Rensselaer Semi-Weekly Republican, Volume 22, Number 105, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 20 September 1901 — Page 7

The Doctor’s Dilemma

CHAPTER XXll.—(Continued.) That same evening I received a note, desiring me to go and see him Immediately. He was looking brighter and better than in the morning, and an odd smile played now and then about his face as he talked to me, after having desired Mrs. Foster to-leave us alone together. “Mark!” he said, “I have not the slightest reason to doubt Olivia's death, except your own opinion to the contrary, which Is founded upon reasons of which I know nothing. But acting on the supposition that she may be still alive, I am quite willing to enter into negotiations with her. I suppose it must be through you.” “It must,” I answered, “and it cannot be at present. You will have to wait for some months, perhaps, whilst I pursue my search for her. Ido not know where she is any more than you do.” A vivid gleam crossed his face at these words, but whether of incredulity or satisfaction I could not tell. “But suppose I die in the meantime?” he objected. “I do not know that I might not leave you in your present position,” I said at last; “it may be I am acting from an over-strained sense of duty. But if you will give me a formal deed protecting her from yourself, I am willing to advance the funds necessary to remove you to purer air, and more open quarters than these. A deed of separation, which both of you must sign, can be drawn up, and receive your signature. There will be no doubt as to getting hers, when we find her. But that may be some months hence, as I said. Still I will run the risk.”” “For her sake?” he said, with a sneer. “For her sake, simply,” I answered; “I will employ a lawyer to draw up the deed, and as soon as you sign it I will advance the money you require. My treatment of your disease I shad begin at once; that falls under my duty as your doctor; but I warn you that fresh air and freedom from agitation are almost, if not positively, essential to its success. The sooner you secure these for yourself, the better your chance.” Some further conversation passed between us, as to the stipulations to be insisted upon, and the division of the yearly income from Olivia’s property, for I would not agree to her alienating any portion of it. Foster wished to drive a hard bargain, still with that odd smile on his face; and it was after much discussion that we came to an agreement. I had the deed drawn up by a lawyer, who warned me that if Foster sued for a restitution of his rights they would be enforced. But I hoped that when Olivia was found she would have some evidence in her own favor, which would deter him from carrying the case into court. The deed was signed by Foster, and left in my charge till Olivia’s signature could be obtained.

As soon as the deed was secured, I had ray patient removed from Bellringer street to some apartments in Fulham, near to Dr. Senior, whose interest in the ease was now almost equal to my own. Here I could visit him every day. Never had any sufferer, under the highest and wealthiest ranks, greater care and science expended upon him than Bichard Foster. The progress of his recovery was slow, but it was sure. I felt that it would be so from the first. Day by day I watched the pallid hue of sickness upon his face changing into a more natural tone. I saw his strength coming back by slight but steady degrees. The malady was forced to retreat into its most hidden citadel, where it might lurk as a prisoner, but not dwell as a destroyer, for many years to come. There was no triumph to me in this, as there would have been had my patient been any one else. The cure aroused much interest among my colleagues, and made my name more known. But what was that to me? As long as this man lived, Olivia was doomed to a lonely and friendless life. L tried to look into the future for her, and saw it stretch out into long, dreary years. I wondered where she would find a home. Could I persuade Johanna to receive her into her pleasant dwelling, which would become so lonely to her when Captain Carey had moved into Julia’s house in St. Peterport? That was the best pian I could form. CHAPTER XXIII. Julia’s marriage arrangements were going on speedily. There was something j ironical to me in the chance that made me so often the witness of them. We were so merely cousins again, that she | discussed her purchases and displayed them before me, as if there had never | been any notion between us of keeping house together. Once more I assisted in the choice of a wedding dress, for the one made a year before was said to be yellow and old-fashioned. But this time Julia did not insist upon having white satin. A dainty tint of grey was considered more suitable. Captain Carey en joyed the purchase with the rapture 1 had failed to experience. The wedding was fixed to take place the last week in July, a fortnight earlier than the time proposed; it was also a. fortnight earlier than the date I was booking forward to most anxiously, when, if ever, news would reach Tardif from Olivia. Dr. Senior had agreed with me that Foster was sufficiently advanced on the road to recovery to be removed from Fulham to the better air of' the south coast. We required Mrs. Foster to write us fully, three times n week, every variation she might, observe in his health. After that we started them off to a quiet village in Sussex. I breathed more freely when they were out of my daily sphere of duty. But before they went a hint of treachery reached me, which put me doubly on my guard. One morning, when Jack and I were at breakfast, Simmons, the cabby, was announced. He was a favorite with Jack, who bade the servant show him in. “Nothing amiss with your wife or the brats, t hope?" said Jack. "No, Dr. John, no,” he answered, "there ain't anything amiss with them,

