Jasper County Democrat, Volume 1, Number 20, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 27 August 1898 — Page 3

TANGLED SĶEIN

MRS. ALEXANDER

CHAPTER XXIV —(Continued.)

“Very glad to find you at last,” he cried, In his usual genial, pleasant voice, aa he advanced, with outstretched hand; “I am longing to know ” He stopped, silenced and astonished by the aspect of Standish, his stern face, and the sight of his hand closed and resting on the table, qqite irresponsive to Egerton’s friendly gesture. “What is the matter. Standish?” “I will explain. You must hear me without interruption, for.what I am going to say is a sufficient strain on my selfcontrol. I have heard the whole truth which underlay the tragedy in which we have both played a part. I know the brutal villaiuy of your conduct toward your friend’s wife. I know that the suspicions which should have fa’Hcn on you were directed to me, and I have it from Callander himself that he, too, had learned the truth, that he was aware of the debt he owed you, and was resolved to pay rt in full; therefore, you are unfit to touch the hand of a gentleman, to sit in the room with a decent woman! You took" the heart, the will, of a weak, innocent child by falsest strntegem into your iron, pitiless hands, and for the gratification of a base pnssion, destroyed her soul’s life as certainly as her murderer struck her dead!” Whik* ho spoke Egerton’s large, dark eyes grew larger, fiercer, and fixed themselves unflinchingly on those of Standish. “Yes!” he returned, in a hard voice. “This is how, I suppose, a moral, blameless man like yourself looks upon me, and this is how I look upon myself: I found one of the sweetest, fairest creatures my eyes ever rested on, whose indefinable charm fascinated my heart and thrilled my senses as no other woman among the numbers I have known ever did before. I found her tied to a cold, half-indifferent man, whose age. whose dull nature checked and repressed hers. She feared him, she wanted the companionship of a younger, n more sympathetic man! She was formed for me, and all that was needed ty> secure such happiness as mefj and women rarely taste was that she should take courage and buret her bonds. It would have been but a nine days’ woDder, soon forgotten, and I ccwild have given her everything! But she dared not! Heaven never crented an angel purer or more selfdenying than Mabel! Whether right or wrong. I have birt one regret—that I did not succeeds carrying her away from the oppression of her home to the heaven my love could have creates!—from the cruel madman who destroyed her sweet life to the shelter of my arms. My love for her gave me superior rights! I shall never repent or regret my share in the past!” “You, too, are insane!” exclaimed Standish, amazed at hie self-deception and •truck by his allusion to Callander. “Feeling convinced,*' continued Egerton, “from some strange innate conviction that Callander murdered his wife, I forced myself to endure his company rather than give cruel tongues any chance of touching the truth. I bore the bitter reproaches of her sister. I will bear in silence— no breath from me shall ever tarnish the pure name of my beloved dead! But you and I have the honor of Callander’s name, the safety of his life in our hands, and though we shall keep far apart in the future we must gnard it well."

“His honor, yes! for the rest —no earthly judge can touch him now." “What!-’ cried Egerton, with a sudden revulsion of feeling. “Is be dead?” “I have reason to believe so," and Standish told the occurrences of the day as rapidly as he could. “Then that chapter Is finished!” exclaimed Egerton. “We can never meet again as friends; but for the sake of the dead we must not seem enemies. Dorothy may rest satisfied with ber work," he added with a sneer. “She has reason to be satisfied,” returned Standish gravely. “Better mourn over her sister’s early grave than blosh for a faithless wife, a dishonored mothef Egerton stood a moment in silence. Then he said, mere to himself than to Standish, “I shall leave England to-mor-row.” With one steady, defiant look into the face of his accuser he left the room and the house.

CHAPTER XXV. When Standish reached Prince’s Place next morning he found Dorothy alone at the breakfast table; she was looking a little brighter than usual, and, rone to receive him with a welcoming smile. “I am so glad you have come, dear Paul! I am dying to hear how you and Herbert met. If he ia friends with you and trusts to you, he may recover something of his old frame of mind.” “Yes, Dorothy, I will tell you everything,” returned Standish, holding her band bnlf-unconsciously in both his own. “But come into the study; we shall be undisturbed! Have you finfehed your breakfast?” “Oh! yee, quite—Henrietta has n headache, so site did not come down; but she wants to see you before you go.” While Dorothy spoke she led the way Into the study; a small fire was burning, and the window was open upon a neat little garden, where the sunshine of an early spring morning seemed to promise a future crop of grass and flowers. “It is cold still,” said Dorothy, closing the window and turning to Standish, who stood still and silent; something in his face, in his compassionate eyes, struck her heart, “Paul —dear Paul—bow dreadfully ill yon look! Something has happened! Something to Herbert! Tell me 4t once.” “Yes! my dearest Dorothy! We greatly fear—that an accident—bathing—aodden cramp, perhaps ” Standish could hardly form his words. “Oh, Paul! say it at once. Ia he dead?” “Sit down, my child,” drawing her to tlm eofa, and bolding ber hands ia bis.

