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- t r . ^ " i -v; ;. '' \mm?*k TflF 'TT'\TTn\l 4?fM li1 Q ~*=sr two k jmiturc Manufacturing ton- H B fl B*4 B I I M B B B I ^ ' jB^' B / Mill, another building, Gold Si incffrns, Female Seminury, Five B H B fl I J B I I fll B ~B B fll . -<fl B W B Bill in&' Famous Mineral Springs, "u:^opuiauon^oo.-1.. JLA -LJ X 1 JL \7 11^ J. 1 T I B J k_y# ?5Xo%laJue *" ""?,toyn y\^f ' ? 11 - 1 Frank~~^ake 18 ??.???? ' 1 ?? VOI.. LIV. NO 4. ONION, SOUTH CAROLINA,IRlfiAVy JAK^ARY 22, 1904. Ol.ftft A vkar. i Wm. A. NicI BAN SOLICIT YO [ *' ou^Vums ark as libe i OUR FACILITIES AND RES 1flONAl F& j | EL^ I M/ Copyright, K02, by Charles W. Ilooko lie had nn unconquerable habit of keeping his own nfTnlrs to himself. lie enjoyed remarkably good fortune, Including n uotable Immunity from illness and lnjdnf. In which -connection I may record fact that he never had one of the so colled diseases of childhood. In other respects he was the typical American boy. lie played as much as possible- and studied when his conscience or bis elders compelled him to do so. He had his friendships and hlrchlldlsh loves. He romped gayly in the long summer evenings and committed clever und amusing mischief once In awhile, In Regard to which I think that even the 'recording angel always waited for Donald's confession. and never attempted to know the \ facts In advance of .lt. \, ^ At the age of sixteen he was rendy . v for college, He was then six feet in I: . height and weighed 170 pounds. He resembled both his parents, hut was generally called his mother's boy, for J be ba&'tterjg^ gol^-h^ryaad isr)gt4. ^ ' most plainly Ju -moments of excitement, BMP' and at such times, even during his W ' <ftlldhood.* young Domild would exhibit the solemn, superlicial calm and extreme* precision 'of speech which had always characterized the "deacon" when Jh a high state of nervous tension. If lis. had during his youth such psycm^eltperieuces as are noi uic coui'v. mon ldi of humanity, I was not able to obs#frve tbgm. A few vague hints of no more importance than the sclioolremark which I have quoted have been tlie best evidence ifcfc; %'/- that I could have adduced previous to the month of June in the year 181)0. We were expc^ng him home from * college in a week$}* two when wo were . ' surprised by recwvlng this telegram: Last exam, today. Leave immediately. Xou will aee me tomorrow. We knew that he had intended to stay beyond class day and that the u Nirslty baseball nine, of which he was r. .f' a member, bad tiot closed its season, so irij ' the message pbzzied us and gave rise ' < to considerable anxiety. Ilia mother telegraphed for an explanation, but no answer came. On the morrow, how* v\ ever, came Donald himself, hale and ^ T't/ happy, and handsome beyond the droutns of romance. .When we assailed P him with questions, lie slared at us. "Why, there's no particular reason for my coming," said he. "I merely felt like it; that's all." Then after u pause he added: "I wonder why the dickens 1 did come? I can't think, unless it was be [? ; cause I wanted to see uiy very besi girl." Whereupon he put his arm nerosi bis mother's shoulders and kissed liei a . ' ~ ? ,wl icnaeriy upon mi- iuuhhiu uu.. To nil appearances Dorothy might In Jf , deed have been his "very best girl" 01 perhaps his sister, but surely not hlf ?jf f . mother. She had preserved her youth ; / ' vful locks to n degree that Is beyond th< of the render, so that I slml jfcedBtafo#ItEmpt to Btnte the truth nbout It she was thirty, the Tunbridgt ? - 'IWOplasppoke of her with wonder, an< ?R'.