Historical Newspapers of South Carolina

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'tte Picha au jSotttltrou, ? _. - ? _;_ T? SUMTER WATCHMAN, kt??bu8h?d April, 1850. "Be Just and Fear not-Let all the Ends thon Aims't at, be thy Country's, thy God's and Truth's " TH* TKUK SOUIBKON, _?t.bii?ke? ju?*, tte Consolidated Aug. 2, 1881.1 Sew Series-Yoi. X. Ko. 3S. ?|t S?la?cjmiaa d? J? oui lpn Published wrery Wednesday, BY N. a. OSTEEN, SUMTER, S. C. TB&M8: Two Dollars per annum-io advance. ADT?RTI8HI?T8. On? Square, first insertion..................$l 00 Iwry subsequent insertion_._ 50 Contracts for three months, or longer win ho made at reduced rates. ' - All communications which subserve private interests will be charged fox as advertisements. Obituaries and tributes of respect will be charged for. bye and a Scrap Book By DAVID A> (JUSTIS. [Copyright bj American Press Association.] CHAPTER L HOW THEY HST. Star the foot of these treeslay a woman in a faint. Across from a field, far to the right of fte dusty road, came the sound of & ahon.t. The air, quivering with, sommer heat, seemed reluctant to carry it Everything had been so still before that the faint murmurs of insect life and the chattering and barking of the red squir? rels m the stone walis had seemed like disturbances, and the stillness, like a sentient being, had merely moved a lit? tle to make room for an annoyance, Bottling down again after each small noise Eke a tired sleeper. Then the shoot came, flying straight and swiftly, across the meadows and fell plump in tile dost. Then arl was still again. Not even a bird chirped. ' Yoong Fanning moved uneasily in his deep. He was lying on the grass in the shade of a hnge elm, waiting for the cooler part of the day before rambling further on the purposeless stroll he had undertaken. The sodden noise, faint as it was, broke his deep slumber and set him dreaming. The dream awoke htm. Another shoot followed the first, and as if nature had been roused from a slumber like bis own the air stirred more readily-the sound came less like a rifle bullet. It was more prolonged than the first, and there was an accent to it sufficient to bring yoong Fanning to bis feet. Some one was calling for kelp. fie listened a moment, bot the air was stQl again. It was a stillness that, like Egypt's darkness, could be felt Raising Ins voice, he sent out a mighty cry that shattered the repose. A little breeze stirred. A bird called back with a little -carol. A crow cawed lazily from his perch somewhere in the woods. Fan? ning waited, listening keenly. There was a brief delay. Then the third call caine, fainter and yet plainer than the others. "A woman waa calling and her voice was'throbbing with pain. Fanning was bored: He had left his chambers in the city for a lazy toar on foot, leefing that work was out'of the question by reason of the heat, and here on th? first day he was called on to res? cue ac unknown woman from unknown trouble. He fort that it was an imposi? tion, bu t corad not ase his way clear to ignore tho demand, being very human. Tightening Aar belt, he sprang lightly over the low stone wall and ran across the fields directly toward the spot where the woman lay. It was rough ground, and be ran very swiftly, bnt his breath was easy and measured, his head was erect and his chest well ont. He was a rather small man, bot hos. spare frame was all bone and muscle, and every muscle was well* developed. A quarter of a mile, of this easy run? ning brought him to a little grove. It was a neglected place. The undergrowth was rank and tangled. Briery ? boots were interlaced like a network without order or design. Weeds choked the bet? ter capabilities of the soil. Saplings that cambered space drained the vitality of worthier trees, and none were thrifty ex? cepting a few old ones that were strong enough to hold their own and that looked down with lofty contempt at the brush beneath. It was a world in little. Near the foot of these trees, as Fan? ning saw, drawing near, lay a woman in a faint. The man looked, in a dis? gust that was almost unnatural, and his first word was a malediction. Then he sighed and mopped his face with a hand? kerchief that was at once wet through. Then his face took on a professional look, and he muttered to himself, "Lucky I have taken my degree. There might be a scandal about this. " Then the woman became the patient, and the man, equally unconscious of the change, became the physician. Sex was eliminated from the problem suggested by the Situation. Like any oth*r verity, however, it failed to remain eliminated. Bot that was afterward. He looked keenly, ami seeing that he had a swoon to treat first, he deftly and quickly loeseoed her dress at the neck, and lift? ing ?er a little with his left hand, cot "the laces of her corset, slashing through third ress with ins penknife, unhesita? tingly. Then with his strong, nimble ringers he tore tho gap wider and loosened the string. Laying her back on the ground be fanned her with his hat "Naturally in such a case," he grum? bled to himself, "there is no water at hand." Luckily, however, the swoon was not J deep, and she sat op presently, looking at Ism with a question in her eyes that j disappeared almost instantly. Pain j chased it away. **Xake a swallow of this,'* he said, pro? ducing a pocket flask. She obeyed, and the raw whisky made her cough. She looked reproachfully at htm. "That is all right," he said reassor fcfejra "Now tell mo how you are hurt" Egi slipped and wrenched my foot, and ?Sen I trie! to walk I fainted. I fancy "Which foot9" "The left** With the word came ac involuntary movement and a sharp cry as the spasm of pain followed. "Dont move it," he said hastily, and in a matter of fact way he raised hes skirt and looked. Feeling, not seeing, her surprise, for his eyes did not wandei to her face, he said simply, "I am i physician." Then, though he was too busy to know it, sex asserted itself, and if he had look? ed at her face instead of her foot hi would have seen a pretty