Rensselaer Semi-Weekly Republican, Volume 35, Number 31, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 19 December 1902 — Page 7

The Iron-Worker’s Daughter

CHAPTER XV.—(Continued.) A clerk entered the room, and attended to some details Mr. Mead impressed on trim In a low tone. While he was present the mill owner continued: “What is it? What has he been doing, er what do you suspect he has been doing 7 ’ “You read a story of a murder the other day?” “A murder? Oh, you mean the woman tolled on —— street, over file river?” “Yes.” Mr. Mead looked inquiringly at Gripp; *y chance the clerk glanced at him, too. Then the detective also looked at Gripp as he replied to Mr. Mead. “We are on the murderer's track; we think it is impossible for him to escape.” “I hope you will catch him! 'I hope may!” exclaimed Mr. Mead, fervent“That is why I inquired about Atherton. Good day, sir.” The detective retired. As he opened the door, he observed it was ajar. He also observed a young lady standing near a window in the adjoining room. Her face was turned from him, but her cheek was deadly pale. The detective, a trained observer, made a mental note of the fact. Had she heard what passed in the inner room? And if She did, how or in what way did the murder concern her? “I very much regret the abiurd mistake that will compel me to call on you again.” said Gripp, when they were alone. Plainly, his face indicated disappointment, chagrin. The substitution of one jot of drawings for another—how could he explain that? He would only make matters worse, he: argued, so he held his peace, trusting to time and a favorable reception of his very liberal proposition to Mr. Mead to pave the way for an explanation of the change made in the drawings, when they could laugh over it. He bowed himself out, and hastened •way so quickly he did not notice the figure at the window. When he disappe tr•d. one of the clerks addressed the waiting figure at the window. “Mr. Mead is disengaged now, miss.” The lady entered Mr. Mead’s private room quickly. “You are Mr. Mead?” “Be seated. Yes, and lam sorry I kept you waiting.” “You will excuse my want of ceremony, but it is a matter that cannot wait.” “Proceed.” “My name is Atherton. lam a daughter of Daniel Atherton.”

Mr. Mead was secretly amazed, but he •nly bowed, and she continued: “I have called to see you concerning * matter Mr. Arthur Mayberry is, or was, interested in.” Mr. Mead bowed again. His manner reassured her. She hastened on with her Story, as though time was precious, or •he feared to occupy Mr. Mead’s time. “Mr. Mayberry called upon you concerning business which he is unable tn pursue, because, unfortunately, as I have reason to believe, my father was in some manner induced to change his mind. At least, matters turned out in a way that Mr. Mayberry could not do what he thought he could, and I have called — not with or my father’s knowledge, Mr—but to let you know the truth, as you will doubtless know it from Mr. Mayberry himself. My reason for intruding in this matter is solely because it is known to me that Mr. Mayberry is in no way to be blamed. The fault, if any, lies with my father, and I am trying to make •mends—the only amends that lies in my power.” “I understand you. Give yourself no concern whatever,” said Mr. Mead, smilingly, as he looked at the anxious face turned toward him. She was going, when he detained her. “This idea of your father’s—has he disposed of it to any person, or has he tak0n steps that will test the correctness of his views?” “I do not know. I think he has not succeeded in interesting more than two Crsons— Mr. Mayberry, who, It seems, s given the matter up, and one other.” “That is all. You did perfectly right in calling. It has, already, disabused me of one notion.” He did not say what the notion was. Irene thought he referred to Mayberry’s failure to keep his appointment, and a faint blush suffused her cheek. But Mr. Mead was not thinking of Mayberry; he was thinking of Gripp, and wondering how he made such a mistake in bringing him a lot of drawings that had as little bearing upon the new process as the shadow of Cheops. And be instantly surmised that the drawings Mr. Gripp had looked at with anger and illconcealed disgust were this young lady’s. She bowed again and withdrew. Mr. Mead paced the floor with a strange smile hovering on his lips. “So, this is Atherton’* daughter. A love affair. Who would have thought her • puddler's daughter? As pretty a girl as one will see in a week. So, this is a case where Gripp has displayed his usual business judgment. Well, it’s no affair ♦f mine—but I’ll be hanged if I wouldn’t Mke to see Mayberry win instead of Gripp. This is a queer world—a queer world.”

CHAPTER XVI.

