Rensselaer Semi-Weekly Republican, Volume 20, Number 4, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 16 September 1898 — Page 3

DOUBLY WEDDED

BY- CHARLOTTE M. BRAEME.

CHAPTER XlV.—(Continued.) "Can I speak to you, sir?” was Willie’s §rst shot as the squire rose from his ehair and was fumbling in his pockets for the marked catalogue of the sale, his thoughts full of a certain bay colt he knew a neighboring farmer was “sweet Upon.” “Sp£ak to me, lad?” The squire could not find the paper, and was racking his brains as to where he could have put it. “Why, I’m off to the stables; but, if you like to walk down with me Bless me, there’s the thing!” he said, diving into his breeches pocket and drawing out the catalogue. “Here, come along, lad!” he went on, going out in a tremendous hurry. “What is it? Going home?” “Not to the home you mean, squire, certainly!” said Willie. “It depends upon, you, to a certain extent.” The squire, who was going steadily down the path that led through the orchard to the stables, his empty pipe between his teeth and his hands in his pockets, looked round somewhat startled. ' “What are you talking about?” he asked sharply, thinking that when he said to himself the lad was daft he might not have been so far from the mark. “I want your consent to my marriage with your /laughter —Mrs. Drew,” said Willie, slowly and distinctly. “Bless my soul!” exclaimed the squire, eo taken aback that his pipe dropped from his mouth and shivered into pieces on the gravel without his noticing it. “You don’t mean to say as you want to marry a married woman—a widow, I mean —a boy like you? There, hold your tongue like a sensible lad, d’ye hear? I’m not angry,” | he added pacifically, looking askance at j Willie as he took off his hat and mopped his forehead. “I know you’ve got your senses all right enough, except just where the horse —mischievous brute! —kicked you. He’s left a bee in your bonnet,” he went on, with confused compassion. “It’ll be all right when you’re home with your own folks. Only, for mercy’s sake, don’t go talking like that to the women! D’ye bear?” The squire was* forming vague plans of sending for the rector to convey this young madman away at once —away anywhere, out of the women’s way. “He’ll be asking me for madam next, or the child!” he thought.' “I have spoken to Mrs. Drew,” said the young man, quietly, “and she was aware that I was about to ask you this. It is a mere matter of form, of course; she is of age.” . “Upon my word!” cried the squire, his temper rising as he began to recognize that this was something more than a freak of an injured brain. “I wish to heaven the colonel was here to take ye to task for a piece of impudence! Marry you, indeed! Why, my darter, if ever she marries again, ’ll marry her cousin, Colonel Ware —my heir! But what am I thinking of, parleying with a young fellow who comes to me and dares say my Lillian’s a jilt! There’s many a man u’d knock you down, sir, for less than that. But 1 don’t forget you're my guest; only, if you don’t give me your word that this fool’s talk don’t go any further— There —what am I talking of?” he went on, looking bewildered. “You say my only gal—my own gal—has told a boy like you to come and ask me to let you be her husband—my gal, who’s never done anything that wasn’t ■ensible, whose opinion I’d ha’ taken oi\ any subject before that of any man 1 kno*w, girl though she is? You want me to believe she’s been playing fast and loose with her cousin? Why, her marriage with my nephew' the colonel’s been the talk of the country round!” The ■quire paused, breathless. Willie felt a jealous pang. His love for Lillian Drew was too passionate not to be keenly—ay, and even unreasonably—jealous. It was this first attack of jealousy which led him into an unchivalrous action. He took Lillian Drew’s rings from his pocket, and, holding them out, said significantly: “I see, sir, you require proofs that 1 am not a liar!” There lay poor Lillian’s pearl nnd diamond circlet glittering in the sun. The ■quire rk:ognized the ring at once; his expression changed. “Now, sir, perhaps you believe me,” ■aid Willie, repocketiug the rings. “No, sir, I den’t,” blurted out the squire “I remember seeing a play once where a poor innocent girl come nigh to her death through a villuin hiding himself in her room nnd stealing off her arm while she lay asleep a bracelet her husband had given her. I’m not one certainly to say as stage plays and real life’s the same. But what can hnppcn in one can come to happen in the other. I don’t say as you’Ve stolen my gal’s rings—far from it; but I do say—nnd I mean—as I won’t take any man’s word against any of my womenfolk—no, not if it was a king on his throne! And. if you've got a spark of a man left in you after betraying my gal to me by showing me rings which, if she had ’a' given them to you, ought to ’ve been kept sacred between your two selves, you'll come back to the house wi’ me now and let me hear what she's got to say in the matter!” “Willingly,” said Willie, turning and keeping pace with tlie agitated old man. “Why, if it isu't your father back again, and in one of his tantrums!” suid Madam Ware; while Mrs. Drew rose and opened the long window. The squire gave her a look of nngry inquiry; then he turned to his wife. “I’ve come back,” he said. “This youpg gentleman here has scared me finely, coming after me with a rare tale. Egad, my girl, I don’t half like to tell ye! Here!” he went on. turning to Willie, “I’ve no time to spend on follies. Out wi’ the gal’s rings and beg her pardon!” Then he ped short. “ Mrs. Drew bent her head; she was red to the roots of her goldCmbrown hair. So the murder was out! She could imagine that her father had disbelieved Willie till the rings became a necessary piece of evidence. “Why, /on don’t mean to say ns it’s true?” The squire’s blue eye# blazed as

