Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, September 12, 1911, Image 1

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ISSUED SEMI-WEEKLY?^ l m GRIST S SONS. Publisher. [ $ jfamilp fleirspapei;: tfor Hit proiuolioit of the political, Social, Agricultural and (Tommcrcial -interests of the people. j ESTABLISHED 1855. YORKV.LLLK, S. C, TI'KSDAY, SSKI'TK.M ItlOII I vi, 1011. NO.'"i-i. ft 4-2-4 4- 4, 4. 4- 4 4, 4- 4. S ^ A D AR1 ^4 By ETTA V K< ^ ^ ?f-4 ^ Hj CHAPTER H Suicide or Murder! Hke Poole stood at his barroom win Bv in the morning sunshine, looking B on the dull main street of Black H*t. Suddenly a splendid carriage ^Phed by the inn door. A colored jg| Ho hman in livery occupied the driEgS ^P's seat, and a pale, high-featured Hntleman, wrapped in costly furs. Hded upon the luxurious cushions of ^Be vehicle. At the sight a thought ^ erced old Ike's muddled brain. "Bless my soul, Mercy!" he cried, in ^Kudden remembrance, "Rob Oreylock |^r didn't come back here last night!" Mercy Poole, with her sleeves rolled up over her dimpled, brown elbows, and a big work-apron about h? r comely person, was washing the bar, and H setting the shining glasses in order upon it. She did not turn or look. "Have you just found that out?" Ew she answered--Mercy seldom wasted lal respect on her erring parent?"But I , needn't ask. You were so far gone i I when you staggered to bed last nignt that you didn't know who was in the house or out of it." 'Til own 1 have my failings. Mercy," , whined old Ike; "but you mustn't be , hard on me?you, my own daughter. | I'm mighty glad that Bob found a , lodging in his father's house. There , goes the old man now, grand as a lord, ; and stiff as a pine-tree. Blackport ] folks never liked him, and never will. , Well, it's a good thing that he's recon- , ciled. at last, to his son. Young folks ean't see with the eyes of old folks, and j I go for to say that the boy, in this free country, had a right to choose his j own wife." 1 Mercy Poole left her glasses, and , stalking up to her father, stared over his shoulder at the receding carriage. , "Yes," she said, sharply, "they've made it up, or he'd have been back | before this." "Did you wait up for him last night, , Mercy?" "Yes, I waited up." I "You were always fond o' Rob," said , old Ike, "and he o' you. I hope he'll , bring his wife and young 'un to the , Woods now, and make things lively here." I The dark, fierce face of the girl grew ( gray as ashes. "You talk like a fool!" she cried. , Hinging passionately back from the I inn-keeper, and then, with a great eitort she continued. "Of course he will bring liis wife and child here, why not? Do you think I care? Rut I didn't suppose ( it would turn out like this?I didn't < suppose his father would forgive hint si. soon. He is called a hard man." "flood lud!" cried old Ike, imprudently. "One would think from your | tone, pal. that you felt sorry the gov'- ( ni.r's heart had softened that much." | Into .Mercy Poole's face tlained a fierce crimson. Sin- laid one strong hand on his shoulder. "If you were not my father I would shake you? The 'gov'nor,' it seems, didn't take his forgiven son to ride with him this morning; he might have done that just to show Blaekport folks that he was friends with him again." "That's so," pondered ..Id Ike. "I 'spose there isn't a mistake anywhere, eh? Rub didn't come to the inn last night and find locked doors, and so go off to some other lodging place, did he?" Mercy turned and went back to her work at the bar. The two had the room to themselves. The big stove was redhot as usual, and the sunshine lay in bright patches on the floor?ev Ierything was sure to be clean where Mel'e.v Futile presided. "Three mure uf these glasses cracked!" she said, holding tip the damaged Vessels to the light: "I would like to smash them altogether over the heads uf the old sots who waste their time her??Caleb Frown in partietilar. The doors were not lurked at all last night, dad. I?o you think fur the good name of the inn that 1 would let such a thing happen? I waited up myself for Robert C.reylock. and that he didn't come 1 can take my oath, for 1 never closed an eye all night." Ike Foole had by nature a dull brain, and the cup that inebriates had nut tended to make it more brilliant, but something in his (laughter's tone made him stare. "Kh? l>?r" now! That was hard for you, and proper friendly toward Robert. Well, kin is kin No doubt the old man welcomed him with open arms, and killed the fatted calf and all that. Now. Mercy, how is it that you never think of getting married, like other gals'.' I wish you'd bring a man here to help me look after the inn. There's plenty of Rlackport fellows hanging round, making eyes at you take your pick. You're smart and you're handsome?a gal like you oughtn't to go longer without a mate." She turned on him with a short, unpleasant laugh. "Let the Rlackport fellows hang about and make eyes much good may it do them: but when you see me mat 9H ?luU, tliiTf ii <' - snips kuiiiiik MB iIk- suit meadows, aii?l you ami your precious cronies will have reused t i drink ki'ok together. 1 am tin- only one who will ever In-Ill you take rare of the in. Marry'.' You'd better he wary lloW Villi lllelll ioli that Sllb jee t, lot" it 3 stirs iii me more tleumiis than were e\? r east oat oi Mary Ma<dc|eiie7" There was something so startling in tie- look ami tone of tlic handsome V iXe||. that old Ike WUS obliged to |{o 8$; behind He' bai for a drop oi rum to - ! I .or', lor'." In said to himselt as Ml I'l'V | tie k II11 1111 lle| pail of Soapsuds and Weill out "She's a eousarned tin? brand that's what she is' I can't think what it is that's nuiie across her (>|? < I lis III III" IJINI > ilI "I "I'lii" niiisti r ? * -> lurk W Is r?n|?" l?y I'iioI's Iiiii anain ami a^ain aH?T dial iin>riiiiitf. ami ilirnituli all Ili>slit t ls < !' i:la< U|?*rt. I"ii( al im tiim was his son s? < u with liim I ?a\ sin i iiil"il day Tln-iv was little il iin in ii ii iia I i< "ii I \v i x I llif villa ami 4. i- 4. 4. 