When Dan Atherton returned home on the evening of the day Gripp called, his Manner was more cheerful than it had keen for a week. “Yon had a caller to-day?" “You mean Mr. Gripp?” “Yes. There’s worse fellows than Gripp, I dare say. You didn’t give him the papers.” "No. Not until you sent him with a note. You know I would not be likely to give any person anything of value on the strength of a verbal order. But if you remember, you once Impressed upon me the necessity of demanding a note from you before giving books or papers.** “Yes, yes. Well, he got them, anyway, that’s the main thing now. And I dare say we'll see daylight soon. You’ll not have to turn many more dresses, or make your own bonnets much longer, I hope.” . At the table Atherton jested, and rented happenings and sayings that attracted his attention in the mill. He sat laager than usual; his old spirits returned.

BY HOWARD FORRESTER.

He asked his daughter what there was to be seen in the stores. When he rose, he looked at one. Or two books treating mechanical matters. He began to hum an air of a tune, then suddenly turned tp his daughter, who was washing the dishes. “I say, Irene! Are you sure you gave Mr. Gripp the right roll? These papers are all mixed up together. I can’t tell them apart” “I don’t'know. I won’t be sure. You can satisfy yourself by opening them.” He opened the first large roll near him. An exclamation brought Irene to the door. Her father looked at her with O'grave face. “Why, here are the drawings Gripp came for." - “I can’t see how it happened,” said Irene, coming forward. “I was so anxious to get rid of him, after refusing him the first time, that I gave him the roll I thought he-wanted." “The next thing I want to know, what did you give him?" Irene stood on a chair, looked at the remaining rolls, then descended, put a finger on her lips, and said: “Papa, I gave Mr. Gripp my drawings in mistake.” Dan Atherton made a wry face. The mistake in the drawings evidently made him very uneasy. Suddenly his eye fell on the note addressed to him. He strode to the mantel, saying: “When did this come?” “I thought you saw it wh€n you came in; it came half an hour before Mr. Gripp called the second time.” Atherton opened the note quickly, cast his eye over it, then in an altered tone asked: “Who left this here?’ Irene, quick to note the change in his voice and manner, replied: “A boy.” “A boy. Do you know him? Would you know him if you saw him again? What was he like?’ “Yes, I think —I am sure—l could tell him. I never saw him before. Why, he was about twelve or fourteen.” “Irene!” His manner alarmed her; his eyes shone with a fierceness that alarmed her. “You must keep On the lookout for him—the boy, I mean —and if you see him, as you value your life, do not let him get out of your sight until you learn who he is, where he lives —all that is necessary to be able to put my hand on him. You hear, Irene?” “Yes, I understand, father.” Then Atherton hastily crumpled the note up, thrust it into his pocket, grasped his hat, and without saying a word more left the house. When Atherton was a little distance from home he paused, stood motionless, and reflected. Opening the note he had thrkst into his pocket, he reperused it slowly. It was very mysterious. It read thus: “There is no telling what a moment may bring Forth Best cut your stick, and less Chance of Trubble. I’d-tell you this only for strange eyes watching to get a grip eu some one. “A FRIEND IN NEED.”

Atherton read this over twice carefully, and walked on, first holding the mysterious note up carefully and placing it in his pocket. There was no ' date. The signature was not reassuring’ It could only mean one thing. It referred to the death of Bob Peters. And yet no name was mentioned. It was vague, but all the more calculated to alarm a man ofnveak mind; a timid man would be driven into a panic by it, unless he felt that he could easily meet and dispose of any charge brought against him. “It means more than Gripp knows of all that passed—and maybe some one who does not know, but suspects wliat is not true.” Atherton walked slowly along, pondering the meaning of the warning note. “And why may it not be somebody trying to frighten me? Somebody who wants to get me out of the way?” This view was as reasonable as any other. His strong common sense told him he ought not to be guided in any important matter by any anonymous note. In short, he took the correct view; he said to himself he would stay where he was. He was as innocent, as sinless, as any man who could confront him, and he would not be driven away from fne city. And yet there was enough to make him feel uncomfortable, nervous, apprehensive. A man who would stop to write him such a note was cowardly enough to do anything. So be had two enemies where he thought he hard but one. That one was Gripp. Gripp, whom he was clinging to; Gripp, whom he felt like choking; Gripp, who hoped to be related to him in a closer manner than commercial cords could bring about. Atherton asked himself then and there: Will I fight for freedom —for myself, for my daughter? Long he debated with himself. When be had turned to move on, he made this resolve: “I will fight. I will be a* wise as the serpent and as gentle as me dove —until my time comes. Then, Mr. Gripp, look out for yourself—look out, Mr. Gripp!” He thrust a hand out in imagination as he walked on —it was now dusk. “Hello, there! What do you meau, hitting a fellow that way? Why, bless me if ’tain’t Dan Atherton.” “You're just the man I want to talk to. Gome with me, Jack Jones. I have something very serious to say to you.” “Dan, you know I’d go through fire and water for you." “I believe it. Come.” Then the two puddlers walked on side by side.

