The watchman and southron. (Sumter, S.C.) 1881-1930, March 16, 1898, Image 8

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?ERFANO BILL By CY w"AEMA3f. (Copyright 1S97, by the Author.] "My, tafe those fellows did fight the messenger remarked, as picked np his empty gun and began kick the shell ont. "Hope that was Hu?rfano himself that went over ?bluff." "The devil yon do." 'Say, are yon bleeding inside?" ask the messenger as his companion sank the ground with the air of a tired a. -X reckon so. Can yon set a noss?" ecNo," said the messenger, "but if i've got a horse, for heaven's sake this money and -go, for those res will return, and I'd rather ?d get me without the money than money without me, or, what is ?ore. likely now, both of us and the toa" The dark man put two fingers to his gaye a shrill, wild whistle, and ?' horse-black as night-came np from the gulch behind him. 'Jtfy, but you're a verdant youth," . the dark man as the messenger of him the money, ^cd there was a side of a smile about his black mus "Come, let me help you into the while Tva got strength-be " and he reached to help the to rise. "2 shall never leave you here alone, i be* dead in 20 minutes-30 at the Now don't be a fool," and he to lift the big messenger by his leg, but the effort caused him Blood spurted from his mouth, men, weak from their wounds, in a heap, and then, leaning their elbows, they looked at each the dark man with a cynical, the with a sort of hysterical, The black horse sniffed athis and snorted at the smell of g| y,r CHAPTER V. 553? warden's dark eyed daughter was Hpriting her regular morning ride in the p?wthins. There were no daily papers ? to spread the news of the place, and she f; iad heard nothing of the washout of f the^previous day and of the fight of the ^messenger. Yesterday he had made her p:-to feel- herself the happiest woman in fee world. She had gone to her bed Chappy, but had awakened in a dreadful ?ream and had been unable to .sleep ?from thai hour until morning. Her S?eart was heavy within her breast She half inclined to be angry with her |.rf??rited horse, who was now cantering paway with her toward the fresh green KQls. At the edge of the valley she met Iffiree horsemen riding hard toward the l^fown, Two of the men were wounded ^onevWas bleeding-and she asked what I wra the matter. The men appeared sot P^' want to stop, but when she had ^he?cd, in a confused way, something 5: about the express messenger, she turned and rode by the side of the sheriff until ||ke had told her hurriedly all that had . occurred. He made her understand that they had left the fugitive and his con? federate at the top of the gulch from \ which they had jus temerged and that Brae "thief" was severely wounded j' "He is no thief," she retorted. - ?S*There is some mistaka" I "Yes," said the sheriff, "we made a ; mistake in not shooting him down like ??f & dog at first sight, but he'll never leave those h?ls alive. In an hour the whole v town will be after him." With that-the sheriff drove the spurs kita his horse and galloped away after ; isis companions. Thc dark eyed woman reined her : horse to a stop and stood looking after the deputies. It TTSS some moments be \ fore she could realize the awfulness of ^ what she had heard. "In an hour the ^wbole town will be after him"-she re? peated what the sheriff had said. The guards at the prison, those who could be spared-even her own father-would be upon his trail to kill him. It must I sot be. With a prayer upon her lips the bewildered woman turned her horse and dashed away toward the hills. From the valley the gulch showed plainly, but when she found herself - among the rocks she oecame confused. The heavy growth of ninon and cedar obscured her view, and for nearly an hour she galloped up and down along the foothills unable to find the correct 2] pass. Her horse was white with foam. ?. Her veil had been torn away and her % face was bleeding from many wounds ^ inflicted by the stiff branches of the spreading cedars. At times she actually cried out to God to guide her to her -lover, whom she believed to be inno? cent. At last she found the trail made by the sheriff's posse as they came down the gulch, but a moment later her b cart : 'sank as she heard the rattle of horsemen behind her. Presently she came to the dead deputy and his horse, but thc