4 1- 2. i- 2- 4J ?rC DEED | f \ 9<T 4 V. PIERCE * 4 ^ *? "b % ^ "fc "V "f3 tin* sleepy old town on the shore. The l>eople nt Poole's Inn heard nothing more ahout the returned prodigal, and all their curiosity concerning him remained ungratified. Inclement weather prevailed and as it happened, no person traversed the path across the marshes and over the old salt-pits. The ancient town pursued the even tenor of its dull, uninteresting way, until, at the end of a week, something happened. one hitter morning a man came riding at full gallop up the frozen avenue to Greylock Woods. It was Dr. Jarvis, the Blackport physician, and the only being in the place who might he said to approach to anything like intimacy with the autocrat of the villa. "Where is Mr. Greylock?" he said to the servant who answered his ring. "At breakfast, sir." "I must see him at once?I have news for him." After a brief delay the Blackport doctor was ushered into a charming breakfast room, where, on a hearth of Persian tiles, burned an open woodfire, and where Godfrey Greylock, the very picture of a Sybarite at ease, sat at his morning meal, with his spinster sister. Miss Pamela. The small round table was spread with fine damask, and ornamented with Serves porcelain, massive silver and a huge vase of hothouse flowers. The odor of roses and lilies mingled with that of hot muffins and French chocolate. As the doctor entered, Godfrey Grey lock, with his velvet dressing grown wrapped ahout his slight, delicate person, was leaning hack in a carved oak chair, snapping his fingers at a Siberian bloodhound that was stretched on a rug by his side. "I regret to say," began the doctor, making his best bow to Miss Pain, "that 1 have been sent here as the hearer of evil tidings." In person Miss Pamela Gre.vlock was lhe feminine counterpart of the brother whom she feared more than loved, hut tliere the resemblance ended. In mind and heart the two were utterly unlike. A gentle, timid little lady, with emotional tendencies was Miss Pam, and for months she had borne her nephew Robert upon her heart. As the doctor spoke her thoughts flew to him instinctively. With a cry, she started up in her chair. "Sit down. Pam," commanded the autocrat, in a tone that made her drop us if shot, "shall 1 bid mv servant set another plate, doctor?- No? You have taken breakfast? Absurd, at this hour. The Blnckport natives are a primitive people. May I ask the nature of the IM'W.n yuu hi'iiik na. The doctor was an old man, In-nsque hut kind. He averted his eyes from fjodfrey fjivyloek. and answered, in a low Voice: "It relates to your son Robert." "Oh!" gasped Miss Pain. "Pamela, will you have the goodness to ke. p quiet*."" said tlodfrey (Jrcylook, as she calmly attacked a dish of chick* en; "your nerves of late seem sadly unstrung - you had better consult Jarvis concerning them. Doctor, perhaps you do not know that my son is to me a very disagreeable subject. I must ask you to keep your tidings for awhile. I make it a point never to be disturbed during meals?you, as a medical man, must know that it is highly injurious. At my age one cannot safely allow one's digestion to become impaired." "True." said the doctor, gravely, "yet such news as I bring ought to be delivered at once"? (Jodfrey (Jrcylock interrupted him with a wave of his delicate hand. "I refuse to listen! I confess that I am an epicure, doctor, and my breakfast at the present moment is of far more importance to nie than my son." "Hut. my dear friend?you do not know"? "Pardon* 1 know quite as much as I wish to. doctor, until my inner man is satisfied. Here arc the morning papers?lake ? read?do anything you like, but refrain from disturbing me at this critical time." "fjodfrey I beg you" ventured Miss Fain, l>ut In- silenced her l?v a single look Willi a troubled face !? . Jarvis seated himself to wait. Truly this was an odd s<>rt of a father wh?? could refuse to listen to important news of his only child, on tin- ground that such might spoil u good breakfast. Miss Fain had pushed hack from the talde, and was white with anxiety. The doctor chafed and fumed, and regarded tin- epicure with open horror, while tin- latter deliberately emptied dish after dish, maintaining an air of replied languor through it all. yet eating like a cormorant, and unite oblivious, as it Seemed, of his sister's agitation and lack of appetite. Kvery moment seemed an hour to tin- doctor, who had no time t" waste, and to whom tin* position was vastly uncomfortable. particularly as poor Miss Fain was searching his lace with agonized looks of inquiry. Hut ihulfrcy (!reylock showed no haste. lie sipped his chocolate lazily, tossed I its of chicken and crumbs of miifIiit to the Siberian hound, rang I'mfresh disln-s. and otherwise tried the doctor's patience p. the utmost. As for Miss Fain, she was well-nigh frantic. "I'eallv." cried the exasperated Jarvis. at last. I cannot remain lure longer, Mr. iSrevlock; and neither can I go with iii.v errand undone." The master of Ihe Woods dl'opped his fork, and threw himself back in his carved cliair. with an air which, in a IcSS IVlillt-tl |l. is..ii, 1iiiviii ii;i\. i.. . ii .all.-.l sulky "W. IIV" Ik- ;tlis\\t |. i|, "w licit i|u y.m wish t<> s;i> In ii V" Tin- t|...-iiir I....k. il |iii |. manually Mr. i?r?*> lin k." hi- ;iiis\\"vvlu ii liil viiii last srr y.iiir smi l'.il?-rt"" "My s.iii IJ.il.i'i't" Why i-all liiiu |{.il..11" i in.- wi.iilil think I lia.l a i|..z> ii s>.its. ait.I thai a. li must I..- tin* 11 i.111 -II h\ his | ia It hi i la i IiUiiii* I saw him a I week ago, kill- one dismal iiijr. Mis intention :11 that time was t>> leave this part of the eouiitry for tile Far West." "And you have heard nothing from Itiin since?" "iVrlaiuly not. I did not wish to hear anything." Tiie old doctor grew graver yet. "My dear sir. Robert supped at Poole's Inn the evening he visited you here, and on starting for flreylook Woods lie told the inn people that, in ease of his failure to see tire your forgiveness. lie should return to them for a night's lodging. Mercy Poole, it appears. waited up for him till morning, but he did not appear, whereupon everybody at the tavern concluded that you nan oecome rmmnieu iu jmiui son. and detained him here at the Woods. Early this morning a Blackport fisherman had occasion to cross the marshes to that piece of ground where the old salt-pits are, and there he stumbled upon a frightful thing? the dead body of a man!" The doctor paused. Miss Pain sat as if bereft of speech. "How very disagreeable." said Godfrey Oreylock, flinging another bit of chicken to the hound. "Evidently," went on the doctor, in a low voice, "the corpse had lain there for a week. An ugly wound in the left breast told its own story, and an empty revolver was found on the ground by the poor fellow's side, (toil help you. CJre.vlock?that dead man was"? The master of the Woods leaped up from his chair and looked the speaker straight in the eye. "My son?" "Your son!" It seemed to Dr. Jarvis that the cold, pale face into which he gazed did not change in the least. There was no deepening pallor, no contraction of muscles. The words which seemed