he looked from the young man, who seemed stalwart and strong, despite his late weakness, by the very force and strength of the position he assumed, to Lillian, ashamed, drooping. “Well!” The “Well!” was a concentrated cry of wonder, disgust, disappointment. After one glance of mingled pity and anger at Mrs. Drew—he could not bring himself to look at the young man who had quietly walked in between his hopes of Lillian’s marriage with the colonel and their fulfillment—the squire turned to Madam, who was looking through her glasses, wondering and guessing, and suid: “I leave this precious pair of fools to you. P’r’aps, being a woman, you’ll understand them—l can’t. Here, you two!” he went on. waving his hand toward the eulprits—he could no( bring himself to look at them. “Years ago, Lillian, when you came back hero to the old home, I swore to myself 1 wouldn’t be the one to cross your woman’s whims. I knew you’d have your whims, or you wouldn’t be a woman. Well, 1 never thought you’d get it into your head to marry a boy, or I’d never ha’ swore that oath; but, having swore, I’ve got to stick to it; so I can’t prevent ye, though in my opinion you’re going into the blazin’ fire after being well nigh frizzled to death in the frying-pan. There —I’ve no patience to talk about it! I wash my hands of ye. Madam there can take the matter up if she likes. I’m off” —and he made for the window and strode off, muttering to himself, to the stable.

CHAPTER XV. The colonel was staying at one of the old-fashioned West End hotels. He had rushed across France, had spent a few days in Italy, and feeling the hot sun and the new customs and foreign chatter irritating rather than soothing, had gone on into Switzerland. Here the cold silence of the snow-tipped mountains, as well as the fir woods and the grassy meadows, recalled the Neilgherry Hills, the scene of his first short love season. He wandered about the quiet valleys, and watched the goats brow’sing on the heights far above him. There, listening to the silvery tinkle of the bells in the stillness, he thought of his old love and of the new; he thought of his past barren bachelor life and of the happy future he might spend with his cousin Lillian as his wtife. He would be a father to Lilith, and a son to the squire and Madam. Then, should he and Lillian have a son, the estate would really and truly pass on to the squire’s own' heir. Surely Lillian would consent —it was such a desirable marriage for all parties concerned. Yet, even while Colonel Ware persuaded himself that he would shortly be an engaged man, he had his misgivings. He went in and out of the Swiss inns, and wandered so aimlessly about that he was called “the restless Englishman." At last he started for home all in a hurry, and, directly he arrived in London, telegraphed his town address to Mrs. Drew, adding: “I wait to hear from you.” This was early; London was asleep under a pale blue sky; scarcely a smoking chimney broke the morning clearness of the summer air. Colonel Ware telegraphed from a central office, where the redeyed night clerk was just going off duty, and was surly at being detained; then he drove to the hotel, where he waited for a telegram from Lillian, and revived an old and conquered habit of unlimited bran-dies-and-sodas and cigars. He had still the remnants of imagination hanging about his somewhat ordinary brain, had the colonel; for he fancied how he would open the yellow envelope and read, in that peculiarly careless and jaunty handwriting affected by telegraph clerks: “Come to us as soon as you can”—or somewhat to that effect. “I have a conviction that she will telegraph,” he thought; so he lounged about the hotel in a vugue manner, every now and then gazing out of the window and turning red when he caught sight of a telegraph boy, as he did once or twice on that long summer day, during which he began to think the odor of soup and cutlets more disgusting than the odors of Eastern towns, and the street cries and rattle and traffic of London the,most wearying; clamor he had as yet heard. But no telegram came. That night he scarcely slept. Toward morning he had argued himself into a resigned mood; therefore, when he was awakened by the man with hot water and one letter, he opened the one letter with composure. “I thought so,” he said to himself bitterly. “My luck!” • Lillian wrote:

