Crawfordsville Review, Crawfordsville, Montgomery County, 16 May 1857 — Page 1

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Und after watching yitU him, a wee^lft hopes that he would won recover, Ifbtrad ttat h% bttd a settled fever, and as the phy» feftt&n said lie *ould not probably be able to move on under a month, I determined to puahottalone. Sol obtained a good nurse, and having seen that my friend would have everything necessary to his comfort which money euuld procure,, I left him.

As good fortune would have it, I found ii party of six men bound on the very route Lwas going, and I waited one day for the uake of their company. At length we set out, with three pack horses to carry our luggage, and I soon found that I had lost nothing by waiting, for my companions were agreeable and entertaining. They were going on to St. Joseph's, where they had" land already located, and where they had mills upon the river, intending to get out lumber during the remainder of the season, -sit On the third day from Logansport we reached Walton's settlement on the Little

River, having left the Wabash on the morning of that day. It was well on into the evening when we reached the little logbuilt inn of the settlement, and we were glad enough of the shelter—for ere we had fairly got under covcr, the rain commenced to fall in great drops, and thickly too. And more still had I to be thankful for:— My horse began to show a lameness in one of his hind legs, and when I leaped from the saddle I found that his foot pained him much, as I could te 1 by the manner in which he. lifted it from the ground. I ordered the ostler to bathe it with cold water, and then weiit into the house,, where we found a good substantial supper, and comfortable quarters for the night—that is comfortable for that section and that time.

About ten o'clock, just after I had retired, and just as was falling into a grateful drowse, was .startled by the shouts of men, and the barking of dogs, directly under inv window. As the noise continued 1 arose and threw on iny«lothes. and wont down.

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summer of 1832 I was engaged,

with a young maiMutmcd Lyman Kemp, ia locating land lots along the Wabash-, ltilndiana. I had gone oat partly for my health, -and .partly to accommodate one who had ever been a noble friend to toe, and. who bad piirchksed great deal of government land. At Logansport he waa taken sick

"Wliat is it asked of ilie landlord, who stood in the entry-way. "Alt—don't.you know, stranger?" the host" returned. "You've heard ut__l.lu.stuh Karl, perhaps'.'"' i. •.

Who in Lite west at that time had not hoard of him!—the most reckless, daring, and murderous robber that ever cursed a country. 1 told the host I had heard ol him' oft eh.

Wcjl," he resumed, "the infernal villain was here only this afternoon, and murdered and robbed a man just up the river. We've been out after him but he's gin us the slip. We tracked him as far as the upper creek, .and* there became out on the bank, fired at us and killed one of our horses, and then drove into the woods. We set the dogs on, but they lost him." "Aud you've come back bootless," I said. "Yes," the landlord growled. "But," he added, with a knowing shake of the head, "he can't run clear much longer. The country is in arms, and he'll either lca\c these huntins, or be dropped." "What 3ort of a man is he?" I asked ,'iThe very last man in the world you would take for Uus Karl. He's small— not a bit over five feet six with light curly hair, a smooth white face, and not very stout, But, Lord love ye, he's quick as lightning, aud his eye's got fire in it! Ho drosses in all sorts of shapes, but generally like a common hunter. Oho! he's the very devil, I do bclicvti."

After the tub full of whisky and water which .the host had provided was all drank, the crowd began to disperse, and shortly afterwards 1 went up again to bed and this time I slept oh uninterrupted till morij •&£[•* {J1T f" ntng. •. 1 had just eaten my breakfast and had gone out to the front door, when a horseman oame dashing up to the place, himself and animal all covered with iuufi. It had "been raining all night. The first tiling the new comer did-*as4Minquire for me. I answered at once to the name and he then informed me that Lyoian Kemp could not live, and' that he wished to see me as soon as possible! sto" "The doctor-Mya he must die," said' the messenger, "and the poor fellow now otily asks for life long enough to teeCijrbu."