sufficient to crush the life out of this childless father, overwhelm him with remorse and anguish, glanced from his heart like pebbles off armor. "He was killed the night he left this house?" "Beyond doubt." "That is strange. I gave him money: was he robbed, also?" "No. The sum of five hundred dol' O CO ?fO o fi.it 11*1 t It t U t ill hi? Milf'k'Ht i\ 1 - IU1 O ?) UO I "II I' VI IIIVUV v a w | ? ... ?, so his watch. The fisherman who discovered the Imdy ran immediately hack to town for help. At the inn that young grenadier in petticoats, Mercy Poole, went off in a dead faint when she heard the news. I was one of the first to reach the spot." The Siberian hound leaped suddenly up from the rug and began to howl. His master made a quieting gesture. "Was it murder or suicide?" lie asked. in a composed voice. "That we cannot as yet decide," the doctor answered, feeling that this Spartan father was, indeed, a strange study. "The fact that the money was found in his pocket untouched, and that his hand was fairly frozen to the revolver, seems to point to suicide; but that will In- determined at the inquest. I am a coroner of this district, and the weapon by means of which the poor fellow, without doubt, met his death, is in my possession. Ah, good Ilea veil! look at Miss Pain!" The poor lady had fallen speechlessly forward on the elegant breakfast table. Here was one heart, at least, that finally loved gay, handsome Hob- ' ert tfreylock. Without a word the master of the Woods rang the bell for assistance. The servants carried Miss Pain to her own room. Then Dr. Jarvis, who was watching at a window, turned to (lodfrcy (Jrcylock, and said, impressively: "My friend, prepare yourself for that which is at hand?the remains of your unfortunate son are being brought home to his father's house." Yes, he who had been thrust out in anger jlist one week before, the tlllforlriveii urodiiral. was returning, indilfer <ii now t<> the welcome which awaited him, deal' alike to endearments ami reproaches. A little procession advanced slowly np the great avenue, under tinevergreens, their feet making a monotonous thiul on the frozen ground, their heads uncovered in the ghastly presence of death. With a cloth spread decently over it, they hoiv that which ha<l once lieen Robert ilre.vlock. That short, unlucky life had conic to a dark and sudden close. In midnight and solitude and mystery, among the old salt-pits on tin* edge of the lonely marshes, the curtain had dropped abruptly on the tragedy of his little day, ami Sylphide, tlx- ballet-dancer, was a widow. With a firm step tin- master of the Woods advanced to the door which his servants had opened, to meet tin- ghastly procession. His face was like a stone mask. Dr. Jarvis, who followed him, searched it in vain for some sign of grief <>r remorse, (lodfrey fjreylock did not wear his heart oil his sleeve. With a hand that never trembled he rear-lied and lifted the cloth from the face of his son ?that face upon whieli tin- disfiguring touch of death had been set for seven days. Kohert fJreylock's nearest and dearest would scarcely recognize him imw. I'nder the curious gaze of the hearers, under the half pitiful. half reproachful eyes of Dr. Jarvis, this Spartan father stood for a iitoI meiit straight and stony, with one end of the cloth clutched in his bloodless tinkers; then he swayed and went down like a log at the feet of those who carried his dead soli. The man was made of tlesh and hlood alter all. This was the way that Itohert <!reylock canie lioiin* for the last time to his father's home, and no one denied him admittance now. In his pockets letters were found, unpaid hills and memoranda, all unimportant, yet nvcaling something of the miseries of his brief married life, tjodfrey tjreylock sent in haste for the one lawyer of lilaekpoii. and placed tin* hills in his hand. "iJo. pay these immediately," lie said. The legal gentleman turned to depart. hut was restrained b\ Dr. Jarvis. who chanced to he present. "Mr. ?!r< \ ventured ttie iuivsi? i:iii. ""\ mi- son hail a wife. Will vnii liol not i|'\ |i. | of her lllisliaiiil's ileal 117 She 111list he suH'eriiiu ureal anxiety eoiii eiiiiiiu him." Tile look Oil I 11 III ll'eV I 5|e\ look's faee was like ilie lii'eakinu ii|? ?'l i? when sprint; Moods ale mil "True." he muttered, with a shudder. I had I'olUotteU lief VeS, .Melvili. I i I id tie- woman and hrint; Iht here, and In i I'lliI I with her " The messenger l|e|i;il'led ll'olll lilui'k|ioit ?.\ the iie\| train. Karly in the afternoon he stood at the door of that West-end lodging house, where Robert Oreyloek had lived, and loved, and quarreled with his fair wife Iris. He rang the hell, and Martha, the disheveled niaid-ofall-work, answered it. "I wish to see Mrs. Robert Oreyloek," said the messenger. "Oh, lor'!" cried Martha, starting nervously back, "she ain't here, sir; she's gone? they're all gone, the whole family?and two months' rent due for the room, and the landlady as mad as a yard full of cats." "Whither has Mrs. Oreyloek gone?"' demanded the messenger. "I knows no more than the dead!" answered Martha, mildly. "She went off one night a week ago in a carriage, with a gentleman that used to send her flowers and things, and we haven't seen or heard of her since." The lawyer's face grew preternaturally grave. "Ah! And where is the child?" Tlie simple query threw Martha into a strange panic. "Don't ask me!" she cried, incoherently. "I had nothing to do with it. I'm allers Named for everything that happens in this house, from the chimneys that smoke its Idind to the folks that run off with their rent not paid. The child? oh, lor'! what am I saying? The mother took it, in course." There was a secret on the girl's mind. Not a moment's peace had she known in the last week. On that fatal night when she had heen set to watch the Greylock baby, and, recreant to her trust, had fallen asleep by its bed, Martha on the stroke of eleven, awoke to find the cradle empty, and her charge gone?gone, with not the smallest clue to the mode of Ms departure. The house was still as death, plaint/ its inmates were asleep. In great t?r ror the girl ran around the room searching everywhere for the missMig infant, then out upon the landings and all about the house she went, listening for some sound of it. but in vain. The sick child was gon??stolen, abducted. Consternation overwhelmed her. Would she he held answerable for its safety? Would she be called upon to produce it at any cost? And failing to do this what would her punishment be?fines, imprisonment or hanging? Martha was timid and cowardly. To