Evening Republican, Volume 14, Number 91, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 16 April 1910 — Page 3

The Quest of Betty Lancey

CHAPTER XXIV. Hackleye greeted Johnson’s rap with * nervous “Come in,” and exchanged a wan smile for Johnny friendly salutation. He had been writing and the table was strewn with piles of closely written‘manuscript. Johnny’s eyes fell upon the pages, and riveted there. That they .were the work of Hackleye’s pen was evident, and The writing was absolutely unlike that In the letters found addressed to Cerlsse Wayne! “Writing a book?” asked Johnny, as he sat down with an effort to be composed. “No, merely some Instructions as to what I want done with my estate, in case anything happens to me," answ-.r-ed Hackleye. “It’s on account of the children, you know.” “Don't let me bother you,” politely suggested Johnny, “if I interrupt I'll go.” “On the contrary I'm glad to have you,” replied Hackleye, "I’ve had a mournful morning, spending it among reliquaries. Would you like to see some of my memento.es?” He pulled out a deep drawer from the side of the table and began lifting out treasure after treasure. Folded in softest parchment was a long caressing curl of rust red hair, only too evidently cut from the head of his dead wife. Then there were pictures of her from babyhood to maturity. And letters — love notes—all in the same handwriting. There were odd gloves, delicately perfumed, with the strange odor that had permeated the Desterle home that wretched morning of tragedy and woe, cobwebby lace handkerchiefs, and a bunch of faded flowers. “Here is her wedding bonnet,” mused Hackleye. “See, here is a program of an exhibition day in the convent where she played and sang. She? had a voice like melted crystal. I worshipped her, made an idol of her, and I paid the penalty. I hope that death has brought her' peace—life never could have done so. My wife, by beloved wife!” . , “Hackleye,” said Johnny, placing his hand on the bowed head, “you didn’t kill her. I know it. Help us to And the man who did." Hackleye looked up. “You’re the first one who’s had any faith in me,” he answered, “except Francis, Le Malheureux as you call him, her brother, you know. Francis and I have tried to save her name.” "Why,” questioned Johnny, striking while the iron was hot, “why does De Malheureux ever walk among men thus veiled and concealed?” Hackleye shot Johnny a gasp of terror. “As you would not injure the gentlest soul that ever walked," he pleaded, “try, never try to probe that mystery. For your own peace of mind leave Le Malheureux alone.” “I spied on you last night,” confessed Johnny, “I followed you into that closet there, where you have all those x Images of your wife. I want to apologize for doing it.” “You needn’t,” returned Hackleye. "Worship her loveliness any time you wish, as I do always." “Do you know Harcourt," abruptly questioned the American. “No, I’ve never met him,” answered Hackleye. “I never knew who the man was that had stolen my wife’s heart from me. Cerlsse was clever and she covered her path we(l. I do know, though, that towards the end she seemed to grow tired of him. He waxed Insanely jealous of her towards the end. I think she was planning to leave him at the last. “Who do you think killed her?” queried Johnny, “or do you know?" “I did not lease that house at *94 Briarsweet place—the one where the passage way was found you know." I “Why, I saw you, saw you go through e passage way myself, the morning after the murder,” cried Johnny. “Yes, I know you did,” admitted Hackleye. “That was my second visit there. I was in there the morning that ♦they found the body. I had followed Le Malheureux there up through the hole In the wall. Mrs. Desterle saw me there when she burst in the door. Le Mauheureux and I had gone up to see Cerlsse. Le Malheureux had been there, before. He had traced her out and told me whore she was. I went expecting to find the living woman—l found, dead clay. When the policeman and Mrs. Desterle’s husband were .carrying her back to her bedroom,. I walked down the stairs and away from the houstff When I .reached my lodgings, whtre I was stamping under an assumed name. I discovered I had lost one of my garters. I went back that night and forced an entrance to the Flanders house, and climbed back into the bedroom through the hole in the wall. I looked for thq, garter but couldn’t find it I wanted it for sentiment’s sake, and lot because I was afraid of any incrimination that might result from it, as for years I have been practically unknown In civilized countries. And," with a whimsical smile, “I was frightened away, and in my haste to leave the Flanders house, I lose the mate to It out of my pocket." “And I found it right by the door to the house that Harnley Hackleye was supposed to have leased," said Johnny. "Was the Man-Aperilla in the room when you and Le Malheureux were?" came Johnny's final question. “I know of no such animal," said Hackleye. “And now, Mr. Johnson, I am tired. The strain of months is telling on me, do you mind if I beg to be •xcused?”

