Democratic Sentinel, Volume 21, Number 29, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 16 July 1897 — Page 2

gljegfmotroticSftitiiicl J. W. McKWES, Publl.her. RENSSELAER, - - - INDIANA.

FIND A LAKE OF OIL.

WONDERFUL DISCOVERY BY ALASKAN PROSPECTORS. Teets Prove the Fluid to Be of High Grade Coal, Too, of High Grade, Enough to Supply the World, Is in Close Proximity. a Fed by Many Springs. What is said to be the greatest discov cry ever made is reported from Alaska. Some <old prospectors several months ago inn across what seemed to be a lake of oil. The lake was fed by innumerable springs and the surrounding mountains were full of coal. They brought samples to Seattle and tests proved Jjt to be of as high grade as any ever taken out of Pennsylvania wells. A company was formed and experts sent up. They have returned on the steamer Topeka and their report has more than borne out first reports. It is said there is enough oil and coal in the discovery to supply the world. It is close to the ocean, in fact the experts say that the oil oozes out into the salt water. It is said that the Standard Oil Company has already made an offer for the properly. ’fhe owners have filed on S.tHHi acres and are naturally very much excited over their prospects for fortune. .

CREEDE ENDS HIS LIFE. Milionaire Prospector and Mineowner Commits Suicile. Nicholas C. Creede, the millionaire mine owner, after whom the town of Creede, Colo., is named, committed suicide with morphine at his home in Los Angeles, Cal., because his wife, from whom he had separated, insisted upon renewing their marriage iclations. On .lan. 4 last Creede and his wife separated ami agreed to dissolve at once, as far as possible without legal process. their marital bonds. Airs. Creede accepted .<2<»Jhmi . ash and surrendered ail further claims upon her husband, at the same time voluntarily withdrawing from his premises. It was understood, after the necessary time had elapsed, Creede would institute legal proceedings and begin suit for absolute divorce. At that time it appeared that both busband and wife were well satisfied that they were not required to maintain intimate relations, ami while Mrs. Creede considered that the amount of cash settled upon her was insignificant as compared with her husband's wealth, she left him and took up her home in Alabama. About three weeks ago Mrs. Creede returned to Los Augeh-S and proposed to her husband a reconciliation. This was much to Creede's distaste, and he endeavored to avoid his wife, but being unsue•essful. he determined to end his life. He took a large dose of morphine and went into the garden to die. He was discovered by a servant and medical aid was ■summoned, but he died two hours later.

PANIC IN A CHURCH. Terrific Thunder-Storm Nearly Causes a Dangerous Staiuncde. A large congregation in the Methodist Church at Elmer. N. J., was panic-strick-en by a terrific thunderstorm which passid over the village. Bishops McCabe and Foss, who were conducting the servir-. averted the danger of a stampede from the building by starting a hymn. The church was crowded to the doors when the storm struck it. Lightning flashed continuously. A tree in the parsonage yard adjoining the church was struck and a big dog owned by the pastor, Rev. Alfred Waggs, was stunned. 'This incident, which was witnessed through the windows by many people in the church, was responsible for the fears of the congregation. The < oolness of the bishops was all that averted a dangerous rush for the doors. Athletes of the Diamon 1. Following is the standing of the clubs of the National Baseball League: W. L. W. L. Boston 4(5 18 Philadelphia. 32 37 Cincinnati ..42 20 Brooklyn ....30 3(5 Baltimore .. .42 21 Chicago 21) 38 New York.. .38 24 Louisville .. .2(5 37 Cleveland ...35 30 Washington. 24 39 Pittsburg .. .30 34 St. Louis.. . .13 53 The showing of the members of the Western League is summarized below: W. L. W. L. St. Paul 50 25 Detroit 34 38 Indianapolis. 45 23 G’ml Rapids. 24 4G Columbus .. .44 24 Minneapolis. 24 50 Milwaukee ..45 28 Kansas City.2l 53 Flan a Big Fow-Wow, The Indians of the Northwest are planning a big blowout. The scheme as now outlined includes any number of pony races, wrestling, jumping and other athletics, the whole to wind up with a sham battle and a mock buffalo hunt. Every Indian in the country will be invited, and the Indians will ask Uncle Sam to send troops and assist in the sham battle. The chiefs pledge themselves to preserve good order. The powwow is planned for July 4, 1898. Bonk of fpain in Bad Shape. The statement of the Bank of Spain, which has been formally gazetted, has increased the adverse comment on the bank management. It shows a note circulation of 13< 1,900,000 pesetas in excess of the authorized issue. c pent $75,000 to Recover SBOO. The Barbara Yagle case of Oneonta, N. Y„ which has been in litigation for several years, has been settled at a special term of the Supreme Court. The sum involved was SBOO. and the costs of many trials was $75,000.

