Jasper County Democrat, Volume 1, Number 15, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 23 July 1898 — Page 3

A TANGLED SKEIN

MRS. ALEXANDER.

CHAPTER XVlll—(Continued.) Standish naturally took advantage of •Colonel Callander’s absence in Fordsea to renew his visits to Prince’s Place. He was far too sensible to take offense at the "whims of a man so evidently out of mental harmony, and he was anxious to see as much as he could of his interesting ward, whose mood puzzled and distressed trim. In all her grief and depression she had always spoken to him with the utmost confidence, with a degree of unreserve Which showed how glad she was to open her heart to him. But for the last week she had grown silent, reserved, hesitating —she seemed to think before speaking to trim. One day, on reaching Prince’s Place, he was Shown upstairs to the drawing room, where he found Miss Oakeley. Still further upstairs Dorothy was amusing her little nephew and niece, as the chill February afternoon was too ehoweiy and east-windy to allow of their going out. Mrs. McHugh sat at her needlework, while “auntie” built up card houses for “Boy” to knock down. "And is there no news at all of Mr. Egerton?” asked Nurse, breaking a tolerably long silence, while she threaded her needle. "Mr. Standish had one letter from him, soon after he had reached Valencia, before he had time to do anything, but he has not written since, though be promised to do so.” "Well, to my mind, he is the likeliest man to do any good. Why, that wonderful detective has just been making fools of us.” “Mr. Egerton promised to write again soon, when he had anything to tell. Mr. Standish may have a letter any day." “Perhaps he has to-day. I fancy he has come, too, for I heard the doorbell a few minutes ago.” “Miss Oakeley is in the drawing room,” said Dorothy, without stirring. “Come, now,” said Mrs. McHugh, “my dears. I must clear that table, and get tea. Let Miss Dorothy go; she is wanted down stairs.” “And when you have finished tea, you shall come down, too,” said Dorothy, escaping with some difficulty. Descending slowly, Dorothy found the drawing room ajar, and, entering softly, saw Henrietta and Standish in the recess formed by a bay window, their backs were to her. He held Henrietta’s hand, and, as Dorothy paused, uncertain as to her next movement, Standish exclaimed warmly, “My dear Henrietta, how can I ever thank you enough?” a<nd kissed the hand he held. Dorothy slipped away as noiselessly as she had entered, and went down to a small study, where she selected a book; then, feeling strangely tremulous, she sat down and tried to clear her thoughts from the painful haze which seemed to dim them. Soon, very soon it seemed to her, Collins came in and said, “Miss Oakeley desired me to say that tea is ready, miss.” “Where have you been, Dorothy?” cried the tea-maker. “I have sent up and down to find you. Mr. Standish has a letter from Mr. Egerton, be wanted to show you.”

“There is very little in it.” said Standish. He had shaken hands with his ward, looking kindly and anxiously into her face, and then drawn over a chair for her. “I never expected much from him,” returned Dorothy. • . “He certainly is not sparins/himself,” returned Standish. “Here letter.” Dorothy took it and laid it On the table. Standish watched her with some curiosity, and Henrietta, who seemed in high spirits, launched into a description of her Aunt Callander's unreasonableness about the children, about the trouble they gave when they did go to see her, and the terribly bad system on which they were brought up. Then looking at her watch, she exclaimed: “Oh, I must go out! I promised my aunt to see her to-day. She has a bad cold. Indeed, Ido not think she is at all well. I am quite sorry about her, poor old thing! You can tell Dorothy what we have been talking about, Mr. Standish. Ring the bell, please, and tell Collins to get me a cab. Good-by,” she added to Standish, “I suppose you will be gone by the time I come back.” As soon as they were alone, Standish, after looking very earnestly at Dorothy, sat down on the sofa behind her. “Don’t you care to read the letter?” he asked. “I should prefer hearing its contents from you.” Her voice sounder dull and despondent. “Well, then,” taking it up, “Egerton, after much searching, has found an old muleteer whose nephew, Pedro, is a sailor, and was, the old man thinks, on board a vessel that traded between Cadiz and the Levant, and sometimes went further. The muleteer does not know where he is now, but he appeared last December kt Alicant, and seemed very flush of cash. Since then he has gone to sea again, and his return is problematical." “Yes, I suppose it is—very,” returned Dorothy quietly. “My dear Dorothy, something Is working in your mind which you hide from one. It is tormenting and distressing you. Don’t you think you had better open your heart to me?” “What is it Henrietta told you to tell sne?” “We have been arranging a scheme for Callander and all of you. We propose that When the time for which you took this house is up-—that is in about a fortnight, I think—yon should set up your headquarters in Brussels. There are pictures, and churches, and the field of Waterloo for Callander to meditate upon, and you are en route everywhere. Henrietta, I mean Miss Oakeley, thinks that if you persuade Callander that you cannot travel without him, he will consent to live with you, and then, the children and yourselves Mug constantly with 7 him, will draw him