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"Poor Lyman!" I murinuf ed to xn^sfelf. "So young'—sohope fill—with ao many 'friends and, fond relatives ^in liis. far-off home—and taken dowu to die in a strangol laud 1" I told tlie man I would set out' 6n. iqy-Tetvirn '.as"soon'- »s possible.', He ate:'looked sotob:breakfast and tlicn resumed hisJo,urT ney, being hnnnd. far up n^jlm Pottawatomie border. -:.L .ettled up my bill, aud thdn went fbr my* horse but: a* bitter disappointmfcnt aWaited #0/ 'r'.%* \\Ke swollen very.jiadlyt that ha could hardly Stop.uon it.u. Had the road boe'n good, I shouldhavo boen Wiupted to try hirn ~T)utTTtif$W thai in sbjncpJ^,ces* the mud

b6 $^e|)^%'i^^.to iB^orsell

mft.ft horsfc. He could do neither. Hifl. only spare horse.had been shot the night before by the Wabash robber. There was not sf'horse in the place to be obtained &i* any amount of money. I returned to the siabie and lied my horse out,, but he could not even walk with any degree of ease. I could.not use him. I was in despair.

?^Look'e,"

said mine host, as I began to

j9e'spond, "can't yc manage a canoe?" "Yes—ve)*y well," I told hixn "Then that's your best way. The current is strong this morning, and without a stroke of the paddle 'twould.take ye along as fast as a horse could wade through the mud. You shall have one of my canoes for just what it is worth, and ye can sell it at Logansport for as much." 'I

I caught the proposition instantly, for I saw that it was a good one. ^-1 "If ye darenlt shoot the rapids," added the landlord^ "'ye can easily shoulder the canoe, and pack it round. 'Tisn't far."

I found the. boat to be a well-fashioned 'dugout," large enough to bear four men with ease, and I at once paid the owner his price—ten dollars—and then had my luggage brought down. I gave directions about the treatment of my horse and then put off. The current was quite rapid—say four or five miles an hour—but not at all turbulent—and I soon made up my mind that it was far better than riding on horseback. The banks of the river were thickly covered with large trees, and I saw game plenty and more than once I was tempted to fire the contents of my pistols at some of the boldest "varmints but I had no time to waste, so I kept on. Only one thing seemed wanting, and that was a companion but I was destined to find one soon enough.

It was shortly after noon, and I had just eaten my dinuer of bread and cold meat, when 1 came to a place where the river made an abrubt bend to the right, and a little further on I came to an abrupt basin where the current formed a perfect whirlpool I did not notice it until my canoe got into it, and found myself going round instead of going ahead. I plied my wood paddle with all my power, and soon succeeded in shooting out'from the rotary current but in doing so, Iran myself upon the low sandy shore. The ellbrt had faticrucd me not a little, and as I found mylf thus suddenly moored 1 resolved to rest a few minutes.

I had been in this position some ten minutes when I was startled by hearing a footfail close by me, aniT~oiV looking.up I saw a man at that side of my boat, lie was a young looking person, not over two-and-thirty, and seemed to be a hunter.— lie wore a wolf-skin shirt, leggins of red leather, and a cap of bear skin. "Which way ye bound stranger?" lie asked in a pleasing tone. "J")own river, to Logansport," I replied. "That's fortunate. I wish to go there myself," the stranger resumed. "What say you to my taking your second paddle, and keeping you company?" "I should like it," I told him frankly "I've been wanting company."

"So have I," added the hunter. "And I've been wanting some better mode of conveyance than these worn-out legs thrd1 the deep forest." "Comic on," I said, and as I spoke he lqaped into the canoe, and having deposited his rifle in the bows he took one of the paddles, and told me he was ready when I was. So we pushed off, and were soon clear of the whirlpool. ^. 1

For an hour we conversed freely. The stranger told mo his naine was Adams, and. that his father lived in Columbus.. lie was out now on a mere hunting and prospecting expedition with some companions who had gone on to Logansport by horse, and having got separated from them in the night, had lost his horse into the bargainHe said he had a great sum of money about his person, and that was one reason why he disliked to travel in the forest. ?. 'Thus he opened his affairs to me,"" and I was fool enough1 to be equally frank.- I admitted that I had some money, and told him my business and by a most quiet and unpresuming course of remark, he drew from me the fact that I had money enough to purchase forty-full lots.

