her seat. Suddenly a turn In the road hid her from his sight. Away he went in pursuit, the live oaks on one side, the blue bay on the other, the morning wind in his face. Another turn and his heart leaped into his mouth. The mare and her rider wopp rinse before him. the former standing in the middle of the road, her rein loose, her head tossed high, her saddle empty; the latter lying prone * and motionless in the dust at the brute's feet. With a cry Trent leaped from his saddle and knelt at Paulette's side. Out of the dust he lifted her bright head to his knee. Her eves were closed. Her marble face was without a vestige of color. She lay stunned, unconscious. like one dead. He held that richly molded form in mnrmmvwvmmwmrmmrm m m mm V. PIERCE. his arms?he looked down upon her as 9he iay. His inask-llke face darkened and changed. "And so," he muttered, "he covets this perfect creature for Arthur Guilte? He would give her to him as the crowning glory of his goodly heritage? Never! Never! The fond old dotard! I have him and his precious heir both in my hand, to crush at pleasure. This girl shall never bear their accursed name!" His eye remained upon her unconscious face. It was the deep, devouring look of awakening passion. He made no attempt to revive her?only kept his kneeling position, holding her in absorbed silence. Presently Paulette stirred upon his 1 J - V? Ufl arm. one neaveu a. lanu uigam. Uv leaned over her. From her unconscious lips broke a murmur?a sad, distressed murmur?a man's name. Where was her soul wandering? With that past which the old general had just been dragging from its dishonored grave? "Guy! Oh, Guy!" Trent started, listened, bent lower. "Guy!" he muttered. "In the name of heaven, who is Guy?" Her dark eyes slowly unclosed. She looked up at him. "Are you hurt?" said Trent, his face close to her own. "How rash of you! The general will never trust you with me again. My dear Miss Rale, are you hurt?" She struggled to rise. "I t.iink not," she stammered. "A little giddiness?that is all. The saddle slipped?the girth was loose. I could have kept my seat but for that." He assisted her to her feet "Lean upon me!" he cried, passionately. "Lean upon me! Faith! What a fright you gave me! Had you come to harm under my care, I should have leaped into the bay. Whisky!" Obedient to this name, the Kentucky mare advanced, docile as a kitten. Trent adjusted the saddle properly and fastened the girth. "Dare you mount again?" he said to Paulette. "Or are you afraid?" "Afraid!" she echoed, scornfully. "I - ? ofr-oit\f onv^hlntr PArtflJn am iicvci cMiiuu v?. 0. ly, I shall mount. Would you have me walk back to the house?to the presence of your friend Miss Burr In this dress?" He helped her Into the saddlajunlp, and they turned their horses' heads homeward. For a while there was silence, then Trent turned his lightcolored, tigerish eyes on his companion. "Have you a brother?" he asked, abruptly. She started out of some thoughts of I1CI UWI1 aiiu aiwnvivu. "No." "Pardon me?an accepted lover, then?" Wide open flashed her fiery eyes. "Sir!" "That also means nay," said Mr. Trent, "and you think me very insolent into the bargain. Pray, who, then, is Guy?" One moment her face was like Carrara stone, the next the hot, painful blood burned from temple to chin. "What do you :nean?" she demanded. "As you lay insensible just now," I he answered snapping at the thickets with his whip, yet carefully watchful of her face, "you murmured a name. It was Guy. I was curious enough to wonder who Guy might be." She surveyed him with a look that had in it some terror, but more scorn. "Your curiosity does you great credit," she answered. "It is a pity to disappoint you. Do you t.hink you could have heard aright? I have not a relative, not a friend on the broad earth who bears the name you mention. He gnawed his lip. "Now, you are angry with me. May I not even ask regarding your friends ?I who long to serve your wny should you reproach me because you and yours have so soon absorbed my entire thoughts?" She shrank from the look In his eyes. "I really have nothing I can call mine," she answered, with affected lightness, "unless it be a natural distaste for all cloying sweets?compliments included. Let us take the nearest road to the hall. Lunch, I'm sure, will be waiting, and Miss Burr may be anxious concerning?you!" He gave her a look, half anger, hall admiration, and they pursued the rest of the way in silence. If Mr. Trent were curious regarding General Guilte's ward, so, also, was another memDer 01 tne oia suiuici e household. The first day of Paulette'-In her new home was succeeded by a night in which an odd incident happened. When the great Maryland house was as still as the grave and everything in it, apparently, sleeping the sleep ol the just," the door of Hilda Burr's chamber opened, and