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fe Q ^/EOOND EPL/DDE fN THE LIFE OF AMELIA BUTTED '-s=s" BY ANNA KATHAPINE GPEEN-^ AUTHOR Of’THF LFAVCMWORTH CA/t* "BEHIND CUytD DCOR/* 'THAT AFFAUi NEXT DOOR* 18^7. BY ANNA K.ROHLF/-— CIC. ETC ^ COPYRIGHT CHAPTER XV H. THK FLOWEtt FAKLOB. Tho lower bull did not correspond ex actly with the one above. It was larger, and through its connection with tho front door presented the shape of a let ter T—that is, to tho superficial observ er who wdl not acquainted with the size of the house and had not had the opportunity of remarking that at the extremities of the upper hall making this T were two imposing doors usually found shut except at mealtimes, when the left hand one was thrown open, dis closing a long and dismal corridor sim ilar to the ones above. Half way down this corridor was the dining room, into which I had now been taken three times. The right hand one, I had no doubt, led tho way into tho great drawing room or dancing hall which I had set out to see. Proceeding first to the front of the house, where some glimmer of light penetrated from the open sitting room door, I looked the keys over and read what was written on the several tags attached to them. They were seven. The largest was marked “A.” Two of lesser size had “Gray Parlor” and “Library” severally written on their tags, which, by tho way, were dog eared ami discolored as if years had passed since they were written on and attached. “Blue Parlor” designated a fourth, and upon the others I saw some such words as these: “Flower Cabinet,” “Shell Cabinet,” “Dark Chamber”—all very suggestive and to an antiquarian like myself most alluring. But it was upon the key marked “A” I first fixed my attention This should open the large door at tho extremity of # the upper hall, and when I made a trial with it I found my conjecture correct, for it moved easily though somewhat gratingly in tho lock, releasing the great doors, which in another moment swung inward with a growling sound from their rusty hinges that might have been startling to a nervous person filled with the legends of the place. But in me the only emotion awakened was one of disgust at the nauseous char acter of the air which seemed to envelop me in an instant. Had I wished for any further proof than was afforded bv the warning given me by the condition of tho hinges that the foot of man had not lately invaded these precincts, I would have had it in the moldy atmosphere and smell of dust that greeted me on tho threshold. Neither human breath nor a ray of outdoor sunshine seemed to have disturlK'd its gloomy quiet for years, and when I moved, as I presently did, to open one of the windows I could just dimly see in the distance, I felt such a movement of something foul and noi some over the decaying rags of the car pet through which I was stumbling that I had to call into use the stronger ele ments of my character not to back out of a place so given over to rot and the creatures that infest it. “Whataspot,” thought 1, “for Ame lia Butterworth to find herself in,’’and wondered if I could ever wear again the $3 a yard silk dress in which 1 was then enveloped. Of my shoes I took no account. They were ruined, of course. I reached the window in safety, but could not open it; neither could 1 move the next. There were 1(5 in all, or so I afterward found, and not till I reached tho last (you see, I am very persistent) did I succeed in loosening the bar that held its inner shutter in place. This done, I was able to lift the window, and for the first time in yt ars perhaps let in a ray of light into this desolated apartment. The result w r as disappointing. Moldy walls, worm eaten hangings, two very ancient and quaint fireplaces, met my eyes, and nothing more. The room was absolutely empty. For a few minutes I allowed my eyes to roam over the great rectangular space in which so much that was curious and interesting had once taken place, and then, with a vague sense of defeat, I turned my eye out ward, anxious to see what view could be obtained from the window I had opened. To my astonishment, I saw be fore me a high wall with here and there a window in it, tightly barred and closed, till by a careful look about me I realized that I was looking upon the other wing of tho building and that be tween these wings extended a 9 mrt so narrow and long that