Marshall County Independent, Volume 5, Number 3, Plymouth, Marshall County, 30 December 1898 — Page 3

A FELON'S LOVE.

BY HEXRY T. C 1 1 A PT K R IX. ( Con t i n ucd . ) 13nt the better luck would bo not for Long Jim. Another ".small o:ip" would lollow, and then another. The IM'geou was generally persuaded to take his saddle off. Then he would deeb to step the night, and no farther on the road would he go; while the news spread quickly that LongJim was "on th spree at Sullivan's." Oa the afternoon In question the roach was expected up, and Sullivan had bten several times to the door looking out anxiou ly for its coming-. There was never any telling what profitable guests it might contain, so on mail-nights there was always a decent supper laid in a room away from the common herd in readiness for more distinguished company. 'There's the dust of the coach at last," cried a man. who had also been engaged in watching the distant track. "It's two hours late; I expect they've had a smash." It was nearly dusk when the coa-h pulled up at the door of the inn and discharged its cargo. Horses had to be changed, the fresh ones being already in waiting in the yard, and ten minutes were allowed for the dusty passengers to refresh themselves on lightning rum. Only one person among the twenty passengers got out with the evident intention of remaining at this stage. While the coach remained and the bar was thronged with customers there was a perfect babel of voices and general hubbub and confusion all round. The stranger sat on a bench near the wooden counter. Presently the landlord came in. He had been taking a farewell glance at the departing mail, and was chinking some loose coins in his trousers-pocket as if he were well satisfied with the profits of the last ten miuutes. The dirty kerosene lamp threw a dim light upon the interior cl the den, and Sullivan suddenly remembered Lis guest. Pulling- down his shirt-sleeves, which he usually rolled up above the elbow, he put on his most insinuating manner, as he preceived at a glance that he had no bushman to deal with. Unluckily, however, for the dignity of his deportment, Mr. Sullivan was so luisily intent upon scrutinizing his possible new prey, that he stumbled across a prostrate body in the doorway and fell flat upon his face. "What are you doing, lying about like that, Sam?" he cried indignantly, as he struggled to his feet. "Why. you are drunk! You ought to be ashamed of yourself, tripping people up in that disgraceful way. Out you go! Take your cooler outside if you don't know how to behave yourself;" and seizing tho unresisting sot by the shirt and trousers, he pitched him into the roadway. Then turning to the new arrival in the most affable way, as if nothing unusual bad occurred, he inquired if he would like some supper after his journey. "Thank you," replied the stranger "yes, I should like something to eat, and I don't mind if I had a drop of your best, just for the good of the house." As the man spoke, he showed signs of having had several drops of the "best" already. "Certainly, sir," replied Sullivan, scenting a good customer as a terrier would a rat. Then, rinsing a tumbler in a wooden tub beneath the counter, he proceeded to polish it on a piece of old towel with a very professional air. Turning to the shelves, he paused, and seemed to be deliberating as to what really was his "best." He then took down a bottle with a capsule on it, and, winking confidentially to his gucet, remarked that he thought he would find that prime. The difference between the mixture contained in the bottle and that in the kegs on the shelf was that the former was nearly proof rum, and the latter a concoction of spirits of wine, tobacco, brown sugar, water, and a flavoring only of the real article. Mr. Sullivan kept a few strong sample bottles of the genuine liquid on purpose for reat occasions, and if "two nobblcrs of that failed to start them he did not know what would." Supper seemed to take a long- timo to prepare, and the stranger indulged In another taste or two of the "best." After his second dose conversation flowed more easily; the silence which his highly-respectable attire had cast upon the company began to wear off, and tho landlord relapsed into his usual jovial styl "Do you know a station called Redniont about here?" inquired the stranger presently. "Iledmount? I should think I did." "Mr. Hall, isn't it?" "Yes. Mr. Charles Hall; and a very nice gentleman he is," remarked Sulli van, inwardly thinking that he was tiothing of the sort. "Is it far from here?" "Onlv six riilcs. Follow the creek, and you can'-: miss it. I thought as n0w you migl t be for Redmount. rer tmnq Mr. Hall expects you?" "I don't know whether he does or he ,iCn't " answered the stranger short ly, and with the air of one who fancies he is being pumpeu.