CHAPTER XVII. One of the best known localities in Pittsburg, ss in' all other large cities, and especially in great manufacturing centers, io the place set apart for the detention of such as infract the law. The Pittsburg Tombs has but one outlet, and that is on a narrow street, termed Diamond, formerly an alley. Below the entrance to the Tombs, on either side of the street, are a number of restaurants. One of these is mach favored by workers in the mills and glass factories. Especially do the irqpworkers congregate here. Into this establishment Atherton ushered Jack Jones. A counter on the left extended to a back room. A group of men wore Sitting

at a table near the door, noisily discussing some proposed changes in wages or method of manufacture. Another group were discussing local politics. . At the extreme end of the counter two Yuen were conversing in low tones. One was well dressed, with the manner of a sharp, keen business man. Something in this man’s manner and appearance arrested Atherton’s attention. But he hurried with his friend into the back room, giving a waiter a sign. The Man followed him immediately. "We Want to be alone about five minutes.” “I’ll see you ain’t disturbed for that time,” said the attendant Atherton thrust a hand into his pocket, brought forth the warning note, laid it down before his companion, and looked at him in silence. Jack Jones stared. “Jack!” Atherton lowered his voice. “I brought you over here to tell you what no other soul will ever hear from me. I want one man to know the truth. Maybe it will be best—-it may serve me or mine.”

Atherton looked around him, then bending forward, asked his companion: “Did you ever hear talk of how Peters died?” “Talk! O, there was plenty said you had an old grudge, and a good reason to wallop him, but death stepped in and cheated you of your chance. They do say, speak no ill of the dead, but I never could abide Peters. He was too upsettin’—too much for the boss, and too bossy for any of us. But he is dead, and let him rest.” “Amen to that. You never heard anything like a hint of foul play?’ “Why, I’d knock a man down if he hinted it afore me.” “You must know the beginning and end. I was quarreling with him, you know I had good cause. I told him I’d let no man ride rough-shod over me. And he goaded me to desperation. Well, I had just made up my mind to whip him, or he’cf whip me.” “I predicted it often, Dan.” “And I was just going to him—with this first." Atherton held out his clenched hand. “He had picked up a weapon, when he fell in a heap—like a man struck by lightning.” Jones looked at his companion, openmouthed. “You didn’t tell that at the inquest.” “No. Mr. Meeker did not like to raise any more talk than was necessary.- The moment the inquest was over I felt uneasy. It was tiie first thing I ever concealed, Jack.”

“It’s like you. Jfobody never knew you to keep anything back.” “Then Gripp came to me and talked as if I owed everything to him for not being ire. jail.” “And you hit him?” • “No. You see —I began to think of Irene. I bore much on her account. When Gripp found I was alarmed about the way Peters died, and the whole case was not explained, he began to build on controlling me. You know my patent!” ' “Aye.” “It brought me foolish letters, and one —just one business customer —young Mayberry. We bargained—or, 1 signed an agreement with him. He was to help get others interested, and carry out my plans. When we talked the process over —not very far from where we are sitting —Gripp, who was in a stall in a restaurant next us, overheard every word I said.” “And if he did—he dare not come "into your way. You’d your idea patented?” “Not everything. He heard enough to cheat me. Mayberry and I went to Mead Bros. & Co. —Slayberry was going to get Mr. Mead into the scheme with us —and there was-kuJnp ahead of ns. We heard him talk about his i .i,y, 4 _y r »cesr to Mr. Mead. Mayberry and I separated, „. afterward Gripp met me —I think he was on the lookout —and he tried to induce me to throw Mayberry over and take him in.”