it gave to the building the shape, as 1 have before said, of the letter U. A dreary prospect, re minding one of tho view from a prison, but it had its point of interest, for in the court below me, the brick pavement of which was half obliterated by grass, I caught sight of William in an attitude so different from any I had hitherto seen him assume that I found it diffl- cult to account for it till I saw the jaws of a dog protruding from under his arms, and then I realized he was hug ging Saracen. The dog was tied, but the comfort which William seemed to take iu just this physical contact with bis rough skin was something really to have seen. It made me quite thoughtful for a mo ment. I detest dogs, and it gives me a creepy sensation to see them fondled, hut siu- cerity of feeling appeals to me, and no one could watch William Knollys with his dogs without seeing that he really loved the brutes. Thus in one day I bad witnessed the best and vorst in BiG man. But wait I Had I seen the worst? 1 was not so sure that I had. He had not noticed my peering, for which I was duly thankful, and after another fruitless survey of the windows iu the wall before mo I drew back and prepared to leave the place. This was by no means a pleasant undertaking. I could see now wbat I had only felt be fore, and to traverse that space amid beetles and spiders required a detenni- natiou of no ordinary nature. I was glad when 1 reached the great doors and more than glad when they closed be hind me. So much for room A, thought I. Tho next most promising apartment was in the same corridor as the dining room. It was called the dark parlor. En tering it, 1 found it dark indeed, but not because of lack of light, but because its hangings were all of a dismal red and its furnitm j of the blackest ebony. As this mainly consisted of shelves and cabinets placed against three of its four walls, the effect was gloomy indeed and fully accounted for the name which tho room had received. I lingered in it, however, longer than I had in the big drawing room, chiefly because tho shelves contained books. Had anything better offered I might not have continued riy explorations, but not seeing exactly how I could pass away the time any better 1 chose out another key and began to se arch for the flower parlor. I found it beyond the dining room in the same hall as the dark parlor. It was, as I might have expected from the name, the brightest and most cheer ful spot I had yet found iu the whole house. The air in it was even good, as if sunshine and breeze had not been en tirely denied it, yet I had no sooner tak en one look at its flower painted walls and pretty furniture than I felt an op pression I could not account for. .Some thing was wrung about this room. I am not superstitious and I do not believe one particle iu premonitions, hut ouce seized by a conviction I have never known myself to be mistaken as to its import. Something was wrong about this room—what it was my business to find out. Letting in more light, I took a closer survey of the objects I had but dimly seen at first. They were many and some what contradictory in their character. The floor was bare—the first hare floor I had come upon—but the shades iu the windows, the chintz covered lounges drawn up beside tables bestrewn with books and other objects of comfort if not luxury bespoke a place in common if not everyday use. A faint smell of tobacco told whose use, aud from the minute I recognized that this was William’s sanctum my curiosity grew unbounded and I neglect ed nothing wdiich would be likely to at tract the keenest eyed detective in Mr. Gryce’s force. And there were several things thereto bo noted: First, that this lumbering lout of a man read, but ouly on one topic — vivisection; secondly, that he was not u reader merely, for there were instruments in the cases heaped up on the tables about me, and iu one comer—I felt a little sick, but I persevered in searching out tho corners —a glass ease with certain horrors in it which 1 took care to note, but which it is not necessary for me to describe. An other corner was blocked up by a closet which stood out in tho room in a way to convince me it hud been built iu aft er tho room was otherwise finished. As I crossed over to examine the door, which did not appear to me to be quite closed, 1 noticed on tho floor at my feet a huge