Crawfordsville Weekly Journal, Crawfordsville, Montgomery County, 9 March 1894 — Page 6

By A. OONAN DOILE.

Chai'ii:i!

VI—Continued.

Jso mmiing nmi tnc man narrative been, and his manner was so impressive, that we had sat silent and absorbed. Even the professional detectives, blase as they were in every detail of crime, appeared to be keenly interested in the man's story. When he finished we sat for some minutes in a stillness which was only broken by the scratching- of Lestrade's pencil as he gave the finishing1 touches to Ilia shorthand account. "There is only one point on which I Should like a little more information," Sherlock Holmes said at last. "Who was your accomplice who came for the ring1 which I advertised?"

The prisoner winked at my friend jocosely. "I can tell my own secrets," he said, "but I don't get other people into trouble. 1 saw your advertisement, and I thought it might be a plant, or it might be the ring I wanted. My friend volunteered to go and see. I think you'll own he did it smartly." "Not a doubt of that," said Holmes, ^heartily. "Now, gentlemen," the inspector remarked gravely, "the forms of the law must be complied with. On Thursday the prisoner wiH.be brought before the magistrates, ana'your attendance will be required. Until then I will be responsible for him." He rang the bell as he spoke, and Jefferson Hope was led off by a coirple of warders, while my friend and I made our way out of the station and took a cab back to liaker street.

CHAPTER VII. THE CONCLUSION.

We had all been warned to appear ibefore the magistrates upon the Thursday but when the Thursday came there was no occasion for our testimony. A higher Judge had taken the matter in hand, and Jefferson Hope lad been summoned before a tribunal .•where strict justice would be meted out to him. On the very night after ihis capture the aneurism burst, and he was found in the morning stretched upon the floor of the cell, with a placid •smile upon his face, as though he had "been able in his dying moments to Hook back upon a useful life and on rwork well done. "Gregson and Lestrade will be wild about his death," Holmes remarked, as we chatted it over next evening. '"Where will their grand advertisement ibe now?" "I don't see that they had very much !to do with his capture," I answered. "What you do in this world is a matter of no consequence," returned my companion, bitterly. "The question is, what can you make people believe that you have done? Never mind," he continued, more brightly, after a pause, "I would not have missed the investigation for anything. There has been no better case within my recollection. Simple as it was, there were several most instructive points about it." "Simple!" 1 ejaculated. "Well, really, it can hardly be described as otherwise," said Sherlock

Holmes, smiling at my surprise. "The proof of its intrinsic simplicity is that without any help, save a few very ordinary deductions, I was able to lay my hand upon the criminal within three days." "That is true." said I. "1 have already explained to you that what is out of the common is usually a guide rather than a hindrance. In solving a problem of this sort, the grand thing is to be able to reason backward. That is a very useful accomplishment and a very easy one, but people do not practice it much. In the everyday affairs of life it is more useful to reason forward, and so the other comes to be neglected. There are fifty who can reason synthetically for one who can reason analytically." "1 Confess." said 1, "that I do not quite follow you." "I hardly expected that you would. Let me see if 1 can make it clear. Most people, if you describe a train of events to them, will tell you what the result would be. They can put those events together in their minds, and argue from them that something will come to pass. There are few people, however, who. if you told them a result, would be able to evolve from their own inner consciousness what the steps were which led up to that result. This power is what I mean when 1 talk of reasoning backward, or analytically." "1 understand," said I. "Now, this was a case in which you were given the result and had to find everything else for yourself. Now, let me endeavor to show you the different steps in my reasoning. To begin at the beginning: 1 approached the house, as you know, on foot, and with my mind entirely free fi-om all impressions. I naturally began by examining the roadway, and there, as I have already explained to you, I saw clearly the marks of a cab, which. I ascertained by inquir3% must have been there during the night. I satisfied myself that it was a cab and not a private carriage by the narrow gauge of the wheels. The ordinary London growler is considerably less wide than a gentleman's brougham. "This was the first point gained. I then walked slowly down the garden path, which happened to be composed of a clay soil, peculiarly suitable for taking impressions. No doubt it appeared to you to be a mere trampled line of slush, but to my trained eyes every mark upon its surface had a meaning. There is no branch of detective sciencc which is so important and so much neglected as the art of tracing footsteps. Happily, 1 have always laid great stress upon it, and much practice has made it second nature to me. I saw the heavy footmarks of the constables, but I saw also the tracks of the two men who had first passed through the garden.