that lady herself, in loose attire, stepped like 8 wrinkled hag into the passage. As she did so she was met there by Rose her quadroon maid. "Sh!" whispered Hilda, raising hei finger; "is everything quite right?" "Yes, mi.ssus, me quauiuuu answered. "Did you see her drink the water?" "With my own eyes, missus. Th? glass stood on the table. I put th< drops in quick. Hi! she turned sudden and drank it all in a breath!" "Go to my chamber, Rose, and wai there." Rose disappeared. Her mistress advanced cautiously t< Paulette's door, stood for a momen listening, then turned the knob anc glided in. All there was darkness?sweet silence. The Venetian blinds were dowr ?the muslin curtains stirred faintly it the scented wind that crept througl their interstices. On the white bed, in a deep, deej sleep, lay Paulette, her yellow hall ^H A JHHft J^y.v PRESIDED! TAFT ON THE P SCENE IN President Tnft has been fairly overw of the west. Banquets and luncheons h succession that the president has been military aid, wired to Seattle before th the bill of fare must be reduced to plat cooking. His secretary made this cle mlttee when that body wired to know cabbage or more elaborate food. "Be tangled on the pillow, her arms hung above her head, the long lashes making black semi-circles on her colorless cheek. A burning, raging devil seemed tugging at Hilda Burr's heart as she looked down on her in her ravishing beauty?the devil of Jealous envy and hate. "He scorns and mocks me," she muttered. "but he admires her?he will love her. She Is young?I am old. She is handsome?I ugly. Did I dare, I would throttle her as she lies." She did not dare. Therefore she set her lamp peacefully down on the dressing table and, guided by previous instructions from Rose, opened a drawer therein and drew forth, wrapped in yellow paper, a box of flesh-colored paint, a vial or liquid and a little brush with an ivory handle. Hilda Burr's eyes saone like a cat's in the dark. She snatched the stopper from the vial, saturated a corner of her , handksrcMaf. and, approaching the bed, bent over and softly passed the wet linen across the throat of the sleeper. Then she drew back and looked at what Paulette called her mark of Cain, revealed crimson and bright from the unconscious girl's chin to her little ear nestled like a pearl in clusters of yellow hair. That cruel brand! Never had it looked so cruel, so vivid as at this moment! Hilda Burr started back a step, then put out her hand and drew it lightly the whole length of the sanguine line. "Hideous!" she thought, "quite enough to spoil the beauty of Venus! How artfully the cunning jade conceals it! Shall I ever look at her again without longing to fly at this throat and tear its disguise away? show her to Trent s eyes as sue icaujr is?" And Paulette lay in her deep, deathlike sleep and never stirred. Directly Hilda turned back to the table, caught up the paint and brush and covered the birth-mark as skillfully as its owner could have done. She then began to wrap the several articles in the yellow paper, and while doing this a few words printed thereon in capitals suddenly arrested her keen eyes. She held it to the lamp. The paper was an old play-bill o fthe Boston Museum, discolored with age, and announcing a comedy in which the leading character was to be sustained by the universal favorite, "Little Paulette." Hilda Burr turned it over in her i hand. She looked, she read, she stared. Had she been a man she would I have whistled. Who was little Paulette? It was by no means a common name. She stood with the old bill in i her hand and looked at the beautiful sleeper there on the white bed. I "Aha!" came like a hiss through her I set teeth. Carefully back into the drawer went the box, the brush and the vial, but the bill Hilda retained, and dropping the fringed covering of , the dressing table, she took up her ' light, cast a last glance at Paulette and noiselessly left the chamber. ! She had barely reached the passage, ; her hand was still on the knob of the door?the hand, too, that held the pre; clous bill?when a figure rose like a i gourd out of the darkness before her? i the figure of a man in list slippers and i a flowered dressing-gown?In fact, Mr. i George Trent. A cry leaped to Hilda's lips. She would have dropped the light had he j not caught It from her hold. r "My dear Hilda," said Trent, in a t guarded voice, "can I believe my eyes? j You interviewing Miss Rale at this . hour of the night? How strange?how i deucedly strange!" j "Hush!" implored Hilda, in very visible alarm?"hush! she is asleep. I had an errand in her room?nothing p more. Do you spend your nights prowling about the house watching . other people?" "My dear Hilda, without a doubt there are persons here who need > watching. May I beg to ask what this > is?" and before she was aware, he had . snatched the play-bill from her hand. His eyes went over it like lightning, t The next instant he thrust it coolly in to his own pocket. "Hasten," he cried, "to your own ) room. You look like a clear case, of t sleep-walking in this garb?your face, 1 too, Is altogether wild. The general or some of his servants might see you - here and make remarks?wonder, may1 hap, at the lateness of your visit to 1 Miss Rale's chamber." l "George Trent, give me back that play-bill!" hissed Hilda, ashy with > rage. r "A play-bill, was it?" quoth Mr. ACIFIC COAST-WATEB FEONT SEATTLE. helmed by the hospitality of the people nve followed one another In such rapid forced to call a bait, captain Butt, nia e president had left Salt Lake City that n food. Mr. Taft Is no hand for fancy nr to the San Antonio reception comwhether the president liked beef and ef and cabbage," was the reply. Trent, airily. "Faith, I did not observe. Does It belong to you or to MIse Rale?" She did not answer?only stood and surveyed him furiously. He made hei a mocking bow. "Pardon, Miss Burr, but as youi costume Is somewhat loose and youi manner rather bewildered, I will not prolong the Interview. If your errand to the bower of innocence yonder has been productive of any further Item ol interest, you will no doubt reveal it to me in good time. I have noticed you never keep a secret from me, Hilda." He disappeared down the stairs, She looked after him a moment, then fled to he, own chamber and closed the aoor. Paulette was late at breakfast the next morning. Mr. Trent alone remained at the table, and he was sipping his last cup of coffee with languid Indifference as she entered. General Guilte occupied the bow-wladoSJ of the breakfast-room, full of dog-rosee and pouring sunshine, and Hilda sat beside him, reading aloud for his edification the morning papers. "Polly!" burst out the old soldier at sight of his ward, who came languidly forward to the table. "Good Lord! how you look, child! Are you ill?" Paulette took a seat opposite Mr Trent. She was frightfully pale, and the lids hung heavy on her beautiful eyes. "I do not know," she answered; "1 feel as if I had been sleeping under the influence of narcotics." Mr. Trent opened his eyes and looked across at Hilda. "Narcotics! Tut!" said the general; "you want a row on the bay or a ride In the morning air to revive you. Come, Hilda, if you are going to read, pray read, and not mumble. Tnunaei of heaven! I do not hear a word; Crisp could do it better." "I wish Crisp the Joy of it," answered Hilda, tartly. "You have no mercy on other people's throats, general. It's very tiresome, wading through columns of things every morning for which one doesn't care a straw." "That's no reason why you should make it all as dull as death," retorted the irate general. "Now go on, I beg you, and put in a stop now and then that a man may understand something of your langle. Trei. looked smilingly across al Paulette. "Was your sleep last night disturbed?" he asked. "No," she answered, coldly, "not af all. I never slept sounder." In a loud, hurried voice Hilda begar to read, drowning out all other sounds in the room. Willing or unwilling, all had to listen. High, piercing, every word dropping like a shot In the en forced silence, this Is what she read: " 'Guy St. John, a scene painter ol Boston, died last week of yellow fevei at Havana,' There! do you find thai any improvement, sir?" "Mighty little," answered the general; "too much speed by half. And who the mischief cares about Guy St John? Skip those things and read the money market.' "Merciful heavens!" screamed Hilda "look at your ward, sir!" The coffee cup with which she had been trlflng a moment before crashed down from Paulette's hand. One fainl cry broke from her lips. Then she fell forward with her face on the cloth Trent leaped from his chair and snatched her up. She lay a dead weight on his arm. her eyes closed, hei cheeks colorless?she had fainted quite away. (To be Continued.) Daniel and the Lions.?An old nervnAnnh/iK l? V ontiinl/ir timo rlllaHnr glVJ tuv.iiv.1 III IVUnuo uiiaiii>e upon events in the Bible which had 8 zoological trend. He described th( Deluge, and how all the animals, twc by two, went into th eark and wer< saved. Then he discussed the incidenl of Jonah and the whale, Balaam's ass and finally *he exploit of Daniel, wh( entered the den of ravening lions anc emerged unharmed. His auditors hac listened with interest, and some o: them seemed to have their doubts as to the authenticity of the tales. Finally, one of the younger negroes rose up and inquired: "Say, pahson wuz dem lions jest like the kind w< has now?" "Cose not, cose not," retorted th( preacher, irritated at having his discourse interrupted. "Dey was B. C. meaning befo' circuses." The explanation was sufficient anc I satisfactory.?Buffalo Commercial. IttisccHanwus ^fading. . A SOUTHERN "COHPRAL." The only one of hie kind in the Land of Colonels. It was In a little southern town that I met him, a tiny little town with nothing In It that was not there long before the war, says an Annapolis letter tc the New York Sun. The town has some of the finest colonial brick houses In the country, great dignified cubes of brick, with the bricks laid away lor ever, you would say, In their beds of hard white mortar, so that every brick really does one good to look at. But the houses are dark and feel empty, and have the' look of awaiting boarders. The town also has the best that is left of old colonial furniture, whole rooms of mahogany done into monumental side-boards, hnrooMB onH Hroaoors tnn mflnV nf them, alas, displayed in the windows of the local antiquity shops. Moreover, the town has the Cohpral, who, jolly old fellow, is all sunshine and boyishness. I met him by chance, or, rather, he met me. It would hardly be fair to the Cohpral to put it otherwise, for it was he that did the honors of our meeting, and to him must be given all the credit. It was in the cafe of the town's best hotel. You will say the old colonial cafe or the old colonial hotel, no doubt. Well that is more or less correct, too. Not wholly so; the hotel is a sort of rambling shelter, thit has grown up around an old colonial residence. That part is pretty nearly 200 years old, and it has been in turn a squire's residence, a British headquarters, a boarding house kept by a very old lady of good family, and finally a hotel for the sheltering of the irreverent drummer. But as for the cafe, alas! it did not live up to its > surroundings. The contents of the . former generations' wine cellars probi ably did not survive them. As I was looking disconsolately at 1 the negro in attendance, not knowing now 10 express my seiiLiiiicnia iu mui, I saw a tall old man rise from a chair by a solitary table In a far corner and make his way toward me. He : walked with the aid of a handcut ' hickory stick, for his weight was lm1 possing and his years were not few. He wore no collar, "tt he was adorn1 ed i with a fine white mustache that inspired quite as much respect. "Excuse me, sir," he began with an accent such that I will not try to lml| tate; "I presume that you are a stranger to our town." I admitted ( that much. ''Then, sir, you will alow me to introduce you to one feature of our town which you might not learn of for yourself. John, reach up and pass . down the third bottle." i I watched the attendant stretch his ; hand out to an upper shelf and remove from It the third of a numerous row. My new friend nodded approv. : ingly. The bottle was set before me and my friend looked at me meaningly. Then he performed with some alacrity that evolution known to the . old tacticians as the right about face I and stood with his back to me, drumI ming gently on the floor with his stick held behind his back and whls tllng a meditative air. From the attendant's eyes I read what was expected of me. In due time my friend returned from his brown study and fllled his own glass. "To your better acquaintance with ! our town," he proposed, raising his ' glass as a signal. Proper approval was | out of the question, yet an acknowledgment of some kind was distinctly in order. "Colonel," I suggested, "let us have , another." i "Another with pleasure, sir," he i agreed. ^at first let me corret youi > misapprehension. My title, sir, is not colonel; its Cohpral, sir, Cohpral." 1 I excused myself humbly for my erI ror and then waited, having a presen; tlment that an explanation would be sure to follow. Colonels are plenty in ?' the south, bless that sunny land, and their race thrives and multiplies. But t Corprals! In due time, the explana tion came. My friend, tne uorprai launched forth on a fine old-fashioned war-time story that need not be re1 peated with his fullness of detail. At the end of It he cited the chapter and 1 page of a well-known war history of 1 his native state, where It was to be 1 found that a certain Corporal had been commended by Gen. Lee for signal bravery In action. "And that," he concluded, "Is why I am known as ' Cohpral. If I let them call me colonel, it would not be easy for folks to ' know that I was the same Cohpral In question." I While I readily agreed with him that to be called cunnel in the land | of cunnels was to lose one's Individuality, I hazarded that Corporal was rather a unique title In those parts. "I ' have met a good many colonels," said . I, "In these parts, but as far as I re. member, sir. you are the only Corpor. al of the Confederate army that I I have ever happened upon." It was plain from my friend's I beaming smile that my observation I pleased him. "You are right, sir," he . agreed; "I am indeed the only one of i my kind. I have been convinced of