discoloration. This was the worst thing I had seen yet, aud while I did not feel quite justified iu giving it a name I could not hut feel some regret for the worm eaten rags of the drawing room, which, after all, are more com fortable things to have underfoot thau bare boards with such suggestive marks upon them as these. The door to tho closet was, as I had expected, slightly ajar, a fact for which I was profoundly grateful, for, set it down to breeding or a natural recogni tion of others’ rights, I would have found it most difficult to turu tho knob of a closet door inspection of which had not been offered me. But finding it open I gave it just a little pull and found— Well, it was a surprise—ufUch more than tho sight of a skeleton would have been—that the whole interior was taken up by a small circular staircase such as you find in public libraries W’hero the books are piled up iu tiers. It stretched from the floor where I stood to the ceiling, and dark as it was I thought I detected the outlines of a trapdoor by means of which communication was established with the room above. Anxious to be con vinced of this, I asked what a detective would do in my place. The answer came readily enough. “Mount the stairs aud feel for yourself whether there is a lock there. ” But my delicacy—or shall I ac knowledge it for once:—an instinct of timidity seemed to restrain me, till a remembrance of Mr. Gryce’s sarcastic look which I had seen honoring lesser occasions than these came to nerve me, aud I put foot ou the stairs which had last been trod—by whom shall I say! William? Let us hope by William, and William only. Being tall, I had to mount but a few steps before reaching the ceiling. Paus ing for breath, for the air was close aud the stairs steep, I reached up aud felt for the hinge or clasp I had every rea son to expect to encounter. I found tbs latter almost at ouce, and, satisfied now that nothing but a board separated me from the room ubovo x I tried that board wun my finger and was astonished to ltd it yield. As this was a discovery wholly unexpected I drew back and a ad myself if it would be wise to pur sue it to the poiut of raising this door, and had hardly settled tho question with myself when the sound of a voice raised iu a soothing murmur revealed the fact that the room above was not empty and that I would be committing the greatest indiscretion in thus tarn- p» ring with a means of entrance possi bly under the very eye of the person spcakL x. If tho voice I had heard had been all that had come to my ears, 1 might have ventured after a moment of hesitation to brave the displeasure of Miss Knollys by a venture which would have at once satisfied mo as to tho correctness of the suspicions which were congealing my very blood as I stood there, but another voice—the heavy and threatening voice of William—hud broken into this mur mur, and I knew that if 1 so much as awakened in him the least suspicion oi my whereabouts I vvould have to dread an anger that might not know where to stop. I therefore rested from further efforts iu this direction, and fearing he might bethink him of some errand which would bring him to the trapdoor him- s< If I began a retreat which I only made slow from my desire not to make any noise. I succeeded as well as if my feet had been shod iu velvet and my dress had been made of wool instead of a rus tling silk, aud when ouce again I found myself planted in the center of the flow er parlor, the closet door closed and no evidence left apparent of where I bad been or what I had heard, I drew a deep breath of relief that was but a symbol of my devout thankfulness. I did not mean to remain much longer in this spot of evil suggestions, but spy ing the corner of a book which I had ti t yet seen protruding from under a cushion of one of the lounges I had a curiosity to see if it were similar to the rest, and quickly drawing it out I took one look at it. I need not tell what it was, out after a hasty glance here and there through its pages I put it back, shuddering. If any doubt remained iu my breast that William was one of those monsters who feed their morbid cravings by experi- meuts upon tho weak and defenseless, it had been dispelled by what I had just seen in this book. 1 did not leave the room, however, immediately. As it was of the greatest importance that I should be able to lo cate in