University of South Carolina Libraries
montn wr.n neat am aryness tnSt i iby beside him like one dead. CHAPTER XVII. I TAI.K WITH ALAN IN TIIK WCK'D OF 1.KT- TERHOKR. CHAPTER XVI. THU DEATH OF THE RED FOX. "“S ^ . N . Just Inside the shelter of the trees I found Alan Llreck standing, with a fishing rod. The Beat day Mr. Henderland found for me a man who had a boat of his own and was to cross the Linnhe loch that afternoon into Appin, fishing. Him he prevailed on to take me, for he was one of his dock, and in this way 1 saved a long day's travel and the price of the two public ferries I must otherwise have passed. It was near noon before we set out; a dark day, with clouds, and the sun shin ing upon little patches. The sea was here very deep and still, and had scarce a wave upon it, so that I must put the water to my lips before 1 could believe it to Im truly salt. A little after we had started the sun shone upon a little moving clump of scarlet close in along the waterside to the north. It was much of the same red as soldiers’ coats; every now and then, too, there came little sparks and light nings, as though the sun had struck upon brb ’it steel. I asked my boatman what it should be, and ho answered he supposed it was some of the red soldiers coming from Fort William into Appin against the poor tenantry of the country. Well, it was a sad sight tome; and whether it was because of my thoughts of Alan, or from something prophetic in my bosom, although this was but the second time I had seen King George’s troops, 1 had no good will to them. At last we came so near the point of land at the entering in of Loch Leven that 1 begged to be set on shore. My boatman, who was an honest fellow and mindful of his promise to the catechist, would fain have carried me on to Bala- chulish, but as this was to take me far ther from my secret destination I in sisted, and was set on shore at last un der the wood of Lettermore (or Letter- vore, for I have heard it both ways), in Alan's country of Appin. This was a wood of birches, growing on a steep, craggy side of a mountain that overhung the loch. It had many openings and ferny dells, and a road of bridle track ran north and south through the midst of it, by the edge of which, where was a spring, I sat down to eat some oatbread of Mr. Henderland's and think upon my situation. Here I was not only troubled by a cloud of stinging midgies, but far more by the doubts of my mind. What 1 ought to do, why I was going to join myself with an outlaw and a would be murderer like Alan, whether I should not be acting more like a man of sense to tramp back to the south country direct, by my own guidance and at my own charges, and what Mr. Campbell or even Mr. Henderland would think of me if they should ever learn my folly and presumption—these were the doubts that now began to come in on me strong er than ever. As 1 was so sitting and thinking a sound of men and horses came to me through the wood, and presently after, at a turning of the road, 1 saw four travelers come into view. The way was in this part so rough and narrow that they came single and led their horses by the reins. The first was a great, redheaded gen tleman, of an imperious and flushed face, who carried his hat in bis hand and fanned himself, for he was in a breath ing heat. The second, by his decent black garb and white wig, 1 correctly took to be a lawyer. The third was a servant, and wore some part of his clothes in tartan, which showed that his master was of a highland family, and either an outlaw or else in singular good odor with the government, since the wearing of tartan was against the act. If I had been better versed in these things I would have known the tartan to be of the Argyle(or Campbell) colors. This servant had a good sized portmanteau strapped on his horse and a net of lem ons (to brew puncli with) hanging at the saddlebow, as was often enough the custom with luxurious travelers in that part of the country. As for the fourth, who brought up the taii, I had seen his like before, and 1 knew him a>; once to be a sheriff's officer. I had no sooner seen these people coming than 1 made up my mind (for no reason that I can tell) to go through with my adventure, and when the first came alongside of me I rose up from the bracken and asked him the way to Aucharn. He stopped and looked at me, as I thought, a little oddly, and then turning to the