It was easy to tell that they had been before the others, because in places their marks had been entirely obliter­

ated by the others coming upon the top of them. In this way my second link was formed, which told me that the nocturnal visitors were two in number, one remarkable for his height (as I calculated from the length of his stride) and the other fashionably dressed, to judge from the small and elegant impression left by his boots. "On entering the house this last inference was confirmed. My well-booted mail lay before me. The tall one, then, had done the murder, if yiurder there was. There was no wound upon th* dead man's person, but the agitated expression upon his face assured me that he had foreseen his fate before it came upon him. Men who die from heart disease or any sudden natural cause never by any chance exhibit agitation upon their features. Having sniffed the dead man's lips, I detected a slightly sour smell, and I came to the conclusion that he had had poison forced upon him. Again I argued that it had been forced upon him, from the hatred and fear expressed upon his face. liy the method of exclusion I had arrived at this result, for no other hypothesis would meet the facts. Do not imagine that it was a very unheard-of idea. The forcible administration of poison is by no means anew thing in criminal annals. The cases of Dolsky, in Odessa, and of Leturier, in Montpelier, will occur at once to any toxicologist. "And now came the great question as to the reason why. Robbery had not been the object of the murder, for nothing was taken. Was it politics, then, or was it a woman? That was the question which confronted me. I was inclined from the first to the latter supposition. Political assassins are only too glad to do their work and to fly. This murder had, on the contrary, been done most deliberately, and the perpetrator had left his tracks all over the room, showing that he had been there all the time. It must have been a private wrong, and not a political one, which called for'such a methodical revenge. When the inscription was discovered upon the wall I was more inclined than ever to my opinion. The thing was too evidently a blind. When the ring was found, however, it settled the question. Clearly the murderer had used it to remind his victim of some dead or absent woman. It was at this point that I asked Gregson whether he had inquired in his telegram to Cleveland as to any particular point in Mr. Drabber's former career. He answered, you remember, in the negative. "I then proceeded to make a careful examination of the room, which confirmed me in my opinion as to the murderer's height, and furnished me with the additional detail as to the Trichinopoly cigar and the length of his nails. I had already come to the conclusion, since there were no signs of a struggle, that the blood which covered the floor had burst from the murderer's nose in his excitement. I could perceive that the track of blood coincided with the track of his feet. It is seldom that any man, unless he is very full-blooded, breaks out in this way through emotion, so I hazarded the opinion that the criminal was probably a robust and ruddy-faced man. Events proved that I had judged correctly. "Having left the house, I proceeded to do what Gregson had neglected. I telegraphed to the head of the police at Cleveland, limiting my inquiry to the circumstances connected with the marriage of Enoch Drebber. The answer was conclusive. It told me that

Drebber had already applied for the

A RAGGED YOUNGSTER ASKED IF THERE WAS A CABBY THERE CALLED JEFFERSON HOFE.

protection of the law against an old rival in love, named Jefferson Hope, and that this same Hope was at present in Europe. I knew now that I held the clew to the mystery in my hand, and all that remained was to secure the murderer. "I had already determined in my own mind that the man who had walked into the house with Drebber was none other than the man who had driven the cab. The marks in the road showed me that the hotse had wandered on in a way which would have been impossible had there been anyone in charge of it. Where, then, could the driver be, unless he were inside the house? Again, it is absurd to suppose that any sane man would carry out a deliberate crime under the very eyes, as it were, of a third person, who was sure to betray him. Lastly, supposing one man wished to dog another through London, what better means could he adopt than to turn cabdriver? All these considerations led me to the irresistible conclusion that Jefferson Hope was to be found among the jarveys of the metropolis. "If he had been one there was no reason to believe that he had ceased to be. On the contrary, from his point of view, any sudden change would be likely to draw attention to himself.

