Democratic Sentinel, Volume 4, Number 26, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 6 August 1880 — HUNG FOB SUICIDE. [ARTICLE]

HUNG FOB SUICIDE.

Poor Bob Crawley ! He would go to try his fortune in the Australian gold fields, in spite of the remonstrances of his friends and family. It was during the first tide of eager excitement which followed the discovery of the precious metal there, and young Crawley, yielding with hundreds of others to the allpervading gold fever, took leave of his family, and departed. He entertained high hopes of success, and promised a speedy return with his amassed wealth. But his success was indifferent, on arriving at his destination, and even this was not the worst of his trials. Living as he had among the upper circles at home, he had hardly been able to form u correct conception of the rude classes among which ho would be thrown in the mining districts, and of the hardships and deprivations which he would be obliged to endure. It goes hard with a man among the miners, if he has not thrown off all lingering traces of refinement and accustomed himself to the ways and manners of his unpolished associates. So our friend, who could not but retain Some prejudices in favor of a civilized state of society, and found it contrary to bis nature to mingle sociably with the rough community, was soon marked by his companions as not a congenial spirit; and he found himself held in anything but a popular regard. It was, too, Crawley’s misfortune to have fixed his quarters near those of a man for whom, from the first, he felt a strange, unaccountable dislike. This man, Hooker by name, was in partnership witli a companion of even rougher sort , who occupied the singe tent with him and who answered to the euphoneous name of Higgles. Crawley could not determine whether he liked or disliked this latter, nor could ho understand liis character. There seemed to be a sense of honor and something like kindness bidden under his rough exterior-. But his virtues were sadly overgrown with vices, and little of manhood or self-respect was left in his liang-dog air. Hooker enjoyed that popularity which a bold, bad man is apt to have among the miners. He even possessed great influence over them, owing to his native cunning and villainy, being, indeed, their acknowledged leader upon all occasions. Crawley’s dislike for this neighbor of his gradually deepened into distrust and fear. He fancied that the gleam of his dark eyes under their lowering brows portended some especial evil for himself. Ail endeavors to shake off what seemed a foolish notion were in vain ; ho continued to fear and avoid him. Strange as it may appear, he was rendered all the more uneasy upon hearing the rumor which was current of the immense treasure of gold which Hooker had gut together and secreted in his tent." Was it that he already felt the forebodings of a coming doom ? Crawley had several times thought of removing to another neighborhood, in consequence of his present unpleasant situation, and because lie hoped to meet with better success in his quest for gold, .when something took place which hastened this determination. One morning, after a wakeful and restless night, during which lie thought he neard some stealthy movements in the neighborhood of Hooker’s tent, our friend was going forth to his work rather later than usual, when he found the little mining community in evident excitement. Men stood earnestly talking together in small groups, instead of proceeding to their regular occupation; there was much hurrying to and fro; and, strangest of all, whenever he advanced to a group to learn the cause of this confusion, they all moved away in different directions, casting side-long, suspicious glances at him. This was too much. He made a rush at one smallsized man, collared him, and literally shook from him the intelligence that his acquaintance of the black eyes had been robbed of bis riches. Then it was all plain. Hooker, sus pecting Crawley of the theft, had just now been making bis suspicions generally known, which readily took root in the minds of all, as coming from their leader. This belief was strengthened by the fact of the proximity of their tents, while another noteworthy circumstance was the tardy and seemingly reluctant appearance that morning of the suspected culprit. Add to this the unpopularity and even dislike with which the poor fellow was regarded, and it would seem that it must go hard with him under this burden of suspicion. While weighing in his mind the evidence against him, Hooker passed him with such an added look of malignant hatred in his eyes, that he involuntarily turned away, shuddering at their threatening aspect. He got through the day somehow ; but his mind was constantly filled with a kind of horrible fear. Every one seemed to be against him, and he felt that this state of affairs could not be endured. So long as the guilty man remained undiscovered, poor Crawley, even though Hooker could produce no positive evidence of liis guilt, would, in various ways, be harassed and tormented by his foe, with all his comrades on liis side, aud even his life would be in danger. That night lie fixed upon what seemed a most effectual mode of escaping from these annoyances. He determined not only to leave that immediate neighborhood, but to adopt a disguise which should free him from all fear of being discovered and receiving further trouble from his accusers. Accordingly, when it was yet several hours before dawn, he transported what little luggage lie had to a place situated about a mile up the stream, and, leaving his property, he crossed by a ford and hastened to the nearest settlement. Arrived there, he went to a barber’s shop, had his face shaved clean—he hod, for convenience, allowed his beard to grow with great luxuriance—and his hair dyed. Then, purchasing a new suic of clothes throughout, ho took them under his arm and made his way back again. Directing his steps to a part of the stream hidden by a dense growth of bushes, he set about donning liis new outfit. After removing his old clothes and sinking them by means of a stone, he threw to the opposite bank the bundle containing the new ones and what personal property he wore about him, and plunged in himself,