picture, mos! ? interesting to a philosopher, though per? haps not to one of his school, he being profoundly materialistic. Margaret La timer was incapable ol the petty trivialities of protest that a l weak woman would have made. It did not occur to her to make an outcry and affect squeamishness, but her eyes flash? ed fire. Fanning, had he seen her face, must have humbled himself in abject apology, brusque and harsh as he was, but fortunately he was entirely ignorant of her indignation, and took the swollen ankle in his hand without the slightest hesitation. To her it was as if the ground had opened under her. To be touched ano" gazed at in this fashion was simply in? comprehensible. Her face, that was marble a moment before, became sud? denly like a damask rose. Her eye told her that Fanning was a gentleman, and his touch proved that he was truthful in claiming to be a physician, but The ready penknife was cutting away the substantial boot When that was off it passed steadily and swiftly around above the ankle, and with one downward sweep destroyed the stocking. Then came again the most excruciating pains as his skillful fingers pressed gently here and there. Physicians say there is an order of high intelligence which belongs to a portion of the human race and which makes most difficult patients. Even sickness and pain fail to subdue it, and one gifted with it is as recalcitrant under treat? ment as a lawyer's client who has a smattering of legal knowledge. He will oppose theories, question methods and even refuse medicaments that do not ap? prove themselves to his mind, and double the doctor s task by forcing him to over? come mental obstinacy together with physical ailment. The surgeon meets with less of this passive resistance than the physician, since his work is not com? monly complicated ^ h mental process? es, but there ?ire ?JK in which he must first reduce his r#65it to submission be? fore he can proceed with treatment. Such a case, to his great surprise, Dr. Fanning found this,to be. Amazement kept this young woman nient for a few moments. The unprece? dented situation-at least it seemed so io her-bewildered her, and strong as 3he was it was a little time before she jould decide whether to submit to this benevolent stranger or not. At length she decided. "Stop a moment, doctor," she said quietly. Fanning looked up. He turned his face merely. The hand which still held her ankle was as rigidly immovable as if it were graven out of steeL "I know that the pain is intense." he said kindly, "bat it is inevitable that you must suf? fer it There is a bone broken, and it must be set.". "It is not the pain that 1 am thinking of," said Miss Latimer; **that is bad enough, but the situation is worse, i am more than thankful for your kind? ness, but we will suspend operations for the present. My bouse is only half a mile away, and I prefer to wait until I can be taken home before I am treated." Fanning looked at her closely and thought he understood her. The flush had not left her face, and it lent unusual beauty to a countenance that showed the highest breeding as well as marked in? telligence. As if she had spoken all her thoughts, he knew that even in her pain? ful plight she was mindful of the pro? prieties, and that the ministrations which she would have accepted as a matter of course if her mother had been present were simply insupportable under the cir cumstances. To her it seemed that virgin pride was asserting itself. To him it seemed-that she was the slave of a fool? ish conventionality. He did not hesitate an instant. "Boshr he exclaimed roughly. "I ? shall not allow you to bo moved until the bone is properly set and your ankle is bandaged." And without more ado he turned his attention to his. business, which, as be conceived it, was to see that no further injury should come to her foot it was perhaps well for. him that he did not look at her face again for a time. For her the world seemed to have come to an end. Here was a male of her spe? cies who not only set her expressed wish at defiance, but who was actually hand? ling her person as if she were the tools of his trade instead of a rebellious princess of society. Evidently "the divinity that doth hedge about" a maiden had no ter? rors for him. He was to her first a man, and secondly a physician. She was to him first a patient, and secondly-noth? ing whatever. Pride would not allow her to make further protest in words. One movement as if to arise, and, confronting, to sL?> him with her eyes, gave her such a pang j that she ^recognized her powerlessness . again. Then, like a destroying flash of lightning, came a single throb of agony when the bone slipped into place and all became a blank. But even as she swooned away into unconsciousness she was raging like an insulted empress at the single word "steady," which he bad spoken coolly when she moved first Once more Fanning looked up, after he had satisfied himself that the tone was properly set "H'm ? fainted again, eh," he said to himself without emotion. "That's well. Now well get this bound i up, and then see to getting her home." And forthwith the handy penknife was at work again, whittling out some rude splints. In his skillful fingers it mored rapidly, and a few minutes more were I enough to put matters right so far as I they could be put Nature must do the rest. The second swoon was deeper than the first, and the young physician had more trouble than before in restoring his nn- | willing patient to consciousness. Pa- j tiently and steadily, however, he worked I until she opened her eyes again and looked at him with an expression which he could not understand. Utterly un? conscious of having given any cause for offense, and fully alive to tho fact that j he had seriously discommoded himself , ! to serve an entire stranger, he was con- , j firmed in his cynicism by seeing no ! i gleam of gratitude in her eyes, and he j cursed her in his heart for a selfish con- j I ventional society miss-an order of being he heartily despised. Being a thorough gentleman, however; only