“We cannot say certainly that he is! but I fear we shall never see him again—l will tell you all ” - Dorothy listened with wide-open dry eye*. “Do you—do yon think he did it himself?” and she clung shuddering to him, as she gasped out the words. “No, certainly not!” returned Standish, promptly. “Why—he ordered breakfast for himself and for me (for be seemed to have expected me), and in his letter he spoke of objects to live for! No, Dorothy—put that thought out of your head.” “He wrote to you, then?” “Yes, very kindly and frankly, just like his old self.” “Ah! how good he was, how kind he was—how gentle, how true —why, why has one bad men been allowed to destroy our happiness? My head feels on fire—” “Think of those poor little children, so unconscious of their desolation,” began Standish, at his wits’ end to draw tears to the poor strained eyes, when the door buret open and Henrietta, her eyes red with weeping and a handkerchief in her Lund, came in. “Oh! Have yon told her? Isn't it too dreadful! Oh. poor, dear Dorothy, how I feel for you! Yet what can your grief be to mine? I loved him all my life, quite all my life,” and sitting down, she covered her face, and 6obbed aloud. “How did you kn*w?” asked Standish. “I did not say anything in my note, to save murdering sleep for one night.” “It was this morning. Collins read it in the papers and told Celestinof and she ran, of course, to me. I kept out of the way in ray room, for I knew I should talk to Dorothy, and I told them to keep all the papers below. Now you must tell me the whole dreadful story.” Standish complied—noticing the constant fits of trembling that shook Dorothy’s slight frame. “Now,” said Henrietta, rising, “I hope you will not mind being left alone, Dorothy, but I am going off almost immediately to catch the mid-day Calais boat. I feel I ought to break the dreadful news to my aunt. In losing her son she loses everything, and nobody seems to think of her.” “I certainly do!” said Standish, grimly. “Had it not been forriier —He stopped. “Oh, yes, I know; she growled and grumbled and made herself disagreeable, but then she meant well. At any rate, Dorothy, I feel I ought to go to Aunt Callander.” “Yea, Henrietta, I don't mind staying with Nurse, I am so fond of her, and Paul will come and see me. I think I will go and lie down; my head and eyes ache dreadfully.” “Well, do. dear. I shall see you settled before I go.” “Good-bye, Paul. How good and kind you always are to me!” At last the gracious tears came, and Dorothy hurried from the room.

“Thank heaven, she can weep at last!” ert«l Standish to Henrietta. “For heaven’s sake, come back as soon as yon can. I feel certain she is going to be ill. But I dare say Mrs. McHugh will take good cave of her." “I declare you don’t seem to have a thought for any one but Dorothy," said Henrietta, impatiently. “Not many,” he replied, tersely. Henrietta stared at him as he left the room. Standish returned to his chambers on his way to the Foreign Office, and found a telegram from Brierly: “Body cast up by tide on western spit. Shall do all that is needful. Come as soon as you can.” Dispatching this by a messenger to Misa Oakeley, Standish perforce continued on his way, that he might clear off some work, and make what arrangement* he could to attend the funeral of bis unfortunate friend.