sight did not appall her. Nothing could stop her now. Even in the presence cf these silent witnesses-the hcrse and rider slain by the messenger-she was able still to believe in his innocence. Such is the capacity of a woman's love. Now a new trouble confronted her. Her h orso refused to pass the dead. In vain she urged, coaxed and whipped him. He would only snort and turn away. Near? er and nearer came the crowd of man hunters behind her. , At last, having | given up all hope of getting her horse beyond the ghastly dead, she leaped to the ground and continued on foot. The horse, having been trained to follow her as a faithful dog follows his master, leaped the corpse of his brother and gal? loped to his mistress. It required but a moment for her to remount, and when she reached the tcp of the narrow can? yon she turned to look behind her. The little gulch was filled with a stream of horsemen, and at the head of the column rode her father, followed by the mount? ed guard from the penitentiary. From the mouth of the gulch a straggling and broken line of horsemen reached down to the stage road, and the stage road was lined with wagons and boys on the burros, while ont of the town and over the valley men and women swarmed like ?D?A. "ItYawful for yon to have to die for me," said the messenger as the two men leaned upon their elbows and looked at each other. His shirt was pasted to his shoulder. His shoe having filled ap, the blood was now oozing out between the lacings. "It is not awful," said the dark man, rubbing the ends of his fingers over the wound in his breast. "It's a useful end? ing of a wasted life. I never dreamed that I should die so nearly satisfied. And such sport! Why, that fight be? tween you and the-and Hu?rfano BilL She turned to faee the posse. as you call him, was the best thing 1 ever saw. And the last wild plunge of the maddened horse. What a climax! I wonder where the soul plunges to at that last leap? Stuff, there is no soul and no place to plunge ta I've always said so. And yet, " he went on, look? ing steadily at his companion, "when I was near fainting a moment ago I thought the end had come, and instead of darkness there was dawn-an awful dawn-the dawn of a new life, and the glare and uncertainty of it frightened me. I can't remember ever having been frightened before. Did you ever see the sky so blue?" he asked, as he leaned against a rock and turned his face to? ward the heavens. "And the hills so green and the air so fresh and cool and sweet?" And again there was silence, and the wounded man appeared to be trying to listen to the lifeblood that was trickling, into his lung and won? dering how long it would take it to fil? ter away. The messenger dozed. The black horse bit off a mouthful of bunch grass, and, holding it still, raised his head and listened. The men sat up and reached for their arms. The sound of the approaching army came from the canyon. "They've been re-enfcrced," said the dark man. "But you're all right-I can sanare you in two minutes-and as I've got to cash in any way it makes no diff?rencie. Look out, there's a woman, ' ' he said excitedly as the warden's daugh? ter emerged from the canyon and gal? loped toward them. "Hello, gal!" said the dark man. "Where is her'she called. "Here, here," cried the messenger from behind the rocks, and a moment later she was bending over him. For a brief moment she suffered him to hold her to his breast, and then, pushing him away, she looked him full in the mee and asked in a tone that almost froze his blood: "Are you guilty or in? nocent? Tell me quickly. ' ' But the mes? senger appeared to be utterly unable to answer or even comprehend her meaning. She stood up and glanced toward the canyon. "He's all right, gah You've made no mistake," said the stranger. "He saved my life, " said the messen? ger, pointing to his companion. "Why don't you thank him?" "How can I?" she asked, turning to the stranger and offering the gloved hand. . "Take this package to Mre. Monaro in tiie white cottage on the river, down by the smelter. She's my wife. You'll find her. And if you'll take the trouble to be kind to her I shall die in your debt and remain so so long as I'm dead. Now take thisgun and protect that boy. They won't fire on you, and I don't care to kill anybody else, now that I'm al? ready overdue in another