- she looks younger now than she dl< * ' " ' . Donaldson, upon the other hand, ha aged greatly. lie is a worrying mar 1 am nfraid, nnd must always be sc Moreover, he received a peculiar in Jury some yenrs ago, when an old fat tory building which we bought fror the Strobel estate collnpsed while i dozen of our workmen were inspeel log It with n view to ascertaining it " needs. Donaldson was the flrst to pei ceive the peril, nnd it Is snld that b sustained a mass of falling timbers i the posture of Atlas long enoug to permit several of his companions t crawl out to snfety who would othei wlso have been shut In. A maze < tradition has grown up around this li client, but it really, involved nothin lolson & Son. KERS, UR BUSINESS ... O SEE US. V RAL AS ANY CAN GIVE YOU. OUNCES APE UNSURPASSED. , I 1 1_ ehvj a True Record and Explanation of the Seven . Mysteries Nw Associated With His Name In the Public Mind, and of an Eighth, Mid) Is the Key of the Seven iON, JR. ) By HOWARD FIELDING more than ? very renay nnu nrnvc ua< of great physical strength. Though hi C8Cnned broken hones nr nnu cnnnlfl. -- ? "" > ! hurt to which the best of doctors conic 1 give a location or a name, he was neve the same man afterward. He begar to sloop In the shoulders and to movi more slowly, and upon his forty-sec ond birthday his hair was as white at mine. He was morbidly sensitive about th< change in his looks, though he hac come by it so honorably, and 1 bav< seen tears in his eyes when strangeri havo spoken of Dorothy ns his daugh ter. I think that he had always helt too high an idea of youth. It is a com mon fault and was exaggerated in bin by his love of Dorothy, who would no grow old. She seemed to stand stil while he was dragged onward in tin grip of time. This is the natural sor row of women, but one which men ar< rarely called upon to bear. When Donald "came home that Jun< day, his father was busy about som< matter of immediate importance, anc BftJ,11?. nvlked^lawn to the of upon the other side of the street froit the factory. I was witness of a mosl affectionute greeting. Donaldson wai very proud of his sou, as he had everj reason to be, and the boy loved bin 1 heartily. Afterward Donald paid bii j respects to the office staff, especially t< I eld Jim Bunn, our cashier, and hii I crippled assistant, Tim Healy, some ; limes caneu tiny j nn, a youm wuu ou on a very high stool and kept the hand i somest set of books in the state of Nev | Jersey. I I lost sight of Donald for a littli 1 while and subsequently discovered bin in my private office. He was sitting ii my chair, with his head thrown bad : and his clasped hands pressed bnr< i ncross his eyes. I asked bitn what wa | the matter, and he started up and be I gan to walk around the room in a pc culiar, aimless fashion. | "Uncle John," said he at last, "everj i, thing is all right, isn't it? You're no , worried or anxious?" "Anxious?" said I. "Certainly no What should I be anxious about?" "I don't know," said he, with besltf tion. "Perhaps I oughtn't to have agl ed you the question." "Ask me whatever you please, m linv " nn Id I lie resumed his restless wanderin about the room. "I wish I knew what to do," he sol at last. "I feel very uneasy." "In regard to what?" I Inquired. "That's Just the point," he repliei "What is it all about? I don't know.1 lie had a despondent and tormente air, nnd the sight of It carried me bac ? o good many years to the day when bad first seen his father. It was In . | possible to shake my mind free of thi memory. The scene of long ago i r Bertram's eating bouse recurred wit ? startling vividness. . . I was aware of a strange sensatio j that this was something for which 1 had been waiting?a long expected o< . currence. There came to me also a ? indescribable depression of spirit and 1 sense of chill. 1 "Do you mean"? I began. But L begged me hastily not to ask him an: s thing. I( "This is a queer business, Unc John," said he. "I think I'm on tt ,. point of getting myself into all klnc .. of u tangle, and I don't want to do a the very first day I'm home. Pleai tt let me think it over." I. "Speak when you are ready, Donald j, said I. "It was alwayB a habit < .. yours." e We were Interrupted by the advei n of Dorothy, who bad come down fro b the house in a pony phaeton. She woi 0 a sober gray gown, but It had the dal p. ty grace of all her raiment Dorott never takbs any pains to dress elth j. young or old. Her clothes are for Do g othy. They would not suit anybo<: else, and they have nothlhfcjoto wU4 ? years. ^ \ -> . Donald surveyed her With affection f ate admiration. , . " "My Incredible mother!