gradually out of himself. He has sent in his papers and gives up the army, I am sorry to say, though I quite expected it.” “Yes. I think it is the best thing to be done,” she said. “Then you can discuss It with Henrietta this evening, and I shall see you tomorrow, when I hope there will be some tidings of Callander. Good-evening, njy dear ward.” A noisy farewell from the children, and he was gone. “Why did he kiss Henrietta’s hand? and what was it he thanked her for so enthusiastically ?” She went to sleep with this unanswered question preying on her heart.

CHAPTER XIX. They—that is, Mrs. Callander, Henrietta and Dorothy—waited in vain for a letter from the Colonel. , A week had passed and he made no sign. Dorothy was very uneasy, much more so than Henrietta or his mother, neither of whom shared her profound foreboding of evil. To them, his abstraction, his indifference to all, that formerly interested him, the distressed expression of his eyes, sometimes so dull, sometimes wild and reckless, were only marks of natural but unusually deep grief. To Dorothy they were indications of mental anguish too strong for the control of reason. It was, therefore, with a sense of infinite relief she heard Collins tap at the door, as she was changing her' warm out-door drees for one of lighter material, and say, in a brisk, cheerful tone-: “If you please, miss, the Colonel has come. He is in the drawing room.” Callander was sitting by the fire tn a large armchair, his hand on Dolly’s bead. Both children Were standing by him demurely, gazing with wondering, awed eyes at their now half-forgotten father. All seemed silent. “Dear Herbert, I am so delighted to see you!” cried Dorothy, running to greet and embrace him. He smiled absently, and stretched out his hand to her. “Why did you not write? I felt bq anxious about you.” *— “I was quite well. I had nothing to write about” The tete-a-tete which ensued was very trying. Callander sat quite still after the children had retired, answering the observations she forced herself to make from time to time with monosyllables, or the briefest possible sentences. She thought dinner would never be announced. How Dorothy longed for Standish! She was growing nervots—foolishly nervous. When they returned to the drawing room Callander again took the large easy chair. Dorothy began some needlework, and sat opposite him, in token of her readiness to converse if he was so inclined. He kept silence so long that Dorothy thought he was asleep. Suddenly he sat upright and exclaimed: “You are not like her, and yet you are. You haven’t her beauty!” “I know that well, Herbert,” she returned, hoping he would relieve his mind by talking of the dear dead. “Still she looks out of your eyes at me sometimes, Dorothy, and then I don’t know whether I hate or love you! You used to be like a daughter to me, and you are a good, kind girl. You must always take care of those poor children!" “Yes, I will, to the best of my ability,” said Dorothy, with difficultyokeeping back her tears. < - “You must never let my mother get hold of them, mind that.” “I hope you will stay with them, and order what is to be done for them. As to Mrs. Callander, why are you so unkind to her? She is very unhappy.” “Because I cannot forget how unkind she was to my lost darling,” he returned sternly. “And you should not forget it either! I can never forgive her. And she wants to make out that I am weak— weak in brain! She sent that fellow, Dillon, to dog my steps down at Fordsea!” “Indeed, I am sure she did not. He often goes down to Eastport in his endless search for traces of—of- ” She hesitated. “Of the murderer,” added Callander, with composure. “Ay, he may search. But I—l alone must punish, I tell you. I may wait, but I will have my revenge by my own hand!” Dorothy felt uneasy, but she wisely avoided contradicting him, and so kept silence. Callander, now fully roused, stood up and began to pace the room, “What has Egerton been doing? Has he written?” “Yes —he thinks be has found some traces.” “Ha, ha, ha!” laughed Callander—rather a terrible laugh. “He will never find the murderer away there!—never!” And he paused opposite her. “At all events, he said, in his letter to Paul Standish ——” “Standish!" repeated Callander, with a deadly, bitter tone, one that made the word sound like a curse. “Why do you speak his name to me? I wonder you dare!” And be resumed his restless walk. This seemed to Dorothy an opportunity for asking an explanation of his mysterious dislike to her guardian. “I do not know why I should not name him, Herbert. Tell me why you dislike him. It might relieve your mind.” “Tell you?” he repeated, "tell you! I have sometimes wished to tell you, that you might, know what a subtle devil ’’ He broke off, and muttered something to himself. "There,” he resumed, “you loved her well. You would shield her memory well.” “I would do anything for her sake—anything to comfort you!” cried Dorothy, unable to restrain her tears. Callander paced the room in silence for another minute, then ho suddenly sat down beside her on the sofa, which her usual seat, and, taking both her hands, which he held tightly, he said, low and quick: “I will tell you all —all! I