shield herself, by fair means or foul, was her first instinct. But how could she face the mother on the return of the latter from the play? Time passed, and Sylphide did not return. The night wore on, yet she came not. Then a thought struck the stupid brain of the maid. Perhaps it was Mrs. Oreylock herself who has taken the child?indeed. now that she considered the matter, nothing could lie plainer. No other person could have entered the chamber successfully, and made off with the little thing in darkness and secrecy. . So. next morning, when it was noised ..i. ..., ili., ill.,i ill,. Ctrevliiek fain iIv had disappeared, and when the landlady and the other lodgers began to question Martha about the infant, her story was ready. "I gave the ehild its medicine," she declared, "and it was sleeping sound, and I was a-lcuning back in my chair with eyes closed, but not dosing, oh. no! wide awake, when in comes Mrs. Ureylock, all in a Mutter, from the play, and she just snatches up her baby and throws lur shawl around it, and goes out. and I so dazed 1 couldn't say a word, and, anyway, it wasn't my business to stop her, for the child was her own property." To this little fabrication Martha had ever since adhered so tenaciously that she now began to believe it herself. And when this Hlackport lawyer stood on the lodging house threshold and overwhelmed her with questions, after the first guilty panic, Martha told her lie again. "Lor* sir, Mrs. flreylock took the baby away the night she went off for good. She had quarreled with her husband that day?a right-down battle the two had?and after the play she came back for her baby, and carried it, the Lord only knows where! 'Twas sick. T watched with it myself, and the doetor said it couldn't live." "Vail your mistress, girl." cried the lawyer. "I must hear the whole of this story." (To be Continued.) ENGLAND'S LARDER. It Might Be Stripped Pretty Quickly If She Had a War. will, ui.ii.v lu'iiiirinir foreign food supplies into Kugland at the rale of i;4:t4 worth every minute of every ilay in tlie year t:resit Kritain esimiot aeetlinulate a sloek of provisions law enough for a year's supply, some experts say not enough for half a year. "Others llollht If We eoulil llolil out for three motitlis without foreign supplies." says the (jueen, "ami all agree Unit three weeks war. or even threat of war. won hi enormously ineresise the priee of IstulTs. In the ordinary way the proportion of food ami ilrink brought over the sea is over 4per eel it of our total imports, heing in round figures C2fiii.iiiio.iMio out of a total of Cfifitt.tMMi.iMMi. of this sum CTO.ihim.Mini goes for grain and Hour alone, ami nearly fifty millions for meat, in addition to sixty-three millions fiir food sind drink not otherwise speeilied. and exi'ludiug lil'ty millions for food. I rink and tobacco subjeet to duty. "What we as a nation have t > fear is not invasion but starvation. To the gloat mass of the people of this eouiltry iIn- 11iieslion is not "Shall we win or lose iii war'.' but. shall we have eliollgll food (o live >11 w hell tile lleXt big war runies'.' It is to meet such an emergency that (lie use in this country of silos for grain, or national granaries, has been advocated. "The cost of creating and maintaini..?? w-il..*: (nielli I... ciiliuiil..|*:i till*. tlliiliull \\ < SllppuSe till' rust III' sill}. !? iIi'i';iiIii<iuk1iI wnulil easily euvi-r it: I 111 as an insurant*!' against punie it \\ 111<I well In- w in lli I In* expense, while as a. sal't-nuai'il in time u| war. aiiti aKainst iiiiinilii-nl famine it wuiilil ! in valid lilt-, ami i i k It t easily turn defeat i lit it virtmy ami ilisasli-r I ? sa i'i-iv. "i li lira I la i is |iruvisiiiiii*<l fur l\vi? years ami Malta has silus whieh keep ruin Kmm| fur as lung as fmir years. I tins SII|I|IU|| j||? tile truth III' I lie Itililieal staten11-iit that Jusi-ph in tIn* ilr.v eliiuali- uf Kk.v'pi I'eil iln- peupli* willi eurii stuieil I'm- seven years. The idea is i In- gradual eulleetiuii uf an ainiitliit uf wheat eipial In mie year's impurl and its autumatie reiu-wal hy i-vehaimiiiM it fur tin- new main as it arrives al the different purls." H. C. BEATTY JR. IS DECLARER GUILTY; Virginia Wife Murderer Convicted by Jury. _ | DEATH SENTENCE NOVEMBER 24TH. i Jury Took the Papers. Kneeled In Prayer, Gave the Whole Case Care tui consideration, ana was oacs in | the Court Room In Less Than an [ Hour. Chesterfield Court House. V;i.. \ Sept. 8.?Twelve Virginia farmers knelt at dusk tonight in the obscurity 1 of the small jury room of Chesteiiield court house, praying fervently that \ they might pass judgment aright on Henry Clay lieattie, Jr.. indicted for the murder of his wife. Crimly de- ^ termineil they arose a moment later . and silently, one Ly one. recorded the s unanimous verdict of "guilty." Causing in solemn contemplation , for lifty-eight minutes, weighing care- I fully the meaning of their decision ^ and once more on bended knees heseeching Divine assistance that they t might not err. they tiled into the hushed stillness of a crowded court run in and with startling suddenness twelve voices, instead of the usual one . of the foreman, spoke the single word \ "(Juilty." a Receives Verdict Coolly. It was almost a shout. The specter j, of death which stalked Midlothian <i turnpike on July IS last when the life of Mrs. Louise Owen Reattie was taken away with the single report of a s shotgun, stared hard at the young a husband, ready to claim its victim by s electrocution on Friday, November (| 24. Hut the prisoner returned the gaze, unswerving and unafraid. The court of appeals, to be sure. will be asked to grant a writ oi error ,| and a new trial. Voting licattie, cog- \ nizant of the legal weapons yet .'it his disposal, did not surrender. Instead. J he consoled his broken-down father, n white-haired and wrinkled, and coin- 11 foiled hint its lie whispered: e "I haven't lost yet. father. ' I'll usual as has been the tragedy and the gruesome stage where it oc- s rurrod. the twelve jurymen did not li hesitate to admit to their friends that J1 they stood in judgment not only over the cold-blooded murder, but upon \ his marital infidelity as well. It per- ' haps was the dramatic climax of Vir- .v 11 gtnia justice which in the last half- p century has swiftly sent to death such t famous murderers as Cluverius. I'llil- <1 ips and McC'ue. c Wendenburg Convincing. At the close of a powerful address . by L. U. Wendenburg. the voluntary J assistant of the common wealth in the , case, the suspense was felt not alone * in the courtroom but in Richmond where thousands of people waited the ,! outcome. The jury had for eleven days heard J1 evidence, for two days speeches, but the words of Wendenburg rang in their ears as they left the court room to liinl their verdict. t "Let that man go free," he cried, d "what, let that man go free! \\ liy 'I the motherhood of Virginia, the wo- o manhood of this nation, will shudder > in terror as the security of its life is s threatened. Let this man go free! y The man who basked in the degraded li sunshine of another woman, while at his home a young wife nursed his f child! < J en I Ionian. I merely ask you li in the name of justice to do your I duty." li ?