CHAPTER XXVI. It was all over. The mortal remains of poor Callander were laid to rest beside those of the wife he loved too well. The only members of his family who followed him to the grave were a couple of distant cousins. Mrs. Callander was in a strange state of nervous depression, Henrietta in Peris, Dorothy laid np with a severe attack of low fever, Egerton—no one knew where. Of all the pleasant party that used to assemble at The Knoll, Standish was the solo representative. A few days after he had once more settled to the ordinary routine of his life, he paid a visit to the lawyer at his request, for CoJ. Callander, a few days before his unexpected deat,h, had by a codicil revoked his appointment of Egerton as executor, and named Standish in his place, requesting that so long as Dorothy was unmarried she should remain with his children. After examining the will Standish left the lawyer’s and walked toward his own lodgings in somewhat deep thought. He was uneasy about Dorothy, who had not left her room since the day he had broken the news of Callander’s disappearance to her. She was very weak, Mrs. McHugh reported, and apparently quite content to lie still, without a desire for anything. “What an age it is since I ? ve seen her, and nurse Bays she will not be downstair* a gain for three or four days.” Then his thoughts wandered to Dillon. His silence and non-appearance puzzled Standish; “but I shall not seek him. He will be sure to present himself. He has been well paid so far, but I should like to be sure of his silence. The awful truth must never come out. It is humiliating to think that we are at the mercy of such a scamp as Dillon. But he roust be silenced.” Standish here bailed a hansom and drove to his own abode. As sometimes happens, he found his thoughts had been prophetic. The servant of the house, bearing Ms latofakay ia the lock, cam* out

©f the front parior. “If you trteaae, sir,” presenting a card, “the gentleman said he would cafl again/' “If he does, show him up,” returned Standish, reading the inscriptiftn—“Luke C. Dillon.” “I shall be at home most of the afternoon.” He began a letter to Henrietta, for he was anxious that she should return to her temporary home and to Dorothy. His lucubrations were cut short by the announcement of “Mr. Dillon,” and the detective entered, fresh, cool, self-satis-fied and red as ever. “Thought I’d look yon up,” he began. “You'll nave been wondering what has become of me?” “Well, no! You see. there Is nothing more to do, as ” Standish paused. “Just so! Nothing more to do —and a pretty tidy job I made of it, eh, Mr. Standish?” “I readily acknowledge your remarkable ability,” returned Standish cautiously. “Well, sir, the poor gentleman made away with himself sooner than I expected.” “How do you know he made away with himself?” “Why, Mr. Standish, you and I, who know the whole truth, need not beat the buSh when we are face to face and no witnesses by. I dare say there’s doubt enough as to intention to entitle you to deny it was suicide, but what you> think is another pair of shoes. Between you and merit’s the best thing the poor fellow could have done! His life was over—any life worth living—so he was right to get shut of it.” “We need not discuss the question,” returned Standish haughtily. “We are not likely to agree on abstract questions.” “Like enough!” with careless superiority. “Now, the reason I have called is to show you that I have a good deal of what I believe you top-sawyers call delicate consideration, mixed with a due regard for my own interest.” He paused. “Pray continued. I am much interested.” “You’ll be more so presently. When last you and I had a talk, Mr. Standish, we differed about one or two trifles. One was the amount due to me for information which would certainly lead to the discovery of the murderer, and also for an undertaking to hold my tongue as to the same. Now, on reflection, I decided not to trouble yon. You were not of the family, you could not be exactly a judge of how far their feelings would urge them; so I just crossed over to Paris and asked the old lady, Mrs. Callander, to grant me the honor of gn interview.”

“You did!” cried Standdah. “This is exactly wihat I should have wiahed to have spared her!” “I dare say, but I suspect the old lady would rather do business with me. Anyway, she sa.w me pretty quick. Lord, what a state she was in-—shaking like an aspen! She is just fifteen years older than when I last saw her. She’s dying by inches, of fright. She soon let out that her son had confessed his crime, and that she was ready to pay me any amount if she could only ensure my silence. But I am a man of principle, Mr. Standish, always was; so t kept down the figure, and told her that two thou, was heavy enough to sink the whole business deep down out of sight forever. She was quite amenable jto reason, not to say in a hurry to draw/me a check, and wished to add a trifle for traveling expenses. However, I directed her how the matter was to be done; hot all in a lump, to create suspicion. That’s neither here nor there—any way, 1 have bagged the caah. Fortunately I got the matter settled before the news of the Colonel’s death reached her.” Dillon paused, hut Standisih did not speak. Had he opened his Lipa, he felt aure his words would not have been complimentary. After waiting with expectant eyes, Dillon resumed once more: “I thought it right to tell you this, and as I am just going to start for Australia on a curious lay—to let you know that all’s square. I needn’t tell you, as I am a man of honor, that you may make your minds easy, the family secret is safe with me.” „ With a nod, Dillon left the room, and by an instinotive action, Standish threw up the window as if to breathe purer air.