par ! tially corrupted by meretricious philoso? phy, he could not fail to recognize the ? ? fact that she was a gentlewoman, and ! his speech was courteous, at least in j form. I "You say your home is not far away," he said. "If you will direct me to it I will get help and have you carried thither. Your foot is all right now if you will lie perfectly still, hut I shall have to leave you here alone." "I am sorry to trouble you so ? much," she replied, as coldly polite as he, though her lips were still white from pain, "but there seems to be ?no alternative. My house is yonder," jointing, "and some of the servants will come at once if yon will tell them. Will you kindly warn them to say nothing to mamma till I get there? I do not want her to be frighten? ed needlessly." He bowed, and in another moment was gone. As the sound of his footsteps and the rustle Of pushing through the undergrowth died away the stillness grew intense again. Margaret Latimer closed her eyes and thought deeply. The fury of rage that had swept upon her when this young stranger so coolly de? fied her died away. She had been used to having her lightest word treated as a command, and it was confusing to have a gentleman say "boshr to her, but her native sense after a few mo? ments' reflection justified the man. Moreover 'the shock to her dignity and modesty seemed a trivial thing after she had thought of it. What had he done? He had treated her with the most pro? found delicacy and consideration, pos? sibly consistent with his duties as a surgeon, and had, moreover, rendered her a service which she could hardly overestimate. Supposing she had lain there, as it might easily have happened, all day, even all night, before help came. Supposing she had been moved before the broken bone was set and she had been lamed for life. She began to feel very kindly toward the man she just condemned as a ruthless boor. And she remembered, with a slight blush that he was good to look at, and that his maimer when he was not employed as a physician was perfect. She could forgive everything but the "bosh!" Yes, and she could forgive that. Meantime Fanning was thinking very little of her and very much of the annoy? ance he was put to. He had started out for a day of rest, and here he was en? gaged in a distinctly disagreeable Vork of compassion for a woman in whom he had not the faintest interest. However, there was no way to avoid it, and he went on. Presently he came to a large, old fashioned country mansion with spa? cious grounds. Near the gate was an old gardener, whom he hailed and informed of toe facts. The gardener went at once for the coachman, and all three were speedily driving back to the grove in a low, easy carriage. Very little was said till the lady was placed in the carriage. Then Fanning lifted his hatband would have turned away, but she detained him with a gest? ure. "You will surely not. leave me thus," she protested: "I have not even told you how greatly I feel indebted to you for"- Then a spasm of pain turned her face wliite again, and Fan? ning entered the carriage. 'You need not feel indebted," he said very cooli}*. "I have only done what any physician was bound to do. But I will see you home if you desire it, though your servants could doubtless take you safely." He remembered what she had said about her mother, and had hoped to escape a scene of hysteria and thankful? ness, but seeing that his patient still suf? fered greatly, he felt bound to remain with her. All came-hysteria and gushing thanks, and he was more than thankful when he escaped from the house an hour later, having given his patient a sleeping draught, and assured her mother that no danger was to be apprehended. "At least you will tell me, doctor, to whom I am indebted for my daughter's preservation," said the sweet faced, white haired old lady, after he had protested for the twentieth time that she owed him no great gratitude. He fumbled in his pocket and brought out a card which read: j DANIEL FANNING, M. D., . : No. 3 WEST FORTIETH ST., : : Nsw Yonjc : Then he strode rapidly away, forget? ting utterly that lie had not learned the name of the people who had failed to ex? cite even a faint interest in his mind. A week later Miss latimer looked np from her reading and said, * 'Mamma, how very pretty this is;" and she read: How often is our path Crossed by some being whose bright spirit sheds A passiDg gladness o'er it, but whose course Leads down another current, nevermore To ?lead with oars. Ye. far within our souls, Amid the bustle of this busy world, Dvrells many a thought that linders closely still Around tha; image. "Yes, ic is pretty," said Mrs. Latimer, "but I don't see anything very remarka? ble about it, do you?" Miss Latimer made no reply, but she presently asked for scissors and cut out the scrap, laving it carefully away until she should have time to paste it in her scrap book. CHAPTER IL DISASTER. Daniel Fanning had been burdened in early life with the inheritance of a modest fortune. Having no faintest trace of business faculty and a strong inclination ? to study he had chosen his profession j without regard to its emoluments, an? had begun practice without caring whether he should make it lucrative or not. His income was sufficient for his moderate wants, and his capital was s > invested as to give him no concern what? ever. His guardian had handed over the accounts when he was 21, and ha/1 j bade him farewell without emotion, hav- j ing no interest in him personally and l>e ing greatly relieved at the thought that j the responsibility was ended. He had i no relatives, so far ?is he knew, and no j intimate friend. Even at college he had i found books more attractive than men, j and had shunned intimacies after one unfortunate experience. To him, sitting one evening in his of- \ fice alone, came the demon of unrest. It said: "Why do you sit here through the best years of your life? There is a whole world to see, and what have you seen of it? What is there to keep you here when j there is so much on earth far you to learn ; by observation?