Finally the conversation lagged, and I began to give my companion a closer -scrutiny. I s4t in the stern of .the-canoe, and he was about midships, and facing me.— He was not a large, man,, nor was he tall. His hair was of alight flaxen hue,' and hung in iong curie about his neck his features were regular 'and handsome, and his complexion very light. But the color of his face was not. what one could call fair. It was a eold,. bloodless color, like pale marble. And for the first time, too, I now particularly at his eyes. They were gray in color and had the brilliancy of glaring ice. Their light was intense, but cold and glittering like a snake's. WhenTJ thought of his age I set ^n},^wn: for npt much over thirty.' #ut

Suddenly a,sharp, pol$ ^uddqj ran thro' i^y fraBic, and-my-heart leaped-with a wild thrilhis 4s sure fate—I knew it—there

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host and asked hlm'if he coul moment? I feared mv emotions would be­

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tray me I loobid carefully over his person again and I knew I was not mistaken. I could look back now and see how cun« nihgly h:6 ha4 led me on to a confession of myjcircumstances^—how he had made me tell.my. affairs,: and reveal the state of my finances^ What a fool I had been! But 'twas too 'late to think of the pasti^I had enough to do to look out for what was evidently to come. v-wi

I at length managed to overcome "all my outward emotions, and then I began to watch my companion more, sharply and closely. My pistols were both handy, and I knew they were in order, for I had examined them both in the forenoon when I thought of firing at some game.

They were in the breast pocxets of my coat, which pockets had been made on purpose for them, and I could reach them at any instant. Another hour passed away, and by that time I had become assured that the robber would make .no attempt upon me until after nightfall. He said that it would be convenient that we were both together, for we could run all night, as one could steer the canoe while the other one slept.'' .i "Aye," I added, with a smile "that is good for me, for every hour is valuable.— I would not miss of meeting my friend for worlds." "Oh—you'll meet him, never fear," said my companion..

Ah—he spoke that with too much meaning. I understood it well. I knew what that sly tone and that strange gleaming of the eye meant. He meant that he would put me on the road to meet poor Kemp in the other world! I wondered only now that I had not detected the robber when first I saw him, for the expression of his face was so heartless, so icy,—and then his eyes had such a wicked look—that the most unpracticed physiognomist could not have failed to detect the villain at once.

During the rest of the afternoon we conversed some, but not so freely as before.— I could 'see that the villain's eyes were not so frankly bent upon me as he spoke, and then lie seemed inclined to avoid my direct glances. These movements on his part were not studied, nor even intentional but they were instructive, as though his very nature led him thus. At length night came on.... We ate our supper, and then smoked our pipes, and finally my companion proposed that I should sleep before he did. At first I thought of objecting, but a few moments reflection told me that I had better behave as though I woro.nu-honest niau so I agreed to his proposition. He took my seat at the stern, and I moved further forward, and having removed the thwart upon which my companion had been sitting, I spread my cloak in the bottom of the canoe, and then having placed Tliy valise for a pillow, I lay down. As soon as possible I drew out one of my pistols, and beneath the covcr of a cough I cocked it. Then I moved my body so that my right arm would be at liberty, and grasping my weapon firmly, with my finger upon the guard, I drew up my mantle, slouched my hat, and then settled down for my watch.