CHAPTER XXVII. “The day drags on, though storms keep out the sun,” and spring was now far enough advanced to make Standish think it was time that Henrietta Oakeley tcsok Dorothy to Switzerland or North Italy. She bad been full of the scheme at first, but for the last week or two seamed disposed to postpone their departure till Standish determined to go and settle the date at Which they should start for Brussels, a town Dorothy wished to visit. It was a fine, bright Saturday, in mid April, when Standish drove up to the well-known house in Prince’s Place. “Miss Oakeley was not at home,” said the mournful Collins, “but Miss Wynn is in the drawing room. The room looked delightfully home like; the bright sunshine tempered by outside blinds, the atmosphere redolent of violets. Dorothy was at the piano when Standish came in, and rose with a quiet smile to shake hands with him. She looked lees delicately pale than formerly; there was a pale, shell-like, pinky tinge in her cheeks, but her great dark-gray eyes were more pathetic than ever. “I am glad to sc* you at the piano once more, Dorothy,” said Standish. “Yost are a good giTl to try and get over your morbid feelings.” “Yes, I must conquer my dread of hearing music,” she said with a sigh, “though I don’t like to think it is morbid. But if I do not resist, it will take too strong a hold on me. It will not do to be melancholy with those poor dear children.” “No, certainly not. You are looking better, my dear ward,” still holding her hand. ' “I am gaining strength,” she returned, gently withdrawing it. Standish leaned on the end of the sofa, and looked at her with tender regret for the young days which sorrow had so deeply shaded. “It is time you were away in some sunny new place. Where is Henrietta? I am determined to pat matters en train to-day, and we can do nothing decided without her.” T am afraid you will not see Henrietta to-day nor to-morrow either; she has just gone to stay with Lady Kilruddery at Twickenham, till Monday.” “Lady Kilruddery? I did not know she was a friend of Henrietta’s!” “She is going to be more than a friend,” raid Dorothy, with a gleam of her former fan in her eyes. “She told me a wonderful tale this morning. She has accepted Major St. John." “This is indeed a piece of news! I hope she will be happy. She is a good soul, though » little flighty,” said Standish

“We must arrange something for yon, Dorothy,” he said, in an odd, absent manner. “I shall not go for a month or six weeks.” He paused; Dorothy rose up and went to the window, as if to escape his eyes. “Though you will not confide in me, Dorothy,” he resumed in a low, earnest tone, “do you care t 6 hear a confession of —well, I fear I must call it weakness — from me?” “Of course I do,” she said, while an awful thought flashed across her. “Is he going to say he is in love with Henrietta?” She believed he was. “To you I dare say it will seem folly in a man wfap has left youth behind him,"*’ continued Standish, grasping the top of a chair near him with a nervous grip, “but I have fallen, no, rather grown, Into love, deeper and more intense, perhaps, than many a younger fellow could feel, with a girl almost young enough to be my daughter. I see her sweet, sad eyes brighten when I come near, but dare I hope it i« anything beyond the almost filial affection which might be her natural feeling for me, that speaks in them? Shall I ask her to be my wife? Is it not possible that for kindness, gratitude, pity’s sake, she might say Yes, when nature might dictate No? Can I trust her to be true to herself ns well as to me?” “Let me confess, too, before I answer,” returned Dorothy, clasping and twisting her fingers nervously, while her heart beat so fast it stirred the folds of her black dress. “I, too, have been foolish, for I have let myself fall in love with a man older, wiser, better—oh, a thousand times bett«^—than myself, and I have been very unhappy because I was adhamed of loving one who could only think of me as a halfformed, incomplete creature, to whom, however good he might be, I could be only an object of charity in the way of affection or regard. To know he loved m® ” Breath and utterance failed her. “And his name?” cried Standish, imperioutdy, seizing her oold, trembling hands. “Is Paul," whispered Dorothy, as she gave her soft month to his and leaned unresistingly against his breast, locked in a tender, loving embrace. (The end.).

To Fit the Crime.