world. "x She took the gun mechanically and turned to face the posse that was at that moment beginning to swarm from the canyon. ! "Are you mad?" shouted the warden, j "Drop that gun!" cried a sheriff with his left arm in a sling. The messenger, utterly unable to un? derstand what the row was all about, attempted to rise and in his excitement stood on his broken ankle, and the quick pain caused him to fall in a faint. "Look after the boy," said the dark man, and the warden's daughter dropped the ugly weapon and lifted her lover's head from the ground. "Drop that gun !" repeated the sheriff. A cowboy shied a rope at the dark man, but he dodged it. "One minute," said he, opening his shirt and showing his death wound; "you'll have no trouble arresting me. " "Where's the murderer?" shouted an excited citizen. "There's the chief," said the dark man, pointing to the wounded sheriff. The sheriff scowled. "Is the express agent here?" asked the principal speaker, and a fat man with a red face came forward. "This messenger is innocent. I mean to kill the first man who offers to lay a hand on him; after that you must pro? tect him. This letter, which I have taken the liberty to open, explains it alL The sack of gold he left in tho tank you'll find where I cached it in the river opposite the engine. The paper, I suppose, is all there by his side. He was afraid of being robbed and was try? ing to reach the junction when he was assaulted by these idiots, whom he mis? took for robbers, and how well ho fought his own wounds and the dead man down in the gulch will show you. " The messenger, having regained con? sciousness, sat up and looked wildly about. The agent, realizing at a glance what an awful mistake had been made, fell upon the bewildered messenger and wept like a woman. Every passing sec? ond added to the general confusion and excitement Cries of "Hang them, hung theai!" game frequent and fast from the "r?p?dly'lncreasing cr?wa. The warden, who also understood, lifted his daughter, held her in his arms and kissed away the tears that were filtering through her smiles. "I don't believe it," said the sheriff to his companion. "Because you're a chump," said the dark man. "What's it all about?" asked the messenger of the agent. "Where is the murderer?" cried a newcomer, a brother of the dead deputy, and then, catching sight of the messen? ger, he ran straight toward him, hold? ing out a cocked revolver as though it had been a sword with which he in? tended to run him through. When he was within four or five feet of the wounded man, the dark man struck him a fearful blow with a .45. The man went down. The dark man coughed and a great flood of blood gushed from his mouth ; he clutched at his throat and fell forward upon his face. When they turned him over, he was dead. "My poor dead friend," the messen ' ger almost moaned, dragging himself to* ward the prostrate form, "and I don't even know his name." "I do," said Sheriff Shores, who had just arrived upon the scene and pushed himself through the crowd. "It's Huer? I fano Bill, the bandit." TEH END. * t A RUSE BOTH WAYS. Hov am Actress and Doctor Were Tooling Each Other. In French theaters the doctor of the theater has a seat given him for every performance. He must be there every evening. Naturally, after he has seen the same piece a score of times he longs to be elsewhere and prefers to give his seat to some of his friends. M. Ernest Blum says that when he was a young man a friend, the doctor of the Theat^ Porte St. Mart?n, gave him his seat. Just as he was becoming interested in the first act the stage manager rushed up-the heroine had a nervous attack and required medical aid ! Blum had nothing else to do but to follow him. In the lady's dressing room he found? the manager with anguish depicted on every feature and the lady wringing her hands and shrieking. "Now, doctor, quick! What's tobe done?" Blum grew as red as a lobster, and as he could not say anything he just ejaculated: "Hm! Let us see! Let us soo " He took the lady's hand in a wild at? tempt to feel her pulse. She shrieked more than ever and writhed like a snake. "Have you poured any water on her head?" he asked. "Yes." "And no effect?" "None." "Then don't pour any more." After tfts display of .medical knowl? edge he continued : "Give her a sniff of eau de cologne. " "Haven't any," was