He would probably, for a time at least, continue to perform his duties. There was no reason to suppose that he was going under an assumed name. Why should he change his name in a country where no one knew his original one? I therefore organized my streetArab detective corps, and sent them systematically to every cab proprietor in London until they ferreted out the man that I wanted. IIow well they succeeded and how quickly I took_ad­

vantage of it are still fresh in 3'our recollection. The murder of Stangerson was an incident which was entirely unexpected, but which could hardly in any ease have been prevented Through it, as you know, I came into possession of the pills, the existence of which I had already surmised. You see the whole thing is a chain of logical sequences without a break or flaw." "It is wonderful!" I cried. "Voui merits should be publicly recognized. You Srhould publish an account of the case. If you won't, I will for you." "You may do what you like, doctor," he answered. "See here!" he continued, handing a paper over to me "look at this! look at this!"

It was the Echo for the day, and the paragraph to which he pointed was devoted to the case in question. "The public," it said, "have lost a sensational treat through the sudden death of the man Hope, who was suspected of the murder of Mr. Enoch Drebber and of Mr. Joseph Stangerson. The details of the case will probably never be known now, though we are informed upon good authority that the crime was the result of an old-stand-ing and romantic feud, in which love and Mormonism bore a part. It seems that both the victims belonged, in their younger days, to the Latter-Day Saints, and Hope, the deceased prisoner, hails also from Salt Lake "City. If the case has had no other effect,it at least brings out in the most striking manner the efficiency of our detective police force, and will serve as a lesson to all foreigners that they will do wisely to settle their feuds at home and not to carry them on to British soil. It is an open secret that the credit of this smart capture belongs entirely to the well-known Scotland Yard officials, Messrs. Lestrade and Gregson. The man was apprehended, it appears, in the rooms of a certain Mr. Sherlock Holmes, who has himself, as an amateur, shown some talent in the detective line, and who, with such instructors, may hope in time to attain to some degree of their skill. It is expected that a testimonial of some sort will be presented to the two officers as a fitting recognition of their services." "Didn't I tell you so when we started?" cried Sherlock Holmes, with a laugh. "That's the result of all our study in scarlet to get them a testimonial!" "Never mind," I answered "I have all the facts in my journal and the public shall know them. In the meantime you mustfmake yourself contented by the consciousness of success, liUc the Roman miser—

1

'Populus me slbilat, at mihi plaudo Ipse domi simul ao nummos contemplar In area.'" [THE END.]

flOOSIER HAPPENINGS.

Information of Especial Interest to Indianians.

Stole to Pay Funeral Expenses. GREENSBUKG, Ind., March 6.—John P. Howard, of Jennings county, is in jail here under sentence of two years in the penitentiary for embezzling $70 from his employers, Cohen Brothers, of Lawrenceburg, Ind. He will be taken to Jeffersonviile the last of the week to serve his sentence, but owing to the circumstances of the case Judge Ewing and Prosecutor Meyers assured the prisoner that they would do what they could to secure his pardon. Two of Howard's children died of diphtheria, and being without funds he appropriated enough of his employers' money to pay the funeral expenses, intending to make the amount good as fast as he could earn it. He was arrested before he had any opportunity to carry out his intentions.

v. Cupid Hag Fun at Aluncle. MUNCUS, Ind., March 6.—Mrs. William Pash three years ago found a letter in her husband's pocket which waB a message love to a young woman at Red Key, Jay county. Mrs. Pash secured a divorce as a result. Soon afterward Pash marrieu the woman who wrote the love letter. Recently wife No. 2 brought suit for a divorce on identically the same charge as that made by wife No. 1. Wife No. 2 had found a love letter of recent date in her husband's pocket addressed to his first wife. The divorce was granted and Monday William and his first love locked arms and took the train for Bellefontaine, O. There they are to be reunited in the town where they courted over a quarter of a century ago.

