Rensselaer Gazette, Volume 2, Number 8, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 23 June 1858 — THE SHERIFF'S STORY. [ARTICLE]

THE SHERIFF'S STORY.

In tho summer of 185—, while traveling on business in the wilderness of Northern > Maine, we stopped one afternoon in the lit- ; tie villiage of P .which nestles cosily! in the shade of Saddleback Mountain. After supper, while enjoying our cigar upon the “porch,” we noticed a peculiar-looking scar upon the landlord’s cheek. Thinking “thereby hangs a tale,” we asked him to inform us the cause of so unusual a mark lie professed himself perfectly willing to relate the story; and, drawing a chair close to our side, commenced: , In my young days I was Sheriff in the county in which I then resided. In the spring of 1839 a murder was committed in a neighboring town, under circumstances.of unusual atrocity. The deed was done by a Frenchman, whose name was- Liste. He, with his wife, lived in a log-cabin in the wooSs, Some ten miles from where the deed was committed, and had long been suspected as a thief and secreter of stolen goods. I was sent to secure him, and you may he •ure I did not relish the job much, but go I must. As I had ten miles to ride, I started early, and arrived at the cabin at about, noon. Tying my horse to a tree, I went up to the door and knocked. After considerable delay in unfastening more than was necessary, the door was ope-txed by his wife, who demanded, -in no very pleasant tone, what I wanted? “Is Vour husband at home?” I asked. “No; he has gone to the villiage, and will not he back till hight,” she answered. “Then I will wait tilT he comes home,” said I; and, without giving her time to reply, stepped into the room. One glance around convinced me the murderer was at home. A rifle stood in the cor-ner ot the room, which he had been cleanin|r as I drove up, for the water was even drjqfping from the tube. I said nothing, however, but sat down and began to take a survey of the rooms -He could not have left while I stood at the door.without my seeing him; so lie must either have left before I came, or else, which I considered more likely, was concealed about the cabin. My eyes fell upon a rag-mat lying on the floor, and, taking that up, the mystery was explained. A trapdoor was undernearth, which probably led to the hole, or cellar, in which he was concealed. I lifted the door up, and was looking for some means of descending, when a push from the “gude wife” sent me down without the use of a ladder, and the door was.suddenly shut. I tell you, sir, I was in no enviable position, in a dark cellar with a murdeVer—for he was there, as 4 very soon found out. Thinking I heard him move, I took a step in the direction of the sound. In an in-! stant there was a flash—a }oud report—and j I felt a burning pain in mv cheek, I saw him by the flash *of the pistol, crouched in the further corner of the cellar. Mv blood was up, and I made a spring and closed with him, YYe had a, sharp tussle for a few moments; but at length I managed to get the, bracelets on his wrists, and then it was all ’ over. Meanwhile his wife was above, standing on the door, and asking every now and then, “Have you fixed him, Jem?” Putting my hand upon the man’s mouth,! and imitating his voice'as near as I could, I told her I had, and ordered her to lead the Sheriff’s horse into the shed. My ruse succeeded perfectly; and, as she left the room, I ordered him up the ladder; and, by using the argument of "a pistol, persuaded him to go. Once up, the rest was easy. His wife was some astonished when she came in; but seeing I was well armed, made no resistance. The man was sullen, and refused to speak; but I did not care for that. I put him on the horse, and lejid the horse two miles through the woods, to the nearest neighbors. Securing the assistance of one | of the “men folks,” I had him securely j lodged in the jail that night, and he is now j in the States Prison serving his sentence—' imprisonment for life. But that wap the j hardest fight that I ever had; and I shall carry the mark of it to my grave. So ends the Sheriff’s story.