“You would not accept my answer, dear cousin. How I wish you would never have spoken to me about my second marriage. How am I to tell you what has happened? Let me begin by reminding you of our conversation the evening before you left us. We were speuking of love; and it was while we were speaking, I think, that I felt that I dearly loved some one, and that this some one was not you. At thut moment, if I could have told who that some one was, or what would happen, 1 would have gone away—anywhere—l know that! But he came shortly after, nnd he has asked me to marry him. nnd I am pledged to do so. When I think back upon it all,-it seems sudden, rash, but irrevocable. 1 dislike writing this to you, dear Geoffrey, because I think you will despise me for my weakness; but, remember, you are my nearest nnd representative relative after my parents, therefore I rely npon your countenance of this engagement. If yon really intend to marry, you will find so many better, prettier and younger wives than myself that I almost congratulate you on your escape. lam alwuys “Your affectionate cousin, “LILLIAN DREW. “P. S.—His unme is William Macdonald.” At first the colonel had a good, honest fit of disgust; he was disgusted all round —with himself —as he saw his bronzed face and short gray hair reflected in the glass, Jie could have throttled himsglf for what he called BIS “Idiotic Lillian, for being such a fool as to be in love “at her age, with a grown-up daugh-? ter”—with Heathside Hall and the rec-

tory, for having cajoled him into a silly state—with France and Italy and Switzerland for not having cajoled him out of it—in fact, with the whole world. Then came the inevitable reactionary mood. His feelings of the last few weeks were reversed; he began to think that bachelor life in London was rather a good sort of thing in its way. He ordered his luncheon with epicurean care, then he went to his neglected club, the East Indian, and met one or two old cronies. He dined there, and afterward played whist, winning largely. No man, however rich, objects to victory at cards. The colonel pocketed his winnings with a pleasant sensation that, while cards remained, all the joy in life was not yet over. And as he strolled back to his hotel through the quiet streets he said to himself: “Lucky in cards, unlucky in love,” and that perhaps it was better to cling to cards. You could always leave off playing cards, but if you had a wife and children you could not rid yourself of them, however much bother they might be. “I don’t suppose they could make up a whist-table within a half dozen miles of the Hall,” was his concluding and consolatory reflection as he re-entered the hotel, and the night porter told him that a gentleman had called who seemed vegy anxious to see him. “The card is on your taljle, sir,” he added. When the colonel reached his room, he found it, and read “William Macdonald, Prince’s Square, Bloomsbury.” On the back of the card was a penciled message—“My Dear Sir —I am sorry not to find you. Will you make an appointment to see me? Yours, W. M.” The colonel retired to rest, declaring to himself that he would have nothing further to do with his Cousin Lillian or her future husband, or her affairs. But during the. night he dreamed of the old place. He dreamed of Madam Ware, then the sweet young mother with the baby Lillian in her arms, sitting on the tabouret in the quaint old drawing room at the hall; he dreamed of the sweet-smelling hayloft, and of tumbling in the hay—of his childish escapades, chasing frightened rabbits, defying the turkey-cocks, charging among the sheep—all the jolly-boy-days at Heathside; and, when he awoke, he told himself that there should be no more folly, and that he would be son nnd brother rather than nephew and cousin, but that all evanescent “nonsense,” as he chose to call it, should be smothered there, then, once for all. He wrote a kind little note to Lillian: “My Dear Cousin—Of course you can rely upon my ‘countenance,’ such as it is. Let me know when the wedding is to be. I am too old to be your groom’s ‘best man;’ but I shall hope to be present. Who are your trustees? I will be one with pleasure. Yours always, “GEOFFREY WARE. “N. B.—LoVe to all.” The first time the colonel had surrendered was when he was a subaltern, and had to follow the lead of his supmor officers. Then, as he gave up his sword, he had felt a choking in his throat. On the occasion of this second and more graceful surrender he felt a similar sensation. “All that is over,” he said, as he sealed his letter with his signet. “Now about this fellow” —taking up Willie Macdonald’s card. “The affair is sudden. H’m— I think I ought to look him up and see that Lillian is well done by. It is my duty.” So he took a handsom, and in a quarter of an hour Was in Prince’s Square. The family were at luncheon, the butler informed him, as he showed him into the library. He had scarcely glanced round at the grim old room with the rows of ancient volumes and the one long window commanding a view of the narrow black back gardens, when Willie Macdonald came in. He looked radiant, glowing. He came forward with a half-deferential, half apologetic air, and warmly shook hands with the man whom Lillian had confessed to be a rejected suitor. There was a slight aw'kwardness between them at first; but before ten minutes w'ere over the colonel had rallied from his semi-vex-ation, and they began to talk of the approaching marriage. This was to be in a short time, before the autumnal weather set in.