By Hesba Stretton

I except being too many of ’em p’raps, and my old woman won't own to that. But there’s something/ in the wind as concern! Dr. Dobry, so I thought I’d better, come and give you a hint of it.” “Very good, Simmons,” said Jack. “You recollect taking ray cab to Gray’s Inn Road about this time last year, when I showed up so green, don’t you?” he askejl. 1 “To be sure,” I said. “Well, doctors," he continued, “the very last Monday as ever was, a lady walks slowly along the stand, eyeing us all very hard, but taking no heed of any of ’em, till she catches sight of me. The lady comes along very slowly—she looks hard at me—she nods her head, as much as to say, ‘You, and your cab, and your horse are what I’m on the lookout for;’ and I gets down, opens the door, and sees her in quite comfortable. Says she, ‘Drive me to Messrs. Scott and Brown, in Gray’s Inn Road.” “No!” I ejaculated. “Yes, doctors,” replied Simmons. “ ‘Drive me,’ she says, ‘to Messrs. Scott and Brown, Gray’s Inn Road.’ Of course I knew the name again; I was vexed enough the last time I were there, at showing myself so green. I looks hard at her. A very fine make of a woman, with hair and eyes as black as coals, and a impudent look on her face somehow. She told me to wait for her in the street; and directly after she goes in there comes down the gent I had seen before, with a pen behind his ear. He looks very hard at me, and me at him. Says he, ‘I think I have seen your face before, my man,’ Very civil; as civil as a orange, as folks say. ‘I think you have,’ I says. ‘Could you step upstairs for a minute or two?’ says he, very polite; ‘l’ll find a boy to take charge of your horse.’ And he slips a arf-crown into my hand, quite pleasant.” “So you went im of course?” said aJck. “Doctors,” he answered solemnly, “I did go in. There’s nothing to be said against that. The lady is sitting sh a orfiee upstairs, talking to another gent, with hair and eyes like hers, as black as coals, and the same look of brass on his face. All three of ’em looked a little