According to popular belief, fostered by story writers generally, Indians look down upon their wives and make them simply beasts of burden. That the “squaw” is, however, sometimes regarded by them as something more than an e<Biivalent for so many cattle, is shown by the following: A good many years ago a warrior of the Penobscott tribe in New Hampshire got drunk. When he came home he was In a bad humor, and finding his wife in his way he stuck her feet in the fire and burned them. The other Indians discovered this promptly, and tried him by a very summary process. The general opinion was that he should be executed forthwith; but one of t! e elder bucks interposed and gave this advice: “No shoot him; make him live long as squaw live; him carry squaw when she want walk; when squaw die bimeby, then we shoot.” This advice appealed to the other men. and they decided to punish the buck as the old chief suggested. So the buck carried his wife about on his back, whenever the tribe moved, whenever she wanted to go anywhere. However much he disliked the arrangement, he did not dare to ill-treat her, much less to kill her, because his life depended on hers. Whether the woman died first or the man, and whether he was finally pardoned or executed, Is not recorded.

Different Reasons.

In a little Near Hampshire village there lives an old lady who has such a sweet spirit of kindliness toward all the world, that she Is unable to comprehend the entire lack of that spirit In some other people. Not long ago one of her granddaughters, a gay young city girl, was paying her a visit, and one day told her of a ragged and Intoxicated man whom she had seen on the street just before leaving home. “I can’t bear to pass a man like that,” she said, vehemently, at the end of her story. “I know just how ’tis, dear,” said the old lady, laying one of her soft, wrinkled hands ojs the girl’s head. “It does seem as if you’d got to stop and speak with the poor creatures Just a minute, don’t It? I never can bear to pass ’em by without a word; it don’t seem human !” The gay little granddaughter was quite disturbed by this mislntrepretatlon of her words, but she did not undeceive her grandmother as to her meaning. For some reason she felt ashamed.—Youth’s Companion.

The Dreaded Comes to Pass.

“Hush, now; your shoes squeak! Take them off.” “Do you think he is asleep?” “Yes, but don’t breathe. Now wait.” “How infernally dark the house is. Can’t I light up a little?” “Sh-h! Certainly not. He would hear the match. Come.” “Hang the stairs! Ht>w they creak!” “Step softly. Don’t stumble.” “Where «re you?” ~ “Keep quiet. Don’t breathe so loud.” “I—l can’t help it. I can’t hold It In.” “Sh-h-h!” ■ “Hang that Infernal chair!” “Now you’ve gone and done it! The baby is awake.”—Cleveland Plain Dealer.

A Rising Photographer.

“What you doin’ out wid dat camerer to-day,’Rastus?” “I been photergrafln, mammy, o’ course.” ; “Whah you been?” ‘‘Down back of Mr. Simmons’ chicken coop.” “Take anything?" “Jee’ a pa’r o’ pullets. I ler ’em In de kitchen.”—Cleveland Phrtn Dealer. “Hunger stones” have been seen in the Rhine. They appear only when the rlTer Is very low, and the date of their appearance is then cut into them. They are believed to forebode a year of had crops.

BIG CONCERNS UNITE.

hllnols Steal and Minnesota Iron Companies Consolidate. As the result of meetings that have been in progress in New York City for several days, the consolidation of the Minnesota Iron Company and the Illinois Steel Company waa definitely agreed upon. Conference committees of five directors from each company were appointed Wednesday, and following the meeting in Joint session, at which they failed to reach a final understanding as to the basis for consolidation, the matter was referred to n smaller committee. This committee was made up of President D. H. Bacon of the Minnesota Iron Company, W. L. Browa of the Illinois Steel Company and 11. H. Rogers, who is largely interested in both companies. He was on the smaller committee in the character of arbiter. As a result it was decided that the new corporation shall be organized, and that 45 per cent of the capital stock of this new company shall go to the stockholders of the Illinois Steel Compnny and 55 per cent to the stockholders of the Minnesota company. The stock of the old companies will be surrendered. This basis of consolidation was formally agreed to by the representatives es both companies. The details of the incorporation have not yet been decided on, and may not be for several days. The capital stock of the new concern is $29,500,000. Roswell P. Flower, H. P. Rogers, P. M. Flagler, H. P. Porter and Marshall Field of Chicago are among those interested in the consolidated concerns.

MISERY ON BOARD.