** It was au idle thought born of noth- 1 ing, ?>erhaps, but on the very next day he was making his preparations for a year or more of travel. It mattered nothing whether he should be gone for one year or five. He notified his patients that he was about to leave tho city there wero not many to notify. He ar? ranged to store his books and gave notico to the people from whom he hired his office that he was going abroad and would sail at once. All this was an easy task quickly done. ; After he liad completed it an 1 was ready to sail, the thonght came suddenly that it would be well to travel for a while in his own country before sailing? and he started for the west. Three weeks later he was in Bloomington, Ills. S?tr?g at nightfall in the smoking room of a hotel, there he became aware that a stranger was looking closely at him, bnt he gave the matter no special thought until the stranger came up and said quietly, "Yon are my prisoner, Cork ins." "You (ire my prisoner, Corkins." Then he looked up with a smile, being really amused for the moment, and said: "You are mistaken in the person, my good fellow. My name is not Corkins: it is Fanning." "That s very well played," said the de? tective, for such the stranger was. ' 'You have got a good nerve, sure. But you know you can't fool me, don't you? 1 know you too well. Now, will you come with me quietly or not?" And he showed a policeman's shield. "I will go quietly, of course, if you are in earnest," said Fanning, "but, really, this is a most absurd mistake." "Very sensible of you, too," said the detective, groaning, "but you know you can't play that game. You're too well known. ? wonder at you coming back here so soon." "Coming back!" exclaimed Fanning, in some surprise. "I never was in this town in my life till today." "Very well, stick to it, if that's your lay," rejoined the other with some dis? gust, "but it's remarkably foolish when there are so many here that know you." And he made no further attempt to talk with his prisoner, but led him straight? way to the police station, where Fan? ning thought that a simple explanation would set things right at once. To his dismay, however, the chief of police and the sergeant at the desk seemed to recog? nize him as positively as the detective bad done. He became alarmed. "At least tell me who you think 1 am, and what I am accused of," he ex? claimed, when he found that his expla? nations were of no avail. "Plays it well, doesn't he?" said the chief with a smile before answering, and the others laughed. Then he said: "You are accused, John Corkins, of burglari? ously entering Hayes & Mead's jewelry store and stealing $4.000 in money from their safe." Fanning would have remonstrated fur? ther, but seeing that it was useless he wisely forbore and submitted to being searched and locked up for the night "It is wretchedly unpleasant," he said to himself, "but no doubt it will be all cleared up in the morning. It cannot be that any police justi?o will hold me on the charge of burglary." And he smoked a cigar which he had been allowed to re? tain, and tried with rather poor .success to sleep. Bat in the morning he found that it was altogether possible for such a thing to happen. The magistrate before whom he was brought for examination was a stern though not unkindly man, who seemed disposed to do exact justice, and who listened attentively to what Fan? ning had to say, but the testimony of the police was so positive that he had really no discretion ia tho matter. "If you are really a New York phy? sician," he said to the prisoner, "you will have no trouble in establishing your identity. In the mean time I shall hold you for trial in ?10,000 bail. Have you any counsel?" On learning that the prisoner had not considered it necessary to secure a law? yer, the judge smiled somewhat grimly and told him that no obstacle would be put ii) tho way of his doing it. and then Fanning was led away to his celL Ho was confused, almost stunned, by tho gravity of his situation, and when tho keeper spoke, not unkiadly, to him he only answered: "I must think it over. { do not know what to do." Tho more he thought the more serious the case seemed, although no doubt of j Iiis acquittal yet entered his mind. To give bail was impossible without send? ing to Xew York, and he was reluctant to apply to any of his acquaintances for such a favor. Possibly it would be use? less to do so. A bondsman would have to own real estate in the county, lie re? membered. Bnt when the case should come to trial there would be no difficulty surely in establishing his identi ty. Mean? time it would be well to secure a lawyer, as the judge had intimated. He did so, but the result of his first in? terview with Mr. Playfair, who was rec? ommended to him, was that that gentle? man, having talked with the police be? fore he saw Fanning, decided in his own mind that he had a criminal, and a remarkably foolish one, for a client. He hinted as much after he had ques? tioned Fanning. "Remember," he said, j "that it is tho worst possible policy to j conceal anything from your counsel." j Thereat Fanning flew in a rage-a ! most uncommon thing for him to do- ? and came near quarreling with his best ! and only friend, though he was only a ; hired attorney. However, Playfair apolo- j gized-for he had pocketed a very literal fee-and smoothed his client down by promising to exert himself and do the very best he could. To dei him justice, j he really intended to do the best he could j -fur himself. He had no hope of clear- j ing his client, but at least he could get ! considerable money out of him. It so happened that he wanted zo go to New : York on some business of his own, and he suggested-partly to try Iiis client's sincerity, but also with : J eye to person- j al thrift-that if his expenses were paid he would go himself and bring back one or two witnesses who would testify to Farming's identity. The philosophical reader will perceive two simple but invaluable morals in what followed. First, that