the answer. "Then go fetch some. " Off rushed the manager and the stage manager, and Blum was left with his patient. Suddenly she opened her eyes aud smiled. "Doctor," she said, "you are a good fellow, aren't you?" "Yes, ma'inselle." "You must be, doctor. Now listen. There is nothing the matter with me. You would have found that out soon. I want a couple of days off. Can't you manage it?" "Delighted!" he replied joyfully. "Now, ma'mselle, you're a good fel? low toa I am not a doctor. I came in on the doctor's ticket, so you must not give him away. V i By this time the manager and stage manager came back, each with a bottle of eau de cologne. He told them that it was unnecessary now. The lady was quite composed and could appear with? out any danger. But she must have a few days' rest. They made wry faces, but granted the holiday.-Philadelphia Times._ THE DISH'S COLOR. Able Ia a Marvelous Degree to Adapt Itself to Its Surroundings. It is a familiar fact that fishes can change their colors at will. Many fishes make remarkable changes. Free swim? ming fishes most commonly preserve their normal colors, though these fishes can change. The fishes that change most are the bottom feeders. For their own protection from other fishes that would ! prey upon them and the better to enable them themselves to capture food these change their colors to match the bottom they are on so as to make themselves invisible. They do this often to a degree that seems extraordinary. In one of the smaller salt water tanks at the New York aquarium there are a number of small flatfish. The bottom of the tank is covered with coarse gravel. The great bulk of the gravel is com? posed of pebbles of a brownish white, a sort of pale iron rust color. Scattered in this aro pebbles cf a deeper tinge, with now and then one of a brownish gray or brown black. The flatfish lying on the gravel at the bottom of this tank imitate its colors in their own backs in' a manner tbat ia marvelous. They are of a mottled brown, like the colors of the gravel, and the smallest of the flatfish is the most wonderful. They are all thin and lie close to the bottom. The edge cf ?13 lit? tle one blends with it, and its back is a wonderful mosaic of browns so like the gravel of the surrounding bottom that it appears to bo a part of it. Even in this clear water at a little distance the fish is scarcely distinguishable.-Nev; York Sun. No Negro In South Africa. The word "negro" is not heard in South Africa excepting as a term of op? probrium. Over and over again have Afrikander Englishmen stoped mo when speaking of Zulus, Basutos, Mata bele and so on as negroes. "You in America only know the blacks who come over as slaves. Our blacks are not to be confused with the material found on the Guinea coast."-"White Man's Africa," by Poultney Bigelow. DANGrE? IN A SHAKE. A LEARNED DISQUISITION ON CIS EASE TRANSFER. Microbe* of Every Kind Find Lodgment In tho Skin-Contact Eveu of the Clean? ly May Spread Contagion-Serious Re? sults From Hand Clasping. Ia it possible for one man to commu? nicate disease to another by the shaking of hands? If this question be true, should the custom be abandoned or should it be modified under medical instruction so as to minimize the danger? The existence of micro-organism? inimical to life and health has been es? tablished beyond dispute. Dr. Breiter founds his thesis, recently printed in The Medical Becord, on this hypothe? sis. But his leading point, insisted up? on with much force, is the danger which is hidden in the apparently harmless and sometimes pleasing custom of shak? ing hands. He says : "That the surface of the human body is a very hotbed for the propagation of a great variety of micro-organisms Fuerbinger, Mittman, Bizzozero. Ma giora and Welch have elucidated most conclusively. It is certainly beyond the shadow of a doubt that in the presence of a predisposing factor and sometimes even without that the microbio diseases are ushered into existence by their indi? vidual prototypes, this being essentially brought about by contact in some way of the two contingent forces. Modern surgery is founded on this principle. The carefulness with which we prepare our hands and surgical instruments be? fore and after a surgical operation well exemplifies the importance of a famil? iarity with its dangers in every sense. "We