both by way of a morning bath, and in order to gam the other side, the stream being here quite deep, though narrow. In climbing the steep bank, his foot slipped and he received a severe gash in the heel from a sharp flint-stone. Before he could bind up his injured member the ground was stained with a pretty generous sprinkling of Hood. At length, as he issued forth, disguised to his perfect satisfaction, whom should he meet but Hooker! He-could not help feeling some misgivings ; but, putting on a bold face, he passed this dreaded character without any sign of recognition being shown. His baggage was found where it had been left. He put up his tent and sat down to rest before proceeding farther. “ Now,” said he, “I will begin agam os a new-comer in tliis district, under a new name, and under better auspices, I hope. lam well rid of my persecutor, and if I take a little care there will be no danger of my recognition.” He had scarcely finished this hopeful soliloqny, when men were heard approaching without, and he caught the sound of a voice too well known to him. Presently Hooker looked in and, with a malicious grin, invited him to step outside. Crawley complied with seeming indifference, and found Diggles and several others awaiting him. ‘‘ We know wliat you’ve been up to, whoever you are,” growled their leader and spokesman, looking at Crawley’s hands, from which, in lus haste, he had neglected to wash some marks of blood. “We know the whole story. One man robs another, as every one knows, and disappears with the plunder, early some fine morning. Then this man that's been robbed goes off up stream in the direction the first man was supposed to have taken, and he meets man number three coming up out of the bushes, where we find blood-stains and a hat caught in the rushes. We put this aud that together and conclude that there’s been a murder for money, and the body sunk in the river; then we come after this third fellow and find his hands bloody, and we find a watch-chain we’ve seen before, just, hanging down in sight.” Here he clutched at the chain which our bewildered friend had not thought it necessary to conceal, or for some reason had omitted to do so, and would have pulled out the watch, but he shook him off, exclaiming with an assumption of boldness: “Your words are entirely unintelligible to me; I know nothing of this robbery you speak of.” “Now that’s no go,” said Hooker; “you’d better give up my property without any fuss, if you don’t want to be strung up on that tree over there, for a murderer and robber both.” This was terrible to the wretched Crawley. . Was ho to lie hunted down by that demon? Wlnit could he do? He looked around at the dark faces which suri onnded him, to see if lie could gain any hope from them. They all eyed him fiercely with wliat he thought was a bloodthirsty look—no, not all; what was it that made Diggles seem so ill at ease, as though he were playing a forced part, and but half playing it at that. But Crawley had noted before this peculiar manner of Diggles’, and could get no encouragement from it now. He could only disclaim all knowledge of the missing gold, and look on with gloomy forebodings while a diligent search was prosecuted under the direction of Hooker. At the end of that fruitless operation, a rope was produced and he was led, almost fainting with terror. to the tree which had been designated as suitable for his execution, and his fate was sealed by Hooker in these words, who recited them in the manner of a Judge’s sentence, manifesting a cruel delight the while: “You are hereby adjudged guilty of murder in the first degree, as well as of an act of atrocious robbery, and sentenced to be hanged by the neck at the expiration of one-lialf hour. ” The unfortunate victim knew that Hooker, without troubling himself to use his reason on the probabilities of the case, was so enraged by the loss of his gold that he would, in his mad passion, wreak his terrible vengeance upon him to the full, using the charge of murder as an excuse for such extreme measure, which charge would readily insure for him the support of his companions, who were less interested in the robbery than in the disappearance of the firstsuPDosed culprit. The news of these proceedings had spread, and there was now quite a crowd collected around the fatal tree. Some thought that of course the accused would confess the deed and denote the hiding-place of the booty before the half hour should be up; but all were eager, partly, no doubt, merely for the sake of diversion, to see him executed on the more serious charge of morder. From the pitiless determination expressed in the looks of all it seemed likely, indeed, that he would actually be put to death for murdering himself —for suicide, in fact. The thirty minutes of grace were rapidly passing. Crawley’s senses were benumbed and bewildered, so quickly had events followed upon one another, and with such short notice had he been dragged to the tree and sentenced to execution. Ho tried several times to explain matters and to prove his innocence, but in his present agitated condition he could ‘ offer no explanation which they would believe. The time had passed, and, amid impatient cries of, “Up with the murderer,” “String up the villain,” the rope was adjusted, and Hooker, grasping it with a firm hand, called Diggles, who was lurkiug among the crowd, to aid. He advanced slowly with an uncertain, almost-salt ring gait, and with eyes cast on the ground. “Come, man, be lively,” sang out Hooker. “I thought you’d be glad to help me give this rascal his deserts.” It was nbt, however, with much appearance of enjoying his duty that Diggles at last laid hold of the rope, but he seemed to nerve himself to the task, one which we would think him eminently qualified by nature to perform. The rope tightened on the victim’s neck. He was growing black in the face. Was this, then, to be tho ignominious end of Crawley, the one who had but lately left his fair home, with such high hopes of success, such bright promises to tho near and dear whom he left behind ? Ah ! it was hard that he should be thus cut off so young, and by such a eruol death. Wliat protracted anxiety would be caused at. homo when month affer month should pass and no intelligence reach his family of the absent one. Sorrowful enough would it be to conclude that he had died a peaceful death; but how much more auguish would they feel if they knew of the terrible fate which had actually befallen the missing one. While the crime for winch he was to die appears to us ridiculous from its nature, the result seemed iikely to be none the less serious. But was he to die ? No, the hanging was to go no farther, else it had never been mine to record the foregoing incidents, which were communicated to me by my friend, the subject of this sketch. Let us, then, hasten to rescue him from his now somewhat-painful situation, and set him safely on terra Anna again. The hands of Diggles dropped nerveless to his sides. His face was deadly pale; he turned away trembling from the sight of the innocent man suffering before him, and, with a faltering in his gruff tones, lie blurted out a confession of his guilt in having appropriated his partner’s possession, which he declared himself now only too ready to deliver up. He informed his astonished comrades of his opinion that the man now before them was no other than the one whom they had first accused, Poor

Diggles had since his theft been constantly haunted by the face of the wrongly-suspected, whose eyes seemed ever to be before him. And, when he looked into that face and met those eyes, disguised as their owner was, little wonder that he had not been deceived as his companions had been. Let it then be said to bis credit, and let Robert Crawley ever be thankful for it, that his nature was not so totally depraved as to be blunted to all feelings of remorse. To this redeeming quality let Crawley ascribe his timely rescue from the tragic fate of being hung for mietde. Chicago Ledger,