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"Be Just and Fear not-Let all the Ends thon Aims't at, he thy Country's, thy God's and Truth's " SUMTER, S. C WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 24, 1888. THE T??E SOUTHRON, Bstabliebcd don?, 1 8*6 Sew Series?toi. Till. Ko. 12. lV?i)?ttars Ma??a--.n> advance. ^*^va.1>"y x* t 13k xi xts - first insertion?00 joent ?eer?on?,......^?....... -50 foc,three wocttis, at longer will ^i?W8fX ?le?. ? which suheerve prrvste lic<??rjpBd for asa?ve*1i9ea?nt8. sad tribales of.res?ect w31\be A&ea& l-?usa LEB in iffl, ?Hf?c?^first-class anus Auffand Vn.fi r>\^ |?Llsf Varnis?ies, PUTTY, &a ST&FFS. *s fressnpf ?ons earefarlj ggf*, a?d bt??ers answered le wR! find my stock of ete> warranted geua mI see for yafaree?vea? ?OF? COD LIVER OIL AND (te tf Lis ai So? 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DOORS, SASH & BLINDS, LATHS, LIME; C?MENT; PLASTER, AND HAIR. te?M^mcaafis??i Glass, PAINTS, OILS AND VARNISHES. . CARTER WHITE LEAD. * The Best io the Market. Special Attention Given to Orders by Mail. C. 0. BROWN & BRO., Opposite Post Offr-e, COLUMBIA, S. C. Oct 5-o G. W. ?ICK, D. D. S. Office over Bogin's New Store, i3trancs on main STIiKBT, SC1ITER, S. C. Office Hours ?9 to 1:20 ; 2:30 to 5. Sent 8 D. B. ANDERSON, Attorney at Law. SUM TER, S. C. Will practice in adjoining counties. Collecting made a specialty. SWIFTS SPECIFIC Is entirely a vegetable preparation containing no Mercury, Potash, Arsenic, or o:iicr poisonous substance*. SWIFT'S SPECIFIC Has cured hundreds ofcases of Epithelioma or Cancer of the Skin.thousr.ncls of cases of Eczema, Blood Hnn:ors a-.d Skin Diseases, and hun dreds of thousands of cases of Scrofula, Blood, Poison, and Ekxxl Taint. SWIFTS SPECIFIC Ha*rcKev?tthcnsands cf ca;cs cf ?IercuriaI Poisonirr;, JIhcuraatfcra, u?J Stiffness of the Joints. What Physicians sat of thi: Swift Specific Wc append the statement cf a few: **I have used S. S. S. on patients convalescing from fever zsid from measles with the lxst results J. N. Chenet, M. D. EttavlUc, Ga. B-jrxEX, Ga.?V.'iiuc White waft afflicted v.i'.h sC'Cfula seven years. I prescribed S. S. S., and to-day he Is a fat an : robust boy. ' C. W. Parkek, 5f. D. Richxokd, Va., 1353.^1 have taken* three bottles cf Swif?^.-S:KX?fic, for secondary blood poison. It acis.*surh better than potash or anv other remedy I have ever n*?ed. J3.F. WufM2iJ>,M.D. Book on Contagions T?ood Po?3on raailcd free, All 'J.-o'?-'istssen S. S. S. Trra Swift Specific Co., Bwtcr 3, Atlanta, Ga. Kew York, 756 Bwafcwjp. ,_~? The Brand of Blood. The Miserable Ending of a Horrible Series of Grimes and Tragedies ' [The following Interesting sketch con nected with the history of Anderson county was published in the Greenville News last Sunday. It is in the main correct, but the Vandiver mentioned was named Harvin, instead of Harvey, who was also pardoned by the Governor, and did net die iu jail, though death did come to him the day before that on which he hud been sentenced to be. banged. The trial was had at the May "Term. 1872, before Judge Orr. William M. Davenport,- David K. Breazeale and Harvin Vaodiver were the parties indicted by the Grand Jury, but the name of still another was in cluded in the bill. The pardon of Vandiver was first secured, and then upon a showing made on his affidavit. Governor Scott (oot Moses) pardoned Davenport on the 6th of November, 1872. With these few corrections stated, we append the sketch as publish* ed by the News of the ? 14tb inst.? Anderson Journal.] In a miserable wooden shanty off a short way from Buncombe street, near where it is joined by Rutherford, a wretched m au died yesteruay. Who was he ? To'those who were accustomed to see his gaunt form, and hollow, sunken eyes, and sallow cheeks, matted with tangled beard, incarnation of utter misery, he was simply *old may Daven port/ or more ofte? 'Morphine Daven ; port,' an outcast and a. beggar. To j others, who knew his life's history, he ] was an embodiment, in short, who had brought himself' from a position of worldly wealth and respectability ; had taken on the slavery of a debasing habit; had for SI thy money's hire killed a fellow man in cold blood ; had escaped the just vengeance of the law and come forth from a felon's cell to sink deeper and deeper in misery until death came to end the cursed drama of 'his life. Almost everybody knew Wm: Daven-'' port, but few ever thought his life's history concealed the story of a dramatic tragedy. He came to Greenville about twelve or thirteen years ago. He then bore some pretensions to respectability, but the morphine habit was bis curse, and it gradually brought him downs until he earned a scant living by cut ting wood and doing "chores, and managed in that way and by begging to keep himself supplied with the drug which was to him the life and the ?ll. His method of. using the opiate was by iojection, and at Lis death scarcely a spot remained on his body where the delicate point of the morphine syringe had noVpenetrated. He gave way un der the long ravages of the habit last wetk, and. gradually became weaker until he died at 4 o'clock yesterday morning. He had been supplied with food and medicines by charity tn> his last sickness, and bis death was far less full of misery