“Then did you fly at him?” “I did not. I thought of the scandal —of Irene. I ought to have quarreled with him and have done with it.” “Then what?” Atherton’s eye was more resolute, his tone more impressive. “I’m going to prove to you how easily it is to be mistaken. I’m going to show you how I let the thoughts of Irene and scandal cow me. I said I’d think over it. I should have struck the villain, for he is one. When Mayberry called on me for a talk, I was offish—he got offish, too, and as he is a high-minded, spirited young fellow, he gave me back the agreement I signed.” "Well,” said Jack Jdhes, sitting back from the table, “he was a fool. He’d a right to hold on to the paper, and not let his high-mindedness come between him and his plain rights. I never believed it of you Dan —never.” “I know Gripp would like to marry my daughter. He has means. He is worth a good deal of money—as he was having everything his own way with my process.” “I’m sorry for you, Dan; I’m main sorry, Dan.” “1 believe it. But I am sorrier for myself. He had me call to see him at an out-of-the-way place”—here Dan shuddered —“a place where a murder was committed that very night; so you may know the sort of a gang I had to encounter going there.” _ “The murder was ” “The murder of that woman in ?Jleghsny. I agreed to send him my drawing*, so he could show them to Mr. Mead ” “■Then he’a got you foul, Dan. If he’s got the drawings, you must get them •■Stop. He didn’t get them. When I sept him to my house for them. Irene would not give them oh a verbal order. Sc- I wrote one at the mill, and he went bark for the drawings. When I got home from work thia evening, I foupd Irene g».ve him the wrong drawings.” “Good! Good! Good for Irene!”

”1 don’t know, but I think she maybe mede a mistake. Anyhow, Gripp has a lot of papers with Irene's birds, vases sitd flowers on them.” "Now I’d like to burst, "Dan. It’s a g-jod one—a good one on Gripp.” "Then, the next thing, I found this note. A boy brought it to the house. It alarmed me, I confess, but. Jack, I’m rot alarmed now. I’m my own man ggain. Scandal or no scandal, I’m going to fight Gripp. I want some one to talk to—and now you know the whole business." As the friends emerged from the little back room, the man Atherton had observed at the end of the counter approached him and touched him lightly on

the arm. Atherton turned on Mm quick* ly. “Who are yon, sir? What do yon .want?* “I want you,” said the man, with an insolent look, speaking in a tone that wsa heard throughout the room. “I don’t know you, sir,” said Atherton angrily, “and If you dare to speak to me again, I’ll teach you a lesson you’ll remember as long as you live.” He assumed a menacing attitude at once. The other signed to two men near, who had come in while Atherton was in the back room. “Seixe him!” “What do you want Atherton for?’ demanded Jones hotly of the three, looking at them in turn in a manner that meant business. Two whipped out revolvers instantly. The one who had spoken flashed a badge on the spectators of this scene. (To be continued.)

MONEY IN THE FISHERIES.

Vaet Fortunes Have Been Amassed by Those Who Seine the Ocean. Far more profitable In many instances than tilling the soil and gleaning the harvests therefrom is the occupation of “farming” the ocean. Many of those engaged in the coasts fisheries have become immensely rich. The total harvest of sea fish sold at Gloucester and Boston, which are the principal markets, during the past year, officially reported, amounted to 162,218,021 pounds, worth $4,385,102, of which the Newfoundland banks produced something more than 65,000,000 pounds, while the grounds off the New England coast yielded nearly 97,000,000 pounds. There were 3,731 “fares” (smack loads) brought to Boston, says a writer in Success. Of these 203 came from the eastern banks. At Gloucester, 3,782 “fares” were landed, of which 668 were from the eastern banks. On the Pacific coast the catch amounted to 217,965,156 pounds, the value of which was $6,278,639. The capital Invested there amounted to nearly $13,000,000 and 20,000 people found employment in the business. For the sake of comparison. It may be worth telling that the fresh water lakes, which Uncle Sam also cultivates, yielded 113,728,040 pounds of fish, worth $2,611,482, while the Mississippi and its tributaries produced 94,713,402 pounds, valued at $1,771,812. To sum it up, the principal fish fields of the United States produced in one year for the market the extraordinary amount of 588,625,519 pounds of edible fish, for which the fishermen received more than $15,000,000. This does not include the run of shad or any fish brought directly to New York City and other ports south; nor does it include the quantities taken in local waters and consumed in the villages and smaller cities. Neither does It include the shellfish. '

RUNS ALL NIGHT.

Chicagoan Refused to Be Impressed byNiagara’s Great Cataract. Among tfie practical jokers of Chicago is one who deserves to be classed with the “doctor” In Mark Twain’s “Innocents Abroad.” The “doctor’s” conversation with the guide about the mummy is hardly more amusing than this man’s conversalon with the guide about Niagara Falls, as related by the Brooklyn Eagle. The man recently made his first trip to the falls, and a gdrue he hired was trying to Impress him \vlth magnitude. “Grand!” suggested tW guide. “Great!" acquiesced the stolidly. “Magnificent!” persisted the guide disappointed at the lack of enthusi asm.