While We Sweltered. A letter received at Fort Townsend, Wash., froru Alaska brings particulars of the terrible death of three men—Blackstone, Bottcher and Mollique—who were frozen to death while endeavoring to carry mail from Sunrise City across the glacier to Prince William Sound. Orangemen on Parade. At Belfast, the usual celebrations in commemoration of the battle of the Boyne took place. Twenty thousand orangemen marched in procession and great crowds filled the streets. Diacip'i cd by a Mob. A. M. Winebrener, who was arrested Saturday at Beatrice, Neb., at the instance cl his wife, on a charge of horsewhipping his stepdaughter, was taken from jail Sunday morning by a masked mob of over 100 citizens and treated to a boat of tar and feathers. Texas Bank Goe< L’n'er. The Coiiiptiolk-r of the Currency has received information of the failure of the Find National Bank ol Mason, Texas. Hauk KvamitH-r Johnson was placed in charge. The t ank lia« a capital of S3O,

LIVING IT DOWN

CHAPTER XXX. I rose very early next morning and went out. But even the fresh, sweet, misty air could not cool the fever in my veins. » When I reached the villa grounds I was still far from being as calm as I wished to be. The subtle sense of association hung about the place. Wherever I moved or looked. I seemed to see Joan as I had been used to see her. Every bush was like a ghostly figure: every path a landmark of some scene or word. When at last I turned a corner, and came face to face with Joan 'herself, I could hardly believe it was reality. She wore a white dress. and had a little lace handkerchief tied under her chin. As she saw me she started. Perhaps the morning light showed us the changes that time had wrought, as the previous night had failed |o do. ■ , She came up to me and put out her hand. “Darby is not well," she said, hurriedly; “she seems to have taken a chill. I have just sent a man for the doctor. She has fallen asleep now, but I don't like her looks.” “I was afraid she would be ill,” I answered, as I turned round and walked beside her to the house. "Did site te!i you about coming to my room last night V’ “No!” she exclaimed in wonder. “To your room! What for?” “She evidently thinks,” I said, “that we are not quite on good terms —you and l—and she wished to help me to a better understanding; so she came to me with your journal, and begged me to read it.” “With my journal!” she cried, her face growing suddenly scarlet. “Oh, she had no right—she should not have done that! It was very wrong of her.” “Do not agitate yourself,” I said coldly. "You surely do not suppose I would read one word of it without your knowledge!” She stopped and looked up in my face. "You-have not?” she said tremulously. "Of course not,” I answered. “Your confidence is sacred. I should never think of violating it.” A strange little smile came to her lips. “I might have known,” she said. "1 might have trusted; yon are so different to others.” “I hope,” I said, “that any one who knows the meaning of honor would behave in a similar manner. I will give you back your book if you will come to my room.”

“Very well,” she said, softly, and followed me across the vestibule. I went in and took her journal from the drawer where I had placed it. She stood on the threshold and watched me. I came up to her and placed the book in her hands. As I did so she turned very pale, then looked up in my face. “1 ought to have no secrets from you,” she said slowly. “And I don’t know why I should mind your reading this. There is nothing wrong—only—only it is very foolish.” “My dear,” I said gravely, “I have no wish to learn anything about you that your own lips cannot tell me. Some day, perhaps, you will understand me better than you have yet done. But lam content to wait.” She put her hand to her head with that touch of perplexity. “To wait!” she said slowly; “that is very hard. I know I ought to have told you long ago, only I think I was afraid. But I am not afraid now.” 1 drew her into the room and closed the door. “Joan,” I said quietly, “tell me the endtire truth. Between us there should be nothing to conceal or to avoid. Is there nothing you remember?” Her hands nervously clasped and unclasped the fastening of the book she held. “It is all—here,” she said faintly; “only —I have not dared to look since I recovered.” The color wavered in her cheek; her eyes met mine slowly, in questioning appeal. “If you would read it for me,” she said, and held the book toward me. I saw her hand tremble. I took it and held it in my own. “Are you quite sure,” I asked, “that you mean this? Do you think there is anything here you would rather I did not read? say you cannot remember; you may have written things down that were meant only for your eyes.” She shook her head. She looked at me with the trust and simplicity of a child. “I will never deceive you again,” she said. “When you know me as I am, you may act as you please. It is all there, I think; all except that time when my memory failed. Perhaps,” she added sorrowfully, “you may hate me—or despise me. There may be things written down there that I never meant any one to know; but you are so good, I —l do not think you will be hard on me. I am sorry I did not trust you from the first.” “And so am I, heaven knows!” I answered below my breath. “I will give you all the day to read it,” she went on presently. “Then to-night I will meet you in the garden—where—where I to!»l you I would be your wife five years ago. Do you remember?” “Yes,” 1 answered gravely. “I will be there.” How I lived out that day I hardly know. I shut myself up with that book, and devoured its pages with hungry eyes. Every detail of that young, brave life was now before me —its tenderness, its wrecked hopes, its broken faith, its struggles with temptation, its long hidden sorrow, its gradual awakening to a new happiness, and the awful death-blow that my own hand had struck at that happiness. “If I had but known!” I said to my aching heart. “Oh. if I had but known!” The hours waned, the sunset faded; the faint, chill wind came np from the sea, and swayed the leaves beyond my casement, and fanned my face as i leant 1 there, longing for the dusk of nightfall as never lover longed for his beloved. I went into the quiet night, humble and weak, but glad at heart as never yet had I been glad through many weary years of life. She fell down on her knees beside me when she came. I drew her to my heart. I murmured every word of love and comfort I could, think of. Suddenly the moved and stirred. Her I eyes opened. I bent down and met their | it jr««, Ralph?” she said dreamily.