thau bis life had been. The story of the crime that stained his hands id a story of 'bushwhackiug time in the years immediately following the war. ?n June, 1865, the year of the surrender, John Wilsou Meeks was mordered at Breazeale's mill in Ander son county, about midway between Anderson Court House and Belton. Meeks bad volunteered at the outbreak of the war and fought through it until the surrender, when he took up the long tramp for his home and the wife and children he had left there He had married a daughter of Harvey Vandiver, a Biptist preacher, who lived at Brea zeale's mill, and they had lived happily together uotil the war -and separation came. When he returned he found all changed. His wife had gone to live ? with her father at the mill, and there were rumors that she lived on terms of too much intimacy with Dave Breazeale, h ho owned the mill. The husbaud's return was followed by a quarrel with his father in- law, and .. he was forbidden to enter th? house where his wife was. One interview he secured with her. He told her then that he was trying to get a house that he could carry her and the children to, aud that he would meet her at the well 'in the yard about eight o'clock that night to tell her of the arrangements he had'made* He then went av?ay, and during the day that followed secured a home where he expected- to carry his wife and children-. A dark plot was fcfiriing meanwhile. The unfaithful wife told her father and Breazeale of the appointment her hus band had made. The riight came, and with it the hour appointed for the ren dezvous at the weil. Meeks approached the spot where he imagined he would find his wife waiting for bim, and wish ing, maybe, for the time when he should not be forced to meet h^r thus clandes tinely. j But the wife did net keep the ap j pointaient. She remained in the house j and in her stead three men sought the well and in the darkness lay in wait for Meeks. As he approached, Davenport, who was one of the. three aud was wait- j ' ing armed with an army gun, fchot him j in the breast. The wound was not fa- j tal. and the would-be murderer joined with his victim in a scuffle, which was i j terminated by one of the other men J who seized the gun and, reversing it. I crushed in the skull of the victim with ; its stock. The third man stood looking I on, but took no active part iu the strug I g le. The only other eye witness was j a uejjro named Bill Bruck who had been j impressed to help in the bloody work, j but that the deed was koown to others ' was shown when a wild shriek followed j the discharge of the gun. issuing from the interior of the house. It was the ! cry of the wife a* the death knell of the : husband she had betrayed, j The murder wa9 accomplished ; what should be done with the body was the ; question. The three accomplices, aided j by the negro, hurriedly carried the body I off into the woods four or five hundred j yards Tools hastily picked up were plied with feverish impatience, and a : hole, shallow and without semblance of ; a grave, was excavated in the depth of ? the wood. The corpse was thrown in and the dirt piled over it, the dead man's hat having been first placed over his face. One murderer stood on the grave as his fellow ghouls threw on the j dirt and packed it down. Sil or seven years passed, in all of which time the sudden disappearance of John Wilson Meeks was put down as one of the unsolved mysteries of the troublous and disordered times just fol lowing the war. There was much bushwhacking then, and it was supposed that he was another victim, und no in vestigation was made. Very soon after ^leeks' disappearance, young Beazeale left the country, it was supposed to go to Texas. Davenport, who was a large farmer io the neighborhood, and who was comparatively a rich man, having before the war owned a number of ?laves, lived quietly as usual on his farm enjoying the respect of his neigh bors, and making a good citizen as things went. The disappearance of Meek s 'had long since ceased to be in teresting gossip, and as suspicion had never hunted out the real murderers, it looked as if vengeance had passed them in . its terrible sway over the ranks of the guilty. The dream of peace and safety was rudely broken. One day, about seven years after the murder, a message came from Bill Brock, the negro who had been the one disinterested witness of the killing, to a brother of the murder ed man. The negro was visited, and revealed the whole story of the murder, detail by detail, declaring that it had haunted his mind until he cculd get no rest. He told of the shooting at the well, and of the burial of tbe body in the blackness and ghostly silence of the forest describing the exact location of the grave and telling tbe position of the body. Warrants were quickly sworn out for Vandiver,, tbe preacher, and Davenport, the ones still in tbe country implicated in the negro's story. Vandi ver got wind of .the discovery and fled, but was captured somewhere near the Georgia line. Davenport was tbe first captured,, and when the officers ap proached the house be 6et a violent bull dog on them, which nearly killed one of tbe men. The pair were finally lodged in jail at Anderson. The trial came on before Judge Orr. The prin cipal witness was the negro Brock, who