Transport Mobile Beaches Montank Point In an Appalling Condition. Another horror ship came to Moutauk Point Friday. Loaded to her decks with sick and well soldiers, the big transport Mobile steamed into Fort Pond bay at sunrise, and when Dr. Magruder, the health officer, boarded her he found there an appalling condition of affairs. As transports go nowadays, the Mobile was in good condition. She had plenty of army rations aboard, and enough in the way of physicians and medicines to care for all that needed attention. The ship itself was in fair sanitary condition, but she was so overcrowded that the sick had scarcely breathing room. Ten men died during the voyage, and the sick grew worse instead of better as the ship approached home. The men, well and sick, were literally starving. They had not been able to retain on their stomachs the tainted meat, beans and hard tack which compose what are known as army rations, and there was absolutely nothing in the way of delicacies on the transport for them. Of the 1,600 men who were crammed into the Mobile and sent on the journey home 300 are seriously ill. OFFICIALS IN MADRID ANGRY. Jandenea to Be Court-Martialed for Forrenderlnjr Manila. A dispatch from Madrid says Government officials are very angry over the surrender of Manila. Urgent instructions were sent through Hong Kong some days ago not to surrender. It was insisted that Gen. Augusti and Qen. Jaudenes should have held out in order to give time for the signing of the protocol. The Government attaches the highest importance to averting the fall of the city before the suspension of hostilities and so strengthening the position of Spain in negotiating the peace treaty.

SAY 3 CITY ONLY IS LOST. Spain Holds that Surrender Does Not Include the Philippines. The Madrid Government has resolved to insist that the capitulation of Manila after the signing of the protocol shall have no effect in the peace negotiations unfavorable to Spain. In any event, the Government holds that the capitulation, having been signed by the commander of the town, does uot entail the surrender of the whole of the Philippines. All the indications are that the peace negotiations will be prolonged. Shot Seventeen Times. At El Caney battle one man with seventeen bullet holes in him was buried by his comrades, who placed a box board at his head with this inscription: “Corp. McCarthy, shot through the body seventeen times leading a charge at the battle of Santiago, July 1, 1898. May his soul rest in peaee!” Cortes Meets in September. A dispatch from Madrid says it is officially announced that the Cortes will assemble in September for the purpose of providing the necessary authorization of the Chambers to the signing of articles of peace on the part of Spain. . * They Fell Over a Precipice. McComb’s battery returned to Ponce, Porto Rico, from Gen. Henry’s command. Heavy rains had fallen, rendering the mountain trail impassable. One gnn and six horses of the battery fell over a precipice and the horses were killed. Telegraphic Brevities. Mrs. Ballington Booth of the American Salvation army has sailed for England. England is getting ready to mobilize her fleet and be prepared to tight Russia and perhaps France. Scores of hogs are dying near Bellefontaine, Ohio, from a disease which farmers say is typhoid fever. A swindler, with bogus checks, is buying horses of farmers in Cumberland County, Pa., for the Government. The citizens of Irene, Tex., and residents of that vicinity have organized a horse thief protective association. The Texas State Horticultural Society enumerates and names 119 Varieties of plums raised in the Lone Star State. California is preparing to establish an experiment station and school of instruction in the grafting and planting of vines. Gov. Barnes of Oklahoma spent a short time in the guard house at Fort Reno the other day for failing to give the countersign. Gold has been found between London and Manchester, oh the line between Clay and Laurel Counties, Ky. A sample has been forwarded to New York for analysis. Late advices from Sitka, Alaska, state that large and extensive coal deposits have been discovered at Whale Bay, on Buranoff Islands, about forty miles from Sitka. On the body of Cnndido D. Peres, one of the victims of the Bourgogne disaster picked up off Sable lsland recently, waa found a draft for 215,000 francs, about $43,000.