By MAGDA F. WEST

* CHAPTER XXV. There was no delay in the trial. Justice v had waited sufficiently long and demanded an airing immediately. The crush in the courtroom was fearful and a jury was polled before noon. The crux of the examination came at last. They sent for Mrs. Harcourt and brought her in, forcing her to keep her veil down till she was directly in front of the prisoner. Then her face was bared. Hackleye fell forward as if shot to the heart. “Cerlsse!” he exclaimed. “Cerisse, my wife, and alive!” X The cdurt-room rang with riot-. Vainly did the judicial gavel rap for order, and the bailiffs seek to eject the most unruly. "The public nerve had been at too high a tension for tod long. With Hackleye’s return to self-control, comparative calm was restored. Mrs. Harcourt approached him very gently, and spoke! for the first time, "Are you not mistaken? Are you not mistaken?” she asked. “Look again. I never saw your wife when she was alive, but I believe we are very like each other.” At the sound of her voice, Hackleye was himself again. ; “No, you’re not the same,” he assented. “But it is strange, miraculous. Who are you ?” “I am the woman who married Harold Harcourt,” she replied, rather sadly, and at a sign from the judge left the room. They brought Harcourt in next and asked Hackleye if he knfew him. “I never saw him befpre,” replied the defendant. "Who is he?” “Tell him,” said the judge. Harcourt, ' cringing and fearful, • stammered dut his name. Hackleye gripped the witness chair hard. “You’d better! go away from me,” he said, peculiarly. “I have not committed murder yet, for my children’s sake, but I might.” “That is all, your honor,” said the jirosecution, “we are through with the witness.” Mrs. Harcourt took the stand. Her testimony divulged nothing new. Mark S. Flanders, who leased the house to the supposed Harnley Hackleye, asserted he had never seen his tenant, that the whole operation had been by let- t ter, accompanied by New York exchange to cover the rent for three' months, and that the lease when signed in duplicated by “Harnley Hackleye,” had never been seen by him, Flanders, till after his return from Europe. Hackleye was recalled to the stand. “You say that Francis Wayne, brother of the murdered woman, whose whereabouts you declare you do not know, had visited the room previously to the morning of her death?” “So I understood,” answered Hackleye. “Why?” “Well, he called upon me at my lodgings and said that he knew where Cerlsse was, and that if I wished to see her he would show me how to get to her. On numerous other occasions I had met up with her, but she always declined tq see me. Francis took me over to the street known as Briarsweet place. He had a latchkey to the front door —at No. 94. I think it was a skeleton key, but he is an artificer of uncommon skill, so I do not know. He let me in. There seemed to be no one at home, in the Flanders house. We went into the library, and he lifted down a brass plaque from the wall. We had great difficulty in crawling through the hole, as the panel stuck. When we got in there we found my wife dead. It was evident, too, that she had not occupied the room alone.” “Could Francis Wayne have leased this house in your name?” asked the Court. ♦ “I hardly think so,” replied Hamley. “In fact, I am positive he did not.” “Do you think he killed his sister?” asked* the Court again. “I am positive he did not” *What reason had he for surreptitiously following his sister. Was he afraid you would kill her?” “I do not know as to that. I think his object was to try and persuade her to return home to her children." Mrs. Dr. Fothergill then testified. “The morning after I had examined Mrs. Harcourt at the hospital and noted what seemed to me to be indications of this particular form of loco poisoning, I obtained permission to visit the room formerly occupied by Mrs. Wayne. It was practically untouched, and a glass stood on the washstand. I took it away with me, giving the police due notification that I had done so, and when at Tiome rinsed it thoroughly with water and a slight percentage of alcohol, as his latter solvent has a marked affinity for loco in any form. The analysis of this solution showed it to be highly charged with powdered loco root On mere woman’s intuition and my own initiative, I sought further. Undoubtedly the loco root was dropped intq the glass of water and later MrS. Wayne either wittingly or unwittingly drank IL” "Will you tell the court your diagnosis of the ailment of Mrs. Harcourt.” 'A bad case of poisoning from the male loco blossoms. Her present state of health is attributable only rigoroqs treatment of morpl Ire Mid female loco blossoms which iri * was subjected. The powders in ex»e were dispensed to her daily by h»? husband, so she claims, tn fact empl es at the hotel saw him give them tl her more than once. They are th* concentrated essence of the male blosSlm of this noxious plant. I should say , J.; T. f* "■ ’ '*• x *