“Finer than the bear-trap dam In the drainage canal,” admitted the Chicagoan. The guide looked to see if ho were joking, but there was never a smile. The Chicago man seemed to be interested, but not at all impressed. “Millions of gallons a minute,” explained the guide. “How many a day?” asked the Chicagoan. “Oh, billions and billions!” said the guide. The Chicagoan looked across and down and up, as If gaging the flow, and then turned away. “Runs all night, too, I suppose," he remarked, disinterestedly. The guide was so dazed that he had not recovered when the Chicagoan left

The Bench Was Barred.

A king’s counsel was appearing in a case of slander, which was being heard before a certain judge, with whom, outside court he was on the best of terms. The chief witness was a woman, who appeared to testify to the alleged slander. “Now, madam,” began the K. C., “please repeat the slanderous statements made by the defendant on this occasion just as you beard them.” “Oh, they are unfit for any respectable person to hear!” was the emphatic response, as she looked Indignantly at the barrister. “Then,” said the K. C. coaxlngly, “suppose you just whisper them to the judge.”—London Answers.

Professionally or Otherwise.

“Yes,” said Dr. Killiam, “I spent my vacation gunning in the Maine -woods, and 1 almost killed a guide.” “That so? How did he come to get you to prescribe for him?"—Philadelphia Record.

The Half and the Whole.

Friend—You have always referred to your wife as your “better half.” Now, how do you designate the baby? Mr. Newlyblessed—Oh, baby Is the whole thing.—Brooklyn Eagle.

His Vacation.

Singleton—l say, Wederly, did yon take a vacation this summer? Wederly—Well, I guess so. My wife stayed In the country six weeks.

BEGIN TO LAY CABLE.

BHIP LEAVES SAN FRANCISCO FOR HONOLULU. Wire Which Xs to Span the Pacific Being Uncoiled—Ceremonies Mark the Splicing in California Governor’s Daughter Breaks Wine Bottle. The long, thin cable that will connect this country with the Philippines and complete connection by wire around flic world was made fast at San Francisco Friday and the cable ship started for Honolulu. Ceremonies marked the splicing of the cable to the land wires. Speeches were made and the little daugh-

CYRUS W. FIELD. The Father of Ocean Cables.

ter of Gov. Gage christened the cable, breaking a bottle of California wine. The company paid the custom house SB,IOO as duty on the cable instruments for this end and on the first three miles of line. Buildings have been rented in Manila for offices of the telegraph company end concessions for the underground connection have, been secured. Honolulu will be the base for the operation of the cable to the Philippines. It is the purpose to relieve frequently the relay operators at

MAKING FAST THE FRISCO END OF THE CABLE.

Guam and the smaller Sandwich Islands. The lonely post's nre hard on operators. Messages from al! the world will go through their hands, yet they will hear nothing but the waves, the rustle of the palms and the shouts of naked children at play. Their part will be a strange one, and in selecting men for this service great care was taken to secure operators who can stand the strain of loneliness and hard work. Circuitous Route of Words. Few people who read in the newspapers the dispatches .from Manila realize what a circuitous route the words have taken. A message from Manila now goes through India, the Suez canal, Mediter»..nean sea, Portugal, England and Newfoundland. ”c’-onteen relays are passed, yet with all this >erk dispatches have been sent the long distance 1E iess than an hour. In 1896 an experiment was made. Chauncey Depew sent a message 35,000 miles in less than an hour. This message was transmitted from New York via Chicago to San Francisco (4,100 miles), to Canso, N. S., via Vancouver (4,900 miles), via Commercial cables (2,800 miles) to London, to Land’s End (250 miles!, to Lisbon, Portugal (856 miles), to Gibraltar (336 miles), to Malta (913 miles), to Alexandria (154 miles), to Suez (151 miles), to Aden (1,403 miles), to Bombay (1,850 miles), to Madras (500 miles), to Penang (1,497 miles), to Singapore (308 miles), to Saigon (630 miles), to Hongkong (991 miles), to Foo Chow (473 miles), to Shanghai (1,241 miles), to Tokyo (600 miles). Thus, adding the disfrom London to Tokyo, we have 13,677 miles, returning to London, we have 27,354 miles, plus the distance to London via Vancouver we reach the enormous distance of 32,754 miles, plus the distance London returning to New York we have roughly 35,000 miles.