lawyer, "Mungo,’’ said he, “there’s many a man would think this more of a warning than two piats. Here am I on my road to Duror on the job ye ken, and here is a young lad starts up out of the bracken and speers if I am on the way to Aucharn." “Oleuure,” said the other, “this is an ill subject for jesting." These two had now drawn close up and were gazing at me, while the two followers had halted about a stone cast in the rear. “And what seek ye in Aucharn?” said Colin Roy Camptiell, of Gienure, him they called the Red Fox, for he it was that I had stopped. “The man that lives there,” said L “James of the Uleus?” Mul (JlvBUr* musingly, and then to the lawyer, “Is he gathering his people, think ye?” “Anyway," says the lawyer, “we shall do better to bide where we are and let the soldiers rally us." “If yon are concerned for me," said 1, “l am neither of his people nor yours, but an honest subject of King George, owing no man and fearing no man.” “Why, very well said,” replies the factor. “But if 1 may make so bold as ask. what does this honest man so far from his country, and why does he come seeking the brother of Ardshiel? I h ive power here, I must tell you. 1 am king's factor upon several of these estates and ' have twelve files of soldiers at my | back." “1 have heard a waif word in the ! country,” said I, a lit'le nettled, “that you were a hard man to drive.” He still kept looking at me as if in doubt “Well,” said he at last, “your tongue is bold; but 1 am no unfriend to plain ness. If ye had asked me the way to the door of James Stewart on any other day but this, 1 would have set ye right and bidden ye godspeed. But today— eh, Mungo?" And he turned again to look at the lawyer. But just as he turned there came the shot of a firelock from higher up the hill, and wi f h the very sound of it Gien ure fell upon the road. “Oh, 1 am dead!” he cried several times over. The lawyer had caught him up and held him in his arms, the servant stand ing over and clasping his hands. And now the wounded man looked from one to another with scared eyes, and there was a change in his voice that went to the heart. “Take care of yourselves,” says he. "I am dead." He tried to open his clothes as if to look for the wound, but his fingers slipped on the buttons. With that he gave a great sigh, his head rolled on his shoulder, ahd he passed away. The lawyer said never a word, but his face was as sharp as a pen and as white as the dead man's; the servant broke out into a great noise of crying and weep ing, like a child; and I, on my side, stood staring at them in a kind of horror. The ^sheriff's officer had run back at the first sound of the shot, to hasten the coming of the soldiers. At last the lawyer laid down the dead man in his blood upon the road, and got to his own feet with a kind of stagger. I believe it was his movement that brought me to my senses, for he had no sooner done so than I began to scramble up the hill, crying out, “The murderer! the murderer!" So little a time elapsed that when 1 got to the top of the first steepness, and could see some part of the open moun tain, the murderer was still movii ; away at no great distance. He was a big man, in a black coat wit0 metal buttons,and carried a long fowling piece. “Here!” I cried. “1 see him!" At that the murderer gave a little, quick look over his shoulder and began to run. The next moment he was lost in a fringe of birches; then he came out again on the np]>or side, where 1 could see him climbing like a jackanapes, for that part was again very steep, and then he dipped behind a shoulder, and I saw him no more. All this time 1 had been running on my side and had got a good way when a voice cried upon me to stand. I was at the edge of the upper wood, and so now, when I halted and looked back, I saw all the open part of the hiil below me. The lawyer and the sheriff's officer were standing just above the road, crying and waving on me to come back, and on their left the redcoats, musket in hand, were beginning to strug gle singly out of the lower wood. “Why should I come back?” I cried. “Come you on!” “Ten pounds if ye take that lad!” cried the lawyer. “He’s an accomplice. He was posted here to hold us in talk.” At that word (which I could hear quite plainly, though it was to the soldiers and not to me that he was crying it) my heart came in my mouth with quite a new kind of terror. Indeed it