found it out just before—we lost her. It was my 'mother pointed it out! But before that, before I left India, there was a change, a faint change in her letters. You would not have seen it—no one would have seen it but a lover such as I was! I felt and knew that something had come between us.” Dorothy sat listening, motionless, with curdling blood. Had he indeed discovered the truth? “My mother wrote that Standish almost lived with her and you, but I would not notice her indhuations. Then I came home, and I kfiew there was a change. Still, she had some love for me, but he was always at her ear! He would not let her come away with me alone! That would have made all right. So I determined to have his life; but she—she ” His voice failed him, and he paused, panting, big drops standing on his brow. “Paul Standish!” cried Dorothy, wrenching her hands from him, all her force and courage returning. “Paul Standish is as innocent as I am. What —who put this horrible idea into your bead? You did not believe your mother, who told you this horrible lie?” “It is no lie!” be said, with a moan like that of a creature tn pain. “I saw it in her own Waiting.” “She never wrote anything to Paul Standish which the whole world might not see. Who has imposed upon you?” "Ah! you do not know. Neither she nor he would speak of such evil things to you. But, Dorothy, I will have patience, subtilty as profound as his, and patience. I will punish him yet, cruelly, unrelenting. I feel my hand on his throat now!” and he clenched both hie own, looking awfully wild, the fine, strong face she knew so well distorted by passion to a demon-like expression. Dorothy felt as if Paul’s doom was fixed, that nothing could save him. She —she only could undeceive the wretched man before her. “You are wrong. Herbert!” she said, bravely and steadily. “I can prove that you are wrong; I can prove that Mabel always loved you, that you do Paul Standish the greatest injustice. Will you wait here for a few minutes, and will you read what I bring you?” Callander, checked and astonished by her words and impressive manner, stopped, silent and still. “What do you mean?”'he stammered. “Yon shall see!” she cried, and flew away upstairs to where in the secret drawer of her old dressing case, inclosed in a blank envelope, lay the letter she had never been able to deliver into Egerton’s hands. AD fear, all hesitation was gone. What matter any danger to herself from the fury of the excited man she had left behind? Wbat matter the desperate retri but ion she might bring down on the real offender? Everything was secondary to the desire of proving that Mabel was really true to her husband, that Standish was innocent of tbe hideous treachery attributed to him—all consequences were swallowed up in this overpowering motive. (To be continued.!