/!..: jl, viviaiy ruriiji/s w> > ? In vivid details. tin* prosecutor '' portrayed the wife as she started oil her innocent journey into the cool air of a summer night. The jury saw * again in their minds the automobile " in which she rode heside her lilisliand. ' how Heatlic stepped into the darkness of the thicket, found the shot-gun I. which he had earlier concealed ami . deliberately slew his wife. ., The desperate ride home with a bleeding and lifeless body crushed into the small space in the front part of the machine, the husband coldly i sitting against the blood-covered head s of his wife, were graphically detailed I to the jury, duly passing attention I was given by Wendeiiburg to the pur- < chase of the gun by Paul I'.eat tie. a a cousin of tin* accused. The defense a had claimed, lie said, that on Paul's story alone was built the case of the s prosecution hut lie held aloft til** f blood-stained clothing of the prison- t el' "as tile mute evidence of the i crime." and asked: :i "Do you want any other evidence?" I Displays Bloody Clothing. Itlood decked the loWel* fringe of the shirt in deep black blots; not a mark was on either sleeve of shirt or i coat. The prisoner had said that In* i held his wife with one hand ami steer- . ed his car with the other hut the ah- i seiiee of blood oil tin* arms, the pros- i editor declared, gave the lie to his \ story. Not alone with the clothing i did tin* prosecutor disentangle what s he termed "the cheapest fabrication r of the cheapest llltl I'd el'," hilt lie | shouted shame at the prisoner for i his relations with it mere slip of a r girl, from the age of 1 :t until within | his own married life, and held her <! forth as the motive for the crime. i "And tin- prisoner admits that it i was his passion." said Mr. Wendell- .? burg. "Yes it was passion, but pas- i si.*i. i...en ..r in., in.vii Mini mission < that si-nt to death his wife so that he n might continue his vicious pleasure." s Mr. WTndcnhurg concluded his ail- a dress a few minutes after live |>. in. j A hrief respite was given the jury ami i at a.L'.s 'iicluek it In gan eonsiileralion ? of I lie ease. Minds Already Made Up. Kor lilty-eight minutes, they were | together in deep consultation, a jury | of simple farmers who each morning s sang hymns and strove to forget the j story of dissipation with its tillhy i chapters as related day after day on | tile witness stand. What had heen t gciiii.iily predicted was true their | minds were well made up In-fore they j h ft the court room. \V. T. ISurgcss. | a si|uare-jttwed man. with an earnest I face, was elected foreinaii. t They balloted end it was no stir- s prise, they afterwards declared, that fj all voted alike. They prayed that | they might not take a life in vain and \ tlley Opened their consciences to one | another for nearly an hour, so that i tlu-y might go hacli to the court loom liruily convinced of their duty and of < one iiiiuil. I Beattie's Nerve Endures. ' And in the court room sat Henry j i'lay Ileallie. Jr.. the sporting page of a newspaper spread before him 111| I III- did not read long. ill- folded the paper and concealed his face in it .* Those who sal near the hoy of iron lierve observed a IlloVe ill tile twitch- I ing of his lips as though murmuring a a prayer as lie sal with closed eyes I. awaiting lite return of tin- jury. lie ;i raised his head for a moment, drop- i peil the paper again and began read- i ing. Then lie whispered a few words | to his father and brother. It was for t tllelll III felt and to till-Ill lie cotllisell- e ed cheerfulness. a - I ...I. I I V II w.is i n ; 11 i \ u.n n in rimiii when (In* jury ivt unieil. Three nil l;ilil|>s KiiVe Iin;it;i'l lltsler In III- I si-i-im . Sunset's i-?-iI rsivs still stiv;i k- \ I 111i-i>11lc11 tin- vvimliiu's. tin every I sill rested :i |i-li'Ltr;i|ili instrniik-iit ;iml ;i n|M i :itni s teiisvlv \\:iil? ?! I".?r I In* :m- \ imuiuiniint ill (In- verdict. A 111ii k iiisiss nl' faces rising in ;in incline In tin* shnliliy i-i iliiiK stared at tin* Juryii)i*ii. Kainniis jurists |miki*il down. Inn. frmn lly-spcckcd pa in lilies. In I Ik* iiiiihIs nl' tin* KnpinK crowd n*ii 1:1 iiii*iI ;l*?* llinii^lit nf tin* powerful -iiiii li nf tin* pmsrcutiir ami liis d*** 111111i i;11i 11 nf Hi. man "who exehniiK I (In* jslinv nf viriiii* fur passion's fi*i*lili* tapers." The Dramatic Moment. "I'll.* rnlll'l askl'il till* I Il'isi ill I *r ill rise. Ill ii|i\v himself up caiiiuy mil ua'ii-d. "Han1 yiiti _:i-iitli'iiii'ii agreed nn a v*i i*i I ii t ?" asked Judge Walsnn. "\V?* havi* " said Kinoiiinn Iturgcss. Tin* prisoner hail t'uiitiilriitly i*\ii'rtml a "hung jury." not acquittal inr conviction. Thi* cnurt requested lie audience run to mnniiesi us apu'oviiI <>r disapproval whatever tnc /erdiet. "And what is your verdict?" ask d Judge Watson, turning again to foreman Hurgess. "tJuilty," answered Burgess, but iiis nice was swelled by the shout of leveii others. I"nversed in law or the forms of i murder trial, the jurymen had not ipeeitied what degree of murder. \sked what degree. Mr. Burgess aniwereti simply "guilty as indicted." 'iider Virginia practice murder is resumed to lie second degree UllleSS therwise specified. It was incum eiit upon tile jury to fix the degree, to Judge Watson advised the jurymen 0 confer again on the point and sev n minutes later they conformed, this im with the verdict of "murder in lie first degree." Hears Doom Calmly. The prisoner stood erect and moioiiless. His face, in color a yellowsli green throughout the day. was hitiiobile. 'file light of a lamp east 1 dreary shadow on Ids upturned chin is he faced the jury. His eye-lids agged, hut did not blink. In steady :alie fastened his eyes on the faces >f tlie twelve men who had pmnouncd his punishment as if to penetrate heir minds and determine the reason rhy. It was not a resentful expresion. however, and when the court i.