* .hq drawing her close to and looking down Into her flee. Then 1 saw the tears china snddenlj Into his eyes. Be drew a.qhlck, dees breath and stood sharply eredt, so thai he seemed to grow both In breadth and height, while she looked almost like a frightened child In the embrace of hla arm. "Be careful!" she cried, with a gasp and a laugh. "You will break my bones!" _ "Did I hurt you, little mother?" said he. "Well, by the same token, nobody ^ else ever shall." "To what do we owe the honor of this visit?" I asked Dorothy, and she replied that she had come to take my nephew, Carleton Archer, across to the town of Sol way, where oor other factory was situated. Archer was an able, energetic and ambitious young man who had been brought into my service about two years before to be Donaldson's assistant and lighten his burdens. He lived at my bouse and was the leading spirit In all our recreations. He was blessed with unfailing activity of. mind and body. He could both work and play at the same time. Often be baa come to me at midnight with business plans that he had thought out during the evening, an evening devoted to ceaseless gnyety of u the somewhat childish sort In which b he found his chief delight and relaxa; tlon. He was an enthusiast for the 1 gentler forms of athletics, such As wor men may Indulge in, and as a result i of his efforts there were tennis courts a upon our lawn and golf links on the south slope of the hill, i After Dorothy and Carl had ridden away In the phaeton Donald remained b with me until luncheon time, when he 1 and his father and 1 walked up to the 8 house together. The boy was not quite i himself, ns any one could see, and I . was consumed with curiosity to know 1 what lay on his mind, but experience . taught me to Ignore the subject 1 Donald spent the afternoon with his t mother, who returned from Solway, 1 which was only a matter of five miles 3 distant In time for luncheon. In the . evening he disappeared, and I found J t. "Be carefull" the cried. him about 0 o'clock sitting on the ? steps ot the office. I don't know how i- I happened to go down there and should be inclined to include it among y the mysteries of the affair. "Uncle John," said he when I sat 5 down beside him, "you told me that I could ask you whatever I pleased. d Will you tell me whether you are surrounded by thoroughly trustworthy people in your business?" 6 This was a rather startling question, ? and I answered it with another: j "Do you know anything to the conli trary?" I "No," be replied "If I did. I'd tell i- you, of course. I don't know anything, ,8 but 1 feel a lot! Is Mr. Bunn a good p man?" b I replied that old Jim Bunn had been with ine for thirty years and might be n banked upon so long as be lasted, i wlilrh rnuldn't h*? vpi-v Inner, nnnr fel c- low, since his health was so bad. He n then asked mo a similar question in a regard to every other person holding a position of any consequence in the ie company, even Including his own faV' ther, though of course it was not a query in this case, but a naive and boy'c ish expression of confidence. 1 an,e swered soberly for them all that they were good men and true and even enlt tercd Into some explanation of my 16 method of judging men. Donald seemed rather discouraged ?" than cheered. "It must be something else," said he. "You have a feeling that all's not right here," said I. "is that why you m came home so suddenly?" ro "Yes, sir," be replied, and then, with D* hesitation: "Do you believe there's anything queer about me? I've nlcr ways had an impression that you ,r" thought I wasn't quite?quite right I? There have been some stories about # \ * "Both your parorrts," said I, "pos hesscd.a power which I once thought myself competent1 to dctine and ex\ plain, but 1 have ^rown more modest." I '* "Onqe possessed It?" Jhe echoed, with what 1 might cafl* joyful animation. r "Then it's something a person can get > rid of, outgrow? Vou don't always i have to have it?" 1 "I think you lenow more about the i subject than I do," was my answer, ? "and if'you don't nov you will some day." 1 "I'd JJJte to have you tell me about my fatner and mother and the things tharxhey did," said he, "but I mustn't ask you, because I tried to get it out of them long ago, and they didn't want me to know." * I I applauded this view, end so we spoke of other subjects as we walked home together. CHAPT&l