XESFIELD. Just then supper was announced, and Sullivan showed his guest the way into the best parlor. "Now I wonder what lay he's on," he remarked, upon returning to the bar. "New chum. I should say; don't look as if he had ever done any hard work, to judge by his band. Some relation of Mr. Hall's perhaps, though he don't look quite the nob either. Hallo, is that you. Biynes?" he exclaimed, as at that moment Paynes entered the bar. followed by a large kangaroo-dog. "I have come down for the mail bags. Is the coach in yet?" inquired Paynes. "Yes: been in an hour or more. There's the bags on the lloor.' "Thank you."' said Uaynee, picking them up. and making for the door, as if he were about to go. "What, you aren't going off like that, Paynes? "Won't you have a taste of something?" "Xo, thank you all the same I'd rather not." "Well, I won't press yen; married man eh? What made you cr me down for the mail? You must be getting quite a horseman." "I'm better than I used to be, and toke all the riding I can get." "That's a tine dog," said Sullivan, patting the animal on the head; "where did you find him? I declare you are getting quite sporty. I hear you bought two horses too the other day is that true? Perhaps you'll be bringing the missus down some Sunday to have a look at us." "Perhaps." "Py-the-bye. there's a gentleman here, just up by the coach for Redmount." "For Redmount?" echoed Paynes. "Yes." "What's his name?" "I don't know, but I'll eoon find out." While Sullivan was making the in quiry within. Tom Paynes threw the mail-bags across the saddle, and, unhooking his bridle from the post, mounted his horse. CHAPTER X. The night was dark, and the low ve randa prevented the dim light from within shining upon his features as he rat silently in his sad Me. Presently Sullivan tame out, follow ed by the st l anger, who seemed un steady in his gait, and had evidently been drinking. "Are you from Re.lmount etation?" asked the new-comer huskily. "Yes," replied Paynes, looking down, and trying to get a glimpse of the man's features. Put he did not succeed in doing :o. for the stranger stood in the doorway with his back to the light. "Do you know a chap by the name of Robert Luke?" "Luke?" echoed Ba.;ies and Sullivan in one breath. "Yes, Luke Robert Luke. "Why, you both seem quite astonished. I am his brother. William Luke." Sullivan was the first to speak. "If you are Bob Luke's brother, I have bad news to tell you, which you don't appear to have heard." "Pad news: What is it?" He disappeared from Redmount station some months ago. and nothing has ever been heard of him since." "Put he must be somewhere in the neighborhood. I tell you! I have a letter from him in my pocket, and in it he says, if he is not at Redmount when I arrive, he will be somewhere not far off." "When did he write?" asked Sullivan. "Let me see," replied William Luke, pulling some papers out of his breastpocket "it is dated May 25th." "May 20th?" cried Sullivan. "Why. that's the very day on which he disappeared!" "Good heavens, and I have come all this way Put stop, you halloa tell that man to stop! I have a message for Mr. Hall." But, while they were examining the letter near the lamp over the bar, Baynes had started off into the darkness; and the sound of his horse's feet was now scarcely to be heard, as he galloped along the track leading to the station. "That lad'll break his neck riding like that on a dark night and serve him right, too. I've never seen a shilling of his money, and don't suppose I ever shall. Drat such mean beggars. I say!" growled Sullivan, as he stood at tho door looking in the direction Baynes had taken. Mr. Hall was patiently waiting for tho mail when Payne3 rapped at the door. "Why, Paynes, how quick you have been!" he said, taking the bags from him. "I shall have to make you postboy-in-chief. Sullivan's has generally eo great an attraction for the men that they never come back with letters till midnight. I suppose tho coach was in when you got there?" "Yes, sir," replied Paynes; "and I am sorry to say that I have got some bad news." "Indeed! That's unfortunate. Put you have not opened the bag?" "Xo, sir; the driver brought up a letter for me from Sydney. I am afraid I must go down at once." "The driver, Sam Jones?"