she had been kept under the Influence of this drug about five years. ?Chose two parchment bags filled with white powder there, contain more of the same drugj. Thejr were discovered in Mr. Harcourt’s luggage.” o "And your opinion then is?” “My opinion is,” slowly stated Dr. jpothergill, "and I deduce it from scieri-' title facts and analyses, that Harold Jlarcourt not only kept his wife under the influence of loco for years, but that he employes this pestilential product as a means to kill Narcisse Wayne Hackleye.” CHAPTER XXVI. .a The second morning after the critical day when Dr. Fothergill had made her startling statements about the loco root found the case at a standstill. Each side was waiting for the other, and-for a half hour after court had opened there was nothing doing save a pother among the attorneys. “Your honor,” it spoke, “I am Francis /Wayne, the brother of the dead woman whose death you are trying to probe.” “Le Malheureux!” exclaimed Johnson and Larry Morris in a breath. The figure bowed to them and turned again to the judge. “If your honor please,” said Le Malheureux, “with all apologies for my tardiness "and for myself, I would like to tell my story. In this wallet are the documents of proof. “My story is my father’s shame. His name was John Francis Wayne, and he was* the son of Thomas James Wayne, once bishop of the diocese of Georgia. Among the slaves my grandfather owned was a fine fellow named Ben, who had been stolen from the Gold Coast. He had a son, also named Ben, and the father of the African Benoni that you have just thrown into jail, because he has kept silence out of respect for my infirmity. His son Ben and my father grew up in that relationship that once existed in the South betiveen boy-master and boy-slave. Ben’s father had told his son how their people were kings in mid-Africa, and of the enormous wealth they held there, all vested in diamond mines. The black lad and the white one were adventurous youths, and planned from boyhood up to sail to Africa as soon as they were grown to manhood. Ben was to be restored to his ancestral power and my father was to be enriched with half the wealth of the king-dom-and to return here t<i America £o live. Father wanted to be’ a physician, so his parents sent him ito Germany and later to France so study. Ben, the slave, went with him as his valet, though they were more like foster brothers, and. with good reason, as Ben’s mother had been my father’s wet nurse. Ben was bright, and to fit himself to rule over his people and to head his dreams of a vast African colonization he studied side by side with my father. They saved their money, did these two boys, and when they were matriculp'.ed made ready to go to Africa. Hovering around Paris before their departure my father met the beautiful twin daughters of a Frenchman of rank and wealth, the Mademoiselles Desiree and Marie De La Roux. They were like as two peas, and of exceptional grace and charm, and for a long while father did not know which to choose. He loved them both. Finally he decided upon Desiree, proposed. was accepted and married within a fortnight. As the two sisters had never been separated Marie accompanied the newly wedded pair to Africa. Shortly after their arrival in the ancient kingdom of Ben’s -father, a journey accomplished only after terrible hardships, Ben married Tyoga, the mother of Benoni, and the foster mother of Meta, now feenoni’s wife. The natives gave them short shrift at first. Had not my father’s really marvelous knowledge of electricity and his clever acquaintance witlp black art as ft was then practiced irt some portions of Germany stood them in good stead, their lives would not have been worth much. As it was the barbarians considered my father a terrible sorcerer, and exalted him to be their ruler. Shortly afterwards Ben and father quarreled and father had faithful slave executed with terrible torture, for the sight of the wealth in this African kingdom, and its almost limitless diamond fields had disclosed all the avaricious qualities of my father’s nature, and he felt no affection except for the glittering jewels that his thousands of serfs piled up at his feet. Tyoga remained to her lonely young mistress even after the fearful death of Ben, her husband. “Then Benoni and I were born—within a month of each other, when the first year of the sojourn on African soli was barely ended. Tyoga consecrated Benoni to my service at his birth, and he has been more faithful and loyal than a brother ever since. Within the next year my sister Cerisse was born. In appearance I was like jny father, but I had my mother’s disposition. Cerisse was the image of our mother and of our Aunt Marie, but her nature was that of our father. .Intensely vain, selfish and overbearing. Cerisse would have .been hated by all around the castle but for her exceptional beauty. She was barely two years old when a young, captain in the French army, Raoul de L’Enclose, stationed In camp a few rods from our demesne, met my Aunt Marie. They fell violently in love .with each other, and despite my father’s opposition were married by the old French Cure who had accompanied the party on its migration into the African wilderness. Father was wild with anger about the marriage. He forbade my aunt and her husband the house, and returned to my Aunt Marie her half of the joint fortune that she and her sister had brought with them to Africa, only because he feared that Capt. de L'Enclos might Invoke an investigation of the Wayne desmene by the French government. My aunt wa» by now thoroughly enraptured with life in the tropics; which was but natural, as the De La Roux had originally come from Martinique. Africa was barred to them, because both she and her husband feared my 1 father's vlndictlTen?ss.