By "Rita"

then sat up and leaned her head against my shoulder. “I have Keen asleep a long, long time,” she said, “but I have had a beautiful dream. I think you are sorry for me. Will you try and love me a little again? You did once, I know.” I saw the tears gather in her eyes. I heard her voice quiver and break in its soft appeal. My arms closed round her with all the garnered passion and remorse of tlreir starved and empty past. “Love you!” I cried. "Oh, my darling —my darling, there are no words to tell how 1 love you! Whi n I think of how I have misjudged you, wronged you, tried you,' I hate myself for the folly and suspicion that have cost us both so much. I —I wonder you do not hate me, too!” “Hate you!” she cried. “You ” Then her head nestled back on my shoulder; she trembled like a leaf. "I —I forgot," she whispered. "Have you read i it?” “Every word,” I said. “And was I very wicked?” I could have laughed aloud in my triumph and my joy. “Very,” 1 said, “for not telling me at once what was in your heart. 1 thought it was Yorke.” Suddenly she drew herself away, and hid her face in her hands. “Oh!” she moaned, "I remember now— I remember now. It has all come back. He was —he was murdered!” "Murdered!” 1 cried aghast. “No, no. ■ Joan, don't say that. It was an accident.” “Tell me all!” she cried wildly. "I can never know a happy moment till that mystery is cleared up. You followed me. did you not?”

“Y’es,” I said. “But I think I missed the way when I heard the shot that guided me back.” "When you heard the shot!” she cried, raising her ghastly face to mine. “You were not there at the time?” “Certainly not," I answered. “Oh, thank God!” she cried; “thank God!” and threw her arms round me with a burst of hysterical weeping. For long I could not soothe her; for long I could gather nothing from her incoherent words; but at last the truth dawned upon me. She feared that I had taken vengeance into my oWn hands—that the long feud between Yorke and myself had culminated in this act of revenge for the dishonor he had sought to east upon my life. This shock it was that had acted so terribly upon her feeble strength, and for a time overthrown its mental balance. And now, for the first time, she learned the truth, and, learning it, was like one mad with joy and relief. The revulsion of feeling was so strong, it almost frightened me. “Oh,” she cried amidst wild sobs, “you have been so good—so good—so good! You must never leave me again! Indeed indeed I will try to be all you wish. I will never hold a thought back from your knowledge. Only trust me again—take me back to your heart—for, oh, my husband, I love you so! All these years I have loved you, and you would not believe it, though I tried to show it you. There is nothing I would not do for you to make you happy or give you peace. I would die for you this moment if ” “No,” I interrupted, “for that would be foolish, Joan. You shall do better—you shall live for me.” "I 1 rom this very hour,” she said solemnly. I bent and kissed the quivering lips. “From this very hour,” I answered.

CHAPTER XXXI. It is the late afternoon of a mild February day, when, leaving Joan in her boudoir with Nettie Croft and Darby, I stroll out of the house, and, scarce thinking of what I am doing, take the path to the old summer house—the tragic scene of Yorke’s death. I have not been there since that awful day when the body was discovered. I cannot tell what impulse prompts me to go there now, unless it is a hint dropped by Mrs. Birket that a rumor has been circulated saying that the place is haunted—that a shadowy figure has been seen coming out of the summer house in the dusk, that it stands there meaning and wringing its hands for a brief space, and . then vanishes.