VI. XTOTKBT OF THE ^XPECTED ROBBER (CONTINUiJ)). ABOUT 5 o'clock in the following afternoon Donald came to me as I sat alone in my workroom at the office. "Uncle John," said he, "I have decided to make a stnrtllug and terrible fool of myself once and for all and ivrer mltli " * "" ?, i uu, you ii rorglve me, won't you? I wish you'd give me permission to do any Idiotic thinw that comes Into my mind, it's better than getting drunk, ns some fellows at college do, and running around with all kinds of people, but their parents forgive them." I told him that it would indeed be a startling nnd terrible thing which could make hhn any less my boy than he had always been. "Then It's all settled," shtd he, "and here goes!" He strode up to a safe that was In the room, a small 'safe compared to those In the outer office, yet of a new style and very strong. "In that safe," said he, "Here are two packages of money. Thty are in brown paper, with rubber bandi around them. One of them is not |uite so thick os a pack of cards, and tie other is thicker than two packs. Tie larger one Is on top." "The larger one Is on top?" 1 repeated. "How do you know that?* "I know it, uncle," he replied. "That's all I can say." "It is Important In such mpttors as this," said I, "to distinguish between the knowledge that can come from of nature. It is the latter class which Is deepest down in this realm of mystery. Now, I know that there are two such packages as you describe in that safe, but If you know which of them is on top you must have got your information direct, without the interposition of another mind, for only one human being besides yourself ever knew, and he has forgotten. In fact, I'm not sure that 1 could have told you the next instant after I bad put them there. I ilon'l liellev<? thnt inv miml tnnl- nnv | cognizance of the relative position." "Let's Lave a look at tliein," said he eagerly. "If I should be wrong"? He did not finish the sentence, but 1 could see that he felt the invariable Joy of the true psychic in any suggestion or prospect of failure. Meanwhile I was opening the safe. It contained nothing except a few documents of mine and the money. We had intended to use it for some books of the Tunbridge branch, a little Independent railroad which connects our town with the trunk line, but an unexpected and somewhat mysterious opposition had arisen among the executive officers of this insigniticant corporation, and so the headquarters remained at the Junction. In the forthcoming annual meeting this would all be rectified, as we controlled a majority of the stock. I swung open the outer doors and then unlocked the inner ones and my private drawer, in which lay the packages. the larger of them on top. I raised them with my finger sufficiently for Donald to see and then dropped them buck. He nodded many times in a slow and rather solemn fnshion. "Does anybody else know they're there?" he asked. jour miner, saiu i, auuing, wun a smile: "But be didn't know bow tbey lay or even that tbey were in my private drawer. He bad the combination of the safe, but I have all the keys of the drawers and of the inner doors.'!. "The larger package," said Donald in a monotonous tone, as if be were repeating a lesson, "contains $32,000; the smaller contains $8,000. The bills are of many denominations. I don't know why." "The money came from several sources," said I. "It is to be used In payment for part of what is known as the Hackett interest. Mr. Huckett was my partner, who died many years ago. He left a considerable part of bis Interest to an aunt, whose children have since inherited it. It Is her oldest son whom we Are going to buy out. Of course, we can pay him by check, but for certain reasons we wanted to have a good supply of legal tender on hand." "That's Mr. William Hackett, isn't it?" asked Donald. "I remember ceeIng him here last winter when I was at home. He's the man with the red face, red whisker*, red hair?everything red, WE iLE (TO OUR resot rces aro not fab 'on earth, nor <lo we d BUT we are here among tl ample means for all enough to take care o WE COME, backud up by a good r made irreproachable WE ARE here to stay and we s< accommodation consii Interest Paid on Herchants and Plan even nis nectuie, as 1 recall him." "That's the man," said I. "Well, uncle," he returned, "I hope Mr. .Uackctt may get the money, If that's your intention, but there's another uiati after it." 1 perceived that we had got down to the root of the matter. "Another man?" I queried. "There Is a pale, hard featured man, with prominent ears and a brutal look altont the mouth." said the hoy. "lie has lips that are as stiff and li: rd as Iron. His chin has a little ?u? >t -a with a <iuo?