Fortunately for me the moon was up, and though the forest trees threw a shadow upon me, yet the beams fell full upon Karl, and I could see his every movement. We were well into the Wabash, having enteredit about three o'clock. I 'i '•You will call moat midnight," I said drowsily. "Yes," he returned. I "Good night." "Good ni^ht—and pleasant dreams.— I'll have you farther,on your way'than you think ere you wake up again." "Perhaps so," thought I to myself, as I lowered my head and pretended to lower

T, CEAWFOEDSVILLE, MONTGOMERY COTLNTY, .ili\DIAi\TA^

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For hulf an hour my companion steered the canoe very well, and seemed to take but little notice of me but at the end of that time I could see that he became more uneasy. I commenced to snore with a long regularly drawn breath, and on the instant the villain started as starts the hunter when he hears the tread of game in the ---.sti' f. WOOAS. *1.!

But hark! Aha—there was before one. lingering fear in my mind that I might shoot the wrong man but it was gone now. As the fellow stopped the motion of the paddle, I distinctly heard him mutter— "Oho, myidear sheep—you little dreamed that Gus Karl was your companion.— But hell do you a good turn. If your friend is dead you shall follow him, and I take your traps to pay your passage to

heaven!" I think these were the very words. At any rate they were their drift. As he thus spoke he noiselessly-drew in the paddle, aid then rose to his feet. I saw him reach up over his left shoulder, and when he brought back his hand he had a huge bowic knife in it I could see the blade gleam in the pale moonlight^-fend I saw Karl run his ttinmb along ihe edge, .and then feel the point! ,^Iy heart beat 'fearfully,, and my breathing was hard ,.TIt was with the utmost exertion that I: could continue my snoring but 'I manilged to do it without* iitefruptibt.. fouj .wri^Upp'roached,flj^.OhL h^ step would not have awakened a hound—and his long gleaming knife was half raised. I could

hear his breathingplainly. arid could hear the grating of his teeth as lie nerved himself for the stroked ,3:'• 'r.

The villain was by my "side, and he meas^ ured the distance from- his. hand: to my heart with his'eye. In his left hand he held a thick handkerehief all waded up.— That was to stop my mouth with! Every nerve in my body was now strung, and iny. heart stood still as death. Of course my snoring ceased and at that instant the huge knife was raised above my bosom!— Quick as thought I brought my pistol up— the muzzle was within a foot of the robber's heart—he uttered a quick cry—I saw the bright blade quiver in' the moonlight, but it came not upon me. I pulled the trigger, and the last fear was past.

I had thought that the weapon might miss fire, but it did not. There was a sharp report, and as I sprang up and backed, I heard a fierce yell, and at the same moment the robber, fell forward, his head striking my knee as it came down.

Weak and faint I sank back, but a sudden Japping of the canoe brought me to my senses and I went aft and took the paddle. As soon. ag.the boat's head was once more right, I turned my eyes upon the form in the bottom of the canoe, and I saw it quiver—only a spasmodic movement—and then all was still.

All that night I sat there at my watch and steered my little bark. I had my second pistol ready, for I knew not surely that the wretch was dead. He might be waiting to catch me off my guard, and then shoot me. But the night passed slowly and drearly away, and when the morning broke the form had not moved. Then I stepped forward and found that Gustus Karl was dead! He had fallen with his knife true to its aim, for it had struck very near the spot where my heart must have been, and the point was driven so far into the solid wood that I had to work hard to pull it out, and harder still to unclasp the marble fingers that were closed with the dying madness about the handle!

Swiftly flowed the tide, and ere the sun again sank to rest I had reached Logansport. The authorities knew the face of Gustus Karl at once, and when I had told them my story, they poured out a thousand thanks upon my head. A purse was raised, and the offered reward put with it, and tendered to me. I took the simple reward from the generous citizens, while the remainder I directed should be distributed among those who had suffered most from the Wabash robber's depredations

I found Kemp sick and miserable. He was burning with fever, and the doctors had shut him up in a room where a well man must soon have suffocated. "Water! Water! In God's name give me water!" he gasped. "Haven't you had any?" I asked.