WONDERS OF HUDSON BAY.

It Drains Three Million Square Miles of Territory. Hudson’s bay, the Mediterranean of Canada, is the most striking geographical feature of North America. Hudson bay is half as large as tbe Mediterranean sea—it drains a vast territory, 8,000,000 square miles •in area—vast rivers flow into it from the south, east, and west; flowing from places as distant as the plains of Minnesota and Dakota. In its water live undisturbed fish and oil-bearing mammals, along its shores are fine harbors, in the country surrounding it are rich mineral deposits and fine farming lands. But it is a portion destitute of human habitation. White whales, walruses, big as elephants, and fur-bearing seals disport themselves undisturbed in the water. On land there is wealth, with no one to take it away. “But all this is the arctic regions,” you say. “Not a bit of it,” says Dr. Bell, director of the geological survey. Moose bay is in a latitude further south than London, and the more northern portion of Hudson bay is at about the same latitude as the north of Scotland. The climate also compares very favorably with that of the same latitude in other portions of the globe. The bay does not freeze across in winter—the winter conditions there being similar to those of the Gulf of St. Lawrence, and navigation is possible during four or possibly five months of the year. The Hudson bay route would bring the great Northwest as near to Europe as the city of Quebec, It offers perhaps the best route to the Yukon district, and is the national route to the great oil fields of the Northwest. Gold is there—specimens of gold-bearing quartz have been brought into the Hudson bay .stations—pyrites containing gold have been found by the geological survey party, and alluvial gold has been found, according to Mr. William Ogilvie, in the valleys. Gypsum, iron, copper, silver, and lead are abundantly indicated in many places. Were the country within the arctic circle the quality of the soil would be of no consequence. But there are scores of millions of acres upon which profitable stock-raising and farming may be carried on, and It is important to note that the soil observed is rich and productive. In the district south of James bay, in a district as large as all England, the total population at present is one Scotchman and thirty or forty families of Indians.—Montreal (Canada) Witness.

Boyle Roche Outdone.

“He is an enemy to both kingdoms,” said Sir Boyle Roche, “who wishes to diminish the brotherly affections of the two sister countries!” Equally noteworthy with this was the highly creditable, sentiment'uttered by the Governor of one of the United States at the opening of an Industrial exhibition recently. “Let us hope,” said he, “that the occasion will be an entering wedge which will bring about a more perfect unity between North and South!” The Pgpe is a remarkably good chess player; In fact, It Is only on rare occasions that he Is defeated at the game. There Is one priest In Rome who is usually the Pope’s adversary. The priest —Father Gfella—has played chest with him for thirty-two years past

FARM AND GARDEN

Hay Rack for Cheep.

The Breeder’s Gazette gives a description of this sheep feeding rack. The animals cannot rub the wool off their necks, trying to get at the feed; neither will the seed, dust and rubbish fall into the wool, and they cannot pull the hay down and mess it over so they win not eat it afterward. The rack is easily made. With it you can have lambs running about the feed lot without their getting on top of the hay, which ordinarily cannot be done. Make the frame out of 2 by 6’s edgewise. For block at bottom saw 2by 6’s diagonally. Nail a 12-inch board along the bottom lengthwise; then take three 10-lnch boards and nail up tbe front Set bottom 10-lnch board level with the 12-inch or about one inch higher. Make the rack with a frame about every four feet omitting crosspiece except at the

SHEEP HAY RACK.

center, and this is not necessary unless you are going to move them about For rack to feed only one side make 18 Inches between studs. You can make the sides separate and set them against light posts. Do not nail, but wire so you can raise them.