that fact, sir, ever since an occasion late In the fall of the year 1864. "I was attached at that time to the Confederate army in Virginia. We were pretty well thinned out, and our ? uniforms were so much weathered 1 that one scarcely could tell by look! Ing at us whether they had originally ' been gray or blue. One day I was 1 sent out beyond our lines to carry 1 some dispatches. The road lay ' through any one's country, and as I } rode along I had to keep my eye peelI ed for the Yankees. By and by I came to one of these Virginia rivers } and I had to cross it. It was one of those slow, muddy rivers with wide t old banks as soft and slippery as soft soap. It was too wide to ford, but I over on the other side I saw the old ferryboat that used to take travellers ? across before the war, I reckon. And .by it I saw a kind of a small cabin, that didn't look as if any one was living there. 1 "But this was the way most of the places looked in those days. So I hoi lered for a right smart while, and by and uy sure enough an old white man came out and looked across at me. He looked about 80, but when he saw that I wanted to cross he got into the ferryboat and put out the sweeps and rowed over as fast as he was able. He landed and came up and rested his hand on my horse's shoulder and looked at me awhile, and pretty soon he said: 'Stranger, which side might you be fighting on?" "When I told him the old fellow grabbed my hand and shook it. He hadn't seen a Confederate for so long, he said, that he'd begun to think all of them were gone and done for. He'd row me across right gladly, he said, only he was an old man and trade was poor these days and he guessed he'd have to ask me half a dollar. "Well, I led my nr.g aboard the flat boat and told him to go ahead. He pulled at the sweeps, but she wouldn't go, for she was stuck fast in the red mud. So pretty soon he said, 'General, would you just as soon lead your horse up a little further forward?' " 'I'm not a general, stranger,' I answered. " 'Well, then, colonel, if you'd? " 'Nor yet a colonel, stranger." " 'Well, captain, maybe you'd'? " 'Nor a captain, either.' " 'Lieutenant, will you lead that horse of yours'? "He was looking a olt flabbergasted but I answered in the same way as before: ." 'Lieutenant neither.' "'Sergeant then?* " 'No.' "'How about cohpral?" " 'Now you've hit it,' I said, and I led the horse up forward a step so he could start the ferryboat. "He didn't say another word. Just rowed over mum as a mouse till we reached the landing. Then he refused to take my pay. " 'Not a cent!" the old man spoke up. "I'm right proud to have carried you across, stranger; you are the first Confederate Cohpral that I ever met. I used to see plenty of generals and coioneis, ana now anu men a eapmm. But, stranger, you are the only Cohpral. And as for privates, I reckon the Yanks got all of them long ago.' " ROMANCE OF GOLD. Death of Klondyke King Recalls Visions of Fabulous Wealth. Like the story of the life of the Montezuma, who had lost his greater wealth, yet was building again In the way of an enchanted adventurer, reads the life of Alexander McDonald, known In the north for a long time as the king of all Klondyke kings, and affectionately referred to here as "Big Alex" or the "Big Moose." The fact Mr. McDonald, on his claim near here, died last week, has brought about a revival in stories of the life and fortune and misfortunes of "Big Alex." From Angus Camerson of Dawson much Is learned of the early life of Mr. McDonald. He was born In a little settlement called Ashdale, two miles from the head of Loch, Aber county of Antlngonlsh, In the province of Nova Scotia In the family were six sons, of which Alex was the fourth, and four daughters. His father's name was William McDonald, who with William Chlsholm, father of Thomas Chlsholm, came from the highlands of Scotland, McDonald, Sr., settled on a good piece of land and in time became one of the wealthiest farmers in this section. Alex had arrived at man's estate, was 26 years old before he left the parental roof. His first venture away from home was in the state of Pennsylvania, where he went into the logging business, but failing to meet with the success he desired, he disposed of his scanty interests and departed for Montana, where he had his first experience in mining the precious metals. From Montana he drifted to Colorado, first working for wages in the mines adjacent to Leadvllle, and soon afterward going to Aspen. It was at the latter place where he acquired the education that made him one of the best quartz miners ever in the north. For twelve years he remained here, working all the time and generally for wages. Having finally saved up a little grub stake, he secured a lease on a piece of property in the camp that was of unknown value. Sinking for the lead was undertaken, and