had turned State's evidence and escaped potiUhmect thereby. The trial resulted in the conviction of both Davenport and Vandiver, and they were sentenced to be haoged. In neither case was the sentence executed The aged ex preacher died in jail before the day for the execution, and the easy justice of Governor Moses released Davenport by an executive pardon, bought, it is said, at the expense of all his possessions. Davenport went back to bis home near BeltonVand lived there for a number of years, until be came here. He had ac quired the morphine habit, it was said, before his imprisonment aod trial, and at the jail, when visitors came in, he would beg for money to buy the drug. After his release, the deadly opiate drew him more and more into its slavery and the soul of .tbe murderer became tbe soul of the moraily depraved opiate victim, dead and callous to every moral sense. His property drifted away, health aod character were lost, aud misery accumulated on him. This does uotBnish the tale of hor rors. One day after the murder of Meeks h'rs little daughter said in the presence of her grandfather, the elder Vandiver: *I would have a father now if it haoVt been for grandpa/ The guilty man heard with dismay the ac cusation from the lips of the child. The next day the child was dead, and it was whispered and believed that she was poisoned by ber grand father because she knew of the murder that b-d been done. The chronicle of blood was written again, when, oo the arrest of Harvey Vaodiver, his wife, driven to^. despera tion by her knowledge of the duuble murder cf her son-in-law and grand child, committed suicide by tying a bank of yarn about her neck, attaching tbe other end to the bed post, aud roll ing off on the floor. The strange fatality attending tbe actors in the tragedy was exampled again when after Wm Davenport bad moved to Greenville, one of bis daugh ters, at the time an operative in tbe Campcrdown mills, fell from one of the buildiogs on tbe brink of the bluff to the rocks below and was killed. The death of the chief actor yesterday does not end the list, the third man, at whose instance, it is said, Meeks was killed, having fled to the West. It is reported that be is living and is the sheriff of a county in Texas, but there is uo verifi cation* of the statement. James Meeks, tbe janitor of Furman University', is a brother of John W. Meeks who was killed, and the story of tbe affair given above is substantially as he told it to a News reporter yesterday. Many of the statements are verified by men who remember the sensational trial of this case at Anderson. The family of the uufortuuate Davenport consists of his wife, three daughters aod a son, who is in Texas. Two of his daughters are in Atlanta and one is here, a victim [ like her wretched fa?if?r to the morphine curse, aod'a" beggar on the streets. P. T. Bamum's Grand-daugh I ter. Eastover, Oct. 19: Tcree years ago Mr. 11. I. Clark, of Connecticut, bought a farm three miles from this j place and settled oo it.- Mr. Clark j came South for his health, Which, in a I gratifying measure, be has found Mr Clark's wife is a grand-daughter of; Phioeas T. Barnim?, the world famed showman, of Bridgeport. Lately Mr ! Barnum has presented to Mrs Clark the \ snug little sum of ?1.000.000. and ?be, I like the good sensible woman that sho I is, has invested a pretty little hlice of it | in South Carolina real estate. The j Clarks have bought 'Good Mill' planta tion, a tract of 7,000 acres, paying ; 830.000 for it. and will mtike it a j modern, model farm. A toadMias beeu found in England which is puzzling tbe scientists. Ile j i was discovered some scores of yards j I under the earth's surface, imbedded in ! clay His limbs were perfectly limp, | and he was etone blind The local sa- ;' . vanfs could not guess its age accurately, | ; but reckoned it somewhere between I : 20,000 and 30,000 years. This toad ! was tired of living in the days before Adam got tired of living alone in Eden, j I and it is just possible he heard tbe raiu ; coujc uuwu Juring the flood. By FEAffK HOWABD HOWE and LAS CELLES OHESTEE MAXWELL.! L Everybody knows Kitty Gyde. That is. all the fellows do. Her studio is on the top lioor of the Wales, where she does not mind your smoking1 an occasional cigarette if you are well acquainted Kitty paints a very nice picture. Not great, yon know, but just a pretty piece of 'genre work that hangs well in a draw ing room, and is not a check; to frivolous conversation. There isn't a better little woman in Gotham than Kitty herself. We all call her Kitty?tho fellows do. She writes occasionally for the press about art, music and the higher educa tion for women. So much for Kitty. And myself? Well, hoping, liko Paul Pry, I don't intrude, this is I. A man about town, with a weakness for Bohemian life?a weakness that may surprise you when I tell yon that I'm a fellow of fashion, with somo of tho best cards of Gotham in my mirror. But I like cheerfnl company, and tho jolly quilldrivers furnish it, without car ing to follow me out of Bohemia into my own world. So I manage to lot my as sociations there lio perdue, as it were. In truth, the beggars are not pushing. They have a dignity of their own. If they are at times^a bit familiar they don't mean to compromise