I was walking steadily on, when, just as the light grew dim and shadowy, I fancied I saw something moving in the open space beyond. I stopped abruptly; my footsteps had made no sound on the wet, soft moss, and, in the shadows of the trees, I could see without being seen. As my eyes grew accustomed to the light 1 saw that something certainly was there —a figure crouching close to the ground and uttering from time to time a low, strange moan. I crept a little nearer, keeping well under the shadow of the trees. Then suddenly I sprang out into the open space and confronted the creature. At first I could not be quite sure what it was. A heap of rags, a grimed and wasted face, where the dark eyes flamed like lamps, a mass of wild, disheveled hair, black as night, hanging loose and disordered over the shoulders; this was the sight that greeted my eyes. ‘•What are you doing here?” I demanded, as the wild eyes met my own. The only answer was a low chuckle. The wretched creature drew her rags closer round her, seeming to hug something to her bosom. I repeated my question, coming a little nearer as I did so. This time she burst into a volley of incoherent exclamations mingled with abuse. I saw she was hopelessly intoxicated; the soddened, brutalized intoxication of an habitual drunkard. “No —no,” she kept repeating; “don’t come near me! I did not mean it—you know I did not mean it! Oh!” she suddenly shrieked, ‘‘take the gun from him! He will shoot me—he is coming! Keep back, I tell you—keep back!” I went up to her, and seized her by the shoulders. She was too weak for resistance, and presently stood there passive and cowering. “Now,” I said, “follow me to the house. I am a magistrate, and you must give an account of yourself. She looked at me in bewilderment. I wondered what it was in her eyes that reminded me of some one I had once seen —some fugitive resemblance I could not catch or trace. She stumbled after me with weak, unsteady steps. When we reached the Hall, I took her round to the servants’ entrance and gave her in charge of a good-natured scullery maid. “Get her washed and give her some decent clothing,” I said; “I will speak to her after dinner.” The woman went meekly enough away, and I returned to Joan’s boudoir. Nettie and Alfy were there talking quietly together. I wondered as I looked at them whether Joan’s hopes would ever be realized—whether the time would come when Nettie would reward her young lover’s devotion? When dinner was over that evening I made some excuse to get away, leaving them together in Joan’s favorite room.. I sent word that the woman waa to be brought to my study, but a few momenta afterward the footman returned, aayfog

the was to Ilf that they bid bees obH<»4 to put her to bed. “She talks aM theiltr.e, sir.” be went on. “It is a sort of raving. Mrs. Birket is with her now. She thinks a doctor should be sent for.” I went straight to the room. The old housekeeper met me at the door, then closed it after ua. I saw she was trembling greatly. "Sir Ralph,” she whispered, "don't yon know who it is?” I glanced at the bed. but I could recognize nothing familiar in that awful face, those wild eyes, and muttering lips. “No, ’ I said. “Do you?” “Yes,” she answered, in the same low key; "I recognized her at once, but I have said nothing to the other servants. She is Mrs. March. That white hair must have been a disguise.” I started. “Mrs. March!” I cried. My voice reached the wretched creature. She half ruse in the bed and stared wildly at me. "\V ho calls?” she said. "Is it Lady Ferrers?” Then she burst into a peal of wild laughter. “Lady Ferrers —where is Lady Ferrers? She thought to have him, did she? No —no, my lady; he is my lover, not yours. He shall never be yours; I will kill him first!” “That is how she goes on'all the time,” said Mrs. Birket. “I think you had better not tell my lady, sir; it might upset her.’ “I did not kill him,” muttered the woman on the couch. “It was only a threat. Why did he taunt me —I who loved him as that pale-faced girl could never have done? I, who was his slave, his toy, his fancy for an idle hour? I told him —I warned him—but he would not believe.” I bent eloser to the restless head. “Did you take his life?” I said, slowly and distinctly. A gray, sickly hue crept over her face. She stopped as one in the attitude of listening. "They met,” she said. “I saw them meet. I spoke to him; I taunted him. Look—look!” and she shuddered, and pointed with one trembling hand to a corner of the room. “There he stands! Why does he point that gun at me? Tell him to go away! TUI him—tell him—tell him!” Her voice rose almost to a shriek. “There is no one there,” I said sternly. "Try to collect your thoughts. Do you know that death is near?” “Yes,” she said, and laughed a harsh, weak laugh. “I know. There are strange things about. The room is full of them. They have been with me a long, long time. That is what they said —Death! I did not mind. Only, why does he stand there? I—l did not kill him. I tell you I did not kill him!” “Hush!” I said soothingly. “If you wore there tell me all about it. Did the gun go off in his hands?” “He was desperate,” she panted, “and so —-so was I. I bade him forget the pale, cold girl whose heart had never for one moment held for him the passion of my own. I told him I would follow him to the world's end—and he cursed me. Then I grew mad. I —l snatched at the gun. I said my wretched life should end. He seized it from me. We struggled—a second, and he fell face downwards on the ground. Then terror seized me. I—l could not stay there. I fled like a hunted thing. No one had seen me come; no one saw me go.” So low, so broken, those last words, I scarce could hear them even in the silence of that quiet room. But as they ceased I heard Joan’s voice, so sweet and solemn, murmuring the prayer that in childhood and manhood, in age and trouble, in sickness and death, seems to spring naturally to all lips. She had entered the room unknown to me. The woman listened. Her face grew calm, a shadow swept over her face, her eyes closed. “She is at rest now,” I said, and turned to my wife, and, w*h gladness solemn and unspeakable, folded her to my heart. “The last doubt is cleared away,” I murmured passionately; “oh, thank heaven for that!” (The end.)