Destruction of Weeds. A few hours’ work in spraying or dusting plants in order to destroy insects or disease may not only save crops this year, but also greatly lessen the work of next season. But such labor must be applied at the right time. The same with weeds, which produce millions of seeds. When they are allowed to grow until nearly matured before they are destroyed they take from the land the plant food that should sustain the crops grown thereon. If tbe destruction of weeds is done when they are small, they are then out of the way before they can harin the crops and the soil. When the farmer postpones his attack on weeds be incurs the risk of not being able to eradicate them at some critical period of their existence, and the pests will then have done damage by depriving the crop of moisture and plant food when the season is most propitious for growth. It is the lessening of the work next year that should always be kept in view. Profit on the farm is not made in a year, but in a series of years. Work done at a loss to-day mtiy bring a fair profit during the next'season. The most profitable work is spraying to destroy Insects and the keeping down of weeds and grass. —Philadelphia Record.

A Grain Room. On many farms not a little grain is fed to the stock. Where no room is set apart in the stable for a grain, or feed, room a good deal of inconvenience, find much extra work, Is experienced. In most barns it is not convenient to provide a feed room from the present accommodations. In such a case a small room can well be added to the stable

A GRAIN BOOM.

In the manner shown in the cut—making the addition where It can be conveniently reached from the interior. The door is seen to be placed high up In this addition, and opening upon a small platform. A load of grain can thbs be backed up to the door and very easily unloaded, no lifting being required. Such an added room would be of small cost, and would save many steps and much valuable time in daily bringing feed from a distant building. —American Agriculturist. The Manure Heap. The best Indication of a good farmer Is the condition of the manure. The manure heap Is the savings bank of the farm and any material added to It Is the storage of plant food for the crops of next year. When the farmer Is too busy to look after the manure In summer, and allows It to “fire-fang” or be bleached away by rains he Is entailing a greater loss on himself than can be regained by his labor on some other portion of the farm. Robin-Roosts. For many years naturalists like Audubon and Wilson studied and wrote of this bird before It was known that there were “robin-roosts”, as well as "pigeon-roosts.” Only within the last

few years was the fact brought out that a bird more familiarly known than the passenger pigeon followed this mode of spending the night although it adopted spring instead of fall for massing by hundreds in a high, sheltered wood for a night’s protection from cold, or because it is the period before pairing time, or for some other reason at. present beyond man’s ken. With what stealth must this wellknown and mueh-observed bird have found its way in such numbers to tbe same patch of timber night after night in the early months of the year, according to locality, coming from all directions so swiftly that a secreted observer could not count, keeping up a chatter that could be heard for a long distance, until the last bird, somewhat belated, perhaps, found shelter in the darkening grove, when all became silent as thousands of wings were folded to rest.—Lippincott’s Magazine.

Is It Possible? That the barn roof leaks? That tools were left where last used? That fences are never repaired until stock gets out? That there are no shade trees in the pasture field? That sheep and cockle burrs are allowed in the same field? That all grain bags are not marked with your initials in ink? That the supply of fuel for winter is not being hauled, while the roads are good? That shoats are allowed the privilege of a ten-acre field without rings? That the same variety of wheat has been on tbe farm for fifteen years? That an abundance of small fruit for family use is not raised on the farm? That noxious weeds, such as ox-eye daisy, white top, etc., are allowed to go to seed? That stock is turned out where there is barbed-wire fence, without first leading up to it? That many farmers got rid of their sheep a year or so ago, and have none on the premises to-day? That farmers do not realize that we have heretofore had periods of depression, and that better times are coming. —Stockman and Farmer.

Taking Inventory on the Farm. It is doubtful if there is a merchant in the entire United States, doing a thousand dollars’ worth of business in a year, who does not begin immediately after the first of January to take an account of stock, and by an account of stock on hand, his sales, his bills payable, and his bills receivable, he is able to determine whether the business has been done during the last year at a profit or at a loss. He then proceeds to lay the plans for the conduct of his business in the year to come. The merchant who does not do this, and Is known not to do this, will speedily lose credit among the bankers and business men with whom he deals, and would be considered in imminent danger of bankruptcy, for only in this way can he find out where he stands financially. We doubt if there is one farmer who at the first of January or at any other period of the year regularly takes stock, casts up his accounts, and finds out the amount of profit or loss.—Field and Farm.