Tries to Brain His Wife.

JEFFERSONVILLE, Ind., March 6.— George Carter, who is possessed of an ungovernable temper, made a desperate attempt Monday to brain his wife with a brick and then cut her throat. He also threatened the life of his 18-year-old daughter and other members of his family, but the timely arrival ol the police prevented him. For the past six months Carter and his wife have not occupied the same domicile. Carter appeared in the police court, was heavily fined and sent to jail., in default

1

Trial of White Cappers Continued. COLUMBUS, Ind., March 6.—The case of the State of Tndiana against Mrs. Chris Schnider, Mrs. Annie Vonstrohe and eight others for the whipping oi Mrs. Andre*? Sch.'.-ader was called in the circuit court Monday morning. The state's .ittoi-ney dismissed the count in the indictment charging white capping and the defendants filed affidavits for a continuance, which was granted. Chris Schnider, found guilty as a party in the same case, was denied a new trial.

Postmaster Arrested.

TERRE HAUTE, Ind., March 6.—Postmaster Alfred Miller, of Macksville, was arrested Monday on a charge of embezzlement of $700 of government money. He says the post office vvaa robbed several times, and in the aggregate of $817, which he made good, and that he wasinformed by the post office inspector that he would not be further called to account

THE OLD MILL MYSTERY

By Arthur W. Marchmont, B. A.

Author of Miser Hnadlej's Secret," "Madellnt Tower," Hy Whose Hand," Isa," &c.,

lee.

ICopyrlaht, 1892. hy the Author. 1

I'HOLOGUK.

"But don't you mean the woman must be discharged, doctor?" "Yes that's exactly what I do mean. There's no alternative." "Well, but she's just as mad as when she first came into the asylum," exclaimed the first speaker, Mrs. Iloyle, the matron of the female side of Wadsworth lunatic asylum. "Yes I know that as well as you do," returned Dr. Batley "but here's the order from the commissioners for her release, and we've neither the right to question it nor the power to detain the woman." "But she's not fit to be at large. She's a murderess—nothing more or nothing less," cried the matron, indignantly. "That may be," answered the doctor. dryly, "but the commissioners can't be expected to set up the question of a patient's sanity against a rule of red-tape. Wrliat has happened is this: The certificate on which this woman, Lucy Howell, has been brought in is invalid the new certificate was to have been here, and hasn't come consequently she will have to be set at liberty." "What if she kills the first person she meets?" "So much the worse for the first person and the commissioners," replied the doctor, with a short cynical laugh. "But no blame can be attached to us." "But Dr. Accring declares that hers is a subtle form of mania that is absolutely incurable. She has all the fancies of a murderess, and all the crotchets of a madwoman, hidden away under her gentle ways and soft speech." "Well, we can't help that. She'll have to go, and we may as well tell her at once." "Then there'll be murder done before she comes back, and come back she certainly will," said the matron, as she left the room to fetch the woman of whom the two had been speaking.

She returned in a few minutes bringing with her a tall, handsome woman of about four or five and twenty, whose finely developed figure was rather set off than concealed by the somber dress which she wore.

When the doctor spoke her name she looked at him closely and answered in a low, clear and rather sweet voice:

You want me, sir?" "Yes I sent for you to tell you you are to be discharged from here." "I am glad yo\i see at last that I'm not mad," was the reply, calmly spoken and with a confident smile. "I did not say I saw that," answered the doctor, dryly. "Well, so long as somebody sees it, and I am liberated, I am satisfied. I ought never to have been brought here." "You will now be able to do what you wish to do, Miss Howell," said the matron, interchanging a rapid glance with the doctor.