(To be continued.)

Death presses heavily qn that man, wb », being b’rt too well known to others, lies in Ignorance of himselfSenxa.

POWER OF THE IMAGINATION.

Illustrated to Mr. BiUtopa by His Experience with a Thermometer. “I don’t know when I’ve been so put out by a little thing," said Mr. Billtops, according to the New York Sun, “as I was by the discovery that my thermometer was four degrees wrong; it gave me a real hard little jolt for one thing, and then it made me realize that for two years I had been making myself uncomfortable over nothing. “Out of doors I can stand the cold as well as anybody; but Indoors I like to be warm; 72 is about what suits me in the house. “Two years ago I bought a new thermometer, which I hung up in my room, and I haven’t been warm there in winter since. “Other parts Of the house seemed all right; in the parlor and in the dining room they got it up to 72 apparently without any trouble, but in my room it never seemed to get above 68. I didn’t shiver, but I never could get really warm, and one day I said to Mrs. Billtops: “ ‘Elizabeth, why can’t we get the heat up in my room? Why should my room be the only cold room in the house?’ “Mrs. Billtops comes in and stands around a minute and then she says: “ ‘Why, Ezra, it’s just as warm here as it is anywhere else.’ “‘Nonsense!’ I says to her. ’Look at that thermometer! It’s only 68 here and it’s 72 this minute in the parlor.’ “But Mrs. Billtops insisted that it was as warm in my room as it ,was anywhere else, and she said that probably the trouble was with my thermometer; that my thermoipeter didn’t mark correctly, and I said it did, and I’d show her conclusively that the thermometer was all right. I’d prove to her that 'my room was cold. I’d put my thermometer right alongside the one in the parlor and she’d see it go up in no time to 72. “So we put it out there, but it didn’t budge—that is, upward—but it did go down one degree. Standing side by side with the parlor thermometer marking 72, mine went down to 67; they were 5 degrees apart. “The temperature in the parlor, actually one degree colder than in my own room, had been entirely agreeable to me, while in my room, though it was actually warmer, T had, misled by my thermometer, never been able to get thoroughly and comfortably warmed up. Another illustration of the power of imagination. “Now I’ve got a correct thermometer and I don’t have any more trouble over the heat.”