which of the many apartments on the floor above the supposed prisoner was lodged I cast about mo for tho means of doing this through the loca tion of the room in which 1 then was. As this could only bo done by affixing some token to the window which could be recognized from without I thought, first, of thrusting the end of my hand kerchief through one of the slats of the outside blinds; secondly, of simply leaving one of these blinds ajar, aud finally of chipping off a piece with the penknife I always carry, with innu merable other small things, in the bag I invariably carry at my side. (Fashion, I hold, counts for nothing against con venience. ) This last seemed by much the best de vice. A handkerchief could be discover ed and pulled out, a blind could be sbut, but a sliver once separated from the wood nothing could replace it or even cover it up without itself attract ing attention. Taking out my knife, I glanced at the door leading into the hall, found it still shut and everything quiet behind it. Then I took a look into tho shrubs aud bushes of the yard outside, and, ob serving nothing to disturb me, snipped off a hit from one of the outside edges of the slats and then carefully rt-closed the blinds aud the window. I was crossing the threshold when 1 heard a rapid footstep in tjje hallway. MLs Knollys was hastening down tho hall to my side. “Oh, Miss Butterworth,” she ex claimed, with one q:,ick look into the room I was leaving, “this is William’s den, the one spot he never allows any of us to enter. 1 don’t know how tho key came to be upon tho string. It nev er was before, aud 1 am afraid he never will forgive me. ” “He need never know that I have been tho victim of such a mistake,” said I. “My feet leave no trail, aud as I use no perfumes ho will never suspe< that I have enjoyed a glimpse of the old fashioned walls aud ancient cabi nets.” “The blinds are a little open,” she remarked, her eyes searching my face for some sign that I am sure she did not find there.* “Were they so when you came in:” “Some, but not so much as now. Shall I put them as I found them?” “No. Ho will not notice. ” And she hurried mo out, still eying me breath lessly as if she half distrusted my com posure. “Come, Amelia,” 1 now whispered iu self admonition, “tho time for exer tion has come. Show this young wom an, who is not much behind you in self control, some of the lighter phases of your character. Charm her, Amelia, charm her, or you may live to rue this iuvasiou into their secrets more than you may like to ackuowledge at the present moment.” A task of some difficulty, but I rejoice iu difficult tasks, aud before another half hour had passed I had the satisfac tion of seeing Miss Knollys entirely re stored to that state of placid melancholy which was the natural expression of her calm but unhappy nature. We visited the shell cabinet, the blue parlor and another room the peculiari ties of which I have forgotten. Fright ened by the result of leaving mo to my own devices, she did not quit mo for an instant, aud when, my curiosity quite satisfied, I hinted that a short nap in my own room would rest me for the evening she proceeded with me to the very door of my apartment. “The locksmith whom I saw this morning has not kept his word, ” I re marked us she was turning away. “None of the tradesmen here do that,” was her cold answ-er. "T have given up expecting having any attention paid to my wants.” “Humph,” thoughtL “Anotherpleas ant admission. Amelia Butterworth, this has not been a cheerful day. ” This story will bo continued in next Friday’s issue of The Ledger. IN ANSWER To A Circular Letter Headed, "Who Is It. L.. Caugliiuan?” A scheming politician who has slandered his opponent since the first primary, and tried to rob him of his good character. He is not the author of the Jim- Crow car bill. Dr. Stuckey, of Orangeburg, is the author of the Jim- Crow car bill and not B. L Caugh- man. W. D. Evans, of Marlboro, wrote the bill which prevents railroad compunies fr< m forcing white women to ride on a coach with negro men THE OPERATIVES’ ENEMY. Here is what a factory operative writes of B L. Caughmau : “A hile we were on a strike in the Horse Creek Valley, B. L. Caughman came among us and made bitter speeches against the mills to get us to vote for him for Railroad Commis sioner, while VV. Boyd Evans sent us money to help