is one thing to stand the danger of your life and quite another to run the peril of both life and character. The thing, be sides, had come so suddenly', like thun der out of a clear sky, that I was all amazed and helpless. The soldiers began to spread, some of them to run and others to put up their pieces and cover me, and still 1 stood. “Jouk [duck] in here among the trees,” said a voice close by. Indeed I scarce knew what 1 was doing, but L obeyed, and as I did so 1 heard the firelocks bang and the balls whistle in the birches. Just inside the shelter of the trees 1 found Alan Breck standing, with a fish ing rod. He gave me no salutation; in deed it was no time for civilities; only “Come!" said he and setting off running along the side of the mountain toward | Balachulish, and I, like a sheep, to fol low him. Now we ran among the birches, now stooping behind low humps upon the mountain side, now crawling upon all fours among the heather. The pace was deadly; my heart seemed bursting against my ribs, and I had neither time to think nor breath to sjieak with. Only 1 remember seeing with wonder that Alan every now and then would straight en himself to his full height and look back, and every time he did so there came a great faraway cheering and cry ing of the soldiers. (Quarter of an hour later Alan stopped, clapped down flat in the heather, and turned to me. “Now,” said he, “it’s earnest. Do as I do for your life.” And at the same speed, but now with Infinitely more precaution, we traced back again across the mountain side by the same way that we had oorne, only perhaps higher, till at last Alan threw himself down in the upper wood of Let termore, where 1 had found him at the first, and lay with his face in the bracken, panting like a dog. My own sides so ached, my head so swam, my tongue »9 bung ogt of my “/ thank God for that!” cried I. Alan was the first to come around. He rose, went to the border of the wood, peered out a little, and then returned and sat down. “Well,”said he, “yon wasahot burst. David.” 1 said nothing, nor as much as lifted my face. I had seen murder done and a great, ruddy, jovial gentleman struck out of life in a moment. The pity of that sight was still sore wtthin me, and yet that was but a part of my concern. Here was murder done upon the man Alan hated. Here was Alan skulking in the tree: and running from the troops, and whether his waS the hand that fired or only the head that ordered, signified but little. By my way of it, my only friend in that wild country was blood guilty in the first degree; I held him in horror; 1 could not look upon his face; I would have rather lain alone in the rain on my cold isle than in that warm wood beside a murderer. “Are ye still wearied?” he asked again. “No,” said I, still with my face in the bracken; “no, I am not wearied now and I can speak. You and me must twine” [part], I said. “I liked you very well, Alan, but your ways are not mine and they're not God’s, and the short and the long of it is just that we must twine.” “1 will hardly twine from ye, David, without some kind of reason for the same,” said Alan, mighty gravely. “If ye ken anything against my reputation, it's the least thing that ye should do, for old acquaintance sake, to let me hear the name of it, and if ye have only taken a distaste to my society it will be proper for me to judge if I’m insulted.” “Alan,” said I, “what is the sense of this? Ye ken very well yon Campbell man lies in his blood upon the road. Do you mean you had no hand in it?” “1 will tell you first of all, Mr. Bal four, of Shaws, as one friend to another,” said Alan, “that if I were going to kill a gentleman it would not be in my own country, to bring trouble on my clan. 1 would not go wanting sword and gun, and with a long fishing rod upon my back.” “Well,” said l, “that’s true!” “And now,” continued Alan, taking out his dirk and laying his hand upon it in a certain manner, "1 swear upon the holy iron ?had neither art nor part, act nor thought in it." “1 thunk God for that!" cried I, and offered him j»y hand. He did not appear to see it. “And here is a great deal of work about a Campbell!” said he. “They are not so scarce that I ken!” “At least,” said 1, “you cannot justly blame me, for you know very well what you told jue in the brig; but the temp tation and the act are different. 