at about the same time his little bank account was exhausted, the heavily mineralized vein was encountered. It was in 1896 that Mr. McDonald came inside, landing at Forty-Mile and proceeding within a few days to Miller and Glacier creeks, which at that time were the principal points of attraction in that district. That same summer Pete Wyberg had arrived at San Francisco wlh 257 pounds of gold in an old tin trunk that in a few years he had taken from a claim on Miller, and It had caused a considerable talk among the old placer miners of California. Joe Barrette was on Miller at the time of Alex's arrival. For a short period he worked for wages, but as soon as he had acquired a knowledge of mining In the north he secured a lay, which yielded but a small recompense for the labor Involved. In the clean-up of the spring of '96 he had 5800 left after paying his bills, and that poke the bulk of the summer was cashed in Joe Barrette's cabin. Cormack's strike was made August 16 that same year, the news was not reaching the Sixty-Mile district until a few weeks later. Barrette in the meantime had left in July for the outside,, taking a small boat from Forty-Mile to Circle, where he caught a steamer, and in connection with this brief tale of the early life of the KlonayKe it may ue ui nuc^o^ ^ know how near Joe came to owning one of the richest claims on Eldorado. A few weeks later came the discovery that electrified the world, and this same man Morin made the run from Miller creek to the Klondyke in company with Alex McDonald. The former staked, but Alex did not; in fact, strange as it may appear of all the hundreds of claims that have been owned in the Klondyke and adjacent territory by "Big Alex' he never staked one himself. The ground staked by Morin was none other than 22 Eldorado, which afterward was to become famous as a part of the estate of Alex Caldor, so long in litigation. Morin made his inoatinn enrlv in SeDtember and with in a month had sold a half interest to Billy Haze for $450. He returned to Circle for the winter, selling the other half to Duncan McDonald for a song, end the entire claim passing Into the hands of McDonald and Calder In September, 1897, at a big figure. From that day to this Joe Barrette has never seen Morin and thus a fortune slipped through his fingers. ?Dawson letter in Seattle Post-IntelI llgencer. MICHIGAN BEAR HUNTING. Four Hand to Hand Battlaa?Night Attacks on 8h?ep H?rds. Common black bear are becoming such a menace to farm stock In the woods of northern Michigan that hunting parties are being extensively organized to exterminate them. The bounties which have from time to time been offered by the various boards of supervisors have proved Ineffectual as a stimulus to Individual hunters, and throughout the territory lying along the Suglnaw bay and extending to the Straits of Mackinaw further north along the Lake Huron shore, Br'er Bruin and his family have been thriving on choice lamb and sheep, pigs, veal, calves, honey, etc., all summer long. It is the approach of fall, when a spark starts a raging forest Are, that has caused organised effort to be made to rid the countryside of the beasts. In Arenac county alone over 400 sheep were killed last fall by the bears which had been driven out of the swamps and woods by the fierce forest fires which swept so large a portion of the state. Their fighting qualities were amply demonstrated to the employees on Bradley, Prescott & Co.'s sheep ranch, overlooking Stiles Lake, during the prevalence of the fires which swept all that territory traversed by the Detroit and Mackinac railroad In eastern Michigan last autumn. This ranch covers thousand of acres of fine grazing lands, partly plains dotted with lakes, streams and swamps; but everywhere the low jack pine Interspersed with scrub oak is in evidence. At the headquarters are located the long sheep shed and a big enclosure surrounded by an eight foot wire fence, In which from 8,000 to 10,000 sheep are herded. Near by is the residence of the superintendent, Tom French, where the men employed In caring for the sheep also live. One night early In October, French was awakened by a noise resembling distant thunder. His first thought was that at last the clouds were about to open and quench the flames whose smoke had been coming nearer and nearer day by day, but as he lay awake waiting for the pleasing patter of the rain, the thunder changed its keynote and his feelings of relief gave way to wonder and then to anxiety. Above the thunderous roll came to his ears the bleating of the lambs, and as it came nearer he could distinguish the pitiful cries of the sheep and then the growling, hoarse cry of bears as they attacked the animals. Rousing the other men and bidding them secure their rifles, which were always loaded for emergencies, the foreman led