“Lillian does not believe in showers of wet dead leaves upon a bride,” said Willie; “and I am bound to acquiesce in so innocent a superstition.” Then he asked Colonel Ware if he would be his “best man” and trustee to the marriage settlement. “The last, with all the pleasure in life,” said the colonel; “but for ‘best man’— well, the bridesmaids wouldn’t thank you to introduce an old fogy like myself. No; ask one of your younger friends.” “Somehow I have an objection to any but old friends at a family gathering,” said Macdonald. “However, there is plenty of time to think of minor details.” Then he asked the colonel to conic upstairs and be introduced to Mr. and Mrs. Law and to his mother, and the colonel, full of forebodings as to the future, followed him.

CHAPTER XVI. “Do you happen to remember meeting a young man on the P. and O. steamship Olympia, of the name of Druce, A few years back?” asked Willie Macdonald of Colonel Ware, us they went up the staircase of the house in Prince’s Hquire, past the old windowsoat with the blue cushions. “If you do not”—for the colonel, after searching his memory, shook his head —“he remembers you; for he said, ‘By Jove, if it isn’t Ware!’ when you got out of the hansom, while we were at luncheon.” “Druce, Druce?” repeated the colonel. He fancied that he remembered the name. “A young painter-lives in Paris. Seems to have u name for tropical landscapes. They are certainly very fine, if a little wild in color,” said Willie. “I showed hint a sketch of Lilith's, and he thought great things of it. Ah, there he is!” The drawing roo* door opened, and Mrs. Law came out, followed by a tall young man. He was neither fair nor dark. His skin was tanned, his eyes were a dark hazel, and, when,he tossed aside a thick crop of straight hair of a brownish neutral tint, they gleamed or shone in the light. As he saw Willie nnd the colonel, he drew back; but Geoffrey Ware recognized him as a young fellow traveler who had greatly interested him on his journey outward to India some years back. “You were but a lad then,” said he to Druce, after he had spokeH to Mrs. Law, “but an enthusiastic lud. You were a painter even in those days. Ah, we must meet again, and talk over old tirnps!” There was a half shyness, half sentimentality about this young artist which sometimes clings to the disappointed. He told Colonel Ware, as they stood talking on the staircase, how it was he did not live in Engh»4- J3very one k*d scTkied