HE DROPPED HIS PIPE.

And the Loss Naturally Caused Him Feme Annoyance. One afternoon last summer I was standing on the great Suspension bridge just below Niagara Falls looking at the great cataract and admiring the wonderful colors of the green and blue river 200 feet below. Several workmen were engaged in painting the bridge, and I became interested in their operations. It required no little engineering skill to rig up an apparatus by which to enable a painter to traverse the giant guy rope cables which radiate from the center of the bridge, fanshape, toward either end of the structure. A painter’s platform four feet square was suspended from one of these cables by a trolley arrangement, a grooved wheel running on the cable. By means of a rope attached to tills wheel a man on the bridge could draw the platform from the river bank—the terminus of the cable—to the bridge above, and as the platform passed along the cable a workman sitting on a common chair on the platform would paint the great iron rope above his head and behind the trolley wheel. I was especially interested in the work of a Swede, who, perched on a small platform, was painting one of the Canadian braces. He had begun at the end of the cable on the Canadian shore, far below, and had been pulled’up the cable’s steep incline toward the bridge until perhaps two-thirds of his journey had been completed. There was absolutely nothing but air between him and tihe seething river 200 feet below; but there he sat, on a swinging platform, methodically plying his brush and complacently smoking a short clay pipe. How it happened I don’t know. But the man on the bridge suddenly let the rope slip out of his hands. There was a sharp cry of alarm from the startled painter as the platform began to spin down the incline, with constantly increasing momentum. It seemed as if the poor fellow must inevitably bo dashed against the rocky precipice and tumbled into the river a mangled corpse. The slack of the rope on the bridge, however, became entangled around a brace and the perilous descent came to a sudden end. The Hying platform stopped with a jerk. The chair, a pail of paint, a brush and a clay pipe went sailing into space. The painter caught a corner of the platform just in time to save himself from following them. Two minutes later the platform had been pulled up to the bridge, and the Swede was given a chance to stretch his legs again in safety. The man on the bridge had not a word to say. He was as pale as a corpse and trembled like a leaf. But the Swede did have something to say, and he said it without the slightest tremor of emotion in his voice. “You,” he remarked. “Ay tank you skal lalnd me your pipe. Lalk big fool Ay drop mine."—Chicago TimAa-Hainl.!

MUSGRAVEPARDONED

NOTED INSURANCE SWINDLER A FREE MAN. Clemency Extended Because He lain a Dying Condition—History of the Case Which Led to His Arrest and Conviction. Fet Free to Die. “Bob” Musgrave has been pardoned by Gov. Matthews that he may die outside prison walls, and the story of his audacious attempt to swindle insurance companies out of $35,000 a few years ago by the supposed loss of his life in a fire is being retold. His term would have expired in November, 1898, but at the request of some friends the Governor’s private secretary investigated his physical condition, and finding that he was dying fiom consumption, the Governor put into effect his policy of pardoning all convicts who are surely on the way to the grave. Musgrave believes that he may recover once out of prison, and in a letter to an old acquaintance in Terre Haute recently, he said: “Tell my friends that if I am to be gotten out at all it must be soon. This matter cannot be delayed until fall.” Musgrave had been in the real estate business in Terre Haute until 1890, when the accumulating evidence of his dealings, forging of mortgages and the like, caused him to take sudden leave, and for a year his whereabouts was not known, although the authorities were after him, as several indictments had been returned against him. Operates in Chicago. In the early part of 1891 he turned up in Chicago, having left Kansas City, where be had been in trouble in connection with his employment with a wholesale house in which a relative was a partner. In Chicago he set up as a broker and promoter. He started the report that he represented an English syndicate with capital of several million pounds. He received letters addressed to T. B. Barnum, and after a while the acquaintances formed in the office building became suspicions of him. He became acquainted with a woman known as Kate Burton, but whose right name was McLaughlin, and he spent considerable money on her. Then as he began to run out of his credit he planned the insurance swindle. He took out seven policies, in all, for $35,000 on his life, some of the regular old line insurance and some in accident companies. Two of these he made payable to the Burton woman. He notified her of what he had done, and when he took leave of her in August, 1891, he told her that when she heard of his death to collect the money on the two policies and then wait to hear from him. The other policies were made payable to his mother and sister, whom he had taken to Chicago from Terre Haute.