when jns- : rice is dependent opon legal processes it will net do to neglect one point of proof, no matter how insignificant it may seem or how overwhelming other evidence may Ix*. The second is that circumstantial evidence is not worth the trouble of remembering, if it can, on any bypotljesis whatever, be interpreted in more than one way. Innocent men have l>een hanged on circumstantial evidence, because the true explanation of the cir? cumstances stnni'd far fetched and un? reasonable. And how should this not be so when circumstances happened as they did to eon net Fanning? Yes. lie would send Playfair to New j York certainly, ami would pay his ex- I penses, and he indebted greatly to him For going, It happened that on startii on his travels he had closed his bank a count, drawing out almost $4,000, ai he had nearly the whole amount wi him when he was arrested, a fact whi told against him afterward. Money w of little value to him in comparison wi the establishment of his innocence, ai he unhesitatingly counted out as mm as Playfair asked for, seeing which tl latter instantly reproached himself f the last time in his life for not askii for more. He contented himself, ho* ever, with the thought that the case w still 3'ouug, and asked for instructions to how he should proceed when 3 reached New York. Fanning reflected for a few momenl Then he said: "Naturally 1 do not wa: the story of this thing to get about, will be enough if you go to Dr. Sandrin ham and to Mr. James Friend. Tl doctor knows me professionally ?and M Friend has charge of some business i terests of mine. I will write letters them and you can explain the case fully "Would it not be well to take yoi photograph also?*' suggested Playfair. 4,1 never had a photograph taken said Fanning. "We can have one taken easily enough said the other. "What possible necessity is thore f< that?" asked Fanning. "The letters wi be enough." Thc photograph, therefore, whic might very probably have changed tl whole current of affairs afterward w; not taken, and F lay fair, after two < three more interviews with his cliei and after .arranging with the district a torney for a trial within a month's tim started for New York. Fanning, left to himse?Tin a most di agreeable predicament, summoned a his philosophy to his aid, and succeed? fairly well in reconciling himself to tl situation. He had always prided hin self on his philosophy, and felt a thri of gratified vanity in finding that it w* serviceable stuff and not mere theory. "I am in prison, it is true," ho reasoi ed, "but luckily it is for no fault of m own, therefore no disgrace really a taches to the fact, and the seeming di grace will soon be wiped away. Thei is no one on earth who will suffer an pain or suspense on my account, and fe this once I can congratulate myself o the fact that 1 am entirely alone in th world. Meantime a mouth is taken or of my life. Or is it really so? I ai having a disagreeable experience, bu after all it i<* an experience, and I ca make it serve in the development c character if I choose." He did so choose, and spent the tim studying and meditating. He was a lowed to use his own money, and live well at exorbitant prices, besides gettin the use of what few books he wanted for the jail servants were ready to d almost anything for him so long as h paid them As the day of his trial drew neal however, he began to be very appre hensive. He had only heard once fror his lawyer, having received a sing! letter from him, written on the day o his arrival in New York, and of cours containing no information beyond tb announcement of arrival. He was se riously angry and even a little worrie?: by this outrageous neglect, but when h. sent a letter to Mr. Playfair'^ office t< make inquiries, that gentleman's clerl called at the jail, and informed hin that he had just received a letter fron his principal in which the latter sak that everything was progressing favor ably, but that he had been detainee longer than he expected to be. He woulc certainly return, however, in time foi Dr. Fining's trial. It m was very un satisfactory, but Fanning did not se< what he could do, situated as he was excepting to trust to his counsel, espe cially as everybody of whom he inquired assured him that Mr. Playfair was th? leading lawyer of the place (which wa not true), and that he had never prove? derelict in the performance of his pro fessional duties, which was true enougl in a sense. To do Mr. Playfair entire justice i< must be said that he had a conscience though it was subject to legal rules o? practice and to the decisions of the courts He therefore easily persuaded himseli that he was doing his full duty by Fan ning. And this he did the moro easilj because he felt convinced that his cliem was really John Corkins. On reaching New York he went first to Mr. James Friend, finding him to Ix a reserved, dignified looking man ol middle age, who carried on (according to the sign on the door of bis Wall streel office) the business of a "banker and broker." Mr. Friend listened quietly while Mr. Playfair explained his errand, and he read the letter which Fanning had writ? ten without the slightest change of coun? tenance. Mr. Friend was an excellent poker player. While he read and listened he was busily analyzing a difficult situa tion and dallying with a tremendous temptation. He had speculated heavily of late and had lost heavily. Fanning's property was in his hands, and because of Fanning's trust in him and great care? lessness about money matters it was not properly secured. If Fanning could be gotten out of the way for a few years all might be well. If, on tho other hand, Fanning should call for any very con? siderable amount at once it might mean disaster and even complete ruin. He reasoned it all out rapidly "beiore speaking. Then he said in a most busi? ness like manner: "This is a most sur? prising thing, Mr. Playfair. Dr. Fan niug certainly left New York about the time this burglary you mention was committed, but he went to Europe. I do not know his exact address just at this moment, but it is impossible that he should be in Illinois now." Even while he was speaking Mr. Friend realized that he was taking a long risk, ?and he trembled inwardly lest Playfair should press him with ques? tions. The lawyer, however, only saw confirmation of his own theory and was not disposed to be critical. 