He told me no. "I threw open the winclows—sent for a pail of ice-water, and was in the point of administering it when the old doctor came in. He held up his hands in horror, and told me 'twould kill the sick man. But I forced him back, and Kemp drank the grateful beverage. He drank deeply and then sl?pt. The perspiration poured from him like rain, and when he awoke again his skin was moist, and his fever was turned. /,

In eight days from that time he sat in his saddle by my side, and together we started for Little River. At Walton's Settlement I found my horse wholly recovered, and when I offered to pay for his keep! ing the host would take nothing. The story of my adventure on the river had reached there ahead of me, and this was the landlord's gratitude. 'I -iV

JB6TA droll fellow being requested by an old lady to read the newspaper, took it up and began'as follows: "Last night, yesterday morning, .about two o'clock in the afternoon, before breakfast a hungry boy about forty years old bougth a fip custard for a levy and threw it through a brick wall nine feet thick, and jumped over it, and broke his ankle right above his knee, and fell into a dry millpond and drowned. About forty years after on the same day, an old cat had nine, tur-key-goblers the wind blew Yankee Doodle into a frying-pan and knocked the old Dutch church down," and killed a sow and two dead pigs at Boston, where a deaf and dumb man was talking French to his aunt 7

The old lady raised ug both hands alid exclaimed' "Du tell!" .»

THE TKIAL TRIP OF THE NIAGARA.—About six o'clock last evening the United States 8 team frigate Niagara.Capt. Hudson, reach* ed the light-ship, on her return from her trial-trip, and landed Mr. Martin, the Uni. ted States Chief Engineer, and Mr. Jas, Murphy and his assistants. The Niagara left port on Wednesday afternoon, and during her absence her engines have worked well. Mr. Everett, her Chief Engineer, has, wc understand, expressed himself entirely satisfied with her performanceV and Mr. Mar tain will report to the Navy Department that her engines are safe and perfect. The Niagara, we understand stood out to sea again last night -for London, where she will receive her share of the telegraph cable -That the good, ship willgive a good accotuit of herself we feci fully i^ssured^rrJy'* '{Ftibtttie,:-:-0

Buffalo slowly'reading Foundrv."

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THT

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AN UNEXPECTED WITNESS.

A STARTLING SCENE IS COURT. •jfi's t/i o.On my last visit to 3Ii^"sissippl'l.arrived one pleasant autumn evening at the village of Deepwoodsi having come in the stage that day from Moody Creek.., I found: the mn-well filled, and leaded that the circuit

court

was in session there A t. the supper table I found the judge and some half doz-r-en lawyers, besides the county officers and numerous visitors who had come to attend the trials. I had some'business to transact with a merchant of that place, whose name was Landor Wallace, and I made up my mind to call upon him during the evening. I knew where his store was,.and after supper walked down to the place.— The buiding was all fast, however, and I turned my steps towards his dwelling. I knocked at the door, and my summons was answered by a black woman. I asked her if Mr. Wallace was at home. She looked me in the face a few moments, and then burst into tears. "He's to hum, but he's dead,'' .she sobbed, after much effort

I managed to learn from the negroes that Wallace had been murdered three days before, and that his murderer would be tried on the morrow."' Under such circumstances I could not disturb any other of the family, and having learned from the slave tha leading particulars, I returned to the inn. There I learned some further matters touching the murder, but those who understood the subject were busy, and I was forced to wait until the morrow fo* a clear knowledge of the case.. •''.* r«,

Though the murder had been committed so recently, the body having not yet been buried, yet as the court was in session and the accused and witnesses on hand, the trial was to take place immediately.

On the following morning I entered the court room with the crowd, and the first case which came up was that of the murder of Landor Wallace.

The accused was a young man, not over five-and-twenty, named Edward Demartin. He had been employed several years as Wallace's chief clerk, and was one of the most capable youths in the country. I had had some dealings with him, and had learned to love and respect him. lie was lightly built, with a native pride, which, while it gave him firmness and dignity, never made his manner haughty or overbearing. He was an orphan, of French descent, and had been born and reared in New Orleans. As he sat in the prisoner's box I could see him plainly. He was very pale, and seemed to suffer much, yet he did not look like a guilty man. I could not believe he had ever committed a murder. He was: too brave and honorable for that.