Guinea Fowls on Farms. Every farmer ought to have a few guinea fowls to add to the variety of feathered life on the farm. They are also a good protection against such depredators as hawks and other enemies of young chickens, their loud cries on the approach of any such Intruders giving signa! to the weaker fowl to make its escape. Guineas are a rather wild fowl and will not bear confinement well. It Is not best to keep them unless there is good range. The hens are great layers, but will mostly steal their nests, and will bring off very large broods. The young guinea fowl are very hardy, and not so subject to disease as are other fowl. Beneficial Insects. It is not every insect that should be regarded as an enemy, even if it has some offensive habits or is villainous looking. The hornet is a pest, and sting is tormenting. But it destroys thousands of slugs on vegetables and plants. The lion beetle is so repulsive that the first impulse of nearly everybody is to crush it. But that, too, is predatory, and most of its victims are the enemies of the farmer and gardener. The lady bug is beautiful itself, and it also feeds on plant lice and the eggs of the potato beetle and other enemies of tbe orchardist and farmer.

Care of the Lawn. Be careful In mowing the lawn during very dry weather. If the grass plot Is kept too close the grass may die out should there be a lack of sufficient moisture. The cutting of grass weakens the plant at first, as every successive growth Is in the direction of producing seed. Any plant can be destroyed if kept Cut close to the ground. It may make new growth several times, but sooner or later becomes exhausted. When moisture Is abundant, however, the plant has better opportunities to renew its growth'. Hog Feeding. Experiments to determine the value of corn and wheat for producing pork show that to produce one pound of live pork with shelled corn costs 1.49 cents, and to produce one pound of pork from dry wheat the cost Is 4.57 cents. ’The cost varies, owing to the difference in the prices of the foods. Pork from a mixture of equal parts of corn and wheat costs 2.97 cents. Corn Is therefore much the cheaper grain for producing pork. Points in Fertilizing. If fertiliser is broadcasted over the field and well harrowed in, It will not be necessary to apply anything to the hills of corn. Keep the grass and weeds down and the corn roots will Dot bs long in finding the plant food.

RECORD OF THE WEEK

INDIANA INCIDENTS TEIIILUH TOLD. I ■ s Girl Rejected Him and He Burned Herl Father’s Barn—Heiress Elopes with® U • r.- f an Elderly Coachman—Railway Ce**S lision— Wages to Be Reduced. 1 A Barn Burner Caught. w ;.'Ujl Dan Rollins’ barn, near the west end oil Lawrence County, was burned and hiM house stoned by parties unknown to hint I He had no reason to believe that UF had I an enemy. A neighbor who went over to I the fire on his horana some distance from tor burning barn, anil on going to his horse after the fire, was I surprised to find that his saddle had beenfj cut almost to pieces. The bloodhounds at I Orleans were sent for and taken to the | place of the outrage, and, after being"! placed on the track, followed it to the | house of a young man named Inman, and | singled him out from the rest of the fam- 1 ily. Inman had been a suitor for the 4 hand of Miss Mary Roilins, a handsome ( young daughter of Mr. Rollins, but she | failed to respond to bis attentions and was keeping company with another young man when ha called, but did not go in.. His jealousy prompted him to move on and fire the barn and stone the house. He was arrested and at a preliminary trial confessed the deed, giving the reason as ' stated above. Heiress Weds a Coachman. )|l Greendale is stirred up by the elopement of Hiram B. Skidmore, a widower of 44, and the father of four children, with Inez M. Garst, the 17-year-old granddaughter of Col. Ezra G. Hayes, one of • the most prominent citizens of the coun- , ty. Skidmore was coachman for Jacob Bauer, the wealthy- manufacturer, and Miss Garst, who is an heiress, was a visitor at his palatial home and almost daily rode about the city, while the expert coachman handled the horses. The license was procured and Rev. Mr. Watkins of Guilford performed the marriage ceremony. The girl bride will inherit considerable property through her deceased ' mother when she becomes of lawful age.