"Yes, sir." "Oh, that's a nuisance! I did not know you had friends out there, Tom." "A sister, sir, lately out from home. She is very ill indeed, is expected to die." "Well, the coach will be going down in a few days." "I'm afraid sir, I cannot wait; I must go tonight." "Tonight? Xonsense, man! How do ycu propose to go?" "Cn horseback, sir; I have two horses of my own." "You would get there much faster by the mail." "I I am going to take my wife along with me," said Paynes, in a faltering tone. "Your wife? What next? Surely she is not in a fit condition for a six-hundred-miles' ride!" "We might catch the coach at Meninder. sir." said Paynes. "That would only be a hundred miles to ride; and I think sie can manage that." Mr. Hall looked very much surprised. Paynes, however, remained firm in his intention of leaving, and so at last the squatter reluctantly gave his consent to his departure. "It's the maddest thing I ever heard of," he grumbled. "Taking his wife too, above all things; and I flattered myself we were all comfortably settled and everything was going on nicely! Well, it's always the way." Having paid Paynes his wages and wished him good luck, Mr. Hall suggested the advisability of his leaving his wife in Sydney in some lodgings, and coming back as soon as he had settled his business. "I suppose you will be off at daylight," he said. "Yes, sir," replied Paynes. "He is an energetic fellow, at any rate," thought Mr. Hall, "and ought to get on out there. Plenty of pluck and energy, with a little common sense those are the true elements of success." The men at the station were by no means elated at the news of Paynes' departure. He had made himself pleasant to all, and his good cooking had added to his popularity. However, when the sun shone down upon Paynes' hut tho next morning i: was deserted. The door stood wide open, and, beyond the still smoking logs upon the hearth, there was no signs of its recent inmates. In the course of the morning a man came up from Sullivan's, and said ha wished to speak to Mr. Hall. "Well, what do you want?" asked the squatter sharply, as he eyed him with considerable disfavor, knowing the fellow to be a lazy loafer of tho lowest type. "If you please, sir. there's a gentleman who came up by the coach last night down at Sullivan's. He's had a fit."

"A gentleman down at Sullivan's who has had a fit. eh?" "Yes, sir; he'd been drinking, and last night he was seized with a fit." "A very unusual occurrence at Sullivan's I've no doubt. Well, and what about the gentleman who has been drinking and has had a fit?" "He told me to tell you, sir, that his name is Luke, and that he m a brother of Bob Luke him who disappeared and that he wishes to see you." "Oh, does he? That alters the case. You can tell htm I vi1 1 ride down in the course of the day and see him. When did he have this fit?" "It came on soon after he had his supper, sir," replied the man; "and ho had several more during the night. We had an awful time of it with him, sir, holding him down; and Sullivan was nearly frightened out of his life." "A good job if he and the rest of you loafers had been quite frightened out of your lives," growled Mr. Hall to himself. "Well, tell the man I'll look in at him. He'll not die, drink doesn't kill people so easily worse luck!" (To be Continued.) DON'T DEFACE LETTER BOXES. If You I Von Are Liable to a SI.OOO Fine. Among the United States statutes relative to the postoffice department is one which provides a penalty of $1,000 fine or two years imprisonment for any defacement of letter boxes, says the New York Mail and Express. The law rested in a state of innocuous desuetude for years until it was brought to the attention of Postmaster Hicks of Philadelphia recently and he has been laying plans to enforce it. In a recent trip through the city he discovered that the mail receptacles everywhere were in a shabby condition, dingy with dirt and marred with match scratches innumerable. On his return to the postoffice he wrote to the postmaster-general at Washington asking that he be allowed to make a contract for repainting the receptacles. Word came from Washington to go ahead with the work, and the contract has already been let and the work commenced. It will take about forty days to give the 3,2"0 letter boxes and 300 package receptacles their new coats, but as the work progresses special officers in citizen's clothes are stationed along the route to watch for peopte who dare to disfigure the new paint coats, and a placard has been hung on each of the posts quoting the statute in question and calling the attention of the publie to it. The principal offenders against the sttitute are smokers, who utilize Uncle Sam's property for match scratchers. The paint used is a silvery gray and has been specially prepared. It contains phosphorus in large quantities, which it is hoped will make the boxes so conspicuous at night that people will have no difficulty in finding them. Should the paint prove a shining light it will very likely be adopted all over tho country.

I5AD FOR THE CHUBCH

DR. RYLANCE SAYS IT FOLLOWS WEALTH. His Resignation as Pastor of America's Once lost Aristocratic Cliurcli, Male the Occasion for a Flins at the Wealthy Classes of Society. Rev. Dr. Joseph H. Rylance, who resigned from the pastorate of St. Mark's Protestant Episcopal church. New York, the other day, talked with a reporter about the changes that have taken place on lower Second avenue since he took charge of the church twenty-seven years ago. "In 1S71 the neighborhood was still the residential quarter for wealthy and refined citizens." he said. "St. Mark's place and Clinton place parts of Eighth street were lined with their homes, as were also many of the adjacent streets. A change was even then setting in. which toon became a social rush 'up-town.' Now only here and there can be found a home of the old style below Fourteenth street. "The churches followed wealth. St. Thomas left Broadway and Houston street; St. Bartholomew's left Lafayette place. And so with others of all creeds, with one exception, the Roman Catholic, St. Mark's has not gone because it is an endowed parish. The abandonment of the poorer populous localities by the wealthy churches has

DR. RYLANCE.