one by it. For instance, if I escort Mrs. Potiphar Phipps to hor car riage after the opera, Bob Jones, the dramatic man of The Orb, may favor me with a furtire-wink from under his tile? tho ancient, tb? weatherworn.?but he never presumes, to bow. The boys like me, or appear to. Arid so it has gradually come about that a good many of them mako me tho deposi tary of their hopes and cares. When Jack Mills scores a failure with his play he comes to mo?and curses the critics. And when Fred Raeburno has another story refused it Is iuta my tender bosom that he pours bis grief. Somo say that this foible of the scribes is owing to the fact that I keep a brand of partictdarly fine cigars and a lot of good old brandy in my rooms: but then some people would say anything. One day I Iiad come up town rather early, and was just stepping into our ele vator, when I felt a great thwack on. ray back, and a hearty voice exclaimed. "Hello! How's his nibs?" I turned around and recognized Fred Raeburno. Now, I hate to be hit in tho back and called "his nibs." It hurts both my spinal cord, and mv amour propre. So with somo asperity 1 informed Fred that my health was as good as could be expected under present cirenxa stances. But Fred has the skin of a rhinoceros. "Going up to see Kitty Clyde?" he con tinued, obiivjous of my iron;,'. "Samo here." And he beamed at the elevator boy. "She is a dear littlo woman. Eh! old man?" . *'J5amc here." I don't fancy talcing the elevator boy into my confidence as a regular thing, so although I quite agreed with Fred about .Miss Clyde's attractiveness I merely mut tered something about "most estimable, I am sure." You cannot bo too careful in a house with ladies?the elevator boy Is their home journal. But notwithstand ing my hints, both of manner and speech, Fred kept on imperturbably asking me all sort3 of personal questions and comment ing facetiously on my privato affairs until the elevator stopped at the door of Miss Clvde's apartment. \Yo found it open, but Kitty was not in sight. The studio was a place with which wc wergo both familiar; a long room, di vided across the middle by a Japanese screen about four feet high. At tho end next tho door was a carved oak mantel piece, having beneath it ir deep fireplace in which burned a bright, soft coal fire. About the walls hung art studies?bits of china, curios, odd pieces of armor and bric-a-brac. Indeed it wa3 a very pretty room, giving proof of Kitty's good taste, and that among other things sho knew what a Japaneso auction meant. Finding no cue in, Raebume suggested that we'd best wait for ?itty. So wo sat down and lit cigarettes. Still smarting under Fred's recent salutation, and being in an ugly frame of mind anyway, I began the conversation with: "Well, and how. does the coming novel ist get on?" "Novelist bo d-d," quoth Fred, sud denly blazing into a Clio fury. "Mark my words, old man. they'll be sorry one of these days for tho way thcy'vo treated me. It hasn't mattered to me much until this year. But now t lungs arc different. Now I'm going to remember all those that give mo a stono when I ask for Jbrcad. 1'vo got thcr.i on tho list. When ? am at the top of the ladder cf farao and the pub lishers come to me. begging for stories, then it will bo my turn. Tho public can not go on imbibing milk aud water for ever. They will grow up some day, end then they'll howl for meat. Then they must come to me. It is a long light, old man. but I'm bound to win in the end. They can't keep me down forever. See this parcel?" Producing one from Iiis over coat pocket, where I had observed it bulg ing. "This is ji real story?no fiimnam. There's real pathos, real comedy, real tragedy here," went 011 tho enthusiastic author, violently pounding on the arm of my chair his manuscript. "My characters do not merely breathe and talk; they live and suffer. They are chastened in the fires of adversity, they lead the real com monplace life of this humdrum world, and yet I have thrown around thoni such a glamour of romance" "Have you tried it on the dog?" 1 queried, cutting in as Raeburno stopped for breath. JFr?d checked himself smddenly in mid flicht and fell to eart h. Ho looked at mo for a moment, while a comical'gtfiv over spread1 his rathci good looking face. "I've tried it on all the dogs lean thi?? of." he admitted, looking ro?fnUy at C?e parcel "Never mind, they'll have lo'uc cept something one of these days." "Why the mischief don't you give it ?p j for the present". I'VedV" said 1 "Yon haro a little'niotiey; why not lie'on your oars, for a while and waif for- th? world to catch up wrflr you " "Well. Ill tell yon." paid Fred, e.s ' sinning his confidential manner. "But j mind, it's a secret 1 spent la*t summer ' at the Isleof Wight, on the hong Island j coast There-1 met the loveliest girl"? i Fred here threw his eyes .-..nd a" kiss to'tho ; ceiling "Sho. was stopping with somo ; people?the Hut ledges?who had a cot- j tage there Well, Laura?her name is j Laura?Laura Windom is an orphan. 