In an instant a light flashed into the woman's eyes as she looked up and cried, with a touch of eager paesion: "YTes, I'll—" But, catching the expression on the others' faces, she stopped as suddenly, and changed her tone with her look, adding: "YTes, I shall be glad to be at liberty again."

The change in her manner had been startling in its abruptness and in the moment of excitement she had looked dangerous enough to suggest hidden depths of intense passion. "When shall you try and seek out the people who are following you about with knives!" asked the matron again. "That dark, good looking young villain, who was your lover and deceived you. that you told me about?"

But this time the reference to her craze had no rousing effect. She had obtained complete self-mastery and answered quietly: "I am sorry I have made such mistakes. I suppose that, being in a place like this, where everyone has fancies, I frightened myself. But, now I am going away, I shall leave them." "Where are you going?" asked the doctor, disregarding her gesture.

Lucy Howell thought for a moment, hesitating in her reply, and then she said: "Where I came from, sir—Mireley." "What are yoxi?" "A silk weaver," said the woman. "There are no sheds at Mireley," returned the doctor, quickly and suspiciously. "I am not bound to go back to weaving, am I?" was the reply, flashed back in half anger and then in a much milder tone she added: "I shall want a rest, sir, after the life here besides, I have friends at Mireley, and I—they will want me." "Well, you are to go out at two o'clock this afternoon, and the man who brought you here will come for you at that time. You had better be ready." "Thank you, sir," said the woman.

Without looking again at the doctor she turned and left the room, followed by the matron. "She seems sensible enough, Mrs. Hoyle," he said, when the latter returned. "But, sensible or not sensible, she has to go." "Oh, she's as sensible as I am, and a precious sight more cunning. But if murder don't come of this business —well, it'll be a marvel to me."

CHAPTER THE PROPOSAL.

"Miss Ash worth—Mary." A dark, pretty girl, dressed in black, who stood leaning upon agate just inside the mill village of Walkden 'Bridge, started and turned round, and a slight flush showed for a moment on her features, as she heard her name thus spoken. "Mr. Gorringe!" "Did I startle you out of a pleasant reverie?" asked the man. "Butjtis

"too great a pleasure to "find you-alone for me to resist the temptation of speaking to you. Y"ou are not angry?"

The speaker was a thick-set man of some thirty years of age, with large, well-shaped, resolute features that spoke of great force of will and he looked eagerly at the girl out of his keen, clear blue eyes, over which lmng dark, bushy brows. "No, I am not angry, but—" "But what?" he asked, as Mie hesiated.

She was silent a moment, and then, with a slight blush again tinging her cheek, she looked kindly at him and said: "The 'but' was, that I think you had better not call me by my Christian name."

The man laughed a good-natured, hearty, self-satisfied laugh. "Nonsense, Mary, nonsense. Whoever heard of anyone objecting to such a thing hereabouts? I think of you as Mary—aye, and as my Mary, too, my lass, in spite of all you said last time and what's more. I shall never think anything else," he added, very earnestly, as he went closer to her. "You forget, Mr. Gorringe, that you are the manager of the mill, and I am only one of the work people." "Nonsense, stuff and rubbish, Mary. I was a mill hand, too, wasn't I? and not so long ago, either. If I've made a bit of brass, where's the good of it, if I can't, do what I like, aye, and have whom I like to share it. You'd better change your mind, lass, and say you'll marry me." "1 have told you—" she began, when he interrupted her impetuously. "Yes, yes I know you've told me, and more, than once for the matter of that." and he laughed again good naturedly. "And what's more, you'll have to go on telling me scores of times yet. fcefore I shall believe you. You'll have to give way in the long run." "It cannot be, Mr. Gorringe." "Reuben," he interposed "you may as well call me by that name first as la*t." "No," said the gii'l, decidedly. "To me you are Mr. Gorringe, ray employer, and I cannot call you anything else." "Stuff and rubbish. See now what it means. Seven years ago, I was a mill-hand. Five years ago, I had scraped up enough to start the old Winckley shed. Three years ago, I took the management of this old Walkden mill and to-day I'm ready for another move up. I can put my hand on a good bit of brass to-rday, and I'm going to be a rich man, Mary and if you'll marry me, you shall be a rich woman