under the weather. ‘What s your name, my man?' asked the black gent. ‘Water, I says. ‘And where do you live?’ he says, taking me serious. ‘ln Queer street,’ I says, with a little wink to show ’em I were up to a trick or two. They all three larfed a little among themselves, but not in a pleasant sort of way. Then the gent begins again. ‘My good fellow,’ he says, ‘we want you to give us a little information that ’ud be of use to us, and we are willing to pay you handsome for it. It can’t do you any harm, nor nobody else, for it’s only a matter of business. You’re-not above taking ten shillings for a bit of useful information?’ ‘Not by no manner of means,’ I says.” “Go on,” I said impatiently. “Jest so, doctors,” he continued, “but this time I was minding iny*P’s and Q s. ‘You know Dr. Senior, of Brook street?’ he says. ‘The old doctor’’ I says; ‘he’s retired out of town.’ ‘No,’ he says, ‘nor the young doctor neither; but there's another of ’em, isn’t there?’ ‘Dr. Dobry? I says. ‘Yes,’ he says, *he often takes your cab, my friend?’ ‘First one uni then the other,’ I says, ‘sometimes Dr. John and sometimes Dr. Dobry. They re as thick as brothers, and thicker.' Good friends of yours?’ he says. ‘Well,’ says I, ‘they take my cab when they can have it: but there’s not much friendship, as 1 gpe, in that. It’s the best cab and horse on the stand. Dr. John’s pretty fair, but the other’s no great favorite of mine.’ ‘Ah’’ he says." Simmons’ face was illuminated with delight, and he winked sportively at us. “It were all flummery, doctors,” he said. “I jest see them setting a trap, nnd I wanted to have a finger jn it. ‘Ah!’ he says, ‘all we want to know, but we do want to know that very parti, ular, is where you drive Dr. Dobry to the oitenest. He’s going to borrow money from us, nnd we’d like to find out something about his habits. You know where he goes in your cab.’ ‘Of course I do,’ I says; ‘I drove him and Dr. John here niah a twelvemonth ago. The other gent took my number down, and knew where to look for me when you wanted me.’ •You’re a clever fellow, 1 he says. So my old woman thinks,' I says. ‘And you’d be glad to earn a little more for your old woman?’ he says. ‘Try me,' I sa.\s. ‘Well, then.’ says he, ‘here’s a offer for you. If you’ll bring us word where he spends his spnre time, we’ll give you ten shillings; and if it turns out of any use to us, well make it five pound/ ‘Very good,’ I says. ‘You've not got anj information to tell us at once? he Bays. Well, no.’ I says, ‘but I’ll keep my eye

“OFF WITH HIM TO THE CARRIAGE.”

upon him now.’ ’Stop,* he says, as l were going away; ‘they keep a carriage, of course?’ ‘Of course,’ I says; ‘what’s the good of a doctor that hasn’t a carriage and pair?’ ‘Do they use it at night?’ says he. ‘Not often,’ says I; ‘they take a cab; mine if it’s on the stand.’ ‘Very good,’ he says; ‘good morning, my friend.’ So I come away, and drives back again to the stand.” “And you left the lady there?” I asked, with no doubt in my mind that it was Mrs. Foster. “Yes, doctor,” he answered, “talking away like a poll-parrot with the blsckhaired gent. That were last Monday; to-day’s Friday, and this morning tfeere comes this bit of a note to me a* our house. That’s what’s brought m<r here at this time, doctors.” He gave the note into Jack’s bands; and he, after glancing at it, passed it on to me. The contents were simply these words: “James Simmons is requested to call at Gray’s Inn Road, at 6:30 Friday evening.” The handwriting struck me as one I had seen and noticed before. I scanned it more closely for a minute or two; then a glimmering of light began to dawn upon my memory. Could it be? I felt almost sure it was. In another minute I was persuaded that it was the same hand as that which had written the letter announcing Olivia’s death. Probably if I could see the penmanship of the other partner, I should find it to be identical with that of the medical certificate which had accompanied the letter. “Leave this note with me, Simmons,” I said, giving him half a crown in exchange for it. I was satisfied now that the papers had been forged, but not with Olivia’s connivance. Was Foster himself a party to it? Or had Mrs. Foster alone, with the aid of these friends or relatives of hers, plotted and carried out the scheme, leaving him in ignorance and doubt like my own? I crossed in the mail steamer to Guernsey, on a Monday night, as the wedding was to take place at an early hour on Wednesday morning, in time for Captain Carey and Julia to catch the boat to England. The ceremony was to be solemnized at seven. Under these circumstances there could be no formal wedding breakfast, a matter not much to be regretted. Captain Carey and I were standing! at the altar of the old church some minutes before the bridal procession appeared. He looked pale, but wound up to a high pitch of resolute courage. The church was nearly full of eager spectators, all of whom I had known from my childhood. Far back, half sheltered by a pillar, I saw the white head and handsome face of my father, with Kate Daltrey by his side. At length Julia appeared, pale like the bridegroom, but dignified and prepossessing. She did not glance at me; she evidently gave no thought to me. That was well, and as it should be.