At length the trial commenced. The

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witnesses came in and gave their tcstim0- afterwards I was overtaken by Dunk Harny, and my heart sank within me as I found rold and another man, who arrested me for how strongly the tide of circumstances set against him. It was proved that he wished to marry Landor Wallace's niece, a young girl named Isabel Wallace, and that the uncle had objected. From this a quarrel had ensued, and the youth had left Wallace's service. It was proved that Dc= martin had challenged Wallace to fight him a duel, and that the merchant had refused, on the ground that he could not consent to meet one whom he still regarded in the light of son. Then it was proved that the youth was very wroth at this, and that he swore Mr. Wallace "should either fight or suffer the consequences." He was deter, mined to have satisfaction. ,/r

On the morning before the murder the merchant started 011 horseback for Dantonville, and in half an hour afterwards the prisoner mounted his horse and started after him, saying "he would easily overtake Mr. Wallace." And then he added, in the presence of witnesses, who swore to the words, "I can settle our trouble as well on the road to Dantonville as anywhere."— This was at six o'clock in the evening. At nine o'clock a man named Harrold—Dunk Harrold he was called*—'was coming from Dantonville, and in a small plecdw'wood he came upon the body of Landor Wallace, and at the same time he saw Demartin riding away from the spot. The moon was shining brightly, and he recognized the

prisoner very plainly. He found the mer- ed the Judge chant senseless and bleeding freely from several deep wounds, and close by he found a silver handled bowie knife, which had been' proved to be the prisoner's. The knife was covered with blood, and the physicians had decided that the wounds were made with it.! The murdered man had also received a blow upon the head which was nearly sufficient to kill.

This Dunk Harrold was a harddooking customer. He was a stout, broad-should-ered man, somewhere about forty years of

with dark coarse animal features, and looked the perfect villain, In defense it was proved that Harrold had soinC difficul* ty with'the prisoner, and that he,had sworn to liare revenge, but this amounted to but little.o, I'doiu

Surely thecasc'SSertre'd very clear agtfinst the prisoner. He had a difficulty with. th"T niurdered man, challenged\T0m^tor mortal

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"Piofts people scafiiifeKjped'by iding his sign" A dam "good Bell

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^-his ktiifd found all bloody by the murdered man's Sidfc—and his clothcs were bespattered with blbbdv We're not these circumstances exclusive? At all events, so 'they, were generally received.* *. a

At length Edward Demartin wfcs per mitted to tell his story- He arose, and although he was pale aiid wan, j'fct his voice was firm. _Hc first called upon God to witness that lie spoke the truth, and went on. -He said on the afternoon before the mur.der,' hc had spent over two hours with!3Ir. Wallace and that all their difficulty had been settled, and' that the merchant had explained to him thait his only bbjectioii to' theT marriage of Isabel had been the fact that he had prbmiscd her father on his dying bed, that she should not be married until she was twenty years bf age "Wc made our difference all up at that time,'' continued Demartin, "and Mr. Wallace asked me if I would come back into his service. He said if I hitd been willing to have asked ,the reason of his refusal of Isabel's hand lie would have given it, but I was hot and impetuous, and he was a little nettled by it, so he resolved to tell me nothing. He had just asked mi if I would come back into his service, when some one entered the store wild wished to see him. I told him I had planned to go to Dantonville that evening, but would call on him when, I retttfned^He said he had to go to Dantoiiviile too, and bade me call on him in that place, at the time signifying that we could arrange matters there After that I went over by the lake, and when I dame back I learned that Mr. Wallace had been gone half an hour I got my horse ready at once, and when about ready to start I made the remarks which have been sworn to but I made them jokingly,in view of the friendly meeting we were to have, little thinking of what was to occur. I rode off, and at the distance of some ten miles, in the littlti Wbod, I found Mr. Wallace's horse standing by the side of the road. A little further on. I found the merchant weltering in his blood. I leaped from my saddle and knelt down by the side of the body. I tufted his face up and called his name several times.— The flesh was yet warm, but life seemed extinct. I got my hands and clothes thus bespattered with blood, but I thought not of that. Wheti I found that life was gone, and that I could not well handle the body alone, I remounted my horse and started back for help. "It has been urged that if I really sought help I would have ridden on towards Dantonville, where I could found it within half a mile, rather than towards a point where there was no house for over six miles.— But I could not stop to think then My first intent was towards home, and I followed it. I had gone four miles when my horse fell. He was too lame to trot. Soon