to discourage his natural vlfews of color. He had displeased masters, critic* and students in the legitimate or accepted schools. That he had failed in getting his pictures into any of the exhibitions went without saying. “But from the moment I set foot on foreign soil everything was changed,” he said, in a voice which was slightly affected by foreign pronounciation. He had found a painter in Antwerp to give him encouragement. Having means of his own—his father had made a comfortable fortune in India, and had been an old friend of Mr. Law’s —he went to Munich, to Dusseldorf, and other art centers. “And this year his great Nile picture a conspicuous place in the Paris Salon.” said Willie. Then an appointment was made for the colonel to visit Druce’s house and to see some paintings he had with him, and they parted. “Of course, I must go,” he said to Willie the next morning, “although I had an appointment with Gen. Blackett at the club at one.” “Well, we need not stay long at Druce’s,” returned Macdonald; ‘‘and his studio is hardly a stone’s throw out of our road.” Then they talked over the settlements und other business, till the coachman turned sharply out of the main road into a lane where there was no stone pavement, where trees flanked the walls of square gardens, and the houses, few and far between, were of all sizes and shapes. They stopped before a square, red-brick house half hidden by trees. This belonged to Druce’s mother. She met them at the door. A pretty, little old lady in black satin, with a high cap and a huge muslin collar, and with a deep courtesy, informing them that they were welcome, led them into a drawing room still quainter in its bygone fashion than either Heathside Hall or the house in Prince’s Square. Then Druce, the Angle-Frenchman, came in. He wore his white painting suit. He looked bored, or sad. Still he welcomed his guests with a sort of careless grace. “I have been putting m.v pictures in the best 1 light.” he said, “and my mother has been preparing breakfast; so I hope you will stay.” “I want to see your pictures very much,” said the colonel. The artist turned the canvas on the large easel in the center of the room. The picture made two distinct impressions, one upon Macdonald, the other upon the colonel. (To be continued.)

Grant’s Cabin Is Decaying.

Grant’s famous “Log-Cabin Headquarters” is falling to decay in Fairmount Park, Philadelphia, where It was placed at the time of the Centennial. The old building in which the great soldier spent the last months of the war is actually rotting down. On one side a full half-dozen logs are in a state of total collapse. The building is not owned by the city of Philadelphia, but by George H. Stewart Jr., whose father received it as a gift from Grant himself. It was first set up In St. Louis, but was removed from there to its present location in the spring of 1876. It has two rooms and several rough windows, now covered with a wire netting. The Inside has been sheathed with pine boards in o<rder to strengthen it for moving. Otherwise, except for the work of time, It is unchanged. The little building has a remarkable history. When it became too cold to sleep in tents at City Point cabins were built for Grant and his staff. This one was in no way better than the others save that It had two rooms, one of which the general used for a sleeping room and the other for an offiee. In this cabin Grant wrote the orders for Sherman’s march north through the Carolines; there he summoned Sheridan to join the Army of the Potomac for the last great struggle; there he removed Butler after the failure at Fort Fisher; there he wrote the dispatches to Thomas which have caused so much controversy, and there he received the commissioners from Richmond, in March, 1805. Lincoln visited him there.

The Third Commandment.

The famous Congressman, Thaddeus Stevens ,had a colored servant in Washington named Matilda, who one morning smashed a large dish. “What have you broken now, you black idiot?” exclaimed Thad. “ 'Taint de third commandment, bress do Lawd,” replied Matilda. In regard to the above, if any of our readers do uot remember what the third commandment is they had better look it up, and while they are about it they may as well read the whole ten and try to remember them. We are reminded by the above of what was once related to us about a Republican Governor of Ohio. He put in his Thanksgiving proclamation a beautiful quotation from the Bible. A Democratic editor declared that the Governor hud stolen it from some book, for he distinctly remembered seeing It somewhere before. To which a Republican editor replied that the statement was a Democratic liq, for the quotation referred to was purely original with the Governor.—Our Dumb Animals.

King of the Gypsies.

An old gypsy named Rafael has asked the Emperor of Austria to invest him with the dignity of King of the Gypsies, because he can prove his direct descent from King Pluironli. He promises to make the gypsies cease their vagrant liaMtH and become orderly jsstple, fit to enter tin* army.

A Financial Difference.

“The cWlzeii who votes right is Just as valuable as the one who tights.” “Is that so? Well, where does he go to collect his little sl3 a month?” What Is a woman to do? If she follows her husband she “nags" him, and If she doesn’t he is liable to “dlsappear.” _ Family trees originated from genealogy seed. * . Kentuckians to a man are In favor o| war on the water.

BRITAIN IN THE SOUDAN.