-?ked if the prisoner had anything to ay. he answered. "I have nothing to say." and sat low II. The perfunctory motions for a new rial were made by counsel for the de iisc. iiit- usual granting <'i I'crnission fWii to argue the* point was Ii*iiici] as Judge Watson in a stern nice declared that ill rulings of the ourt were < n comparatively unmportant detail and in no way could lave inlluenced the verdict. A stay f execution was granted, however, in rder to give counsel an opportunity o apply for writ of error when the ourt of appeals meets in November. Judge Lectures Prisoner. Judge Watson delivered an impresive speech to the prisoner. He told low the young man had stained his iwn life and that of the community n which he lived by his sordid acts. \ hen the trial lirst began, said Judge Vatsoii. he hud hoped that Virginia night be cleared of the crime for k'liich not only the state felt shame, nt the entire country deprecated. He lad hoped that counsel would prove lie defendant innocent, but tlie evilelice. he regretted to note, was all oiivineing and overwhelming. "The court in this trial," said Judge Vatson, "has endeavored in all its lecisions to lean toward the side of he prisoner and in its charge to the ury as well attempted to give him lie benefit of every doubt and every pportunity to establish his innocence, 'lie rulings mostly have not been ii matters of law but on small t|Uesioiis of fact. Sentenced to Death. "You have had a fair and impartial rial. Mr. Meat tie, and the jury has one what it considers its duty. 'Ilcl'efore. you have been convicted >l? murder in the lirst degree and on Coveinbef '!. between the hours of utilise and sunset, you must forfeit our life to ihe community. Alay (!o?l iave mercy on your soul." A moment later, by the side of his alitor and his brother. Douglas, their leads bowed ill grief, walked young teal tie in the darkness to his cell a 11111 I ft *< l yarns away. Hut the drama of tin* day was not vt r. A sharp report and a Hash flit tile thick idackness outside. "My tind!" exclaimed Judge W'at<iii as through his mind Hilled the ante thought that startled hunilreds round him. Hut it was not another tragedy. The irisoiier was seen walking calmly on. "he detonation was an unusually leavy charge of a photographer's lashiight. Finds Relief In Tears. The crowd lingered at the jail and cored into the cell illuminated by a ingle lamp. on the lied with his lead in his hands sat Heattie. his other and brother beside him. Jailer 'ogbill sent the curious away. Only i few saw the prisoner break down ml Weep ill the Solitude of tile cell. An hour later the hamlet was decried. a few hundred yards away rim the stone jail i na small hotel welve men gathered their belongings n silence, and one by one they drove iway into the darkness to the simple tomes from which for a fortnight hey had been absent. As to Beulah. Heiilah Hinford. the girl of the uiilerworld the woman in the ease whose 'elatioiis with young Heattie furnish d a dominating feature of the pros-' eulioii's case, did not figure us a witless during the trial. Neither side nis willing to call her. ImmediatelyI ipon her release from the jail where lie had been held for possible testinony she disap| eared from Kieliiiond. hurried to New York and alnost at the hour when the jury was egistering its verdict that carried the tenuity of electrocution for her quonlam eompanioii she was posing for notion pictures at Stateii Island and inrsing theatrical ambitious. Step by ti p during today's arguments Attoriey Harry M. Smith. Jr.. associate otinsel for the defense, had endeavreil to show that young Heattie's ti.ry was entirely eoinpatible with his etioiis and the testimony before the lir.v. lie reviewed the evidence to lulicate the danger of eircumstantial viileliee. Wenderburg's Argument. Attorney \Yctidenhtirg for the state o ld up the shirt that the prisoner iad worn and charged that Heattie at against his wife's lifeless body n^ii'inl of Ind11i11g lii-r with one hand in his di'spi-rate riilt- in i In* < >\vi'ii nune after tin- iniKi-ily. II'- i i-I'i-i ri'il a tin- clothes sis 11 iil - li-stiinuiiy t<i rismier's Ktiilt. Ili- ridiculed tin* ilc.i iif si lii-sinI -II, 1111k111 w 11 ssiant liKhw ayiiiaii of Jim |m.iiiiiIs weight al wiiiK "this littstripling uf k'fi" l'i-altii-1 In Isik. away llu- Klin ami i-iiiili-il lIn- probability uf sm-li a liant walking away wlu-n in the grap>li tli. ari-tisi-il It'll t<i tin- ground villi tin- Kim Mr. Wfiiiioiihnrg ssii.l hat young Ht-siilif on I lit* niKhl of the iiiinli-r |>111 mi (In- iilili-st suit In* lia.l "lit- was I ii i t-ln-si|i." ssi hi I hi- prose nliir. "in s|?>il any lull I lit* nhh-st suit n- had willi I In- Id I of his wife." flu prisoner m-i voiisly liiiKi'i'i-d a ih-dal two lingers di-notiiiK thai lie tail worn tin- suit (win- liel'iire. Gave Jury Re ,pite. Tin- arguments were i-oiu-ludi-d at i.us p. in Judge Watson had (In- jury xi-i-i-ist-.l in tin- opi-n air for fifteen 11i11nl --s (i|- so. Wln-n tin* prisoner Isii was given a hri.-f airing on lln> a w is a IdK l ow d surged around him lid Ik- askc.l I., l.e t;.k.-l. lo Ills cell ii I In- jail. Soon In- ri'Siinii'd his seal ii i In- luir. JinIk.- Watson hrielly deiVel'e.l III!' I'.'ISI' lo llle Jlir.V. Wllit'll IViied at fi.l's p. 111. Tin- i-oiirt inIt>|-tii' it...I il- ll.-.e .i..W1I-...I I., v.... II I 111 III lfl.lt II 1 ll' l 11> ..I' tin- .-xliil.its in ill.- i-iisi- tiny i..ill.I I..- I>r<?uuht liy Sln iil't Cill. At il.Jii 11. in.. ili<- jury r.-iiirn.-.l l<> In- ?- >11rI r<i.>111 .-in.I .-iiiiiuiiiu-.-.l its .-uli.-l ..I' 111111-<I.-1 It was s.-nt l.a.-k i. lis ill.- .l.-m*-.- an.I al'l?-r Im-mik <>iii I...ill iiiin- ii.iiiiil.-s. i-.-tui'ii.-.l willi tin i.li.-l ..I' in ii r.l.-r in 11 it- first .l.-yr.-c Defense Begins Fight. The defense then mailt* its tight for ninety ilays within which to tile its |M*titinii lor a writ of error t the state supreme court of appeals. Prosecutor Wolidenhiirg objected to what In* termed tin* unnecessary delay in the ailniinistratioii of justice in this case. Mr. <'arter claimed the defense had already heeii forced to an early trial, hut November 24 was tinully set as the day to which execution of sentence Wollhl he deferred. The court adjourned ill I.-- |>. 