Plot Is Hatched. Charles Trout of Terre Haute was a young man who believed Musgrave was the Napoleon of swindlers and his admiration for him was great. He would do Musgrave’s bidding, whatever it might be. Musgrave had let him into the scheme, and one night Trout met him at a station five miles north of the city. They made their way across fields to an abandoned log cabin on the bank of the Wabash River. In a satchel carried by Musgrave was a human skeleton, which he had bought from a St. Louis firm. The next day was Sunday, and Trout quietly gave the tjp to some of Musgrave’s former acquaintances in Terre Haute that be was in hiding at the cabin and would like to see them. Among these was Capt. Ross, now Mayor, and who was then in the real estate business. These went to the cubin and talked with Musgrave. Of course the purpose was to establish his presence in the cabin, which was to be burned that night, leaving the St. Louis skeleton to represent him. In the early part of the night neighboring farmers saw the fiames of the burning cabin, but did not go to it until daylight. Trout was there early, too, and he industriously circulated the report that Musgrave had been burned to death. The coroner took out the bones of the skeleton, and the police made a search of the ashes. They found Musgrave's K. of P. charm.

Unearthed by Detectives. The police gave it out that it was a case of suicide, and the matter was about to be dropped when detectives employed by the insurance companies put in an appearance. The knowledge that there was much insurance on his life, together with his known preference to obtain money by doubtful methods, raised the suspicion of a swindle in the cabin fire. One of the Terre Haute papers, which had taken no stock in the local police’s suicide theory, pointed out that if the charm could have gone through the fire some of the buttons on the clothing, his keys or the metal on his satchel ought to be found. The police made a second search, but found none of these things. It seems that Musgrave watched the cabin burn, and when the fire was nearly out he threw into it his K. of P. charm. He had boarded a midnight train on the Chicago and Eastern Illinois Road and returned to Chicago. He kept in hiding there, dyed his hair, which was red, and grew a beard. Located in St. Pan!. William Markle, who had married Musgrave’s sister, did not believe he was dead, and going to Trout forced that young man to tell him where he was. It bo happened that on Markle’s arrival in Chicago he saw Musgrave, and knew him despite his dyed hair. Markle wanted S2OO borrowed money, and threatened to tell people in Terre Haute that he had seen his brother-in-law. Musgrave could not give the money, but taking alarm left for St. Paul. Then he wrote to Kate Burton, who already had been seen by the detective. She showed them the letter and they arrested Musgrave in St. Paul. The trial was long drawn out, but in the end he was sentenced to the penitentiary for ten years. Trout, who had been indicted ns a fellow conspirator, was not prosecuted because after the case began he was of some service to the prosecution, and furthermore been use it was thought he was only a wonk tool in the hands of the swindler. Musgrave was born in Leeds, England. His father owned considerable farming land near Terre Haute and in Kansas, and it is understood that after the father's death the son got possession of it and lost it in land denis. He was an insignificantlooking person. Small of stature, small eyes with red rims and a protruding nose. It is supposed he will return to the home of his mother north of Terre Haute, on a farm.

Courting.

In the Ukraine, Russia, the woman does the courting. When she falls in love she goes to the man’s house and tells him of the state of her feelings, and, if he does not agree to her proposals, she remains there, hoping to coax him into accepting her. The man cannot treat her with the least discourtesy or turn her out, for her friend* would be sf.re to avenge the Insult; so, If he wants to escape her, his only chance is to leave the house and retuuin away until she is gone.

TARIFF BILL PASSES.