recognize that many of our mi? crobio diseases, especially of the exan thematic type, eliminate their toxic ele? ment very largely through the medium of the skin, which undergoes extensive exfoliation, disseminating the poison far and wide. Isolation is resorted to and enforced most rigorously, thereby check? ing the spread of the disease, and then disinfectants lavishly used cause the de? struction of the offending armies. In the era of scientific prophylaxis conse? quent upon the introduction of the mi? croscope, bacteriology and antiseptics we find a steady decline of epidemics either developing in the outer world or in our hospital wards. Yet accidental inoculations of tuberculosis, smallpox and vaccinia, as well as more horrible diseases, still exist and are but demon? strations of either an unavoidable cause or a faulty observance of established data." Dr. Breiter gives a thorough discus? sion as to what may be the result of con? tact of the hands. He deck res that with men who are of cleanly habits, but who have acquired disease and such as they would wish to hide from their fellow men, the specific bacillus of this disease ! has been found in filth collected from the hand. He has found tubercle bacilli i in the dirt taken from the hand cf the man suffering from tuberculosis, the Klebs-Loefiier microbe among cases of ! suspected diphtheria and had no doubt that the specific germs of every microbio disease may and would be found in mil? lions on the surfaces of the hands if proper experimentation were made. He proceeds as follows: "Many victims of scarlet fever, both in the early and desquamative stages, especially the latter, are walking the streets of every large city ready to in? graft upon the moist hand of any chance acquaintance the prolific virus of the disease. The same may be said of per? sons with pulmonary tuberculosis, whose hands and handkerchiefs, through constant wiping of the mouth, are foul and saturated with the bacteria laden expectoration of the disease. Tubercu? losis of the hand, the lesion large or small in area, often painless and un? recognized as such for a long while and perhaps untreated, is by no means an infrequent occurrence: Scabies, we know, has a marked predilection for the hand. Need I mention others? Now whether these conditions are the result of hand to hand contact or not does not matter. The conditions themselves are dangerous elements, and it is the con? sideration of such factors in the causa? tion of disease that we are studying. "Of course the mucous membrane serves as a better pabulum for the inva? sion and development of micro organ? isms, .but the skin is not absolutely neg? ative in that respect, and if it were it would mako little difference, as the two, skin and mucous membrane, are very often in close apposition with each other. We know that the hand has car? ried bacteria to the mouth, disseminat? ing contagion in that way. Typhoid fe? ver, Asiatic cholera, diphtheria and oth? er diseases aro known to have been pro? duced that way. Why search through medical libraries for similar and per? haps more conclusive evidence? The subject has passed the stage of novelty. So while we professional people are by reason of our profession forced to invite and then to battle-for wo have antisep? tics-with these enemies, there is no reason why we should unnecessarily and under the cloak of custom invite them and then leave them to do their harm. "Some may look upon this subject with derision. Nevertheless tbe truth ia this: No matter how small the percent? age of evil consequences arising from this universal handshaking, the total number, in view of its extensiveness, must necessarily bo great. Thc subject is deserviug of serious consideration. Conscientious physicians and surgeons will accord it. " Miles of Hair. j Few women consider that they carry ! some 40 or 50 miles of hair on their ! head. The fair haired may even have to ? dress 70 miles of threads of gold every i morning. . The accuracy of some parts of tho lo I comotive is ten times finer than in the watch, but for absolute measurement the accuraoy in the watch is almost three times as fine as in the locomotive. FEATHERY. You've heard of the girl in the Gainsborough hat, With its plumos of snowy white ? Now, I know a blond maiden more artless than that, With feathers as block as night, A plume laden li?t with an upturned rim ? And a red rose, like her cheek. The tall pompons nod, and tho velvety rim Shades a face Madonna meek. Is it true that "a kiss is fer better than that?" Fm dumb as I win her smile. The feathers are beckoning, while pitapat My heart keeps throbbing the while. Ten tips gently nodding, and each ono a-curl I vow I am dizzy with bliss! 