Scene of Operations of Gen. Kitchener and His Troops. The map shows that part of the Soudan fn which Gen. Kitchener and his troops are opwbting. Wadi Haifa is 600 miles from the city of Cairo. The ..British forces, supplemented by troops from the native army, have marched up the Nile for two years and have fought several battles with the Mahdists. The advance was made through the cities shown on the tuap, strung along the Nile. At Ferkeh

SCENE OF BRITISH OPERATIONS.

the dervishes received a severe defeat from the Egyptian army. The British captured Suarila and passed on tq Absarat. but their progress was delayed by storms, which destroyed the newly laid railroad. Dongola was occupied on Sept. 22, 1806, and the British loss was little. The army pushed to Khartoum along the green borders of the Nile or over the desert routes indicated by the black lines. From Cairo to Omdurman,. which is built on the banks of the Nile opposite the ruins of Khartoum, the distance is about 1,000 miles. The country nil about, except the green border of the river, is desert.

SEXTON IS COMMANDER.

Chicagoan at the. Head of G. A. R.— Neat Kncampment at Philadelphia. Col. James A. Sexton of Chicago is the new commander-in-chief of the Grand Army of the Republic. He was elected in the national encampment at Cincinnati by a vote of 424 to 214 for his only rival, Col. Albert D. Shaw of Watertown, N. Y.

COL. JAMES A. SEXTON. New Commander-in-Chief G. A. R.

It was a fight between the middle west and the middle east on one side and the extreme border sections on the other, and the former won. The victory carried with it the selection of Philadelphia over Denver as the place for the encampment next year, the vote resulting 395 to 295.

FATAL HEAT IN NEW YORK.

Over 200 Deaths in One Week in the American Metropolis. There have been over 200 deaths traced directly to the heat in New York City the past ten days. At this time of the year the city never underwent the tortures that the snn inflicted upon her ns reflected In the mortality tables. Sunday morning of last week It seemed as if the metropolis was to be turned into a vast crematory and her millions roasted out of existence. The hospitals were filled to overflowing, doctors and nurses were exhausted from almost ceaseless labor and the miserable occupnnts of the tenements fairly gasped for breath. The rush out of town was unprecedented, Coney Island alone absorbing 200,000 people.

The Comic Side OF The News

Aguiualdo should join a Don’t Worry dub. One truth is clear; the “hero of Santligo” is plural. This year will be a record breaker in our exports of Spaniards. The civilian won’t cut much of a figure at the dances this winter. The yellow fever germ, however, is not a party to the peace protocol. Gov. Gen. Augusti now takes his place among those who “also ran.” Spain now has on her hands a large line of urmy mules—including Blanco. The Vesuvius has been pronounced a failure and will be sold, cough and all. It is apparent that Admiral Dewey hasn’t yet learned the art of back pedaling. Blanco should sue Spain for absolute divorce on the ground of desertion and failure to support. It Is now believed that the terrible Temerario has penetrated to the interior of Brazil and climbed a tree. Spanish soldiers in Cuba who return home with their arms should lose no time in learning how to use them. "Pence has her victories,” said the farmer, as he began to harvest the biggest wheat crop in the world’s history. It took only three months to lick Spain, but it probably will take a year or two to finish licking the revenue stamps. Mail com‘m l P f i cn ti° n having been opened again with Spain, Dc Lome might com* hack and write a few more letters.

INDIANA INCIDENTS.