'But the hitter," he said. "Yon cer? tainly know whether that was writteu by Fanning or by an impostcr." 'The letter," said Friend, "was cer? tainly written by some one who knows something about Fanning's business, and it even has a resemblance to his handwriting, but it is not a close resem? blance, and if you will notice Lhere are two errors in spelling in it. Now Dr. Fanning is a highly educated man.'* "Yes. I noticed that," said the lawyer, pluming himself on his own astuteness, and so this trifle helped to lock the pris? on doors on an innocent man. "Now what on earth can that Cor? kins be thinking of to send mo to New York on such an errand as this?** thought Playfair as he left Wall street. He saw no more of Friend, and did not fora mo? ment suspect that that reputable lookin? mau drank much more brandy than was good for him that afternoon. "I will goto Dr. Sandringham,though," said Playfair to himself. "Corkins ;vays. and 1*11 dowhat I agreed to. Besides, it is interesting.? Dr. Sandringham was an extremely ; busy man, but very conscientious. Yes. j He knew Fanning, but had not seen him j very lately. A most promising young i man, who stood well in the profession, j What! In prison in Illinois? Impossible! Oh! a man there who claimed to be Fan? ning. Well, that could be easily settled. Fanning's office was right around the corner. Most remarkable thing! And the doctor called his secretary, and asked him if he would go to Fan? nings office and ask that gentleman to step around at once on important busi? ness. It was done, and the secretary presently returned saying that Dr. Fan? ning had "sailed for Europe about a month ago." What the servant at the door had said to the secretary was, "Sure, ho left here a month gone, an' I belave ho wint to Yarrup." The secretary's unintentional lie, however, tallied -with Friend's fiend? ish one, and together they seemed to be proof absolute. Dr. Sandringham hesitated. He was bewildered, and had Playfair produced Fanning's photograph he would certainly have investigated further, but lie was expected at two deathbeds, and when the lawyer gave up thc case, as he did ou the moment, the physician assumed that it must be one of attempted imposition, and straightway forgot all about it in the multiplicity of his own affairs. Playfair was also very busy. He did net write to Fanning because he bad no time to waste on a hopeless case. He did, however, meet his obligations so far as to return to Bloomington in time to see his client get a "fair trial." And his client, with a policy mare cautious than wise, refrained from upbraiding him lest he should be angered and so slight the case. * The result of this was that Playfair was j confirmed in his opinion of Fanning's j guilt and more puzzled than ever to ac- j count for his clumsy attempt to prove I himself somebody else. As for Fanning, tho announcement by his lawyer on thc very eve of the trial that he, the real Fanning, was in Europe was so stupefying that he could not de? cide what to do. The whole affai r seemed so monstrously impossible that he actu? ally found himself wondering whether he might not be insane. Then he checked himself, remembering that insanity often begins that way. The only thing to do, so far as he could see at the moment, was to go into court and tell bis story clearly and calmly and rely on his law? yer. It was preposterous to suppose that he could be convicted. He had a fair trial; fair, that is, in the hearing and consideration of all that was presented. It was proven that the burg? lary had been committed, and that be? yond reasonable doubt John Corkins had committed it And the prosecution pre? sented him as John Corkins. Then Fanning was sworn and told his story. He explained his possession of the amount of money in question and his presence in the city as they have already been explained in this story, and assured the court that he could easily be identi? fied in New York. As against this the prosecution pro? duced the three policemen already men? tioned and the warden of the Illinois state prison, who all swore positively that the prisoner was John Corkins be? yond the possibility of a doubt. The warden presented tho detailed written description of John Corkins taken down when he had previously been sent to prison for a similar crime, and it tallied exactly with Fanning's appearance, even ! to the location of a small mole on hts neck. To do Playfair justice once more he fought hard for his client on technicali? ties, and insisted that the identification was a mistaken one; but tho ..proof" j was too conclusive. Judge and jury \ alike believed that Fanning's story was j a bold and by no means an ingenious lie. He was found guilty and sentenced j to ten years of hard labor in the state i prison. I CHAPTER UL DISCOVERY. "/ irish to knoir tvhat this story means." It has been mentioned that Miss La ti? mer had a scrap book. Now, one scrap book differs from another scrap book as the north star differs from au ^distin? guishable atom in the Milky Way, but any scrap book is or may be valuable. The man or woman who keeps a scrap book as it may be kept becomes danger? ous because powerful. If knowledge really be power little bits of knowledge rescued from among the flotsam and jet? sam of the printing press and preserved, in a fashion that enables the i>osscssor to put his finger upon them become like so many dynamite cartridges stored away for possible use and capable of most ef? fective explosion. It is not given to everybody to realize this; but as for me I pray that mine enemy may never keep a scrap book. If he should I hope he may never know how to keep it well. Miss Latimers scrap book, it may bo said, was nothing more than