the party into the woods. The half moon only partially lighted up the ODenings among the trees, the semi darkness adding to the danger of their encounter. The slaughter to* going on at a rapid rate, for at least a dozen bears were attacking the dock. The men opened Are, but stopped when they realized they were liable to kill many of their sheep, so closely were they huddled together. Drawing their long hunting knives, the men plunged into the fray. They were met half way by one bear much larger than the rest, which had been badly wounded by a bullet. He made a rush and with one swoop of his paw ripped the sb'.rt from a man's back, and sent the blood spurting from four long, deep gashes. The foreman himself was immediately engaged in a death struggle with another bear, whose viselike embrace was only broken after repeated knife thrusts finally succeeded in reaching a vital spot With the exception of two men who had fled, the others were by this time practically surrounded by bears. Four hand to hand encounters were going on at once. Nearly every man had his clothing ripped from him, while their faces were covered with blood. The tide of battle turned Just in the nick of time, for almost on the Instant that the foreman and the first man who had been attacked succeeded in killing their bears one of the other men hari his arm broken by a savage blow from a paw, while the fourth had his hand badly lacerated and crushed In the mouth of the bear he was fightlng. By joining forces the men soon after succeeded in despatching the remaining animals, but were not In the least disappointed at finding that some of the bears had disappeared in the darkness. By the time they had succeeded in stanching their wounds and had rested sufficiently to make the return trip to headquarters approaching daylight disclosed the full extent of the murderous feast they had interrupted. Close at hand were five dead bears and three dogs wnlch would never again answer their master's call, while within a radius covering less than an acre were over fifty sheep, most of thorn rfooj onH nthpra so hadlv wound ed they had to be killed.?Chicago Tribune. TRIUMPH OF THE CRANBERRY. From Meagre Start Industry Has Grown to Great Magnitude. The cranberry producing section of Massachusetts, which yields 60 per cent of the nation's total, is chiefly confined to the counties of Plymouth and Barnstable, declares the Boston Transcript. Under the name of "Cape Cod cranberries" these are known all over the country as the best the market affords. The earliest plantings of the cranberry were made in the first quarter of the nineteenth century, probably before 1818. From a meagre start the industry has grown to one of great magnitude and has extended into other states. More towns claim the paternity of cranberry culture than the birthplace of Homer, but the probabilities are that the early start of the industry was at Dennis, on the north shore of the cape. Here cranberries grew W11U UIl llio luir Iiiaioiico ncai the shore and were picked and preserved by the housewives of the time as a delicacy highly regarded along with the beach plum and the wild grape. The discovery that cranberries could be improved by cultivation came about by accident. It was found that near the shore the fine sand of the beach, being blown over the vines, made the berries grow larger and have a finer flavor. Then the experiment was made of sanding over the wild bogs. The next step was to transplant the wild vines and cultivate them with care. As cranberries were then selling at $20 a barrel, It was found to be a profitable Industry and the cultlvatlon was taken up by farmers who had bog: lands. These were valueless before the cultivation of cranberries. The sea ceased to afford an avocation, and the famed captains of Cape Cod began to retire, and In looking about for a place to invest their money found In cranberry production a congenial and lucrative occupation. Had it not been for this industry the prospects for a livelihood on Cape Cod would have been slim. The people were quick to grasp this new opportunity, and not only did they utilise all the available land at home, but began to cast their eyes about them for opportunities elsewhere. In Plymouth county they discovered bog land of much greater area thin on Cape Cod proper, and ample drainage and flowage facilities. As these bogs were so much larger than any to which they had been accustomed they had to seek capital for development, and the result was the formation of a corporation or shareholding company with a shrewd CApe Codder at the head of It A number of sizable fortunes were made in this manner, and today large capital Is being Invested In the business by shrewd, investors, and the holdings of some of these companies amount to hundreds of acres. 