RECORD OF EVENTS OF THE PAST WEEK. A Terre Haute Young Man Released from a Mexican Prison —Woman. Charged with Trying *o Murder Her Daughter-In-Law-Found Dead. Freed from a Mexican Jail. Mre. R. N. Hudson of Terre Haute ha* received a telegram informing her of the release of her son, Morton, who had been held in a Mexican jail on a charge of murder. Several weeks ago Hudson and a companion, when riding into Mexico from their ranch in Texas, met two highwaymen and shot them. Fearing they would not get justice in a Mexican trial, they hid for a day or two, and this fact caused some feeling against them. 'Ex-Secretary of the Navy Thompson, W. R. McKeen, Congressman Faris and Senator Fairbanks enlisted the State Department at Washington in Hudson’s behalf, and Minister Powell Clayton asked the Mexican Government to expedite the case. Hudson and his companion were well treated while in jail. Woman Charged with Murder. Mrs. Sarah Shankenberger was arrested at Frankfort, charged with the murder of her daughter-in-law, Mrs. Ed. Shankenberger. Mrs. Shankenberger died 8 few days ago. She made an ante-mortem statement, expressing the belief that dhe had been systematically poisoned by her mother-in-law. The contents of her stomach were taken to Dr. Hurty of Indianapolis for analysis, and his report wa» that he had found arsenic in deadly quantities. Mrs. Shankenberger accepted her arrest coolly and denies guilt. The dead woman’s husband is a member of the United States navy, on board the cruiser Minneapolis. He has arrived homj. The accused was committed to jail without bail. Widow In Fear of Death. When Mrs. Norton of Terre Haute returned to her home from the .funeral of her husband she found her 17-months-old child dead. When she left the house there was no indication of approaching death. At the time Norton was dying the dial on the side of the court house clock, which could be seen from the house, darkened until the time could not be read. Immediately upon his death the shadow passed away. The widow now believes there is the same fate in store for herself and is prostrated. Found Dead Near His Home. Thomas Stall, 68 years old, a veteran of the civil war, was found dead within fifty feet of his home in Indianapolis. He had been Btruck on the left temple, the blow causing concussion of the brain. The fact that his clothes and hands were free from dirt, that the ground was undisturbed an£ that there were no signs of a struggle suggests the theory that he was murdered elsewhere and that his body was placed near his home by the murderers. Within Our Borders. A $1,660 brick parsonage is being built by the Christian Church at Edinburg. City Clerk Daniel S. Monaghan of Washington has mysteriously disappeared. Oscar Fawber, 26, unmarried, was killed at Kokomo by a Panhandle passenger train. Joseph Heber, a wealthy farmer of Hcxlt township, aged 80 years, died suddenly. t,

Rev. T. J. Shuey, pastor of the Edinburg Christian Church, has resigned and will locate In Seattle, Wash. The new Hotel Davis at Sullivan woe opened Thursday with a reception to one hundred citizens of that city. . A etrnnge man and woman rifled the safe of A. J. Haworth at Greentown, taking SIBO cash and other valuables. Greensburg will hold a big free street fair for six days, beginning Monday, Oct. 3. The Newby family held its annual reunion near Cadiz Sept. 1. Representatives from every town in the county were present. James Mills, a prominent grocer ant dry goodß merchant of Knightstown, has made an assignment for the benefit of his creditors. At Anderson, Thayer Thomas, Forest Burton and Ernest Hunt, 7-year-old boys, have been arrested charged with wholesale horse stealing. C. C. Van Pelt of Monticello, a track walker for the Monon Railroad, was run down and instantly killed at St. John. Invitations had been issued for his marriage. William Bigler of New Albany was probably fatally wounded by Louis Kreut* zer, while squirrel hunting In Franklin township. Kreutzer’s gun was accidentally discharged and twenty-eight shot entered Bigler's right side. Bigler is In a critical condition. The town of Smithville is excited over the work of a number of men who rods in on horseback and demolished the Max saloon, a resort that has created much feeling in that vicinity. The doors were broken down, windows shattered and th* beer and whisky distributed in every direction. Miss Lnura Winslow of Seymour, a domestic in the family of Mrs. Erwin Rosst was stricken totally blind while working about the house. She has not experienced any previous trouble with her eyes, and the blow has almost set her crasy. She has been taken to the home of her mother at Valionia. Webb Cnsto, a well-known Republican, died at Torre Huute'of apoplexy. He had a quarrel with u court official. Casto ae- ' eused a friend of the official of having [ been a traitor to W. R. McKeen at the I time the latter was a candidate for United States Senator In 1890, and in the quarrel struck the official. The excitement brought on the fatal attack. The Dealers’ Distilling Company hea practically closed negotiations for tha erection of a distillery at Hammond to cost $1,000,000, on the site owned by Marcus M. Towle and State Senator Gostlia, whose plant was destroyed a few yoara ago by fire. An excursion train on the Lake Erie and Western Railway was wrecked at Gould’s cut, near Laporte. William Byers .baggageman, was dangerously hart, Harvey Williams, engineer, seriously, and Fireman Stuart slightly injured. The peesengess escaped. The damage is eetie meted et $13,000.