LEGAL INFORMATION

One voluntarily becoming a passenger on a street car so crowded that he is compelled to ride in the vestibule, with knowledge of a rule that persons riding on do so at their own risk is held in Tompkins vs. Boston Elev. R. Co. 201 Mass. 114, 87 N. E. 488, 20 L. R. A. (N. S.) 1063, to assunme the risk of injury from being compelled temporarily to alight to enable other passengers to leave the car. ~ ■ • - - That no question as to the title of the insured can be considered by referees appointed in accordance with a clause in a standard Insurance policy which provides that, upon failure of the parties to agree as to the amount of loss, it should be referred to arbitrators, the award of a majority of whom should be conclusive as to the amount of loss and damage, is held in Dunton vs. Westchester F. Ins. Co. (Me.) 71 Atl. 1037, 20 L. R. A. (N. S.) 1058. Under a statute requiring compensation to be made for all damage caused by the taking of land or by the change of discontinuance of a private way or by the taking of an easement, it is held, in Davis vs. New England R. Co. 199 Mass. 292, 85 N. E. 475, 20 L. R. A. (N. S.) 1061, that recovery cannot be had by an abutting owner because of interference with the light, hlr or prospect of his property through an elevation of railroad tracks in the absence of any taking of his land or destruction of his easements. The charter of a corporation showed that a large part of its capital stock had been actually paid in cash, when in fact it had been paid by assignment of patents applied for, but not then granted. Another person, relying on the recitations in the charter, loaned money to the corporation, for which later he sued. In McKee vs. Rudd, 121 Southwestern Reporter, 312, this question was squarely presented: Can a creditor rely upon statements made in the articles of association filed by a business corporation, and upon proof of the falsity thereof be permitted to recover against the parties signing the articles, in an action for fraud and deceit? The Missouri Supreme Court decided that the representation relied on, whether false or true, were made to the Secretary of State to procure a certificate of corporation, and not to the plaintiff to secure credit.

A Subtle Force.

“What do you understand by ‘magnetism* as so often applied to an actor’s personality T' “Magnetism,** replied the manager, “is the force that draws dollars to the box office.’’ —Washington Star. If there are party guests at a house, the man of the bouse isn’t the host: He is only the husband of the hostess. The more talk it takes to run things **he slower they mfive.

QUICK WORK ON HER PALACE.

Mr«. Leiter Givea Builders Six Months to Finish Home. Records will go by the board when the contractors get busy on the magnificent summer residence planned for Mrs. Levi Z. Leiter of Washington and Chicago, and which is to make the Haven estate one of the show places >f the north shore. Up to last summer Mrs. Leiter knew little of Beverly, says a Boston Post corresuondent'. She came here last season, summered at the Pickman cottage at the Cove, fell a victim to the allurements of the Beverly shore, and pronounced Beverly the most delightful place she had ever spent a season r in. She is a good judge, fbr she has traveled the world over. So much did Mrs. Leiter become enamored with Beverly that she decided to purchase a place, and after much hunting finally selected a porttbn of the Haven estate at the farms, where she is said to have paid at the rate of >50,000 an acre for three acres of land, which commands a beautiful view of the sea. Then Mrs. Leiter decided to build. She had been very close to the Tafts during their stay at Beverly, and had entertained the younger people. She had plans made for a mansion house after the old English style, which it is said, will eclipse even Eagle Rock, the mansion of Henry Clay Frick, at Pride’s Crossing. After she had looked over the plans Mrs. Leiter went abroad for a visit with her daughter, the countess of Suffolk, in her Scotland home. “I want to occupy the house by the Ist of August,” Mrs. Leiter told her architects. “We’H do our best,” they replied, and now it’s up to them to make good. Estimates of the cost of the Leiter mansioiuhave varied all the way from $500,000 to $1,000,000, and to build and furnish such a palace Jn six months is a task for giants. It will mean employment for hundreds—perhaps a thousand—all the way from excavators to the highest-priced interior decorators.