entailed upon those that remain an unjust share of the burden of caring for the helpless poor. There ought to be an ecclesiastical clearing-house in New York, through which social obligations could be distributed according to the measure of each church's ability. "Second avenua, from Tenth street to Eighteenth street, is still, however, one of the healthiest and most delightful residential quarters of our city. Mr. Ottendorfer's noble institution near Eighth street library and dispensary and the Hebrew Technical and Industrial schools have been of widely felt service to the neighborhood. "The personnel of St. Mark's church has almost wholly changed in twentyseven years. Fish, Renwick, Remsen, Catlin, the Goelets, Stewart, with crowds of other once conspicuous people, are of it no more. But others not less worthy have come into their places. Some of the old blood remains, but henceforth the church, with its noble chapel and schools on Tompkins square, will have to be a church of the people. "Nearly all my old professional associates are in Paradise Tyng. Cotton, Smith, Washburn and others. The last-named was the greatest man that I have ever known in the clerical ranks of America. The saintly Dyer still lingers with us." lloth End of an Absurdity. From the Washington Star: "We can't keep the Philippines," said the worried-looking man. "We ought to get rid of Porto Rico and even Hawaii. If we go on at this rate, what reason is there to prevent our gradually acquiring Asia, Africa and ultimately the whole of Europe?" "I never thought of that," answered the good-natured friend, with a sudden look of gloom; "and yet by the same sort of argument I'm convinced that we can't give 'em up. I'll admit that territory maybe an embarrassment, but if we go on getting rid of it by starting in with these islands we'll be tempted to turn California adrift and then cut loose from Florida, and the first thing posterity knows we'll have contracted our responsibilities so that we won't have anything at all to worry over except the District of Columbia." No Joke. Bobby "Popper, what is a hostile Indian?" Mr. Ferry "One with some Kood, arable land." m. Cincinnati barber explained to his nisltlv son that a hostile Indian la oo who has some good, arable land.

as if wrapped in slumber and dwelling in the lands of dreams. In the scientific world the discovery of Marini has been known for years, yet recent achievements of the Italian inventor have caused tome of the greatest skeptics to become his most enthusiastic admirers, and some of the foremost medical authorities of Europe, like Sappey, Richard Owen, Billroth and Rokitansky, remained in speechless amazement before the mysterious enigma that sets to naught the funtamental laws of nature herself. Marini is able to impart for a certain length of time an absolutely lifelike condition to a body, keeping the flesh soft and public; after the body has thus gone through a preparatory stage he can either petrify it or turn it. figuratively speaking, into metal without apparently changing its appearance. The dead body practically PRESERVING THE EODY.

By the discovery of Professor El- ; fisio Marini of Italy the human body is actually rendered immortal. Death loses its all-destroying power. The spirit, the soul, leaves the body perhaps to continue in higher sphereshut the body may remain forever, parted only from its soul, from life. Marini's process is not a mere method of embalming. This art, as it is now practiced, may delay, but cannot arrest, decomposition. The method of preserving the body invented by Marini is quite different. The departed remains among us as if he were alive, becomes through this process a statue of bronze or marble. This invention will in a way modify our present ideas of monuments to our famous men, and any nation might start a pantheon ol its famous sons and daughters such as the world has never known. Besides the sentimental features of this discovery there are many reasons of its great value In. other respects. For the criminal police it will be invaluable. Suppose the body of a murdered person is found, the identity of which cannot be established. Photographs are often quite unreliable. The body in itsell can now be kept as evidence not for a few days, but for a number of years if needs be. For the study of anatomy this invention also presents most wonderful possibilities. Its advantages are as manifold as extraordinary. In recent years Marini has preserved quite a number of bodies, and the accompanying illustrations are reproductions of photographs taken from bodies he has prepared. That of the little child represents a little daughter of the inventor himself, who died eleven years ago, but is still resting apparently asleep in a memorial room in the inventor's residence. The other is a picture of the remains of Cardinal San Felice, now peacefully reposing in a AO PROF. MARINI. crypt under the Cathedral of Naples, who died there about two years ago. His body lies in state on a catafalque and appears just as if he were asleep. The Accommodating Trolley Car. From the Boston Traveler: Irate passenger (who has managed to board a trolley car that don't stop) Suppose I had slipped and lost a leg what then? Conductor You wouldn't have to do any more running then. We alters stops for a man with a crutch.