1 j don't know that that>Jias any thin? to do with the story, but -ien sho is. well, I met her, and t hen I met her once or twice more, and then it seems to me some way as if 1 didn't meet anybody but lier. Wo used to play lawn tennis and bathe aud drive together, and the result was that I got well?yon know" "Never mind that; skip it," said L "You proposed and were rejected, 1 sup pose?" "No; accepted." said Fred, growing red under the influence of some tender remin iscence. "And yet people scoff at miracles," I murmured viciously. "But when I came to talk to Mrs. Rnt ledge," continued Fred, noticing" my gibe, "I got it hot. and no mistake. She asked me whether it was acting like a gentle man to engage a young girl's affections just because ? knew she had a largo fort une. By Jove, it just knocked me out. You know I have about three thousand a vcar. I saw this girl living with the Kutlodges; I knew she was an orphan, and I thought, if i thought about it at alL that in marrying her I was doing a bit of the Cophctua business. I am blessed if the old woman did not row mo fora fortune hunter. She said: 'Three - thousand a year is nothing. I could not live on it myself.' (That's a fact.) Then she went on to denounce fortune hunters in general and my impudence in particti- , lar. She told me, among other things in tho course of her harangue, that I couldn't earn my salt. She's wrong there, though, old fellow," laughed Fr?d. "1 think I could do that. I don't use a great deal "Of course I was very much cut up about the whole thing," he went on. "Laura stuck to me like a brick, though (Fred has a nack of mixing his meta ?hors), and said she didn't care what Mrs. tutledgo said. She's deuccdly fond oi me, you know"?-complacently caressing his mustache. "But I was not going to have that old cat saying that I had mar ried Miss Windoin for her money and couldn't support her. Would you?" "Not if I could help myself," I admitted. "But I don't see quite how she could be muzzled." Fred looked at me for a mo ment dubiously and went on: "One day it occurred to Laura?I saw her sometimes" "Oh! You saw her sometimes?" I put in. "Yes, of course. There was a lane back of tbo Cedarhurst track that sho liked to drive through. I used to meet hero there. As I was saying when you in terrupted me," with, a severe glance in my direction, "it occurred to Laura that I might try and make so mo money just to show that I was good for something. Sho, of course, never doubted my ability, but she wanted mo to convince other people of it. Funny I had not thought of it my self, was it not?" queried Fred pensively. There seemed to me to bo no reply to this. So I merely bowed * my head in as sent. " "Yes, exactly," continued Eaeburne with a reproachful look on his face, as if he had rather hoped to be contradicted. "So then wo talked over all the different sorts of business, Laura and I, and Laura concluded?she is very clever, yoii must know?that as it took eight or ten years to get a footing in any other business, ; and as wo could not afford to wait that ' long. I must start out aud be an author in earnest. That, she said, was tho only trade where fame and fortuno were ohV tained at oucc. You know 1 havo dabbled in verse mere or less. I havo written some really lovely stanzas about Laura, but of course she would not allow' them to bo published. So all this fall ? h?ve been trying all I knew to get something of mine accepted. And that's the reason T vo got to have something accepted," con cluded Fred emphatically, adding anx iously, "Do you think 1 have a chance?" Now, what should one say to a fellow' like that? - v "Fred." said I, after considering a, mo ment, "you have my best wishes, old fel low. But why don't you and tho girl marry uow and then go on to fame and*oor tuno hand in hand? It sometimes takes.a year ?r two for a writer in Gotham to mako his mark." Sarcasm is simply thrown away on Fred. "That is just what Laura says," ho re joined cheerfully, "so wo havo decided that wlienever my first story is accepted we will get married at once." "That is a very sonsiblo d?termina-, tion!" cried L Success to 'Tho Carnival of Crime!' " I soized tho package out of Fred's hand and waved it enthusiastically around my head, offering up a silent prayer tho" while that some editor might, in a mo ment of temporary mental eclipse, bo in duced to accept it. Just at this moment I saw ??acburne suddenly rise from his chair and staro open mouthed at tbo screen behind mc with eyes that stuck out like hat pegs. I turned in my chair and saw a sight that brought mo" to my feet instanter; Over iL "YT!:-:i t>.:?-I ?Kgan. T.jcre I nyr V- t!:e Morale upprjr?t ion rose another head that 1 knew well.. It was Kitty, wearing her most exasperating ex pression of countenance When 1 am with tho utmost fairness of reasoning and the utmost mildness of expression explain ing to Kitty how such a man of our ac quaintance is greatly overrated, or how such another is a pretentious a^s. and Kitty looks up at me from her painting,^ with a brush bit wise across her mouth aud that expression on her mobile fea turcs. I always shut up. > don't know why it is. I hato to be put down by any body But there's something in that look shuts me up like a jackkuifo. The brush was in Kitty's mouth now. Sho removed it to remark sweetly: "I'trust we'sha'n't disturb you. penile men. Make, yourselves quite at home We do not intrude, do we?" Raebumo commenced to stammera re ply, but there was evidently something in tho situation that overcame him. for he stuck fast. I t?>?