1 thank God again for that. We may all be tempted; but to take a life in cold blood, Alan!” And I could say no more for the moment. “And do you know who did it?” 1 added. “Do you know that man in the black coat?” “I have nae clear mind about his coat,” said Alan cunningly; “but it sticks in my head that it was blue.” “Blue or black, did ye know him?’' said I. “I couldnae just conscientiously swear to him,” says Alan. “He gaed very close by me, to be sure, but it’s a strange thing that 1 should just have been tying my brogues.” “Can you swear that you don’t know him, Alan?” 1 cried half angered, half in a mind to laugh at his evasions. “Not yet,” says he, "but I've a grand memory for forgetting, David.” “And yet there was one thing I saw clearly,” said I, "and that was that you exposed yourself and me to draw the soldiers." “It’s very likely,” said Alan, “and so would any gentleman. You and me were innocent of that transaction.” "The better reason, since we were falsely suspected, that we should get clear,” I cried. “The innocent should surely come before the guilty.” “Why, David,” said he, “the innocent have aye a chance to get assoiled in court; but for the lad that shot the bul let, I think the best place Tor him will be the heather. Thera that have nae dipped their hands in any little diffi culty should be very mindful of the case of them that have. And that is the good Christianity. For if it was the other way round about, and the lad whom 1 couldnae just clearly see had been in our shoes and we in his (as might very well have been), I think we would be a good deal obliged to him oursel’s if he would draw the soldiers.” When it came to this I gave Alan up But he looked so innocent all the time, and was in such clear good faith in what he said, and so ready to sacrifice himself for what he deemed his duty, that my mouth was closed. Mr. Hen- ierland's words came back to me—that we ourselves might take a lesson by these wild highlanders. Well, here 1 had taken mine. Alan’s morals were all tail first; but he was ready to give his life for them, such as they were. “Alan,” said I, “I'll not say it’s the good Christianity as I understand it, but it's good enough. And here I offer ye my hand for the second time.” Whereupon he gave me both of his, saying surely 1 had cast a spell upon him, for he could forgive me anything. Then he grew very grave, and said we had not much time to throw away, but must both flee that country, he because he was a deserter, and the whole of Appin would now be searched like a chamber and every one obliged to give a good account of himself, and I be cause 1 was certainly involved in the murder. “Oh,” says I, willing to give him a little lesson, “l have no fear of the jus tice of my country." "As if this was your country!” said he. “Or as if ye wopld be tried here, in a w entry of ate waits!" “It’s all Scotland,” said L “Man, I whiles wonder at ye," said j Alan. “This is a Campbell that’s been killed. Well, it’ll be tried in Inverara, | the Campbell’s head place, with fifteen Campbells in the jury box, and the big- ! gest Campbell of all (and that’s the duke) sitting cocking on the larnch. Justice, Darid? The same justice, by all the world, as Gienure found awhile ago at the roadside.” This frighted me a little, 1 confess. 1 asked him whither we should flee, and as he told me “to the lowlands,” 1 was a little better inclined to go with him, for indeed 1 was growing impa tient to get back and have the upper hand of my unde. Besides, Alan made so sure there would be no question of ; ju dice in the matter that 1 began to be afraid he might be right. Of all deaths I would truly like least to die by the gallows, and the picture of that uncanny instrument came into my head with ex traordinary clearness (as I had once seen I it engraved at the top of a peddler's ballad) and ook away my appetite for courts of justice. “I’ll chance it, Alan," said L “I’ll go | with you.” “But mind you,” said Alan, “it’s no small thing. Ye maun lie bare and hard and brook many an empty belly. Your bed sha'l be the moorcock’s, and your life shall be like the hunted deer’s, and ye shall sleep with your hand upon your weapon. Aye, man, ye shall taigle many a weary foot or we get clear. I tell ye this at the start, for it’s a life that 1 ken well. But if ye ask what other chance ye have I answer nane. Either take to the heather with me or else hang.” | “And that’s a choice very easily made,” said