support us, and we shall vote for him for railroad com missioner.” B. L Caughman while a member of the Senate supported a labor con tract law to make slaves indeed of free men. AN ENEMY TO EMPLOYEES OK RAILROADS Here is what an employee of the railroad writes of B L. Caughman : l ‘B. L. Caughman, while a member of the senate, worked and voted for a bill to make all employees of the railroads be insured by an insurance company gotten up by the railroads, and they to make monthly assessments on the employees’ wages or the em ployee would lose his job,” WHAT A MEMBER OK A KRATERNAL ORDER SAID ABOUT 15. L. CAUGHMAN. ‘‘B. L. Caughman had printed on his cards the sacred emblem and sign of a frateroal order, against its con stitution and by-laws, in order to try and gain votes forhimstlf, thereby violating his oath and obligation to the order.” Let every good man teach B. L Caughman a lesson by returning him to his home where he belongs. Vote for W. Boyd Evans, the man for Railroad Commissioner I UoctorM Could Not Help Her. “I had kidney trouble for years,” writes Mrs. Raymond Conner, of Shelton, Wash., ‘ and the doctors could not help me. I tried Foley’s Kidney Cure, and the very first dose gave me relief and I am now cured. I cannot say too much for Foley’s Kidney Cure.” Cherokee Drug Co. The mandarin duck is one of the most beautiful of aquatic birds. « H > A New Jeraey Kditor'a Tt-Htliuoniul. M. T. Lynch, editor of the I’hillipo- burg, X. J., Daily Post, writes: “I have u-ed many kinds of medicines for coughs ami colds in my family, but never anything so good as Foley ’s Honey and Tar. I cannot say too much in praise of it.” Cherokee Drug Co. Few people know what they don’t want until after they get it. I »vd for I'ueumouia. Dr. J. C. Bishop, of Agnew, Mich., says : “I have used Foley s Hone> and Tar in three very severe cases of pneumonia with good results iu every case.” Refuse substitutes. Chero kee Drug Co. Dyspepsia sours a lot of the milk of human kindness. To Cure w Cold iu One I>ay Take Laxative Bromo (Quinine Tab lets. All druggists refund the money if it fails to cure. E. W. Grove’s sig nature is on each box. 25c. Sleep over it and you will come to a resolution. D.ckey’s Dyspepsia Cure cures in digestion, sour stomach, heartburn, costiveness, gnawing and burning pains at pit of stomach, sick head ache. Try it. One bottle will give you relief. S. B. Crawley & Co. He who knows but little quickly tells it. Foley’s Kidney Cure makes the diseased kidneys sound so they will eliminate the poisons from the blood. Cherokee Drug Co. The must learueo are not the wisest. For a bad taste in the mouth take Chamberlain’s Stomach and Liver Tablets. For sale by Cherokee Drug Co. A cat never cries over spilled milk. Dickey’s Blood Cure eradicates all poison and impurities from the blood. It cures scrofula, rheumatism, sypb- illis, old sores, tetter pimples, and all diseases arising from impure blood. 8. B. Crawley &Co. —The Gaffney Live Stock Co. will loan you the money to buy a buggy or wagon with. An angry man heeds no counsel. <§&A ^yrtrtrt^ fhia signature la on every box of tho genuine : Laxative Bromo-Quinine Tablets Ik* xemedy that can* • Over-Work Weakens Your Kidneys. Unhealthy Kidneys Make Impure Blood. All the b’-coo in your body passes through >ur kidneys or.ee every three minutes. The kidneys are your blood purifiers, they fil ter out the waste or impurities in the blood. If they are sick or out of order, they fail to do their work. Pains, aches and rheu matism come from ex cess of uric acid in the blood, due to neglected Kidney ♦rouble causes quick or unsteady heart beats, and makes one feel as though they had heart trouble, because the heart is over-working in pumping thick, kidney- poisoned blood through veins and arteries. It used to be considered that only urinary troubles were to be traced to the kidneys, but now modern science proves that nearly all constitutional diseases have their begin ning in kidney trouble. If you are sick you can make no mistake by first doctoring your kidneys. The mild and the extraordinary effect of Dr. Kilmer’s Swamp-Root, the great kidney remedy is soon realized. It stands the highest for its wonderful cures of the most distressing cases kidney tr.