'Tis an audacious hat: she's a mute, modes? girl Shall I woo with words or a kiss? Now, the lass in the Gainsborough hat who was kissed By the poet in the song Simply looked KO coquettish he could r.ot resist. But this lassie might think it wrong. Still, I'll follow his method of courting and try To* steal a draft from lier lips. She is timid and chaste and alarmingly shy The girl with bold ostrich tips. The chapeau, * heavy, almost hides her eyes Of fond, forgfc. anot blue. Oh, will she be angry or show sad surprise When I dare begin to woo? Heigho! something soft swept my cheek, I de? clare And my yet innocent lipsl But if it were kisses I'm-quite unaware; I'll swear 'twas only the tips! -New Orleans Times-Democrat. THE SERVANT QUESTION. How Much Worry and Vexation May Be Saved the Mistress. "Much of the cry against the tyranny and impudence of servants comes from those who exercise their authority in a disagreeable way and who do not know the first principles of successful man? agement," argues Jane Lowry Cum? mings in a thoughtful paper on "Man? aging the Servants, " in The Woman's Home Companion. "Every woman has her own theory of how the housework should bo done, but it is not always necessary to insist trpon having it done in her way provid? ed it is done satisfactorily in another way. Bridget may come well recom? mended and be discharged at the end of a week or a riionth because her method is not what her mistress considers the proper one. Wherever she goes she is likely to be confronted with new meth? ods and blamed for doing her work aft? er a system which she has laboriously acquired at her last situation. She is a m?chine upon which each succeeding mistress imposes her own pet theories, to the exclusion of all others. Without reference to results she.is compelled to change her method of handling the broom, building fires, attending to the bedchambers, etc., and because sh? is awkward at doing things in a new way she is probably upbraided and told that she does not know her business. If Bridget is quick tempered, she may re? sent this injustice, and then she is dis? charged without a 'character, ' and her late mistress has another opportunity of confiding to her friends her troubles over the everlasting 'servant girl prob? lem.' "But Bridget is the one to be pitied. She is confronted by the more difficult problem of how to conform to the rules and whims of every new mistress under whose orders she may find herself. She knows how to do her work if let alone, and she proves this if she is fortunate enough to be employed by a housekeeper who is broad minded and tactful enough to give her a fair chance. The woman who does not interfere unnecessarily with the work of her servants-who judges their work by results, who speaks to them gently and treats them with consideration-seldom has trouble in getting faithful servants and keeping them. The display of a little tact, a lit? tle judgment, a little kindness, will of? ten save the housekeeper much-useless worry and vexation of spirit" A Cord of Wood. Pew persons comprehend the produc? tive capacity of a cord of wood: Chem? ical experiments are occasionally de? veloping new uses for wood in matters remote from its ordinary adaptability, and the feature that is exciting a great deal of interest just now is the trans? formation of wood products into liquids. Although under the strongest kind of pressure wood yields scarcely any mois? ture, by means of heat wood will evolve gases and liquids of marked potency and j utility. In converting wood into char- j coal gases and smoke arise which can be j condensed into pyroligneous acid. It is j estimated that there is fully 65 per cent of this acid in a given quantity of wood, j and from it are extracted wood alcohol, acetate of lime and wood tars. The al? cohol thus obtained jis said to be a very satisfactory substitute for grain alcohol for mechanical and manufacturing pur? poses, and it can be produced at less than one-third of the cost of the grain alcohol. Investigations conducted with prac? tical objects in view have disclosed these interesting facts : A cord of wood which weighs 4,000 pounds will yield about 2,050 pounds of pyroligneous acid and 700 pounds of charcoal; the acid will produce about 9 gallons of 82 per cent crudo wood alcohol, about 25 gal? lons of tar and folly 200 pounds of ace? tate of lime. These facts indicate a fu? ture for woof1 outside of the realm of Kasy. "What are Wadkin's ideas of true economy? Ho says that they have made him rich. " "He never pays his debts."