SENATE APPROVESTHE DINGLEY MEASURE. Final I.’allot Shows Thirty-eight Ayes and Twenty-Eight N'oea Goes to the House for Further Consideration. Hili Goes Throu-jh. By the decisive vote of 38 to 28 the tariff bill was passed in the United States Senate shortly before 5 o’clock Wednesday. The culmination of the long and arduous struggle had excited the keenest interest, and the floor and the galleries of the Senate chamber were crowded by those anxious to witness the closing scene. Speaker Reed, Chairman Dingley and many of the members of the House of Representatives were in the rear area, while every s< at in the galleries save th< s reserved for foreign representatives was occupied. 1 he main interest centered in the final vote, and aside from this there was little of a dramatic character in the debate. The early part of the day was spent on amendments of comparatively minor importance, the debate branching into financial and anti-trust channels. By 4 o’clock the Senators began manifesting their impatience by calls for “vote,” “vote,” and soon thereafter the last amendment was disposed of and the final vote began. There were many interruptions as pairs were arranged, and then at 4:55 o’clock the Vice President arose and announced the passage of the bill — yeas, 38; nays, 28. There was no demonstration, but a few scattered handclaps .vere given as the crowds dispersed Following is the vote cast: YEAS. Allison, McMillan, Baker, Mantle, Burrows, Mason, Carter, Morrill, Clark, Nelson, Cullom, Penrose, Davis, Perkins, Dcboe, Platt (Conn.), Elkins, Platt (N. Y.). Fairbanks, Pritchard, Foraker, Proctor, Galliuger, Quay, Hale, Sewell, Hanna, Shoup, Hawley, Spooner, Jones (Nev.), Warren, Lodge, Wellington, Mcßride, . Wetmore, McEnery, Wilson—3B. NAYS. Bacon, Mallory, Bate, Martin, Berry, Mills, Caffery, Mitchell, Cannon, Morgan, Chilton, Taseo, Clay. Pettus, Cockrell, Rawlins, Faulkner, Roach, Gray. Turner, Harris (Kan.), Turpie, Jones (Ark.), Vest, Kenny, Walthall, Lindsay, White—2S. The following pairs were announced, the first named would have voted for the bill and the last named against it: Aldrich nnd Murphy, Chandler and McLaurin, Frye and Gorman, Gear and Smith, Hansbrough and Daniel. Hoar and Harris (Tenn.), Thurston and Tillman, Wolcott and George. Au analysis of the final vote shows that the affirmative was cast by 35 Republicans, 2 silver Republicans, Jones (Nev.), and Mantle, and 1 Democrat, McEnery. The negative vote was cast by 25 Democrats, 2 Populists, Harris (Kan.), and Turner, and 1 silver Republican, Cannon. Eight Republicans were paired for the bill and eight Democrats against it. The Senators present and not voting were: Populists, 5, viz., Allen, Butler, Heitfeld, Kyle and Stewart; silver Republicans, 2, viz., Teller and Pettigrew. Following the passage of the bill a resolution was agreed to asking the House for a conference, and Senators Allison, Aldrich, Platt (Conn.), Burrows, Jones (Nev.,i, Vest, Jones (Ark.), and White were named as conferees on the part of the Senate. The tariff debate began Muy 25, on which day Mr. Aldrich, in behalf of the Finance Committee, made the opening (tatement. The actual consideration of the bill began the next day, and debate has been continuous since then, covering six weeks and one day. It has been notable in some respects, although it has lacked many of the dramatic and oratorical features marking former debates. From the outset the advocates of the bill refrained from set speeches, and the discussion was narrowed to a consideration of rates and schedules, rather than general principles. Mr. Aldrich’s illness took him from the chamber after the first day, and since then the bill has been in immediate charge of Mr. Allison. The opposition has been directed in the main by Mr. Jones (Ark.) and Mr. Vest (Mo.), while Senators White, Caffery, Gray and Allen have frequently figured in the debate. The bill as it goes back to the House re-enacts the anti-trust section of the Wilson law, while the reciprocity and retaliatory provisions are substituted for those of the House. One of the most important new provisions added by the Senate is that placing a stamp tax on bonds, debentures and certificates of stock. Aside from these more important changes the bill as it goes back to the House has 874 amendments, of various degrees of importance, which must be reconciled between the two branches of Congress.

PERTINENT Personals

J. H. R. Molson, a wealthy banker ot Montreal, has given $155,000 to Canadian charities. The Crown Princess of Sweden has taken to bicycle riding for her health, and has already found the exercise beneficial. The French ambassador to Great Britain is the best paid ambassador in the world, his yearly salary being SOO,OOO. Peter L. Holst of Chicago, a native of Norway, is the oldest mnn to apply for naturalization in this country. He is 92 years old. The Rev. Henry Rupp, now in his 93d year, is the oldest preacher in Illinois, and still preaches every Sunday, being strong and vigorous. Gen. Benjamin Prentiss, the “hero of Shiloh,” at one time one of the wealthiest men in Illinois, is said to be in meager circumstances. A report that Ruskin’s mind is becoming feeble is denied. He is thoughtful and quiet, it is said, but his intelligenc« is not at all impaired. The will of Mrs. Surah Withers of Bloomington, Ind., bequeaths $40,000 tc found a library in Nicholasville, Ky., where she was born. Dr. Emma Wakefield, who has just sueceessfully passed an examination, is the first colored woman to be licensed to practice medicine in Louisiana. Rev. O. W. Hutchinson of Watertown, Mass., has declined the presidency of Grant University, Chattanooga, Tenn., tc which he was recently elected. J. S. Cathon, of 126 Superior street, Cleveland, Ohio, was killed at Denver by falling from the observatory of the Equitable Bußdiug, a dlstauc* of 425 feet.

SENATE AND HOUSE.