Yet there was a pang in it—reason as I Would, there was a pang in it for me I should have liked her to glance once at me, with a troubled and dimmed eye. I should have liked a shade upon her face, as I wrote my name below heru in the register. But there was nothing of the kind. She gave me the kiss, which I demanded as her cousin Martin, without embarrassment, and after that she put her hand again upon the bridegroom’s arm and marched off with him to the carriage. A whole host of us accompanied the bridal pair to the pier, and saw them start off on their wedding trip, with a pyramid of bouquets before then, on the deck of the steamer. We ran ryund to the lighthouse, and waved out k*ts and handkerchiefs as long as they were in sight. That duty done, the rest of the day was our own. It was almost midnight the next day when I reached Brook street, where I found Jack expecting my return. A letter was waiting for me, directed in queer, crabbed handwriting, and posted in Jersey a week before. It had been so long on the road in consequence of the bad penmanship of the address. I opened it carelessly as I answered Jack s first inquiries; but the instant I sa.w the signature I held up my hand to silence him. It was fr*m Tardif. This is a translation: “Dear Doctor anJ Friend —This day I received a letter from mam’zelle; quite a little letter with only a few lines in it. She says, ‘Come to be. My husbtnd has found me; he is here. 1 have no friends but you and one other, and I cannot send for him. You said you would come to me whenever I wanted you. I have not time to write more. I am in a little village called Ville-en-bois, between Granville and Noireau. Come to the house of the cure; I am there.’ "Behold, I am gone, dear monsieur. 1 write this in my bo.it, for we are crossing to Jersey to catclrthe steamboat to Granville. To-morrow evening I shall be in Ville-en-bols. Will you learn the law of France about this affair? They any the code binds a woman to follow her husband wherever he goes. At Loudon you can learn anything. Believe me, 1 will protect mam'zelle, or 1 should say madame, at the loss of my life. Your devoted . TARDIF.” “I must go!” I exclaimed, about to rash oat of the house. “Where?” cried Jack. “To Olivia.” I answered: “that villain, that scoundrel has hunted her out tat Normandy. Read that, Jack. Let me 00.”

“Stay!” he said; “there is no chine* whatever of going so late as this. Let us think for a few minutes.” But at that moment a furious peal of the bell rang through the house. We both ran into the hall. The servant had Just opened the door, and a telegraph clerk stood on the steps, with a telegram, which he thrust into bis hands. It was directed to me. I tore it open. “From Jean Grimont, Granville, to Dr. Dobfee, Brook street, London.” I did not know any Jean Grimont of Granville; it was the name of a stranger to me. A message was written underneath in Borman patois, but so misspelt and garsled in its transmission that I could not make out the sense of it. The only wordp I was sure about were “mam'zelle,” “roster,” “Tardif,” and “a Vagonie.” Who was on the point of death I could not tall. (To be continued.!

WASPS BENEFIT THE FIGS

Insects Are Necessary to the Fruit's Successful Cultivation. The long-continued effort to produce the Smyrna fig of commerce in California has been crooned with suciross. The history of the experiment is interesting. It began over twenty years ago with importation of cuttings from Mia Minor. Figs have been produced from these and other imported cuttings, but they were not the famous white fig of commerce. The credit of producing the latter in California belongs to Geo. C. Roeding of Fresno. Until this summer every true Smyrna fig tree planted in California which bore fruit failed to, mature it; the figs were unfertilized and withered and dropped. It was finally discovered that the fertilization of this fig depended upon the service of the blastophaga wasp, whose habitat is in the capri, or wild fig. The latter was imported and thrived amazingly, but the blastophaga did not accompany It. Special Importations of the wasp followed, but it thrived only for a season on the capri fig and then disappeared. It was assumed that it could not survive our winters. Last year the Department of Agriculture took the matter in hand. A fresh consignment was Imported and its care intrusted to Mr. Roeding. Last. April the young iußect colony emerged in full force from the first capri cot, entered the second, emerged again, and then took possession of the Smyrna fig trees, the fruit on which was ready for fertilization. Mr. Roeding reports that this experiment has been perfectly successful. A ton of the fruit has been picked from tiis trees and the entire crop will yield five or six tons more. Mr. Roeding believes that the blastophaga has come to stay and he expects that California will be enriched soon with another industry.