l, and we shook hands ui>ou it. “And now let’s take another keek at i the redcoats,” says Alan, and he led me to the northeastern fringe of the wood. Looking out between the trees we 1 could see a great side of mountain run ning down exceeding steep into the wa ters of the loch. It was a rough part, all hanging stone and heather and bie scrags of birchwood; and away at the ! far end toward Balachulish, little wee red soldiers were dipping up and down over hill and howe, and growing smaller every minute. There was no cheering now, for I think they had other uses for what breath was left them, but they | still stuck to the trail and doubtless j thought that we were close in front of them. | Alan watched them, smiling to him self. “Aye,” said he, “they’ll be gey weary | before they've got to the end of that employ! And so you and me, David, can sit down and eat a bite and breathe a bit longer and take a dram from my bottle. Then we’ll strike for Aucharn. the house of my kinsman, James of the Glens, wher • 1 must get my clothes and my arms and money to carry us along, and then, I ivid, we’ll cry ‘Forth, For tune!’ and take a cast among the heath' er.” So we sat again and eat and drank in a place whence we could see the sun go ing down into a field of great, wild and houseless mountains, such as I was now condemned to wander in with my companion. Partly as we so sat and partly afterward, on the way to Au- I chant, each of us narrated his adven- ! tures; and 1 shall here set down so much of Alan’s as seems either curious or needful. It appears he ran to the bulwarks as | soon as the wave was passed, saw me ! and lost me, and saw me again as 1 tumbled in the roost, and at last had one glimpse of me clinging on the yard. | It was this that put him in some hope i would maybe get to land after all and | made him leave these clews and mes- ; sages which had brought me (for my sins) to that unlucky country of Appin. In the meanwhile those still on the | brig had got the skiff launched and one j or two were on board of her already, when tltgre came a second wave greater than the first, and heaved the brig out of her place, and would certainly hare sent her to the bottom had she not struck and caught on some pro jection of the reef. When she had struck first, it had been bows on, so that the stem had hitherto been lowest. But now her stern was thrown in the air and the bows plunged under the sea, and with that the water began to pour into the fore scuttle like the pouring of a milldam. It took the color out of Alan’s face, even to tell what followed. For there were still two men lying impotent in their bunks, and these, seeing the water pour in and thinking the ship had foundered, tiegan to cry out aloud, and that with such harrowing cries that all who were on deck tumbled one after an other into the skiff and fell to their oars. They were not two hundred yards away when there came a third great sea, and at that the brig lifted clean over the reef, her cahvas tilled for a moment, and she seemed to sail in chase of them, but settling all the while; and presently she drew down and down, as if a hand was drawing her, and the sea clo ed over the Covenant of Dysart. Never a word they spoke as they pulled ashore, being stunned with the horror of that screaming, but they had scarce set a foot upon the beach when Hoseasou woke up, as if out of a muse, and bade them lay hands upon Alan. They hung back indeed, having little taste for the employment, but Hoseason was like a fiend, crying that Alan was alone, that he had a great sum about him, that he had been the means of losing the brig and drowning all their comrades, and that here were both revenge and wealth upon a single cast. It was seven against one. In that part of the shore there was no rock that Alan could set his back to, and the sailors )>cgan to spread out and come behind him. “And then," said Alan, "the little man with the red head—I have nae mind of the name he is called.” “Riach,” said 1. “Aye,” said Alan, "Riach! Well, it was him that took up the clubs for me, asked the men if they werenae feared of a judgment, and says he, ‘Do.l, I’ll put my back to the hielandman’s myseT. That’s none such an entirely bad little man, yon little man with the red head,” said Alan. “He has some spunks of decency." “Well,” said I, “he was kind to me in his way.” “And ip he was to Alan," said he; “and by my troth, 1 found his way a very good one! But ye see, David, the loss of the ship and the cries of thece poor lads sat very ill upon the man, and I’m thinking that would be the cause of it." “Well, I would think so,” said I, “for he was as keen as anv of the rest at the beginning. But how did Hoseascn t.’