111. REPORT OF GINNERS. Work of Baling Is More Advanced Than Usual. The ginning of cotton of the growth of 1911 was carried on more actively throughout the cotton licit to September 1, this year, than in any similar period in the history of the industry, at least as far as accurate ginning records have been kept. This is shown by the first ginning report of the season compiled by the census bureau from reports of its correspondents in the cotton growing states. A total of 771.4 15 bales had been ginned up to a week ago. This is greater by almost three hundred thousand bales than the previous record, made in 190.1. The continued hot and dry weather in a greater portion of the belt, especially in Texas, was chiefly responsible for the increase. These conditions meant the early maturing of the crop 1 >tit this alone is considered not the cause of tlie greater ginning. Farmers have been more active in getting their crop to the ginneries, and it is said, in some counties of Texas, where the bulk of the increased ginning was reported. the entire crop practically already has been ginned. Little relation appears to exist, according to census bureau experts, betwen the size of the crop and the quantity of cotton ginned during any period of the season. This is shown in the big crop years of 1904. 1906 and 1908, each of which produced more than 13.000.000 bales. In these years the percentage of the total crop ginned to September 1 was 3.8, 3.1 and 3.1 per cent, respectively, while in 1905, when the crop was lo.soo.ooo. 4.5 per cent i?f it was ginned by September 1. Txist year 3.1 per cent of the total crop was ginned to September 1. The first cotton ginning report of the season, issued last Friday by Director B. Dana Durand of the bureau of ttic census, department of commerce and labor, shows that 771,4 lf? bales, counting round as half bales, had been ginned from the growth of 1011 to September 1, compared with 353,011 bales of the growth of 1910 ginned to September 1. 1910; 338,242 bales for 1909. and 402,228 bales for 1908. Round bales included this year are 6,994, compared with 10,976 for 1910 11,537 for 1909, and 20,862 for 190S. The number of sea island bales included is 539 for 1911, 218 for 1910, 1.236 for 1909 and 1,221 for 1908. Comparisons of the number of bales, counting round as half bales, ginned to September 1 for the past four years, follows: States. 1911. 1910. 1909. 1908. Ala 40,500 4.196 13,535 26,298 Ark 170 28 449 323 Fla 3,764 608 3,542 2,524 flu 134,075 20,491 106,301 64,693 l?a 7,616 1,101 3,450 4,618 Miss 1,849 538 1,670 4,330 N. C 1,209 4 1.070 101 i >kla. ... 4,205 393 1.370 8 S. C. .. . 13,907 208 18,949 9,399 Tenn .... 5 4 6 Tex 559,114 325,435 237,901 289,928 Other Sts. 14 11 BAGDAD, MEXICO. A Wicked City That Prospered and Then Was Wiped Out In a Night. There arc a few people still living in Matanioras who remember the riotous' town of Itagdad, which at the height of its prosperity had a population of nearly lii.ooo and was the neutral port through which practically all tiic cotton from Texas and other southern states was exported during the civil war when the southern ports were blockaded. Ilagdad was on the Mexican side of tbe Rio (Irande near the mouth of the river, about twenty-live miles east of Matanioras. With the closing of the southern ports by I'uioii blockading 1 ,U "eelfti ?,f t i 11. I i i \ i r || nllt \ r.wi> in*- urt-t wuj ?/? UMU...O let for cotton am) an inl?*t for supplies became urgent. It was in response to this demand that Bagdad came into being. The population of Bagdad was cosinopoliian. Thieves, fortune hunters, bandits. adventurers and the riffraff of the seven seas gathered there and revelled in the gold that Mowed through the plaee. Finally the town met tlie fate of its Biblical predecessor in crime. Gomorrah, and was completely destroyed. in October. IstJT, Bagdad was swept away by a combination hurricane and tidal wave. More than 3.0't'i lives were lost, and not a vestige remains to mark the site of the town. It vas annihilated in one night. It. M. Miller, who came from New Orleans to Matatnoras in lstls and established a merchant business her", is still a resident of the town. "Dining the latter days of the civil war." said Mr. Miller, "and immediately following the close of that strife crime and chaos ruled this part <d' tin- border, both on the Mexican and the Texas side. "I remember that shortly after my arrival in Matamoras I had business that took me to Bagdad. A regular stage line was operated between the two places, and taking this lumbering vehicle one morning 1 and several others started on the trip to the wonderful port. A few miles out of town we were held up by a band of brigands led by Juan Cortina, the notorious bandit chief, and robber of all our money. A little further on another band of thieves stopped us and relieved us of our watches. "I had friends in Bagdad and decided to eontinue on the journey. Arriving in the town I found conditions the most remarkable, I believe, that ever existed in any place of similar size. The narrow streets were thronged with hundreds of drunken and vicious people. All nations were represented in the uncontrollable mob. Negroes from the West Indies, Frenchmen. t'ubans. tlreeks. Italians. Spaniards. Portuguese ami men of iM-aily every other nation were represented in thai riiitniis population. "Murder and robberies wviv of almost hourly occurrence. tJamblers plied their vocation upon the streets. < >ne night in the town was sutticieiit for me, I vividly reineniber. however, the scene presented iii the harbor. I counted twenty-two steamships and many sailing vessels waiting to discharge and take cargoes. "Pagilad was believed by the people at that lime to have a promising future as a deep water port. Millions of dollars worth of trallie poured over its wharves, but with lite closing of the civil war and the ending of the efforts of Maximilliuu to obtain control ol* .Mexico tile future of the mushroom port and town did not seem to be so bright. It could Hot have survived litany more years even bad it not been destroyed by the great storm." Modest Job.?Tlie.v were discussing ;i I 1111 4*11 MJIU'.S Mfll.'IIIM Willi liutl IMTII a railroad attorney before In* heeatne Jl statesman, and who, many thought, had not given up his joh when he assumed his toga. " It's all rot!" said a man who knows the senator, "lie never was a railroad attorney exeept to go out and try damage eases Why. all that man ever was was a eow-eoroner!" Saturday levelling I'ost. BATCH OF OHIO SNAKE STORIES. Some Ancient Tales About Reptiles In the Middle West. The first serpent nf its rare which started utit hy destroying the prospeets of the whole human family in tile Harden of Kdeti, the .Midgat'd serpent of X >rse mythology, and the almost equally ancient sea serpent of periodical bathing place notoriety have perhaps stimulated more imaginations than any other imlivduals of their species, but