“LITTLE TIM” DIED POOR.

Wealth Poured In Upon Him, But Wall Street Took It All. Great surprise will be felt by the friends of "Little Tim” Sullivan to learn that, instead of dying a millionaire, as was thought, he left practically nothing, the New York World says. All that his widow and son will receive is $2,000 that is in a bank. There is not another cent available. His widow, however, owns the house in -which she lives at 222 East 12th street. It is valued at SIB,OOO, but is mortgaged. Mrs. Hyde, his sister, owns two pieces of property on 2d avenue, a gift from ‘Little Tim.” These also are .mortgaged. The property was given to Mrs. Hyde when “Little Tim” was on the road to fortune. Much sympathy was expressed sfor the widow when the facts became known. His friends had been hoping that stocks and bonds or deeds for large parcels of real estate would be found in some safe deposit vault, but it is now known positively that the $2,000 in bank is the total of “Little Tim’s” estate. “But what did he do with his money?” everybody will ask. For ten years Sullivan had made money .swiftly and in great amounts, and he had piled up almost a million dollars. He had keen business instinct and was connected with many enterprises which poured efish steadily into his pockets. When, soup-years ago, a SSO---plate banquet was given him, "Little Tim’ was at the zenith of power and wealth. -- ——— But the last two years brought nothing but reverses. He had caught the Wall street fever and he went heavily into stock speculating. He was in the city hall one day eight months ago when a messenger handed a letter from his brokers which informed him that he had lost $240,000. More losses followed quickly and he was unable to strike the winning side again.

Conscientious. I went and took a meatless meal; Much indignation did I feel Against the sordid-minded trust Which prices heavenward did thrust. I always did consider fish A most unpalatable dish, » Yet sacrificed my appetite Unto my sense of what was right Nor do I hanker for things green. Even though they be duly seen With skill prepared in varied ways. And richly daubed with mayonnaise. A dreary feeling o’er me steals; I say I love my meatless meals,. And from such diet shall not stop— But oh, you steak, and oh, you chop! —Town Topics.

The Great "What."

What are we here for— Just to get rich? Just to write novels Or dig in a ditch? Just to he famous Or act in a show, Just to preach sermons Or dig with a hoe? —Detroit Free Press.

High Hopes.

**l see that two lady explorers claim the record for mountain climbing.** “Well, maybe now we can get a fuss worth watching.”—Louisville CourierJournal. There is some dispute as to which is the proper form, “someone’s else,” or "someone else’s." We aren’t sure, but one or the other will apply to most of the hair you see the women wearing ______ Our idea of affluence is having money so abundant you feel like investing part of it in a parrot.

A DISRESPECTFUL ANIMAL.