>k advantags of his con fusion to slid*' "The Carnival of Crime" nnder a neighboring sofa. Then I turned to Kitty and said bluntly: "We didn't know you were at home. Why didn't yon advise us?" "My dear." said Kittv. turning to tho j blonde maiden, without notieuig'mymies- I tion. "let me introduce you to Mr. Mal- j eoir.?. a"gentleman who sometimes do?gtis i to guide my faltering stops in scare!; of j tho beautiful and the true. Mr. Malcolm, let mtv present to you the upper section of my friend. Miss Windoin." While Kitty was speaking 1 was bowing in my most faultless manner to the beau tiful head that roso'abovo tho screen like ! a Raphael s cherub. But. when she came to the name of the fair unknown I straightened up so suddenly that I fancied I could he n- my backbone click like an open clasp knife. "Miss Windoni!" I repeated. Then I looked at her and glanced at Fred. Both had tnmed a beautiful peony color. I transferred my gaze to Kitty's deniure L<tcu. luuo >??ir9 ? m miviv m tue v-vi?ic*. j of ono of her eyes that was irresistible?I ! threw myself into an armchair and bnrst j into a loud guffaw. Kitty's demurcness went all to pieces in a moment and sho i went off into ?ts of laughter. Fred and tho girl hesitated a little, meanwhile go ing through those physico-mental pro cesses familiarly known as "turning all colors of the rainbow" and "looking seven ways for Sunday." But Kittys laugh was contagious, and presently they were forced to join us. he looking rather sheep ish, and she with a most charming blush on her cheeks and a flutter of the down cast eyelids that added considerable to my admiration of her pretty face. "Well," said Kitty, after we had in a raeasnre recovered our equanimity, "Mr. Malcolm, if you will fold back this screen we will come out. and then you can be presented to the rest of Miss Wmdom." "That reminds me of a story," said L proceeding to remove the screen. Tho ladies came out and took seats. Fred ensconced himself on the sofa beside his fair inamorata, who indeed seemed noth ing loath. "Are there any ladies in thi3 story?" asked Kitty. "You must: know. Miss Wlndom," she went on, turning her gray eyes pensively upon Fred, "that Mr. Mal colm, like Mr. Raeburno. is a person of whom our sex is apt to bo 'deuced fond.' That is the phrsse, eh. Mr. Raeburnor Fred clasped his hands entreatingly, and besought his tormentor in dumb snow to have pity. "Oh, let up. Kitty, do." I pnt in. "or at least let up on mo. I'vo done nothing to call for any such sarcastic remark on vour part." "All right," said Kitty, "Im mute. Giro as tho story." "You all know Mr. Clarerhouse?" I be gan; "at least by reputation?" They, of course, had all heard of that celebrated wit. "I met him on board the yacht of a mu tual friend, last summer," I went on. "At dinner Mr. Claverjbouso was, very entertaining, as usual. By and by he got to telling us about his yacht, the Fear less, lie became" quite eloquent in de scribing tho splendors of her cabin. *You m?m?ust know,' said he, "that she? e?e?'s very well done up inside. Wh?h?y, she?e?e's got two pier glasses that1 are be?be?anties. Yon look in one and yon see yo?yo?yo?your self down to here,' indicating lus knees. 'Then y?y?ou tack across and Icok in the o?o?other, and y?y?you see your self up to here,' abdicating his chest. Full view in t?t?two shots.' 'So.' con cluded I, 'I've, gotten introduced-to*Miss Windom in two shots!' . ; , The telling of this reminiscence had the one good effect of relieving the awkward ness of the situation, which three of ns at least were willing to put behind us. After this we slid into a general con versation. Fred was at first a trifle shy. But as it appeared that Kitty had con cluded to "let up on US," as I had sug gested, Fred gradually came out of winter quarters and beamed on us again with his usual conversational warmth. . "I didn't know," he sa?'! to Miss Wln dom, "that you and Ki?Miss Kitty were acquainted. How long have y?u' known each oiherf"/ "Let nie sec," returned the girl, looking over at Kitty, "how long have we known each other, Miss. Clyde?" Then the two/ for somo inexplicable reason, went off into another fit. It is astonishing how much'langhtor that can't be accounted for is^ndul'ged'in at times by tho sex. . "Oh, I dare say it's very amusing," ex-. claimed Fred; in a fluster; "but'donVybu'' think it would convey more .information to us who are not in the secret if yon'd answer my question?" '*Como here, Fred," said Miss Windom,* resuming her gravity and'her perpen dicular at tho same time. *Tyo some thing to show you. May I?" sho asked of Kitty, as she passed her:' Kitty shrugged her shoulders, and the young girl evidently taking this as a sign of assent, led her swain to the .further, end of the room, where Kitty's easel stood near a back window. There they leaned over a picture which stood upon the easel, but which was invisible to me from where I'sat: Seeing them engaged together I turned to Kitt^ and demanded: - "Will you please inform me nowyMiss Clyde, how this 'School for Scandal' situ ation has come to be precipitated upon us" two offensivo mortals?'' "Nothing easier," quoth Kitty. Then, she relapsed for a moment into an amused chuckle. "Excuse me, Malcolm, but it was so funny. When you two men got oat Xit your