the murder. With regard to the knife-—• the knife found was mine, and it had been stolen from me that day."

The youth sat down as he ceased speaking and the Judge shook his head "Any one can invent a story like that," he said, in his charge to the jury, "but no one could have invented the circumstances which bear against the prisoner

In short there seemed to be no hope for the youth. Though people pitied him, yet I could see they shook their heads dubious' ly when he pleaded his mhocdUctf 1

The Judge had summed the evidence all up, making it more strong against the pris» oner than before, if possible and the jUl-y were on the point of rotiringi when a sud* den commotion was perceptible at the door, and in a moment more a young girl, or maiden, rushed into the court-room with hefr long chestnut hair floating wildly In the wind, her bosom heaving deeply, and her eyes fairly burning with intense eager* ncss.

coi^atr—sworn to have•-•revengfe=fell«»di ed to his -feet-am^^erer^ of Joy

|®*Adam Good has a 'bell-wraTOifcinr• ,.£e to Dantanvillesudth^thj*. buthiYfeelings"tfuifeHy WeycUfne Mm,

avowed purpose of settling th£~trotfbTe-»-been seen to flee from the blcedisg body

It was Isabel Wallace. She wfts a form at once voluptuous and queenly. She cast one quick glance of love upon the prisoner, full of iove, eagerness, and hope, and then returning to the judge, she cried:

"Is he tried yet yet, sir?—Is he found guilty?" "Not yet—but he soon will be," answer* overcoming bis astonish-

ment as quickly as possible, for th? benefit of his dignity. r.T "Oh! he's_ipnpcent._ He's..innocent!" the fair girl exclaimed. "He's not the murderer. Ho! officers -seise upon Dunk Harrold, and see that he does-not escape!

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Quick! quick!" Even as the maiden entered the room Jth the slavery propagandists!"^ Harrold had moved nearer to the door, and1.

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upon this startliiglntcifigettaeliai.|Sssdd Isabel cxplainetl whSt had*happencd fehe saiii two,physicians^we^e. her uncle, and that he had revived froin^hi^-tet|i»rgio sleep, and that lie had his sensesfpirfoctly and that he 'widhetl' tb'gr/^ td 'tfiQ'jirfefpcr persons'an account'of the -assault which liad been made upon hfni?^15^ ,The.cQU«5faa. a4i6ur^c4^tfsqn», and then the Jutfgc. liirosdfv aecpaipanied by •three of tlie lawyers and the. foreman of the jui-y went to the .merchant's house.— They fbund the wounded man.very weak, tfnd thc physicians said, he could Hot five long.? As soon as the new comers were arranged about his bed, he related to them as follows":' v"1^ J5

Hc said that on the day he starte&jfor Dantonville, he saw young Demartin athis store,- tod that all the difference betifjpen was there made up, and also that he promised to meet him in DantohVille. He.stirted alone on horseback, haviilg first packed away five thousand dollars which he was to carry with hihi. It was dusk wheft* ho started, and in half an hour it was fairly night, only there was a bright mooxi.— When he reached the little wood, he WBB overtaken by Dunk Harrold. He felt a sudden fear that Harrold ment to rob. him, for he (Harrold) had seen him packing- tbfl money away in his pdcfceV'book. Sit ho made amove -for his pistol, but before-the could teach it Harrold gave him a blow on the head with a short olub, which knocked him from his hofse He remembered well of the villain stabbing him several timet, and knew when be .took the money- frott'lua pocket. He couid remember nothing mora until he came to his senses on the morning of the then present day.