.Re itr “It sticks in my mind that he would 1 take it very ill," says Alan. “But the i little man cried to me to run, and indeed ’ I thought it wn* a good observe, and ran. The Inst that I saw they were all in a knot ujion the bench, like folk that were not agreeing very well together.” “What do you mean by that?" said l. “Well, the fists were going," said Alan; “and I saw one man go down like a pair of breeks. But 1 thought it would lie nae better to wait. Ye see, there’s a strip of Campbells in that end of Mull, j which is no good company for a gentle man like me If it hadnae been for that | I would have waited and looked for ye j myseT, let alone given a hand to the ; little man.” It was droll how Alan dwelt on Mr. Riach’s stature, for, to say j the truth, the one was not much smaller than the other. “So,” says he, continu ing, "I set my best foot forward, and whenever 1 met in with any one I cried out there was a wreck ashore. Man, they didnae stop to fash with me! You should have seen them linking for the beach! And when they got there they found they had had the pleasure of a run, which is aye good for a Campbell. I’m thinking it was a judgment on the clan that the brig went down in the lump and didnae break. But it was a very unlucky thing for yon, that same, for if any wreck had come ashore they would have hunted high and low and would soon have found ye.” [to be continued.] A Million Friends. A friend in n““d is a friend indeed, and nr less than one million people have found just such a friend ’ v King’s New Discovery for Consumption, Coughs, and Colds.—If you have never used this “Great Cough Medicine, one trial will convince 'you that it has "wonderful cur ative powers in all diseases «.i Throat, Chest and Lungs. Each bottle is guaranteed to do all that is claimed or money will be refunded. Trial bottles free at Willcox & Co’s Drug "Store. Large bottles 50c. and $1.00. A Reward of $500. Will be paid for any case of Rheumatim which cannot be cured by Dr. Drummond’s Light ning Remedy. This offer is made in good faith by the pro prietors, and there is no reason able excuse for any one to suf fer longer. Any ordinary case will be cured with one bottle. In addition to • the reward for difficult cases, the money is al ways refunded where the reme dy fails to cure. The price of a bottle is $5—and that is the cost of a cure. Drummond Medicine Co., 48-50 Maiden Lane, New York Agents wanted. —— •%*- —• • - - - ... “Twelve pence one shilling,” said the schoolmaster. “Now, go on, sir, ‘twenty shillings make one’—what ?” “They make om mighty glad these times,” replied the boy, and the teacher, w.iio hadn’t got his last month’s salary, con eluded the boy was right.—Lou don Tit-Bits. Bucklen s Arnica Salve. The Best Salve in the world for Cuts, Bruises, Sores. Ulcers, Salt Rheum, Fever Sores, Tetter, Chapped Hands, Chilblains, Corns, and all Skin Eruptions, and positively cun s Piles, or no pay required. It is guaranteed to give perfect satisfaction, or money refunded. Price 25 cents per box. For sale at Willcox & Co’s drugstore. Desirable Lot For Sale. WE offrr f r sale tbt‘ lot of tbe late Mrs. A. A. Baker in tbe Town of Dar lington. PAUL WHIPPLE, J. GREGG McCALL, J. E. NETTLES, Executors. Ap 21—tf Chauncey Depew met his old college professor of languages the other day, and wishing to say something pleasant remark ed : “I understand, professor, that | you have mastered all the known tongues.” “No, you are mistaken. I haven’t mastered two—my wife’s and her mother’s.”—De- troit Tree Press. • • •- Deserving Praise. We desire to say to our citi zens, that for years we have been selling Dr. King’s New Discovery for Consumption, Dr. King’s New Life Pills, Bucklen’s Arnica Salve and Electric Bit ters; and have never handlel remedies that sell as well, or that have given such universal satisfaction. We do not hesi tate to guarantee them every time, and we stand ready to re j fund the purchase price, if sat isfactory results do not follow their use. These remedies have won their great popularity pure ly on their merits. Sold by Willcox & Co. Druggists. “Hullo, Morley. How are you ? Haven’t seen you since you turned farmer.” “No ?” “Raiseanythingon your farm last year ?” “Yes. A beard.”