The Darlington news. (Darlington, S.C.) 1875-1909, March 16, 1893, Image 3
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.]
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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.