The physicians said that the sufferer bad been in a sort of cataleptic state, induoed by one of the stabs, tnd. partly aidtd bj the blow on the head. vj

His account was taken down word for word, by one of the lawyers and duly wit* nessed while the two physicians swore,,, that the man was in possession of full sdnse and sound mind. With these attested doo* uments, the party returned to thtf cotort room.

The coiift was quickly opened, and ere long the jury returned a verdict of acquit* al for Edward Demartin, and thereupon the joy of the spectators burst forth in shout, which the court tried not to stoparv

Mr. Dunk Harrold was soon put upon trial for the murder, and was duly convict* cd for the crime. When he found that all was known he made a full confession, lie confessed the. deed, and that he did it for the money. He knew that young Dcmar-1 tin was going on the same road, so he con* trived to steal the youth's knife, meaning to fasten the murder upon him and, but for the wonderful interposition of the pow* er, which had held the murdered man for .a witness, the scheme would have succeed* edi

Mr. Wallace lived ufatil noon the next day, and before he died he placed the hand of his lovely niece within the hand of Ed* ward Demartin, and he bade them live together on his bounty. He had no family of his oWH, and to Isaccl he left all his property but it was the understanding that Edward was to tnanagc it for her, and be her companion for life. Though there was a deep sorrow in the loss of so kind and generous an uncle, yet there was joy in the thought that she had a noble and loving husbatld.

TUE COMING ELECTION II* KANSAS, The election in Kansas takes place on the 15th of next month. A Kansas corrco* pondent of the St. Louis Republican write# as follows: ..

The greatest question is, will the Frec« soilers vote. They have sworn that tliey will not. Should they presist, Kansas must necessarily ask for admittance with a constitution admitting slavery, of, at least, not prohibiting it. The census aot. -pro* vides that no one shall vote whose, name does not appear on the corrected, list of voters prepared under its provisions. It is certain that they have refused to be registered thus far, and as they have but ten days to go on it is most probable that the pro*slavery vote, as shown, by the returns, will be vastly in the .majority The truth is, that the policy of the abolition leaders is to let' Kansas- be 1 slave State, without an effort, for the-pufjes© 0# keeping up. agitation., This policy,^dictated at the North, has been adopted ia Kansas. Let Kansas come in as' a slave State, as it undoubtedly must do should' they presist in the course named, and thetowhat a hurrah and fuss they will make about the "extension of slavery." They will say "Wc told you so it was the objeet of tlie Democrat party when they', repealed the Missouri Compromise. Down £11

as these last words were uttefed he made] (j0oi KEASON FOII DISCO^TCNUANC^^-— a rush for the street, but a stout boatman: Tkc editor of a French paper assigns as a in the doorway held him until the sheriff

came up. j_rJBXySU bn-s :o: The fellow struggled hard, but a pftirof iron cuffs were soon, placed upon.his wrists,and -he. was- earned b&ck.. sc "Now," continued the girl, turning to the judge, "will you-send-whom you please to take my unclejs^word& .,dowii?_. tfe is alive/" tiH r-:,--Zi

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At these words Edward Demfcrtih start-

for its discontinuance:^ jsxii

Our journal has had but one .solitarysubscriber, a dealer in groceries, who paidin articles out of the store. For tyro weeks the two editors of the" paper lived exclusively on salt fish and champagne."

OOD SOCIETY.—If you meet with matf that is a man, or a wompn that is. a. woman?? and nothing. human" quirks

v~», 1 hbartlsteto^4iaeiM^jr:itfd: ariaflfegSffrf*

a.^d^jiatr

ja~(jenominatcd "goocfc socfatj^." are1'

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he sank fainting back. As sooft cs the scandalous1 beyond all names for firf-t outburst of astonishment consequential.