-~ J.-..ipie that looks like a atuii nolo. The left side of his mouth is lower than the right, lie is coming here for this money. lie is a! out f? feet 0 inches tall and of medium weight, :i trifle thin perhaps, i can't say bow ohl he is, hut his hair i., grizzled, though I wouldn't wish to speak definitely about that, for I never saw hiin with his hat oil'." "You've seen him;" i exclaimed. Donald smiled at me. and, extending bis hand, ho lapped upon the drawer of the safe. I understood immediately that ho had net seen the individual in the ordinary way of mortal vision. "You think that he is coming lu re for this money'/" said I. "Uncle, I know it," replied Donald. "I know that lie intends to get this money and that he feels perfectly sure about it. and, the wont of it is, that I keep having the Impression of ids getting it unless something v?ry unusual, something quite out of the ojt dinary, happens to prevent. J dotrx Bceni to have any eonfi</ene< in ^ie strength of the safe or in our watchman, and I don't know whether it would do any good to take the money I and put it somewhere else." I "^'lUpt ^Uou }vant us to do?" 1 ask-1 best," ho replied, "would be to have this matter a secret between you and me. Can't we do that, Uncle John? Don't tell my father or mother or anybody. Just let me wander down here every evening and sleep on that couch. Nobody need know, and if nothing happens you won't laugli at me." 1 answered that I could not allow him to take the risk, and I hold to this opinion although he protested that there was no ground for alarm. "This man wouldn't make a luncheon for me, uncle," said he, squaring his broad shoulders. "I'd be positively ashamed to lay a hand upon him in violence. Besides, I'll bring down my 6liotgun if you'd feel any safer." We discussed the matter for n few minutes, with the result that I telephoued to New York for a detective whom I have occasionally consulted, lie Is at the head of one of the best private bureaus and prides himself upon a personal acquaintance with every criruinnl of consequence In the country. That evening after dinner Donald and I went out for a walk, and in a secluded place which had been designated in advance we met Mr. Graves Iteedy, the detective. When the case was unfolded to this astute and experienced man, he confessed that he noted in It some slight flavor of the unusual. "I ain't exactly accustomed to having descriptions come in this way," said he, "but I'll tell you one thing right off the griddle?I know the man. I ain't seen him in some time and thought he was out of business. It was said that he'd gone to Australia, and then I was told that he was dead. But. dead or alive, David Creel, alias Williams, alias Carney, is the man." "You recognize him?" said I. lie spread out his hands as one why dismisses a matter that is all settled. "Perfect," said lie. "There's only one Scotch Davy?that's his nickname. He's a sufe blower, and a good one. He must be sixty years old by this time." "He didn't look it," s^id Donald. "He's a well preserved man," rejoined the detective, "or was the last time I saw him. He's always lived right; never dissipated or had any bad habits. He was a good man in hia way and kind to his family. Did you notice how he was dressed?" "A sort of dark sack suit, as I remember," replied Donald. "Kind of a reddish brown?" "Yes, with a faint red stripe." "You mean whut tlicy call an invisi ble check," said the detective?"strlpei up and down and cross ways?" "Precisely." Reedy rubbed his head, i "That's the suit he was wearing nlm .. V V MM. JL AJXXXVa - u JE XIV IT STAY.) ulous, we haven't the largest bank lo all the business of the country, le good people of the county with