The girl shook her head at this speech, which jarred on her. "It's not money I care about," she said. "What is it, then? Is it love?" he cried, in a voice suddenly full of passion. "Don't you think that 1 love you? What can I do to persuade you? There are many things I hold dear in this world success, money, reputation, power—but I'd give them all up, without a murmur, if to win you. Mary. I would, I swear I would," lie said, vehemently. "Won't you trust me and be my wife, lass?"

His voice sank almost to a whisper and his eyes and face were alight with his love for the girl "I have told you it cannot be. I am very sorry." she answered.

He stayed a full half-minute without speaking, merely letting his hand rest on her arm, while his eyes were fixed on her face. "Why can't it be, Mary?" he aisked. "Do you doubt me?" "No, no, Mr. Gorringe," she answered, impulsively: "but—but—it is hard for me to have to say this I do not love—"

He interrupted her with a light laugii, and then seizing both her hands in his, he held her close to him and looked earnestly into her eyes. "I 4il not ask you for your love yet, child. I can wait for that. I have plenty for both of us. Give me yourself that is all I .ask now. You trust me, and love shall soon come. I will take you, love or no love, and be only too thankful to have you, my dear." "No, no!" cried the girl, vehemently, struggling to free her hands. "Let me go, please, Mr. Gorringe. You have 110 right to hold me like this."

He let her go instantly. "I am sorry," he said, quite humbly. "I forgot myself. I do forget myself, and everything else, when I am with you, Mary. But you must be my wife. I cannot live without you." Then he started, and paled a little, as a thought plagued him. "It's not—but, no, it ean't be, or I should have seen. It's not that you care for anyone else, is it?" He asked this in a firm, low voice. "What right have you to question me?" said the girl, blushing, partly with indignation, partly with confusion.

The man looked at her keenly, knitting his heavy brows till they frowned ominously. "Do you think I'm a man to bts fooled lightly?" he asked, in a quick, stern tone. Then he changed again, and spoke quietly, without giving the girl time to reply: "There's no need for pretense between us two. You've seen—you must have seen—the hold you have over me. I've made no secret that I love you. You can do with me what you will, for I'm a fool in your hands. But take care, my girl such power as yours over me don't go without responsibility. It's a power that can move me for good or spoil me for life. With such as me there's no middle course and you can do what you will and, by if you fool me now for another man there won't be room for us both on this earth. That I swear," and he clenched his fist and brought it down heavily on the gate in front of them. "I have listened to you too long." said the girl. "When you talk to me about 'fooling you' I see how stupid I have been." "I'm sorry, I am: I ^%vear I am I didn't mean what I said. Ah, Mary, don't turn away like that. I'll go away if you wish jt. But I can't trust

myself wlien 1 "think "01 losing yoii.' Tell me I've no reason to think that."' "I've told you that I can never marry you and I deny you have aright to put such a question to me." "I have the right that love gives me," he burst out vehemently again. "Now, I believe there is somebody. But you shall never marry anyone, if you don't marry me that I swear on my soul," he exclaimed, passionately. "And you know whether I'm a man to keep my. word."

Then, as the girl was turning away, he went quickly to her and seized her arm rather roughly. "Will you swear to me that you care for no one more than for me?" he asked, angrily. "Let me go, Mr. Gorringe how dareyou hold me like that?" she cried, angrily and excitedly, her face flushing with feeling.

He loosed his hold of her and walked, on determinedly by her side. "I mean to have an answer," he said,, doggedly. "You shall have no answer from me," she replied. "Then I'll watch you till I find out," he said, and then they walked on in silence.