Trust Will Cut Wages. C. H. Garvey, auditor of the trust, and L. H. Gedge, manager of the big trust plants at Anderson, which employ 900 men, retired from the wire nail trust. It is reliably understood others have been bought out by the principal trust capitalists and that Secretary Buffington may also retire. The trust will adopt a tight system. They will work for every dollar possible, and to that end the present fair wages of the thousand workmen in their many plants over the country will be cut deep at once. A few capitalists now control the American production absolutely. Collision on the Wabash.* There was a bad wreck at Williamsport, when a gravel train and the west-bound local freight, each drawn by a mogul engine and running at a high rate of speed, collided head on. Both locomotives were almost entirely destroyed and the cars were piled up, blockading the track for many hours. The trouble resulted from a misunderstanding of a time order. The engine crews escaped by jumping. The company loss will be $5,000.

Within Onr Borders. William H. Blue of Merom was found dead in bed. At Franklin, W. T. Hougham, Jr., was killed by a runaway team. At North Judson, burglars enteretPthe office of H. E. White and secured $4,000 in notes. George Sweetser, vice-president of the Marion bank, has been appointed receiver of the Indiana Traction Company. At Jeffersonville, Delaney Perry, once wealthy, has applied to the trustees to be admitted to the county poor asylum. The men at the shops of the Vandalia system have been put on eight hours, instead of nine, and with a half holiday on Saturday. Bishop Bowman presided over a meeting at New Albany in honor of the eightyfirst anniversary of the dedication of Wesley chapel, the oldest church in Indiana. A tramp tore down an American flag at a farm house east of Avilla and beat the farmer’s wife, who remonstrated. . He was attacked by enraged citizens and nearly killed. Moxie Clune, held for burglary, made nn ineffectual attempt to escape jail at Jeffersonville by cutting through the walls. Clune is an old offender, known throughout the country. The unknown man who was murdered and robbed in Pima, Ariz.. a few days ago has been identified as N. F. Allen, formerly a wealthy resident of Rockville, where his/ather is a well-known banker. Mrs. William Yocotn and daughter, Mrs. E. Leachman, residing in Dick Johnson township, met with probably a fatal accident in a runaway. Mrs. Yocom jumped and escaped serious injuries, but Mrs. Leachman remained in the vehicle until it overturned, fracturing her skull and injuring her internally. A young man, frightfully cut and battered. was found lying beside the Chicago and Erie Railroad track near Rochester. He was taken to a dwelling and a surgeon pronounced his injuries serious. For hours he was unconscious, and when at last he partially regained his senses he said that bis name was James Stonaker, son of Israel Stonaker of Monterey, and had been pushed off a rapidly moving freight train. A murder was committed at New Washington. A dispute arose between Henry Rhetts and William McCoy over some . trifling matter, when McCoy attacked. Rhetts and beat hhn to death. It is alleged by friends of Rhetts that the father and brother of McCoy stood by and saw* the murder committed without making an attempt to interfere. Much bitter feel* ing has been aroused. Three huge Standard Oil kerosene tanks, together with an office building at the company’s yards in Columbus, Were destroyed by fire. The oil destroyed was worth $2,000 and the building SI,OOO. No insurance. Engineer J. D. Fields and Fireman : Frank Mcßee of Frankfort were killed at Bilverwood. The men were switching on; the side track and the rails spread, pre-' cipitating the engine down a 35-foot embankment. Both were pinioned by tho engine, and it was three hours before the wrecking crew MKceeded ta