WU,. t.s

MASONIC. PLYMOUTH K I L W INING LODGE, Xo, 149, F. and A.M.; meets first and third Friday evenings of each month. Daniel McDonald,W.M. Tohn Corbcriy, Sec. PLYMOUTH CHAPTER, No 49, R. A. M.; meets second Friday evening of each month. L. Southworth II. P. J. C. Jilson, Sec. PLYMOUTH COMMAND'RY, No 26 K. T.; meets second and fourth Thursday of each month D McDonald E, C.; L.TanncrRec PLYMOUTH CHAPTER, No 26, O. E.S.; meets first and third Tuesdays of each month. Mis Marv L. Thaver V. M.Mrs. G. Aspinall. Sec ODD FELLOWS. AMERICUS LODGE, No. 91 j meets every Thursday evening at their lodge rooms on Michigan st. Ed Campbell N. G. Chas. Shearer Sec KNIGHTS OF PYTHIAS. HYPERION LODGE, No. 117 meets every Monday night in Castle Hall. Lou Aüman C. C. Chas, S. Price K. cf R. and S. FORESTERS. PLYMOUTH COURT, No. 499; meets the second and fourth Friday evenings f each month, in K. of P. hall. Elmer Werriii C. R. Daniel Cramer Sec. HYPERION TEMPLE RATHBONE SISTERS, meets first and third Friday of each month Mrs J. G. Davis, Mrs. Rena Armstrong K. O. T. M. PLYMOUTH TENT, No. 27; meets every Tuesdav evening at K. O. T. M. hall. "Dan. Jacoby, Com. James Hoffman, Record Keeper. L. O. T. M. WIDE AWAKE HIVE, No. 67; meets every Monday night at K. O. T. M. hall on Michigan street. Mrs. Flora J. Ellis, Commander. Bessie Wilkinson, Record Keeper. HIVE NO. 2S; meets every Wednesday evening in K. O. T. M. hall. Mrs. Maggie Fogle, ComM Alma E. Lawrence, Record Keeper. ROYAL ARCANL'M. Meets first and third Wednesday evenings of each month in Simon' hall. Moses M. Lauer, Regent. Francis McCrory, Sec. WOODMEN OP THE WORLD Meets first and third Wednesday evenings of each month in K. of P. hall. C. M. Kasper, C. C. Joe Eich, Clerk a. a. r. MILES IL TIBBETS POST, G. A. R; meets every first and third Monday evenings in Simons hall Dwight L, Dickerson Com,. Charlie Wilcox, Adjt. SONS OF VETERANS. Meets every second and fourth Fri day evenings in G. A. R. hall J. A. Shunk, Captain. Cora B. North, ist Lieut. CHURCHES. PRESB YTER1AN CHURCHPreachiog at 10:30 a. m. and 7 p. m. Sabbath school at noon. Junior Endeavor at 4 p. m. Senior Endeavor at 6 p. m. Prayer meeting every Thursday evening. Teacher's meeting im mediately following. Rev. Thornberry, Pastor. METHODIST-Class meeting every Sunday morning at 11:30 o'clock. Preaching at 10:30 a. m., aud 7:30 p. m. Sunday school at 12 m. Epworth league ai 6:30 p. m. Prayer meeting every Thursday evening at 7:00 p, m. L. S. Smith, pastor. J. W. Wiitfong, class leader. 1). FraDk Redd, Sabbath school superintendent. PROTESTANT EPISCOPAL.-St Thomas' church. Rev. Wm. Wirt Raymond, rector. Soiday services, 10:30 a. ra., 7:30 p. rn. Sunday service, at noon . Services Wednesday evenings at 7:30. Communion on holy days at 10 a. m. CHURCH OF (lOI)-(Jarro and Water sts. Regular services 10:30 a. n., each Sunday. Third Sunday in each month preaching Ly J. L. Wince; fourth Sunday by IL V. Reed. 10:30 Sunday morning and 7:30 Sunday evening. Sunday school at 12 o'elock; Eva lUilsback Supt. Prayer meeting at 7:30 eacb Thursday exening. UNITE 1) BRETIIERN. -Sunday 0:30 a. m., class meeting. 10:30 a. mn and 7:30 p, m., preaching by the pastor. 11:30 a. ra., Sunday School. 5:00 p. in. .1 unior Y . P. C. II. meeting. :00 p. m., Senior Y. 1. C. U. meeting. A cordial invitation is extended to the public. CATHOLIC CHURCII-Church ie held on Sundays as follows: First ruasi at 7:30 a. m., second mass at 10 a. m. Veper8 at 3 p. m. Week day mass at 7:45. Father Moench pastor. ARE YOU ALIVE To the fact that all suocesarul business men credit ttielr success to th liberal uso of printV ink? Why not prolit by their cxyerlcno!