—Harper's Bazar. Always Get the Best. Persons who suffer from Rheu matism want immediate relief. It is not enough that the pain should be eased, and the appe tite be increased. Anything short of a cure is only prolong ing torture. The poisonous acid in the blood, which is the direct cause of Rheumatism is immed iately and effectually expelled by Dr. Drummond’s Lightning Remedy. Where it fails to per form a cure, the price is refund ed. If the druggist cannot fur nish it the remedy will be sent prepaid to any address on re ceipt of price, five dollars. Drum mond Medicine Co., 49-50 Maid en Lane, New York. Agents wanted. “Mayer,” said the principal on the 29th day of the month to one of his clerks, “my memo ry is so treacherous I forget everything. Just remind me on the 1st to give you notice to quit.”—Semana Comica Stanley as an explorer, Edi son as an inventor, Miss Flora A. Jones as the discoverer of the Famous Blush of Roses, for the complexion ; are names that will be handed down as bene factors of the race, to all record ed time. Dr. J. A. Boyd comes in for his share (of the profits) as he always keeps a big sup ply on hand, and sells it for 75 cents per bottle. He—Would you love me more, dearest, if I were rich ? She—I think not. It would not be necessary. In that case I could marry you without lov ing you at all.—Indianapolis Journal. When Baby was sick, we gave her Castoria. When she was a Child, she cried for Castori*. When she Ijocame Miss, she olung to CastorUt. When aho had Children, she gave them Castorl*. TAX NOTICE. FSl HE Tax Returns of the Town of M. Darlington, 8. C., are now on file with the Cl *rk and will remain open for inepeetion until March, 2D, ISSJi. All persons having complaints against the value of as sessments assigned by the board of assessors must file the r protests with the Clerk before the day mentioned. By Order of the Mayor, J. W. EVANS, Clerk. March 9—tf. Final Not ce. N OTICE is hereby given that I will file my final return in the office of the Probate Judge for Dar lington county on Mi.rchiK) 18118 as Administration of the Estate of O. H Gilbert and apply for Letters Dismis- sory. HARRIETTE GILBERT. Feb. 28—4t. eTATCMEN: OF ?HE IIUTUAL LFE IHSURAHCE co. PAr:v cr n :w von;t riCHAfO A. CcCURUY, President. Ter tbo yc.-.r c.-.-ing Do ember Cl, 1892 Assets - $173,0'4,136 Ci 'Kerr* for rollc!** (Anu rl* an Table 4 IVr 4« -rellsueoui Li-bit*.let . . . . blw9,1 l,Cf!7 CO < 7 lu v lO!»,t!S3 1)4 I::com9 .... ci .urcAt, /.c. - - i Disbursements IVlrr-IIoMeri - - $ 14« r Lxyem»e» and Taxes • 7.419.011 ()$ fc-it^soo.l i:! 54 ic Assets r.ro Invested as follows: lited SfntcH lion !■ rnd oilier Seenriii. < - • - (,•5,820,434 83 >a: h «.n Bond uni Horten *r, flrxt !l« n - - - - ‘in* o;i ^ocki and Euut'.a A IMa'r - ..nH I •! Uarhi and Trust Cent* |>1nl:** .mm. rerued Interest, D* Terre'I V -a- laiuuii, Ac, ■ . • fO.a48.ft2 51 1 i.894.5t;: M I*,039,384 £J i ,800,072 55 f,075.474 ?7 t.;5,t«4,15d fll Insurance ar.J Annuities ascnnra AsNuiuod an.l I’.>• _ •'ittrmw» 1 n ..: tmi! ie* in Kurco - Cft*4,ftoo,r>fto oo »,7ho.«s:| Oi) £52,OM 01 C.82,73; 'J. f TO.820 O ? ,004.13 » 71 8.137.20(1 7 i 15,577,0m Vi 47.737.7«5 00 U,295,92 5 00 Norm In accordance w ‘!i tki inUBlta cf Baraf'- r.t:i»naojBC dm Rownbcr, u hart th’ kjwmiii of w nairuicaactvallT issuei and pa i fori'. Ui; accounts oi a yjar 1392. to Otj Ifcadri M 11 o • Co.hr*. tko amtwat of s’lranoo ,.i force as ab<,T0 Stat'd jnc’ id?* tki amoiat of sucii . intary 1 ro.t witk bit a iTgit -tf:aso uuaTCiiaWo in j.Lg tha Dr ilk or acco ;at* i# . like In A nnuItiM - • .ict o.iko in uteu. $ to X'lI3 . J* Holder* ... ureas© In necolplj - ii-rrn ©InSurplui rrcaso in Awels ..emme in laRuraneo Auiuned and lleuetTfd • ..ere-ue iu iusuranca in Par o I have cnrcfu’ly examine! foregoing State- .nc.it und Sod the *am; to he c rre< t A. N, Wapbmhol'sb, Auditor From the Surplus a dividend will be apportioned m usual ROBERT A. GRANNtSS, ViCf-Pnc$»oeNT V/alter R. CiLt.ETra - General Mmnger Frederic Cromwell ... Treasurer L..ickv WcCuMTOCiC lld. «.i. v. - Actuary F. H. HYATT, General Agent For South Carolina, Columbia, S. C. GIBSON & WOODS. Agents for Darlington, Florence, Sum ter, Clarendon, Williamsburg, Georgetown, Horn, Marion and Marlboro Counties, Darlington, S. C. CHARLESTON, SUMTER AND ^ NORTHERN RAILROAD CHARLES E. KIMBALL Receiver. In Effect Jan. 16, 1893 W. B. McGIRl.U. D. S., Offers his professio tui »ei vices to thi people of Darlington and vicinity Office over the store of Edwards, Nor ment A Co. Jan 19.’90-1 v tTARTSVILLERAI LROAD. In effect Jan. 2, 1893. DAILY MIXED TRAIN Leave Hartsville 5.00 a m Jovauu 5.20 a m Floyd’s 5.35 a m Darlington 5.50 a in Palmetto — 6.02 a m Arrive Florence 6.15 a m Leave Florence 9.00 p m Palmetto 9.15 p m Darlington 9.30 p g Floyd's 9.45 p m Jovann - 10.05 p in Amive Hartsville 10.25 p m #, r. Geo, Supl. NORTH. SOUTH. 