none of them has anything to do with one fine eollec lion of snake stories which is familiar to every student of North American ethnology. These stories, says The New York Sun. begin 1,500 or perhaps 2.000 years hack, when the parent stock of all the Algonkian tribes still lived up in Canada north of the strait of Mackinac and most of the Iroquoian family lived north of the St. Lawrence. The country south of the lakes, the Ohio valley, was the abiding place of it tribe of serpents of tremendous size, who when not doing business elsewhere were likely to appear suddenly and unexpectedly in the Algonkian or the Iroquoian country, to the consternation of the peaceful human inhabitants. Sometimes a single serpent would come rolling across the country. his head sticking up like a factory chimney above the top of the tallest forest, and sometimes a party of them made day and night hideous for the wretched villagers, whom they regarded as suitable fare. The first of these invaders, according to one Algonkian story, desired to destroy all human beings out of pure unadulterated cussedness, a trait showing his close relationship to the serpent of the Garden of Eden. Not satisfied, apparently, with his own swallowing capacity for that purpose, he brought with him an undescribed monster, three other indivduals of unclassified kind, and a flood. rFI*.. ll<i/\d o t b.. mi kiiutni'c frt(/uf llur materially reduced the Algonkian population, but the remainder climbed up on the Turtle Island, or Mackinac. until Michabou. the Hercules of Algotikian mythology, came to their assistance and put a quietus on the Hood and its author together. Another Algonkian story preserved by the Chippewa* is that a number of serpents, perhaps to retaliate for the first one's defeat, attempted to blot Michabou himself out of the universe. They were taught the difference between a man warrior and a wideawake. full-sized demi god when Michabou skinned the white chief snake of the party alive, and covering himself with the skin as a convenient kind of armorplate chased the remaining reptiles back into their own country before they realized that they had been headed in that direction. The Iroquoians, competitors of the Algonkians in everything else, seem to have resolved early not to be outdone by the latter in the telling of snake stories. The Senecas relate that a serpent besieged their forefathers in a fort on the hill Gerundewah, in northern New York, by the effective process of coiling himself entirely around the fort. Some of the inmates, attempting to escape, walked down his throat, whereupon one of the tribe who from the inside of the defences hail prudently watched the disappearance of his relatives conceived the idea of experimenting upon the monster's vitals with a poisoned arrow. The expedient was so successful that the serpent went rolling down the hill, clearing off the timber as he went, and disgorging the heads of the people whom he had swallowed into I^ike Canandaigua, where they still remain in the shape of large black boulders. Some patriotic Seneca, realizing the deficiencies of this narrative, seems to have improved upon it. for his tribesmen have another version, asserting that two serpents besieged the fort and that both were disposed of by a reckless young warrior. who made love to the female snake of the pair. The Tusearoras apparently understood that the snake idea per se had been developed to the limit in the Seneca legem! and, therefore, to acquit themselves creditably added horns to the enormous reptile, which, they affirm, once appeared south of Lake Ontario provided with a breath so poisonous that a multitude of the Iroquoians died from inhaling the infected atmosphere. This last snake of the series so far outclassed the Seneca serpent in formidableness that presumably poisoned arrows were inadequate to the occasion, for a storm of thunderbolts was required to expel him from the Iroquois country. The indestruetiveness of this horned serpent, so impressed the imaginations of the Cherokees that they believe him to be still in existence and in some of their sacred formulas invoke >iis favor and help as a great medicine god. Some archaeologists do not regard these tales as mere examples of the human mind's inherited ambition to excel in snake fiction. They recognize them as myths, that is historical accounts with most of the facts left out and the remainder popularly exaggerated. They find otln r statements in the ancient histories of the Algonkian and Iroquoian tribes which show clearly that the monstrous snakes were really human tribes, who. like the ancient Mexicans and Central Americans, worshipped a snake god along with the sun deity. These snake people built more than one earthern representative of their ophidian deity in wnai is now souin wesiern unn>. The celebrated Serpent Mound in Adams county. Ohio, which is a quarter of a mile long, seems to be the model from which the Algonkian and Iroqitoian historians pit their idea of proportion in describing the size of their forefathers' adversaries. Made Fast Time.?The New York Times has made the interesting experiment of sending :i telegraphic message around the world, directed to itself. No especial arrangements were made in advance, the message being tiled in the telegraph office in a purely commercial way, with the ordinary press request to "please rush." It was rushed. The message was sent west and was received from the east by the same operator who sent it exactly sixteen minutes and thirty seconds later. Kleven years ago ('resident Itoosevelt and Clarence II Macko.v sent a dispatch around the world in a fraction over nine minutes, but on that occasion special arrangements had been made and every operator along the route of ifS.t> 1 miles was sitting at his key ready to speed tin* message along its secured right of way. The speed made by the Tillies message was. though, rapid enough for all practical purposes. The message was tiled at exactly 7 o'clock Sunday night. It passed through Manila, H.ltio miles away, sixty seconds later, at .vol o'clock Monday morning, allowing for the thirteen hours added for tile difference in time. Sixteen relays Were made during I lie journey, which gave an average speed of twenty-nine miles a second. During its entire journey around the world the Times message travelled north of the equator. It is an interesting question wln-th cr tin* lieu win-ifss nn-iinm <n s?*miiiik iiii ss;ik?'s will enable I In- Times'.* ririinl fur eoinnnrcial messages ai'nllllil lilt' globe to III- lowered. Ilixhesier, N. V., Deinnerat and t 'bl'olliele.