-uble. and is sold on its merits by all druggists in fifty-1 cent and one-dollar siz es. You may have a sample bett'e by mail iiom. of Swamp-Root, free, also pamphlet telling you how to find out if you have kidney or bladder trouble. Mention this paper when writing Dr. Khmer St Co., Binghamton. N. Y. Summons for Relief. State ok South Carolina, < Court of coki County or Cherokee. ( mon Pleas. S. M. McNkkl, PlaiutiiT. against Fannie K. Uoss, IH-fcndant. Summons for rolief. complaint not served. To the defendant above named:—You are hereby summoned and required to answer the complaint in this action, which in this day tiled in the office of the Clerk of the Court of Common Fleas, for the said county, and to serve a copy of your answer to the said complaint on the subscribers at their office at Yorkville, South Carolina, within twenty days after the service hereof, ex clusive of the day of such service; and if you fait to answer the complaint within the time aforesaid, the plaintiff in tills action will apply to the court for the relief de manded in the eomplaint. Witherspoon & Spencers, Plaintiff’s Attorneys. August tmtli, A. 1). 1902. Notice to Voters. The Legislature having created there vot ing precincts In the town of Gaffney instead of one. all v< ters who vote in Gaffney are noti- lied to bring up their certificates to be re- numbered according to law on first Monday in October. O. E. Tate. J. A. VVhixonant. H. Gibbon. Members Hoard Registration. Fridays until Cct. 1st. KIDNEY DISEASES are the most fatal of all dis eases. or money refunded. Contains remedies recognized, bv emi nent physicians as the vest for Kidney and Bladder troubles. PRICE 50c. and $1.00. THE STORY OF STONEWALL JACKSON. I have taken the agency in Cherokee county to sell ihe Story of Stonewall Jack- son a narrative of Ids career from written and verbal accounts of Ids life. It is ap proved by bis widow, Mary Anna Jackson, and dedicated to Julia Jackson and Thomas Jackson Christian, grandchildren and sole surviving descendan s of General Jackson, who are beneficiaries in the publication of this book, written by William ('. (')ia^e. The book bus 500 pages with over 150illustrations. Tills is a work of the Confederate veteran-, and sons and daughters of Confedera'e vet erans to show some tat,gitile proof of their appreciation of the high Christian character and soldierly qualities of their illustrious chieftain. Stonewall Jackson, by helping his sole descendants, who are tone the benefi ciaries of tins work. Here is what Gen’l. C. I. Walker, comman der of the U. C. veterans army of Northern Virginia, says: COKESBUHY. S. C , June 4th, 1902, To my Comrades:— This will introduce Comrade J. L. Strain, wlio is engoged in the patriotic work of pre senting to our people “The Story of Stone wall Jackson,” which sets forth with won derful clearness the* noble Jife. high charac ter and magnificent services of our great Christian hero. The grandchildren of Gen’l. Jackson are direct ly interested in the sale of the i)ook and will be benefitted thereby. 1 have consented to take charge of this work in South Carolina. Any favor or cour tesy you mav extend him will be to my per- Bonal advantage and I will appreciate most highly any assistance you may give him. Yours very truly. C. Irvine Walker. Sept. 5th.l-uwk-At. One Minute Cough Cure For Coughs, Colds and Croup. Fohy’s Kidney Cure makes kidneys and bladder right. One Minute Cough Cure Fop Coughs, Colds and Croup. Aside from what Generals Wade Hampton, Fit/hugh Lee. W. I> Cabbeil and others say of it the Ijook is its own exhorter. The lift character of this grout man is a benediction upon the world of mankind, and should be read and studied by every boy and girl, not only iu Cherokee county*but throughout Christendom. 1 expect, as soon as possible, to make a canvass of Cherokee county with the book, but in the meantime would beglad tofiH any orders i may receive for it and will deliver it j at the earliest convenient moment. The price of the l>ook is: Ou fine grey elo.h and silver embossing, - {2.75 On plain morocco aud gold emboss ing. ....... $3.75 Address J. L. STRAIN. Etta Jane. S. C. g&‘Fov sale by Cherokee Drug Company. NOTE HEADS, 1000 FOR . . . $1.50 ti tt 2000 “ . . . $2.50 it ii 5000 “ . . . $5.00 ENVELOPES, 1000 “ . . . $1.75 II 2000 “ . . . $3.00 II 5000 “ . . . $6.25 A LETTER HEADS, BILL HEADS, STATEMENTS, AND EVERT KIND OF PRINTING AT LOW PRICES. ORDERS BV MAIL PROMPTLY j TE LEDGER, - GAFFNEY, S. C.