Rogues of Wall Street.

The rogues of Wall street flourish. They are thieving brokers, promoters of mining schemes and disreputable speculators. Said a thieving broker on one occasion:y‘lf the Postoftice Department would .let me alone I would have to hire a cart to carry down my maneyladen mail. All you have to do is to appeal to the cupidity of the public. 'Promise 6 per cent dividends on a firstclass security and you can’t do business; but promise 56 per cent on a. fake and you can get rich.” Investigation proved this statement to be true. He is of the same class as the tipster fraud, who advertises that he knows exactly which stocks will advance and those that are going to decline. For $5 a week he will tell you precisely how to make a fortune. He ad-, vertises in strange ways, using a ridiculous code. For example; “Hit Kangaroo for a jump of 20 points," etc. This interpreted means buy a certain stock for an advance of ?20 a share. Such men are swindlers. Quite as contemptible as the man with a fake gold, silver, zinc, copper or oil mining scheme. He first buys a mining prospect for say $2,500 and then organizes a $500,000 or $1,000,000 company under the laws of New Jersey or West Virginia for say $2,500 more. The shares have an alleged par value of $1 each, but he offers them for 37c each from an elaborately furnished office where he poses as the fiscal agent. The rogue, who selects the broker as hit victim is more plentiful than the brokers are willing to confess. —World’s Work.

Tulkinghorn’s House to Disappear.

Yet another famous house has to make way for street improvements. It is the mansion in Lineoln’s-inn-flelda adjoining Sardinia street, and was oullt* from the designs of Inigo Jones for the Earl of Lindsey. The right- ! hand room on the first floor of the house was chosen by Dickens for the scene of the assassination of Mr. Tulkinghom, Sir Leicester Dedlock’s lawyer, In “Bleak House.” Already, however, the painted ceiling, with the Roman soldier pointing his truncheon to »he body of the dead solicitor, has disappeared under a coat of whitewash, wickedly applied a few years ago.— liondon Globe.

His Words Indorsed.

It was the worst domestic storm they had ever encountered. “You don’t deserve even hanging," h* said as he left the house. “I deserve It better than you do!” she ««nt after him as a parting shot—Philadelphia Times.

A Monument for Virgil.

Mantua, after nearly twenty centuries, has remembered that It Is the birthplace of Virgil, and set to work to erect a monument to Its great poet. The sum of $20,000 has been raised and artists are called on to send In plan* la competition.

London’s Cemeteries.

London has twenty-one municipal cemeteries, and ten which are owned by private companies.

SOUTHERN PRESS ON McKINLEY.

Not since the foundation of the government has there been a more universally popular chief executive.—San An.onlo Express. Of all men in public life he was one .hat it would have been thought was hast likely to excite the enmity of any man or set of men.—Austin Statesman. His Is not a nature to estrange even his bitterest opponents, much less to make personal enemies, and for that reason everybody who knew him was his lriend. —New Orleans Dally States. In winning and deserving the trust and esteem of the whole people, through his public acts and private intercourse, he has never been excelled, if equaled, lay any Presidential predecessor.—Vicksburg Herald. The stric ken President is perhaps the most popular man that ever filled the Presidential office. At every turn he has consulted public opinion, and he has never set up his judgment against it.—Birmingham Age-Herald. What heart but the heart of a madman or an Insensate beast would be hard enough to even contemplate a deadly attack on one so gentle, so democratic, so “little given to the exercise of power?”—Chattanooga Times. He has won for himself the esteem, respect, and even the love of the whole people of this country, and in foreign lands he is justly counted' as oufi of the wisest statesmen America has ever produced.—Baltimore American. There is less of partisan feeling and sectional spirit in him than in any occupant of the White House since the war. No man has ever made a more earnest, honest effort to be President of the whole people.—Nashville American. His kindly persohal character has made him popular even with his political opponents, and as Americans they resent with unspeakable indignation and horror the act of the assassin and unite in the prayer that his life may be preserved to his friends and country.—Baltimore Sun. Never has there been so general a demonstration of sorrow over the illness of any ruler or potentate, and we are pleased that from all the world come messages of sympathy both for the President and his devoted wife, and for their grief-stricken fellow countrymen.—Mobile Register. With great occasions, great qualities he showed, not with strange exertion, not for display, but with that ease that indicated the nature of a man expandying with opportunity beyond the limits which the passions of the passing hour had fixed for a partisan leader; a partisan leader no longer, but the captain of a self-governing republic.—Louisville Post. •