21 i 2 22 A.M. AM. A.M. P.M. • ... 0.50 Charleston 10.30 8.15 I’regnaH’s 9.05 6 45 8.30 Sumter 12.50 1 20 8.48 1.00 Lamar 11.31 11.39 9.22 1.20 Syracuse 11.11 11.03 10.40 1.41 Darlington 10.40 10.29 11.15 2 05 Mont Clare 10 26 9 53 11.40 2.21 Robin’sNeck 10.10 8.18 12.10 2.41 Mandeville 9.50 117.53 12.40 3 01 Bennettsville 9.30 H7.23 3.50 Gibson 8.40 4.30 Hamlet 7.50 P.M. P.M P.M. A.M Close connection is made at Hamlet for ail points reached by or via the Seaboard Air Line System ; at Ben- nettsville for all points via C. F. & Y. V R R. No. 2 does not take passengers south of Sumter. Nos. 21 and 22 do not run north of Bennettsville, J. H. AVEKILL, General Manager. 1 & D. and C. A S. RAILROADS. In effect Jan. 2, 1893. Leave Wadesboro Bennett's ... 2.01pm McFarland Cheraw — Cash's Society Hill Dove’s Floyd's Darlington Palmetto Arrive Florence Leave Florence Palmetto Darlington .. 7.30 a in Floyd’s ... 7.55 a m Dove's Society Hill Cash’s Cheraw McFarland Morven’s .. 12.05 p m Bennett’s Arrive Wadesboro .... 12.45 p m Local Freight Train. Leave Florence Arrive Darlington ... 9.45 a m Leave Darlington 5.00 p m Arrive Florence A. F. RAVEN EL, President. m.1 ORTH EASTERN RAILROAD. i.1 In effect Jan. 2 1893. SOUTH BOUND. No. 15 Leave Florence Kingstree Lanes ... 7.55 a in Arrive Charleston Ho. 27. Leave Florence Kingstree Lanes Arrive Charleston No. 23. Leave Florence Kingstree Lanes .... 12.32 a m Arrive Charleston No. 53. Leave Lanes Arrive Charleston Train on C. A 1). R. R. connects at Florence with No. 15 Train. NORTH BOUND. No. 78. Leave Charleston Lanes Kingstree Arrive Florence No. 06 Leave Charleston Lanes Kingstree .. . 7.55 a m Arrive Florence No. 14. Leave Charleston Lanes Kingstree Arrive Florence No. 52. Leave Charleston Arrive Lanes No. 62 runs through to Columbia via Central R. R. of 8. C. No. 78 runs solid to Wilming ton, N. C.j making close connection with W. & W. R. R. for ail points North. Trains Nos. 14 and 06 run via Wilson an Fayetteville—Short Line—and make close connection for all points North. J. F. DIVINE. Gen. Supt. i\ ILMINGTON, COLUMBIA l AUGUSTA RALROAD. In effect January 2 1893. SOUTH BOUND. No. 23. Leave Wilmington 6.25 p m Marion 9.41 p m Arrive Florence 10.25 p in No. 50. Leave Florence 3.20 a m Sumter 4.35 a m Arrive Columbia 6.15 a m No. 62. Leave Sumter 9.43 a m Arrive Columbia 10.55 a m No. 58. Leave Florence 7.57 a m Sumter 9 20 a iu Arrive Columbia No. 52 runs through from Charles ton via Central Railroad; leaving Lanes 8.32 a m, Manning 9 09 a m. NORTH BOUND. No. 51. Leave Columbia 10.45 p m Sumter 12.05 a nr Arrive Florence 1.30 a m No. 78. Leave Florence 5.10 a m Marion 5.53 a m Arrive Wilmington 9.10 a m No. 59. Leave Columbia Sumter 7.80 p m Arrive Florence 8.50 p m No. 53. Leave Columbia 6.10 p m Arrive Sumter 7. 25p m No. 53 runs through to Charleston via central Railroad, arriving Man ning 8.00 p m. Lanes 8.40 p m, charleston 10.30 a m. Trains on Manchester and Augusta B. R-, leave Sumter daily except Sun day, 10-50 a. m., arrive Rimini 11:59 a. m. Returning leave Rimini 12:30 p m.. arrive Sumter 1:40 p. m. Trains on Hartsville R. R. leave Harts,ille 5:00 a, in., arriving Floyds 5:85 a. m. Returning leave Floyds 9:45 p. in., arriving Hartsvill 10:5 p. in. Daily except Sunday. Trains on Wilmington, Chadbouru and Conway Railroad leave Chad- bourn 10:30 a. m., arrive at Conway 1:00 p. in,, returning leave Conway at 2:30 p. m., arrive Chadbourn 5:20 p. m Leave Chadbourn 7:15 a. m. and 5:50 p. m., arrive Hub at 8:00 a. m. and 6:25 p. m. Returning leave Hub 9:00 a. m. and 6:45 p. m., arrive at ( had- boum 9:45 a- m. ai d 7:30 p m. Daily except Sunday. JOHN F. DIVINE, Gen’l Sup t. Attenion Mechanics! All persons in need of babbitt metal can purchase it cheap at TUB DA* UHSTOH N*w» offloe.