reasonable demands, with capital f all your wants. ecord, that began years ago; a record by fair business methods, olicit your patronage, offering every stent with good banking. Time Deposits. iters National Bank. years ugo when 1 saw him last,'' he. "Can't have it yet. Be worn out before this time. By gee! It begins to look as if he was dead." He laughed softly and then became serious. "My advice to you, Mr. Harrington,'* said he, "is just this: Leave the whole business to me. If there's anything In this, we'll nip the man right here. If there isn't anything in it, you don't want a word said. Am I right?" I assented, but ventured to inquire Yriiat ntrp.i he Intended to take. "I'll hung around," said he. "If Scotch Davy l? polug to do this Job, he's been in town to look the ground over. If he was going to do it tonight, he'd come gently walking in from one of the neighboring towns about 10 o'clock or so and lay around behind a fence till it ? *1 ? A - .. .?o unit; 10 operate. Thafa his way on a job like this. I know him. I'll bet a hat that I can go lay down in a place where Davy will fall over me if he's our man. I know hlrp as well as that." "Where would it be?" I inquired witb interest, for I like these men of fine instinctive perception who can foresee the acts of their natural enemies. "There's a path comes up across lots from the railroad station," he replied. "It splits in a field, and one half of it runs up to your otilce, as you while the other goes toj^tb because at. the Junction '~cver go?f Davy. wW* nobody night." distinct probability. It struck me as a thought that L asked *' ?' ?AV Creel". tUere was any c^ncc ^ he re. ..operating" hnmcdlatc ^^ ^ d plied that he 8?w no there." *** "If he knows the stu Qtber x .-touiuhl's as good ns^ ^ BQ thttt if any message comes from me you won't have to stop to dress. Maybe I'll get him on his lirst round. With a fellow like that there's no use of waiting till he actually breaks In. Considering his record, we can send him up anyhow, whether ho does anything or not. The judge'll know that Scotch Davy wasn't out here for the scenery. So you can't tell when you may hear from me." Donald suggested that we might get iuto the office secretly and wait there without a light. It would be handier than going to the house. This waa pronounced too risky by Reedy. We might frighten Mr. Creel away. It would be easy, however, to get into the main factory building and wait la a certain little room in the end nearest the office. We might stay there aa late as would be possible without exciting alarm at the house and then go home. This plan was adopted, and we effected an entrance into the factory building without the knowledge of my wjitcliin.ni. 21 detail tinnn which 11(H>(1* Insisted. Wliile this project was in process of execution the detective secured n private word with me. "This ain't any trance," said he, referring to Donald's disclosure. "If It was, I'd say, 'Nothing doing!' I don't believe In that sort of thing. But your young friend's got some kind of a dead straight tip. He knows what he's talking about. He don't know as much aa he pretends to. Take that business about the suit of clothes as an example. He merely followed my lead. But what he does know for certain is tha% somebody's after that money, and wants to make sure that they don't ge%/ It. And that description is no dreair You can gamble on that." [TO nE CONTINUED.] SwenrInic Spoil* Homo. The horse does not like a nervous, fidgety, fussy or Irritable man. He la too nervous and Irritable himself, saya Country Life In America. "Why Is it," one teamster was heard to ask another, "that Tliin's horses are always cnunt? Phtn foods won ? ?Vo? ? was the reply, "but he's like a wasp n round a horse." i A well known owner of race horses, not at all a sentimental person, recently made an order forbidding his employees to talk in loud tones or to swear In the stable. "1 have never yet seen a good mannered horse," he says, "that was being sworn at all the time. It hurts the feelings of a sensitive horse, i and I'll keep my word good to discharge any man in my employ '"If I catch him swearing within the hearing of any horse in this stable." V" . - * }1,