Suddenly as they turned a sharp curve in the road the man saw his companion start, and a troubled look came over her face and then he noticed the color rise in her cheeks and deepen as a tall, upstanding, handsome young fellow approached. "Why, Mary, what's the matter?" cried the newcomer, stopping in front of them. "Good evening, Mr. Gorringe," he added, turning for a moment to the latter. "Matter, Tom? Why, nothing, of course," answered the girl. "Good evening. Roylanee," said Reuben Gorringe "there's nothing more the matter than that Miss Ashworth— Mary, that is—and I have been for a walk together, and have had an interesting little talk. That's all." And while he was speaking, and after he had finished, he looked curiously from one to the other. "Indeed," said Tom Roylanee, coolly. "Then, as Mary and I have an appointment it's my turn to go for a walk with her, and to 'have an interesting' little talk and as I had fixed in the other direction for the walk we won't trouble you to turn back," and without saying anything more he took the girl'& hand, tucked it into his arm and walked away with her.

CHAPTER IL

THE SHADOW Or TROUBLE.

"Has the boss been saying anything to worry you, Mary?" asked Tom Roylance, when the two had been some little time alone. He looked black enough when I came up," and the young fellow laughed.

The question was somewhat awkward one for Mary. She did not wish to make mischief between the two men. "Oh, no: only some nonsense or other he has in his head," she answered. "Well, so long as he doesn't think too much about you I don't care. What did he mean by having an interesting talk with you?" "I was waiting for you at the gate where we generally meet when he came up and began to talk about one thing and another." "Do 'you like Reuben Gorringe, Mary?" he asked, turning and looking sharply into her faee. "Like him?" she echoed, laughing, not quite at her ease. "What can it matter what a girl at the looms thinks of the manager of the mill?" "Y'es, that's all very well, if you don't want to answer the question," said Tom Roylanee, with more than a touch of jealous suspicion. "But if you do, I don't and for half-an-inch of yarn I'll tell him what I think. I know too much about Mister Reuben Gorringe. He's a clever eliap, no doubt about that but he's just a baby in some things. He's an ugly customer till he gets his way, though, and no mistake."

Tom Roylanee was a liglithearted, careless, rather thoughtless young fellow, clever enough to have made rapid progress in his work, but, like many another, content to like fortune as it. came, and lacking the strong determination to forego the pleasure of the moment in order to secure success. He was quick and shrewd, a good workman, steady and reliable, and capable, in the face of any great emergency, of showing plenty of free character, lie was a general favorite both in and out of the mill, and Reuben Gorringe himself had taken to him. But he could not help meeting all the bothers of life with a laugh and a jest. He was careless enough to be his own enemy but too straight and true to be an enemy of anyone else.

(To Be Continued.)

California War ltntes Threatened. "Long threatening comes at last," serves to encourage the California tourist that a great reduction in rates will be made if numerous threats are put into execution. For particulars see nearest agent Toledo, St. Louis & Kansas City R. R., "Clover Leaf Route" or address

C. C. JENKINS, Gen'l. Pass. Ag't., Toledo, Ohio. N. B. Daily excursions to Hot Springs, Ark., the "World's Sanitarium." Special one fare excursion, March 13. d&w-tf

Hhenniatlsm Qusckly Cured.

Three days is a very short time in which to cure a bad case of rheumatism but it can be done, if the proper treatment is adopted, as will be seen by the following from James Lambert, of New Brunswick, 111. "I was badly afflicted with rheumatism in the hips and legs, when I bought a bottle of Chambei-lain's Pain Balm. 11 cured me in three days. I am all right to-day. and would insist on every one who is afflicted with that terrible disease to use Chamberlain's Pain Balm and get well at once." 50 cent bottles for sale by Nye & Booe, 111 north Washington street, opposite court house.

FOR artistic work see THE JOURNAL Co., PRINTERS.