Miss Caroline and Mi» Matilda Bargle lived in an old-fashioned house with a lean-to shed, the roof of which ran nearly to the ground. Returning from church one day, they noticed on approaching their dwelling that the churchgoers ahead of them paused in passing, and gazed upward with interest and mirth. A moment later they saw why. Their neighbor’s blUy-goat bad escaped, mounted the lean-to to the ridge-pole of the kitchen roof, and with one end of a flaring circus poster streaming banner-like from his jaws, stood outlined boldly against the sky. a chamois on a mountain peak, calmly contemplating the Sabbath procession. Miss Matilda laugihed. Miss Caroline did not. “The abominable beast!” she gasped, deeply scandalized. “I never saw anything so—ao disrespectful!” < The goat is indeed a disrespectful animal. He is no respecter either of property or person, as many an individual held in honor by mankind has ruefully discovered. Admiral Evans has related with pride, as a worthy achievement, his triumph in his earlier days over a refractory goat on ship; board, which refused to yield the milk required for a sick man. After it had baffled everybody whose proper task it was to secure the milk, the captain sent for Evans, and directed him to go and get it. Evans respectfully intimated that he had not supposed "milking goats to be part pf the duty of tk navigating officer;" but the captain thereupon asked it as a favor, and he undertook the task. With a little warm water, much persuasion, some firmness, and a recollection of the ways of certain “darkies” with misbehaving cows, he succeeded, and was unmercifully chaffed by his comrades on his success. Indeed, he was far from happy in it until he had taught his method to a marlneand was assured that he would not have to keep on milking for the rest of the voyage. He was more fortunate than another distinguished man, Horaee Greeley, who was a conspicuous failure as “a milker of goats, although he was bred to the farm and Evans to the sea. When, in accordance with Mrs. Greeley’s theories of diet, goat’s milk was desired for their little son, they attempted to keep a goat In their New York premises, and Mr. Greeley undertook to inilk it. His ignominious tussles with the creature became a source of delighted mirth to his neighbors. One saw from his rear windows the complete overthrow of the great editor in his back yard, while the goat remained victoriously chewing the latest edition of the Tribune, which had fallen from Mr. Greeley’s pocket In th® contest. He relates that he called down to him, gleefully: “Well, Mr. Greeley, nanny, there, hasn’t much respect for editors!” Sitting on his hat, and with one foot in an overturned barrel, Mr. Greeley, in his high, squeaky voice, called back: “No matter, no matter! The man is nothing and the opinions everything. You see she appreciates the Tribune!"

MEXICO'S RICHEST MAN.

Hla Cattle Literally Upon a ThouI aand HUla. General Luis Terrazas is Mexico’s wealthiest man. General Terrazas is 79 years old, the same age as Presl* dent Diaz. The lives of both men have been full of stirring adventure. It was in reward for daring? military service that General Terrazas obtained from the government large gifts of land which placed him upon the road to the great fortune which he now possesses. It is conservatively estimated luat General Terrazas is worth not less than 1209,000,000. His property holdings are chiefly in the state of Chihuahua', but he also has large Investments in other parts of the republic. General Terrazas is the arealtest land and live stock baron in the world. It is said. He owns fifteen ranches in the state of Chihuahua. The ranches embrace an aggregate area o' more than five million acres. For » many years special attention has been given to raising horses upon these ranches. More than five million head of horses are grazing upon the -er-"* razas land. The mule supply for most of Mexico comes from the Terrazas ranches. These animals now number more than one million head and are scattered over the different properties. General Terrazas’ cattle holdings number more than one million head. Several hundren thousand head of goats and sheep graze upon this land. It is said that the choicest grass lands in northern Mexico are embraced in the Terrazas estate. Streams of running water pass through them, and the grass grows luxuriantly the greater part of the year. Some idea of the vastness of these ” landed possessions may be had when it is known that more than ten thousand men are kept constantly looking after the live stock. The services of one thousand men are required to “ride the fences." It is the duty of these fence riders to see that ths wires are kept intact, so that the ..vs stock cannot escape from the pastures. Many thousand miles of wire were used in constructing the boundary fences. More than a score of towns, some of them of considerable size, are upon the ranches. —Kansas. City ovar. It occurs to every husband occasionally that his usefulness aS a citizen is measured, in certain degreed, by ths quantity of kin he cares for. - ! ■ A ■— . Occasionally a man has conceit so well developed he is convinced his teeth ache harder than anyone else’s.