chair3 you looked for ail tho world as if von hadr lust been carted around from tho Eden Muscc." I tried to appear amused, and'waited patiently for Kitty's explanation: "You sec," she began, "I havo been do ing some more work for Tho Talltower. This time 1 have been writing up tho Gotham studios. Well; in my distribution' of puffs I did not forget myself, you may b? sure. I described elaborately those sketches I made on the Jersey coast last summer. Tho pen pictures' were some how a good deal' nicer than tho brush ones," commented Kitty pensively. "Well, it so [Happened that Miss Windom saw the article, and." Being; an amateur of painting and having sketched on the Jersey coast herself, sho camo up to see my pictures. What's moro, she bought some of them." added Kitty, looking ever to where Miss Windom was just then making a pretty picture of herself, bend in* over.the easel with the winter sun light falling ^ her blond* bead, turning1 tho masses of her hair into'gold.' "What havo you got on the easel over there?" I queried. "It's a portrait of her?Laura." Kitty, replied. "She liked my method so well that she insisted on ray painting her por trait. You know she's very rich, and she" pays mo quite handsomely for it. She is a "dear, good girl, and I'm very fond of her." looking affectionately at the subject of her encomiums. "She comes up nearly everyday' for a sitting. Wo were at it when von camo in. I was just finishing ono of Ler eyes, and told lier to keep quiet for a moment. Then tho" conversation out hero became so personal that we couldn't announce ourselves." And Kitty relapsed into an amused giggle. "Kitty." I said severely, "that joke'is I getting to be a chestnut." At this moment the other two joined us, and we drew up together around tho cozy fireplace and prepared to spend a pleasant i afternoon together Kitty made tea. I ordinarily hate tea. but as Kitty makes it (Russian fashion, she says), and served with a slice of lemon. It i ; far fror. i.ad. By and by she got down her banjo and played us two or three soft, plaintive melodies, which had the effect of steeping us in a sort of ten der melancholy. Raeburno, indeed, bo came so maudlin that nothing would do him but that Miss Windom should sing. That is always tho way. Whenever I sco a lovely face which quite satisfies me, some idiot insists on the statue opening its mouth to disenchant me. I settled back in my chair and prepared to hear "White Wings," or "The Lost Chord." with what fortitude I might. Miss Win dom took the banjo, struck a few soft notes, and then in a low. sweet voice, full of expression, sang the verses which fol low 1 ?v>t a copy of then afterward from Raebnrnc; It seems he wrote them one moonlight night during an especially desperate "risis of the tender passion. . Miss Windom composed the air. I was surprised <:i reading then to find so littlo of the dreamy pathos that seemed to per vade them, ?jvheu Miss Windom sang them. Sweetheart of raise, lapped in the grloom I lie *?tid bitter tlnnf'.:; s. Vet, dear, 1 will rejoice. If it br so. that 1 nu:.-t make the choice, To take my love aud let the world go br, Sweet heart of mine. Sweetheart of nine; far through tho silent night 3Iy heart turns toward my darliug where she lies. To breatbo a kiss upon her fast shut eyes. And fill her sleep with happy dreams and bright, i Sweetheart of mice, ~> Sweetheart of raise, whatever may befall; Come weal, corne woe; come pleasure or cooic paia: . . Sorrows shall beat upon my heart irt .vaia; Your perfect love fcr rrcompeosg for all? Sweetheart of mine. ^ When "the ?ast notes had died away there was au eloquent silence- I mentally followed Goldsmith's example and handed tho young lady my hat. Dut the irre pressible Eacburcic could not long bo muzzled. "Thanks awfally, Le^ra," ho said. *! could sit here forever \>. listen to yctt. Could not you. Miss-CIyU. ?" "Hardly forever, unless I was 'deuced ?_ joke was getting^ shop worn. But it's just as well to#have Fred squelch ed onco in a while. If not he's apt to be come so dreadfully universal. Miss Windou. with a little sigh, pot down the banjo, and, rising, said witbraa' expressive glance at Baeburno: "I really must go. Thank you very much for my pleasant afternoon,. Miss Clyde. May ?? may I say Kitty*" "That yon may," responded our little hostess heartily. "I shall be only too pleased to Lave yon/' Miss Whidom strolled over to the win dow and began drawing on her gloves. "How strangely a few sisrplo notes can aft cet one/' said I, assuming my favorite Colossus of Rhodes attitude before the fire. "I remember in Paris onco being awakoned by a band organ playing 'Home, Sweet Home* teneatb my window, and do yon know"?? " There is somebody going to play 'Home, Sweet Home,' beneath this win dow," cried Miss' Wisdom,* startlag back from the casement, out of which she had been pensively gazing as ehe buttoned her glove. "What's tho matter?" cried Kitty, hast ening toward the evidently disturbed damscL .? "Mrs. Rutledge's carriage is ct the door," exclaimed the latter. "She prom ised to call for me. Oh, dear, what shall I do? She will be simply furious" h?"sbfr finds Fred here." . - - "Oh, never mind her," said Kitty reas suringly. "She won't come up. Shell send the fcotraan." "Oh, yes, sho will," said- 3Ss? Wfo?nm/~ "See," sho exclaimed, peeping cautiously from the window, "there she is getting ont?and?yes?she's coming right into thohouso." Thero was no doubt about it. In a moment we heard the. elevator boy oat* > side. "That door, ma'am, No.' OL* .': . "Thank yoxu l'es," a harsh voko re sponded, "l see the name on the door.