-Detroit Free Press. The oldest specimen of pure glass bearing a date is the head of a lion in a collection at the British museum. It bears the name of an Egyptian king oj the eleventh dynasty. A writer in The Medical Review maintains that coffee is responsible for the large number of blind men one sees in the streets of Maroccan cities. The Moorish merchants drink coffee all day long, and it has been noticed that many of them lose their eyesight between 45 and 50. The American cents of 1787 bore the motto "Mind your business." Caveats, and Trade-Marks obtained and all Pat? ent businesscondncteufor MODERATE FEES. OUR OFFICE IS OPPOSITE U . s. PATENT OFFICE and we can secure patent ia Jess time thoa those remote from Washing-ton. Send model, drawing or photo., with descrip? tion. We advise, if patenr.able or not, free of charge. Our fee not due till patent is secured. A PAMPHLET, ** How to Obtain Patents," with? cost of same in the U. S. ?md foreign countries * sent free. Address, ~ * C.A.SNOW&CO. OPP. PATENT OFFICE, WASHINGTON, O. C. fi.R Io effect Januarv I5tb. 1896. TRAINS GOING NORTE. Leave Wilsons Mill? " Jordon, " Davi;, 11 Sammerton, " Millard, " Silver, ?. Packaville, " Tindal, 11 W. & S. June., Ar. Sumter, No. 72.? 19 10 a m 9 35 a D 3 45 a m IO 10 a m 10 46 a ra 11 10 a xa 11 30 p m 11 55 p IQ 12 27 p m 12 30 p ra TRAINS GOIFG SOUTH. No. 73.? Le*ve Sumter, ? 2 30 p m " W.&S.Jnnc. 2 33pm " Tindal. 2 50 p nt V Packsv'ille.. ? 10 p m " Silver, 3 35 p m " Millard, 3 45 p m " Summerton, 4 40 p m *. Davie, 5 20 p m ' Jordon, 5 50 p m Ar, ; Wilson Mill, 6 30 p m Trains between Millard and St.. Pani leave Millard 10 15 a m aod 3 45 p m., arriving St. Paul 10 25 a ra and 3 55 p m. Returning leave St. Paul 10 35 a m aod 4 20 pm, and arrive Millard 10 45 a ra and 4 20 p m. Dai? ly except Sunday. ?Daily except Sunday THJMAS WILSON Predsien' Atlantic Coast Line. WILMINGTON , COLUMBIA AND A?G?8 TA RAILROAD. CONDENSED SCHEDULE. TRAINS GOING SOUTH. Dated Dec. 20, 1897. Leave Wilmington Les fe Marion Arrive Florene* Leave Florene? Arrive Sumter Leavo Sumter Arrive. Columbia No.55. P.M. .4 00 8 43 7 25 P.M. .8 00 910 P.M. 9 13| 1030 No.35. A.M. .3 25 4 29 No.52. A.M. .9 37 10 55 No. 52 ran s through from Charleston via Ceo tra 1 R. R., leaving Charleston 7 a. m.. Lanes S 28 a. m., Manning 9 05 a. m. TRAINS GOING NORTH. Leave Colombia Arrive Sumter Leave Sumter Arrive Florenet Leave Florene? Leave Marion Arrive WHmincton .Daily. J?an j except Sunday. No. 58 rans through to Charleston, 8. C., na Centra! K. R., driving Maocing 6 58 p. m., Lnoea 7 36 p m., Charleston 9 15 p. m. Traine on Conway Branch laave Chad bourn ll 43 a. m., arrive at Conwa> wav 2 0 p. m., returning leave Conway at 2 45 p. m., ?f -?ve Cbadbourn 6 15 p. ur leave Cbadnoorn V.-?5 p. m., arrive at Hub at 6 25 p. m., returning leave Hub 8 30 a. m. arrive at Cba'dboura 9.15 a. m. Daily ex? cept Sunday fDailv except Scuday. J. ri. KBNLY, Gen'1 Manager. T. M. BMRRSON. Traffic Manager. H. M. EMERSON, Gen'l Pass, Agent. Atlantic Coast Line. MANCHESTER AND AUGUSTA R. R. Condeneed schedule-In effect Jan ?7, 1897. TRAINS GOING SOUTH. Lv Dnrliogton, Lv Elliott, Ar Sumter, Lv Sumter, Ar Creaton, Creston, Ar Pregnall9, Ar Oranget>nr?, Ar Denmark, No. *35 No. f57 a. m. a. m. 7 55 8 4C 9 25 4 29 5 17 5 40 6 12 5 4f? 9 Ii> TRAINS GOING NORTH. No. |56 No ?32 ? tn. pm. LT Denmark, 4 25 Lv ?rangebur?. 5 03 Dr Pregoalls, 10 CO Ar Creston, 3 50 Lv Creaton, 5 30 Ar Sumter, 6 25 Lv Sumter, 6 40 Ar Elliott, 7 25 Ar Darlington, 8 15 p. m. p. m *Daily, fDaUy except Sunday. Trains 32 and 35 carry through Pullman Palace Bnffet Sleeping Cars between New York and Macon via Augusta T. M. Emerson, H. M. Emerson, Traffic Manacer, Gen. Aes. Agt v ?J. R. Kenley, Gen'l Manager.