one of j those huge, misshapen volumes, into ! which are pasted, without order, and often without reason, such "scraps*' (properly so called) as may chance to strike the owner's fancy at the moment they arc perceived. These b<x)ks become in time stored, as many men's minds ?ire storetl. with a miscellaneous, unassorted collection of general misinformation, of no possible use to the owner or to any of the rest of mankind, excepting on those rare occasions when misinformation ex? plodes in the band of the holder and shatters him in minuto bits. Even so poor thing as one of these gaudily bound, rattle-te-bang books, however, may have its use. The name of Allah, as the pious Mussulman re menibers, may chance to be inscribed on ; any piece of paper that blows a-down the j wind. So it happened that Miss Lari? mer came into possession of a piece of paper without which a whole story would have gone wrong. It came about through a curious development of mod? ern civilization. Partly also through the economy of modern publishers, which impels them to print on both sides j of the same piece of paper. Inasmuch ns no human being has i time to read all that mav bo written and printed in theso later days on a subject that may be of interest to h or her a new industry has sprung within ten years. People read news pers for other people, sending to th customers such clippings as may b? upon any given topic at so much ] clipping. By employing such an ager the student may be reasonably sure seeing all that ?3 said in a thousa newspapers on the subject that intere him, whereas he could never search those thousand publications if he h forty-eight hours of spare time eve day. So it happened that Miss Latimer, ter she had returned to her city ho and had taken up the particular line study that interested her for the tic sent an order to one of the bure? where such work is done, for all 1 publications that might appear alx the cultivation of orchids. To her presently then came varie clippings about orchids; reports of h ticulturists, alleged witticisms, descr tiens of collections of orchids, philosoj leal essays upon the luxury of milHonai: as exemplified by orchids of fabuk price, and untold varieties of commen for orchids were just then the fashie able craze. And among all these sera came one from a Bloomington pap She wondered, as she sat with this h in her hand, whether it were the pap or the whole world that was upsi down, for on the opposite side of t paper from that where the orchids we she read an account by the local report of a stay of proceedings asked for 1 Lawyer Playfair on behalf of Jo) Cork!ns, recently convicted of burglai the prisoner having assorted, in spite the positive evidence adduced at 1 trial, that he was not John Corkins all, but that he was Daniel Fanning, J D., of New York city. It appeared th the stay of proceedings was sought f as a preliminary to a demand for a ne trial, on which the prisoner promised introduce new testimony. And si ? ui i uer read tnat the court had deni? the *tay and had censured the lawy for bad practice in making such a i quest on such frivolous grounds. Ai she read moreover that the prisoner, st asserting that he was not John Corkit had actually been sentenced to the sta prison to serve for ten years. It was a technical sort of report, ai she could not fully understand it. Tl reporter seemed to assume that the rea er had seen a previous story of the tri?' but she gained a general understandii from the few paragraphs, ?and as si read she wondered what it could i mean. Was it possible that this man Daniel Fanning, whom she-well, who she remembered, was a convict? Over and over again she read the bri story, and wondered as she read wh it could possibly mean. It could not 1 true, she thought, but even as she tri< to think so stories came to her mind i innocent men who had suffered mi taken punishment, and she presently b gan to consider what she could d And the eminently sensible suggestie came to her that she could at least fit out about it. Fortunately it was earl in the day, and she was within a fe minutes in her carriage driving towal her lawyer's office, "Mr. Will wright,** she said on ente ing, "I wish to know at once what th story means," and she handed him th slip. The old lawyer read the story can fully, and said without hesitation, * should say that it means that the judg was entirely right in censuring that lav yer for a very irregular motion," "Oh! bother the judge .and his cer sure,** exclaimed Miss Latimer impa tiently. "What I want to know i whether that is Dr. Daniel Fanning wh has just been sentenced to the stat prison, or whether it is a burglar? happen to know," and here she change color ever so little, "that Dr. Fannin left the city some weks ago." "Well,** said Mr. Willwright. some what quizzically, "even that importan fact is hardly a sufficient* ground for as suming that he has been convicted io burglary under an assumed nama inllli nois." "Now picase dont joke ?about it, said Miss Latimer. "Ls it possible tba such-a terrible mistake should occur?" "Te-cs," replied the lawyer with som reluctance, "it is possible that such ; thing might occur. Courts are hmnai institutions and they <*.> make mistake sometimes. But it is highly improbabl" that it has really occurred.** "Then I wish you would find out al about it at once.** exclaimed Miss L<ati mer. "Can you let mc know to-day?** Mr. Willwright smiled indulgently Miss Latimer was a gool client, for h had charge of all her property and h< could aff oid to humour lier whims. " imagine." he said pleasantly, "that may leam in a week or two.** Miss Larimer's eyes flashed. "Ant leave an innocent man in prison a weel or two I What is the telegraph for Won't yon ask Mr. Playfair all about ii and let me know?" "Certainly I will." said Mr. Will wright, dropping his playfulness wher he saw how earnest his client was, "Shall I use your name in the inquiry?