8TEALINQ IN 8T0RE8. The ingenuity That is 8hown by the Woman Thief, As numerous as they are lngenl ms are the tricks of the modern shoplifters, declare store detectives. It keeps the detectives busy to "get on" to the devices of the men and women who live by their wits In stealing from stores. For tricks that are canny few classes of criminals, It is said, approach them. The method of stealing by using the satchel with a false bottom is one of the cleverest of the tricks. Well disguised, the shoplifter ynters a store. Her eyes run over tho I counters. She perceives the object she wants?usually sometimes small and valuable, sometimes a purs-* n customer has left lying on the counj ter. Over the object the shoplifter placi* her satchel. Pretending to delvslntJ the satchel to extract a purse or handkerchief, the thief lifts a false bottom to the bag, reaches under It, draw inside the desired article, adjusts the false bottom, closes the satchel and walks away. "But this is only one of many Oliver ruses employed," declared a detective the other day. "The women especially are lngenloua Their dress, of course, helps them. "One of the methods of stealing is for the shoplifter to have a slit in her dress near the belt As she atan fa _ ^ near the counter she can deftly seise the article desired, be it a piece of lace or costly fabric or a bit of jewelry, and slip it into the skirt. The folds of the skirt are voluminous nnd conceal the thing stolen. "Some tricks are successful bec&'ise of their simplicity. A fashionably dressed women may walk into the clothing department look over coat suits, pick up one, fold it neatly up, place it under her coat and wi'k away. "If she is detected she will indignantly declare that she bought iho suit some time before and that she has brought it back to be altered. "Or a woman, her hands glittering with rings and dressed in the latest style, may walk into the store so-no winter day. She wears only a rich coat of dark fabric. "In the coat department she will ask to see some fur lined coats. Oh, she Is very particular and tries on one after another. Other custom *rs come up, and the saleslady gets bu??y with them while madam is trying 10 suit herself. "While the saleslady Is turned she puts on one of the richest sable Mmmed coats, turns on her heel p.nl walks away. Perhaps the salesgirl may not notice the lo38 until then ,'s an account of stock. "Bach month from -fifty to sixty arrests are made in the average latp?j department store. The detect! /ee must be extremely careful, for a false charge would precipitate a suit f'.r damages, which would mean many thousands. "Certain departments hold especial lures for shoplifters. The Jewelry department Is invariably guarded. When the furs come In we have sleuths a no keep their eyes open for the woman who lines to taxe a iur 10 me ?hiu?t to examine it, then running for the door; the woman with the false s'M.'t and the woman who puts a fur on and audaciously walks away." Although the sales departments and the detective departments work together, there exists between them a spirit of justifiable rivalry. If a detective perceives some one getMig away with goods It casts dlscred'ton the person behind the counter from which the goods were stolen. Therefore the sales folk keep an alert walch for shoplifters. One might imagine that goods are dumped pellmell on the counters of the big stores. As a matter of fact, 1 Aaln A if mill koVA AV.irV. Uie Olllt'lCIll oaiooiau/ nu? ?*? ???.# thing so arranged that she will not'ce the disappearance of an article almos. immediately. If a saleswoman suspects a per* ? she immediately notifies the head de tective. If It Is a woman, a woman detective is usually put on the Job. Ir is said store managers usually hnd women more efficient than men. Few arrests are ever made in th? stores, as an arrest gives on'y vndesirable publicity. The detutive usua'ly follows suspected persoas trum the store and arrests him or her outside. It Is said that arrests for shop!:fling in New York exceed S.Ouo a vear. In that city a full description of all shoplifters caught are sent to the Re tail Dry Goods association, which in turn distributes the Inti mation to the various members. Only by concerted action and with highly organized staffs of detectives can the stores cope with the ingenious snopnrters. The detective system of the big stores, however. Is now so perfect that it is dangerous to attempt shoplifting. Even the cleverest shoplifter faces a long jail term in the pursuit of her nefarious work. More than that, if a shoplifter for any reason should escape paying the penalty of crime in one city she may not be so fortunate in another. Descriptions of all suspected persons are sent out broadcast, and arrest In another city may mean a Jail term, even though the thief may have escaped punishment previously.? Philadelphia North American.