WORK OF OUR NATIONAL LAW. MAKERS A Week’s Proceedings in the Halls of Congress—lmportant Measures Discussed and Acted Upon—An Impartial Resume of the Business. The National Solons. The tariff bill passed the Senate Wednesday morning by a vote of 38 to 28. The day was spent in amendments of minor importance. Following the passage of the bill, a resolution was agreed to asking the House for a conference, and Senators Allison, Aldrich, Platt of Connecticut, Burrows, Jones of Nevada, Vest, Jones of Arkansas, and White were named as conferees on the part of the Senate. The session of the Senate Thursday was uneventful, the deficiency appropriation bill being considered throughout the day. Among its provisions is one accepting the invitation of France to participate in the Paris exposition of 1900. The bill was rot completed up to the time of adjournment. An effort to have several claims added to the bill led to a debate on the propriety of paying Government claims, the general sentiment being that a bill covering all claims should be brought in at session of Congress. A resolution requesting the President to demand of Spain the release of Ona Melton, one of the Competitor prisoners, was referred to the Committee on Foreign Relations. A new committee amendment was agreed to appropriating $6,000 in full indemnity to the heirs of three Italians lynched in Louisiana in 1886, *is was also one appropriating to the widow of the late Representative Cooke of Illinois $5,000. The House sent the tariff bill to conference. Chairman Dingley, Paine of New York, Dalzell of Pennsylvania, Hopkins of Illinois nnd Grosvenor of Ohio. Republicans, anu Bailey of Texas, McMillin of Tennessee and Wheeler of Alabama, Democrats, were appointed conferees. The proceedings were in nowise sensational. The House spent the afternoon under the special order adopted last week listening to eulogies on the life and public services of Judge Holman. The B'enate met Friday under the depressing influence of the death of Senator Harris of Tennessee, who has been one of the conspicuous figures in the upper house of Congress for over twenty years. Rev. Mr. Johnston, chaplain, referred feelingly to the loss the Senate had sustained and spoke of Senator Harris’ “rugged honesty, his unswerving attachment to his political principles, his opjtosition to all ne considered wrong, his devotion to his State and his service to the nation.” Senator Bate of Tennessee paid a high tribute to the memory of the distinguished dead, and offered the usual resolutions which provided for a public funeral in the Senate, to which the House, President and cabinet, members of the Supreme Court, the diplomatic corps, major general of the army and the admiral of the navy were invited, and for a committee of nine Senators to accompany the remains to Tennessee. Then, as a further mark of respect, the Senate adjourned. After the Senate adjourned the VicePresident appointed the following named Senators to attend the remains to Memphis: Messrs. Bate, Walthall, Berry, Turpie, Allen, Deboe, Pettus, Chilton and Wetmore.

A discussion of Union Pacific Railroad affairs occupied the attention of the Senate Monday. The deficiency appropriation bill was taken up early in the day and Mr. Morgan proposed an amendment designed to prevent the consummation of an agreement made some time since for the settlement of the Government's claims against the road. Mr. Morgan spoke throughout the day, severely arraigning the Pacific railroad managers. Late in the day the entire subject was disposed of by the withdrawal of the paragraph to which Mr. Morgan had offered his amendment. The deficiency appropriation bill was not completed up to the time of adjournment. The price to be paid for armor plate fol- the three new battle-ships now in course of construction was the theme of extended and at times lively debate in the Senate Tuesday. Late in the day an amendment to the deficiency appropriation bill was agreed to restricting the price of armor plate to S3OO per ton, or $125 less than the amendment reported by the committee and recommended by the navy department as the minimum rate acceptable to the armor contractors. Another amendment inserted in the bill directed the Secretary of the Navy to investigate as to the establishment of a government armor factory and to report to the next session of Congress. Then the deficiency appropriation bill, the last of the great supply measures, was passed. The House took a recess for one day without transacting any business.

How Fast.

This sounds as if it came from the variety stage. But as a matter of fact, it is history, for occasionally funny things do happen in the courts besides the lawyers. It was in a negligence case recently and a good-humored Irishman was a witness. The Judge, lawyers and everybody else were trying their best to extract from the Irishman something about the speed of a train. “Was it going fast?” asked the Judge. “Aw, yis, it were,” answered the witness. “How fast?” “Oh, purty fasht, yer Honor.” “Well, how fast?” “Aw, purty fasht.” “Was it as fast as a man can run?” “Aw, yis,” said the Irishman, glad that the basis for an analogy' was supplied. “As fasht as two min kin run.” —Buffalo Enquirer.

A Bill to Match.

The Jersey Boniface—Did that fellow pay for his room in advance? The Clerk—Yes, but he kicked at the size of the bill—said it was out of all proportion. The Jersey Boniface —Then unchain my pet mosquito 1-i Truth.

Feminine Repartee.

She—Of course, you all talked about me as soon as I left? Her—No, dear; we thought you had attended to that sufficiently—Tit-Bits.

Odds and Ends.

Germany in 1896 exported 3,000,000 needles. United States contains 150,000 seamstresses. It is always a gooJ idea to recognize the strength of your enemy. The man at thie bottom of the ladder cannot fall and hurt himself. It 's pretty hard to get people interested in what you used to be. With a woman her soul should always be at least as well clad as her