* he a ' i '"Bj no means," said Miss Latimer blushing deeply this time. People sneered at Miss Larimer for betraying her feelings. They said it showed a lack of gmxl breeding. Other ?)eo?le admired lier all the more for it. A few hours later a messenger from Mr. Willwright's office brought her a long telegram from Playfair to Will? wright in which the main facts of the case were recited. It concluded: "My client has insisted on retaining ad? ditional counsel, and on sending again I to New York, bnt in view of the positive ? nature of the identification the clearest possible evidence will bo necessary to upset it.** j This was true enough. Mr. Playfair had had a^ery unpleasant interview with bis client after the trial. Fanning was for a time almost beside himself with ra^e at the mismanagement of his case, but realizing tho gravity of the situa? tion had calmed himself, and instead of antagonizing Playfair hod instructed him to continue the fight, only insisting that another lawyer should also be retained. He could do no more, placed as he was, and was now in a fever of anxiety waiting for evidence that should clear him on a new trial. Playfair's first mo? tion had been ra?a<le for delay, and an appeal had afterward been taken on technical ?rounds. The new evidence came sconer than he expected. When Miss Latimer read Dr. Sandringham^ name she ordered her carrhige again and was shortly in his office. She had known him all her life. That busy man was greatly disquieted by her questions. He remembered Play fair's visit at once, and the possibility that he had by constructive negligence been a party to an innocent man's con? viction for crime was most painful. "(rod bless ray soulT ho exclaimed i:? real distress. "Is it possible that such a mistalic could be made?" "It seems- impossible," replied Miss Latimer, "bat it also seems very macis as though it had been made," and she showed him Playfair5* telegram. Soddenly as- he read the old doctor exclaimed: "Corkins! Why,, that is the name of s man who was- shot this morn? ing by a policeman He- is dying now at Bellevue hospital-" "Dying/" exclaimed Miss Latimer, as excited as heat a coincidence-that wa* to her perfect confirmation- of ali her fears. "Then: come with me at once." And before the doctor cooli collect him? self sufficiently to remonstrate against going out in office hoars he was in her carriage, and they were driving towarri the hospital where he had seen the "in? teresting case" a few hours before. It was the John Corkins they were in search of. He liad heen fally idenci?ed after he had been shot as the individual whose picture was in every rogues' gal? lery in the country,, and as Miss Litimer was led by the physician to the bedside of the man who had just died her heart stood still for a moment. Tho resem? blance was so e-trong that it seemed to her as? if she were looking on the dead face of a man she might have loved. That very night a capable man from Mr. Willwright's office started for Illi? nois with ample evidence, and after a slight delay Fanning was honorably ac? quitted of the grave charge. Not until after he had returned to New York to> settle accounts with Mr. James Friend did he leam all that had been done for him by somebody. Mr. Friend had a bad half hour with him, and after mak? ing restitution to the last dollar found himself on the verge of bankruptcy. Fanning's next business was to call or: Mr. Willwright, as he supposed, to settle accounts with him also. To his amaze? ment that gentleman not only refiled to? be paid, but declared that he had been retained by a friend of Dr. Fanning's whose name he was not at liberty to? divulge. This was intolerable, and he said, with much dignity: "?There are some obligations, sir, that a gentleman cannot rest under. I can? not relieve myself of the debt of grati? tude I owe to your client, but I can re? place the money he has spent, and that I insist upon." And ho signed a blank check and laid it on the lawyer's desk. Mr. Willwright's face lightened. In fact he almost smiled. "I will tell him, and I have no doubt he will appreciate your feelings,"' he said, coolly putting the check in his pocket. But when Fanning saw Dr. Sandring? ham he found that gentleman less scrupu? lous. Miss Latimer had made him also promise that he would never tell Fan? ning who it was that had roused him to> action, but ho had notions of his own, and his promise was made with mental reservations. "If that child supposes that I am going to let two such persons drift away from each other in ignorance,'* he said to himself, "she does not know me as well as I know her." And therefore it was that they did not drift apart. On the contrary they drift? ed closer and closer together until one day, in the fullness of time, Fanning said: "Margaret, yon havo come to bo all in the world to me. Will yon marry me?' "No," she said very gently. "I care too much for you to allow you to give yourself to me from a sense of grati? tude." "You do care for me, then?" he said eagerly. "You love mer' She arose? and for once he saw her eyes flash as they sometimes did. "How dare you"- she began, but then she stopped. She sa w again that he was not, in the ven* least, afraid of her. It was that which had won her so long before. He smiled proudly. "Margaret," he said very quietly, "do you think any? thing on earth would make me tell a lie?" "No," she said. "Then listen. I love you with mf whole heart. Will you marry me?" And she did. TEE END. Guaranteed Cure for I"a Grippe. We Hiiffx>n?.e our adv? rosed druggtM to ye?l y?>u VT Kiujr'? New Diseov-i y foi Consuuip rion. t'???*'is :tmi G?hl?, upon this C"i?iiti?n. If vim are ?fitste?. with' La trippe rta?! will u.-e 'hts: remedy according :<> dim-ti?: ns. giving it .i f.?ir trial, ?nd ext eriencc n?> benefit. 3 ou in:?y return tho bottle and have y.ur money refund, ed Wt H .- ke ?hiV'-ffcr. because of thu won.I. r tiil stieee-s ot' l)r. King's Ne? Discovery .luting la>l season's epidemic. Hare fc^ard of it? caM in wk ?eh v fi i ed Try ir. Trial I ?o?? rle* free ar J F. W. Mehorme's Drug St?re. Large td a? ?fie. ?nd Si. 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