After the election, and by his evident desire to do what he"could for the South, the old Democratic stronghold came to regard him more than any other Republican as the President of the whole United States. He guided the affairs of the nation with an almost Impartial hand, and to-day he Is regarded as one of the very liest Presidents since the time of Washington.—Natchez Democrat. / I He has grown steadily in the Presidential office, and he will go down in m history with our greatest executives. I That this kindly gentleman and broadminded statesman should be the victim of a vile attempt at assassination is a sore trial on the patience of the American people; and when the news came, and it was said that the President had a fighting chance for life, we do not doubt that millions of prayers went ur for his -recovery.—Memphis Commercial. The American people, without distinction of party, feel outraged at the murderous assault, and they also feel that there is no adequate punishment to fit the crime of the would-be assassin. The wretch who fired the bullets that found lodgment in the President’s body administered a blow to every American who lotes his country and its institutions, and if he have one single sympathizer in all this broad land It were at the risk of his life to express his sentiments. —Arkansas Gazette. If there is one man in all America whom his countrymen would have thought safe from such an assault that man is William McKinley. Upright In character, courteous, gentle, lovable in disposition and manner, he could'have had no personal enemies. And he car--1 ried into public life the same traits that endeared him to those who knew him in his private relations. An executive who regarded his office as representative of the people, by whom his authority was conferred, he ever sought to find anu obey their will, and In maintaining his most cherished political convictions it was always with perfect consideration toward his party opponents. There has been In his conduct no more provocation for political than for personal rancor and enmity.—Louisville CourierJournal. What prouder moment could have happened in the life 6f any man? The spirit of Lincoln, speaking through McKinley, has pronounced the long delayed words of reconciliation. As the President of the United States Mr. McKinley’s name was honored in every home, and his love was shared by every man. In the smoke of foreign conflict and of victory the most prominent object to him was the reconciliation of an estranged people. He placed a Lee by a Grant, and .commissioned a Confederate general to the same rank lb the regular army. More fortunate than Lin coin, he lived long enough after the con filet to witness the fruits of restored brotherhood; to see Confederate vying with Federal in devotion to the flag, and to see the young sons of the South closest around the staff.—Atlanta Constitution.