** . And then there came a loud, authorita tive knock. Luckily tho door was not open, as it had been when we came up. There was a moment for deliberation. ? looked around. .. "The screen*" I whispered toKittfr-. "The very thing," she mnrmured becl?. "But, no. Mrs. Rutledgo ^ a regnlaz monser. Whenever sho comes hero with Laura sho invariably prowls over the whole place and pokes into everything^** "li?t?tat?tatl" came from the door 'insistently. - "I have it," came all at once frora KittyV in an exaggerated stage whisper.' "Here, Laura. Take your chair at once. -"So. Now. then, Mr. Raeburno/ stand here. Hurry, Malcolm, help me to roUfhe^eriwn" around hi?a. On yoarknees, MrrRaeburhe. Yon can pray a little in tho meanwhile, H.. you want to, for our escape. Ton might do something to assist tho general e??pt." With this, and having Baebnrne fairly imprisoned, she. proceeded to throw over"/ : the screen a heavy portiere, which was . one of the properties; so to-speak, of her ' atelier. "Don't yon,dare even to breathe,** was ' herparth^injunctkra\to poor Fred. "I'm not likely to, " came ia smothered tones from under the picture. ''A?^hool Whewl How dusty that curtain is!" ' Rat-tat-tat-bang! came from the doof. x And. then a hand, rattled'the knob im f patiently. ,..... "What shall I do with you; Mal lm?f* gasped Kitty "Oh. I know Here, harry. \ Take this cloak," producing an immense, * ?Bagy. red affair. "Now. the h?t,^cram-> ming a big. flapping Mexican arrangement over both eyes and ears. "Now, th?f dagger. There, stand in this dark corner, - with your face to the wall, and try to look wooden?no, don't try; just look natural and youH do. " - . Having got me thus thoroughly <Ss- . guised as a lay figure the little woman turned with an1 elaborate courtesy in the direction of tbe door. . . >/ "Now, madam-.*" she said, "l am atryoa? service."" She stuck a paint brush across her: mouth in business Uk? fashion, hung ber. palette on her thumb and opened the' door. "Oh, Mrs. Rutledge?you?rm so sorry to have kept you, waiting." Cnteigned- * surprise was in every tone of Kitty's short speech: . Mi-s" Rutledge bowed without saying* anything in mply. and walked ma jest ieally into the room; ?mid a pfodigous nisthng of sillvs. Sbe surveyed the apartment for moment (1 could see her in a small mirror, that hung ou'tke' wall directly1 in front of me), sniffed once or twice ana then asked' . abruptly: "Is there any,one else here?" "Only Miss" Windom. .as* yoa seci madam," responded Kitty, innocently. Who's been smoking?" demanded Mrs. Rutledge. with another sniff. "Er?only me." Kitty was evidently" taken aback by this question, which was in the nature of a poser, but seeing there was but one way out of the dilemma'she" walked into' it like the tittle heroine she is. , - Von smoke?" queried the elder lady, severely. "Yei," said Kitty. "You know we Bo hemians will havo "our little dissipations. By the way, if you don't cikidTU have a cigarette now:" Suiting t'?o action to- flic word. Kltt/ picked up my case where I had chanced to by it cn the mantel, selected a ci garet to* with the air of a connoisseur. Ht H and; began to puff I could see a qualm passr over the poor little woman's face as she'" expelled tho first mouthful of smoke, bat wiiirtho resolution of a martyr sho stuck fo her cigarette to'the vx> small astonish* ment and disgust of her caller. "I owe you an apology for keeping yoa waiting. Mrs. Butiedge?" explained Kitty. "Bat tho fact is. I was at work cn a very ?.elicT.to part of tho portrait when you. knocked?one of your ward's beautiful* eyes, and. not dreaming *hat it could bo you, I" thought it best to finish before go ing to the door." "Oh, Kitty, you little pocket edition cf Sapphira, how glibly you did lie that whi ter afternoon!" Mrs. But ledge turned to her ward. "Are you almost ready to go homCy Lar.ra?" she asked. "Not quite. Mrs. Rutledge. But yotr needn't wait. 1 can walk quite as well. It will be tiresome for you up here witir nothing to do." "I shall wait." interposed the matron abrupt ly Then going up to the girl, sho looked at her closely. "Laura," she said/ "what is the matter with yo?? Youarc: flushed and trembling. Laura (diapason), havo you been seeing"that man a^ain?" "What man?" murmured poor Laura. But here a suppressed sneeze from un derneath the portiere interrupted her. Mrs. Rutledge turned hastily around. "What was that?" sho demanded, look> ing suspiciously at tho screen. "Oh, it was only the cuckoo clock,** tn> terposed Kitty, hastily,, pointing to ear aged specimen of t hat kind of furniture^ standing >n tho corner just beyond the? screen^ ' 'You see. my clock- is so old that tho striking machinery is all worn out." When tho hour comes round the old dock; instead of striking, just gives a big wheeze' like that. It often startles me just as it did vou." "Brave Kitty, that was a pretty bold bluff," said I to myself, ''seeing that tte* CONT1KTED OK FCtfST?- PA<iB;