INDIANA INCIDEN

RECORD OF EVENTS OI« PAST WEEK, jjj ■ Claims He Killed McCart in BoMh9 sense-Fighting to Break a ,/WBlll Ruined Theatrical Manager'|H| His Own Life. JBB Snow Caught in New Albany^H Isaac Snow, who shot anitinsttMffl killed William H. McCart near Wits arrested in New Albany by Pdß| man Nick Scery. Snow states JflHB was on his way home to surrcnder/Sfl did not know that his victim was BB and was very much surprised vhH learned I hat the shot had lie elaims self-defense and says tkflH Cart waylaid him as he was on home. To uphold his claim of fenso Snow exhibits an ugly hole ti|H| his coat ami vest which was made bullet, which he elaims was fired Suing to Break the WULJI Suit has been begun in court at ColH bus to contest the will of Mrs. Hill, the mysterious Mrs. killed herself in the Colonade Hotel, York, in April. 1860, being the 11. E. Hill, or Senor Zeerega, themHj now in London. She was the of Col. John A. Keith of (’<>lumhusj|H her will, made throe years before ® death, all her property, real and pcrsoH was devised to her husband. Col. resisted the probate of this will anwH defeated in court. It is now souglgH have this will set aside and the one jH latest substituted. H Fred Bradbury 'lakes Poison. fl At Anderson. Fred Bradbury, atyfl time prominent in Elk and thcatricaflH eles. took poison in an endeavor himself. At one time he was consideß wealthy, hut has lost heavily in the|M three years. The climax came two ycl ago, when lie took "Lost, in Egypt/IB extravaganza, out of Chicago and ed in Cincinnati. After taking tbeJß son lie went to an undertaking ment and told the proprietor, a porsoß friend, what lie had done. A doctor called, hut it was announced that ]|H bitty could not live. I Strikers Hold Up a Traill. : I The striking Chicago and Southcastß shop men at Lebanon sidetracked theJH bound passenger train No. 3 to hol<}|fl train for their wages. The road is abß eight months behind with the meal wages. Two', hours after the train JB sidetracked they were offered one montl wages if they would release the train'll! return to work. The offer was aocepm with the understanding that their wftra were to he paid hereafter on the ”sth9 each mont h. The w ages were paid 3B the train was released. J Within Onr Borders. fl Greenshurg is to have a street fair (fl Terre Haute will have a street fair I su muter. ■ John Long, aged 27, was killed bjl Big Four engine at Jonesboro. I At Peru, William Waymire fell intll boiling vat and probably will die. | |

'l'lii' annual reunion of the old sottleraflßß Jay Comity was hold at the Twin At Evansville. Samuel Meyers, 35 old. eoininitied suicide at the Sonthiflßß hospital for John Wilson, aged 35. drowned ariHBB battling near Elkhart. He leaves ’children at Blnffton. Martin Hunt, Andrew Hickle and Smith of Marion ate toadstools for mui|HH| rooms and may die. fls^B For the first time in many years ttfl Jeffersonville saloonkeepers are obejrijjfl|H the Sunday closing law. At New Albany. Blanche Wilson, years old. was burned to death while paring a meal on a gasoline stove. fIHH Thomas \V. Phillips, an old resident real estate dealer of Kokomo, fell deaHEH in the street. He was <l9 years old. 1 Willie o'Malin. aged 15. fell fronjM||ra| freight train at Centerville, and both were cut off. He lived fottr hours. Mhl Kay Mclntyre, a Jeffersonville ship pouter, left a year ago for the He has returned with s<*B,9oo in gold. iHB Bertha Warner of Fort Wayne, a d<fl|§| mestie, was burned to dentil while ing a bed with gasoline, which exploded.: BH Ehlo Reed, aged 9. of Matthews, out both of his eyes by touching off a ftlafHH pencil box filled with powder withl^^^| At Evansville. John Black, a colord^^B barber, killed It is wife by splitting luH[| bead open with an ax. He then went the river and jumped in. He drowned fore lit' could be rescued. Black from Nashville. The Brookville and Metamora ie Company has been sold to the Paper Company of Ivnightstown. SefßH oral buildings suitable for purposes and land adjacent to looks included. The canal has not been since the freshet last March, but now he repaired. The Marion Malleable Iron which has been in the hands of a and stood idle the most of the time two years, is to be started Sept. 1 half-force and a full force put on Oct lflfl When running full 350 men will be ployed. The Fnion National Bank o|H|| Troy, N. Y., was a large creditor of factory when it failed, and they at public sale and will operate it. - -«ljjfHjHJ Several business men of EvansvllflH J have tiled with the Secretary of State tides incorporating the Improved Navigation Company. Recently a of that place completed an airship whichfifi the capitalists believe will be a succeailH§| and they have formed the company a|Hra the purpose of manufacturing the stiips.Bß The capital stock of the concern is $lO,-1 000. The incorporators promise to airships on the market in a few tnouthfc|H|||f W. B. Snyder of Madison estimate* theßl! number of peach trees in the Madison bdjHß at 1,500,000, and that the present ytsjHU will bring more money to grower* ever before. , The “i>clt“ takes in botNjfl|| sides of the river, and two-third* of tlraHl trees are in Kentucky. Mm A wreck on the Wabash Railroad thiraßß miles east of Churubusco killed two majOH and demolished or damaged eight box mtyß loaded with live stock and meat. A taanfjg named Truax. who had charge of a car *flH| poultry, was killed outright. The bodfjjHgl an unknown ti;.:up was also found In thfißi debris. 2