RECORD OF THE WEEK

INDIANA INCIDENTS TERSELY TOLD. Farmer Cat* Hi* Son-In-Law'* Head Off and Kill* Himself—The Secret of Farmer'* Treasure Trove Discovered —Mia* O'Hara Aaaia Kidnaped. Buck Whaler, a farmer, killed his son-in-law, EliaS Burns, and cut his head off with an ax, tried to kill his own wife, and after his brother-in-law hud refused to send a bullet into his heart shot himself and may die. The tragedy was enacted near Folsomville. Wheeler recently got a divorce from his wife and the court gave her one-half of his farm and permitted him to keep the other half. The divorced wife has been making her home with her son-in-law. Wheeler, it is said, has been insanely jealous of his son-in-law. The other morning about 9 o’clock l Wheeler went to the tobacco patch where Burns was working, drew a revolver and fired four shots, all of which took effect. Wheeler then left his son-in-law in the field for dead and went to the house. He told Mrs. Burns her husband wanted her to bring him a glass of water and his tobacco knife. Mrs. Burns started for the field and Wheeler drew his revolver and tried to kill his divorced wife. The weapon failed to go off. He looked in the direction of the tobacco patch and saw Burns stagger into the lahe and his wife trying to help him to the house. Wheeler picked up an ax, ran down the lane till he met Burns, when he knocked I him down and then struck him again on , the neck-.with, the ax, severing the head 1 from the body. Wheeler then hastened to the home of his brother-in-law and earnestly besought him to kill him before the sheriff arrived. On being refused the murderere went to the barnyard and blew out bis brains. Hiding Place of Gold Fonni. W’hen Ira Smith, a Terre Haute farmer, was killed by a bolt of lightning two months ago he carried to the grave with him the secret of the hiding place of not less than $5,000 in gold. He was a peculiar man, who did not tell even the members of his family about his financial affairs, and was afraid of the banks. It had been known for years that he waa hiding money on the farm. He often said that he would disclose the secret on his deathbed, but he did not take into account the chance of suddea death. He was at work in a field when killed. For weeks after his death search was made for the money, but the search was finally abandoned. The other day a son-in-law was loading corn from an old crib into a wagon when his shovel struck something hard. It was found to be an old wagon box with rags filling the opening. These were pulled out, and following them, came a stream of the yellow coins. In all there was $1,600. The search fpr the remainder of the hidden wealth has been resumed.

Aliasing Girl Returns Home. Miss Reba O’Hara of Bnshton, 111., who says she was abducted from the home of her grandfather in Kokomo, was fqund at Oakford and returned. She says she was riding her wheel when she was seized and thrust into a closed carriage and gagged. She was driven to Goldsmith, then to Oakford, where she was rescued. When found her clothing, face and hands were covered with blood. She declares she was robbed of SSO. The abductors have not been found. Her is a wealthy broomcorn dealer of Bnshton. , State News in Brief. Washington has fifty cases of typhoid fever. People scared. W. E. Cox, Jasper, district 3 chairmap. has announced himself for Congress against W. T. Zenor. Henry Funk, aged 76, deaf and unable to hear an aproaching train, was killed at a grade crossing at Kokomo. John J. Tesh of Battery N, who helped capture Aguinaldo, is telling his experiences at his home in Elwood. Sim Steers, night watchman at the Ideal stove foundry, and William Leonard of Yorktown were badly injured in a riot at Daleville. Richard Hewitt, a convict at the northern Indiana State prison, who was recently granted a parole and went to work on a farm, tired of farm life and was sent back to prison at his own request. Warden Shideler of the Indiana prison north has tendered his resignation, business interests at Marion demanding his personal attention. The Governor has requested him to continue in charge of the prison until Nov. 1. In a street duel at Shelbyvilie between Milton Evans and John Cunningham the latter received a fatal wound in the groin. Five shots were exchanged. Evans is under arrest. ’ There had been an old grudge between the men. Prescille Cox, a widow, tried to kill John Heizer, aged 81, with a revolver. Heizer lives with his wife on Chestnut street, Indianapolis, aiid Mrs. Cox rents the'front room. The shooting took place in her room. Heizer, not seriously hurt, ran from the place and the police are unable to find him. James Chance of Starke County, who lost his life recently while fight ng a fire that threatened the destruction of valuable property, was betrothed to Miss Gusta Gitea, aged 18 year*. The day of hi* funeral she vowed that she would take her own life. Miss Cite* made all plan* for her funeral and she took poison, which caused her death. Claude McDowell, who has escaped from the military authorities three time* after being arrested for deserting from the Philippine army service, is hiding in the woods between Yorktowu and Gilman, and a posse of farmers will try to run him down. With McDowell are said to lie three other deserters, who escapel with him from Fort Thomas. William Darnell, Evansville, bled to death afier cutting an artery on a pane of glass. The McCloy lamp flue factory and the Central Bottle Company, Elwood, have started up. Dr. Sol C. Dickey of Indianapolis is elected secretary am) general manager of Winona assembly. B. &0. laborers and engine wipers in Washington have demanded an increase of 2Mi cents an hour. J. B. Williams, insane man at the Richmond asylum, hanged himself with strips of hi* clothing.