Laks Claims 140 Victims.

In the navigation season of 1902 140 lives were lost on the five great lakes. This is the largest death harvest recorded. Last year the number was 182. In 1900 there were 110 persons drowned, and in 1889 the list numbered an even hundred. Prior to that year less than a hundred persons were lost on the lakes each season. Statistics show that Lake Michigan was the safest of the lakes this year. Lake Erie leads with fifty nine. Lake Superior comes next with forty, Lake Ontario with fire, Lake Huron twenty-two and Lake Michigan fourteen. Ten sailors were lost in Detroit and St. Clair rivers. The death of Luke McLaughlin of Muscatine, lowa, ends an existence of 103 years. His wife, whom he married seventy-eight years ago, survives him. Mr. McLgughlin was an eccentric Irishman known to almost every resident of Muscatine. He was bora in Galway, Ireland, in 1799. “Sing" Doyle, city marshal of Platte City, Mo., committed suicide by shooting himself. Domestic trouble is given as the cause for his act. Although a bullet pierced Doyle’s heart he lived from 6 o’clock Sunday evening until 0 o’clock Monday morning. A London dispatch says it is stated that Maj. Rosa, principal of the Liverpool School of Tropical Medicine, will be awarded the Noble malaria research brine of f 15,000, Maj. Ross conducted several expeditions into the mosquitobreeding districts of West Africa.

REUNION OF WAR NURSES.

They Recently Held a Grand Encttnpmeat at Washington. The first week of December in Wash* ington belonged to the women—llia nurses who have been helping Uncle Sam in his war work daring the last four years. They had a grand encampment and reunion at the national capital. President Roosevelt received them in due form; a special reception was tendered* to them by the Secretary of War, and an elaborate program was carried out for their entertainment. These are the women who took care of our soldiers in the camps at Montauk, Chattanooga and Jacksonville, in Cuba and at Porto Rico, at Tien-tsin, at Pekin, and in tiie Philippines.. They are all members of the Society bf Spanish-Amer-ican War Nurses, and each member most have served at least one month ns the year 1898, under contract with the surgeon general of the army. Picturesquenew was lent to the occasion by the presence of four Indian women, belonging to a Catholic sisterhood (trained graduate nurses and members of the organization), who were with the Seventh army corps at Jacksonville and in Cuba. During the Spanish conflict, no fewer than 1,500 contract nurses were employed by the War Department. Dr. McGee, their chief, was appointed as an acting assistant surgeon, ranked relatively as first lieutenant, and had the right to wear shoulder straps if she had so desired. She was the only woman officer in the United States army. It was she who wrote the paragraph in the bill which, when passed by Congress and approved by President McKinley, established the Army Nurse Corps.

MRS. U. S. GRANT DIES.

Widow of President and General Grant Passes Away at Washington. Mrs. Julia Dent Grant, widow of General Ulysses S. Grant, former President of the United States, died at her residence in Washington, D. C., Sunday night, in the seventy-seventh year of her age. Mrs. Grant suffered from an old kidney trouble, which of late became decidedly aggravated. She also had decided symptoms of valvular disease of the heart. Recently Mrs. Grant was attacked by a cold, which aggravated the bronchial ailment of years’ standing. She has been critically ill since Friday, but had been confined to her bed for a greater part of the time since last October, when she returned from Coburg,

Canada. She was unable to stand up, and found it impossible-to eat while in bed. Consequently she had to be lifted to a chair and back again, and she had been practically helpless during the last three months. For nearly a month Mrs. Grant had been failing. Telegrams were sent to Mrs. Grant’s sons—General Fred D. Grant, U. S. A., commanding the department of Texas; Ulysses 8. Grant, Jr., and Jesse Grant, both of whom were at San Diego. Cal. — informing them of the sad event Mrs. Sartoris, Mrs. Grant’s daughter, was the

MRS. U. S, GRANT.

only one of her children at the bedside when the end came. Mrs. Grant was conscious almost to the last, and realised from the time of the change for the worse in her condition that there was little chance of her recovery.

Interesting News Items.

J. C. Loving, secretary of the Texas Cattle Association, is dead in Fort Worth. He was an old resident of Texas, having -lived there since 1844. Mr. Loving was 06 years of age. The control of the Manhattan Railway Company in New York City has passed to the Subway Company, giving the latter company ninety-seven and threefourths miles of street railway. While attempting to board a moving street car, John Chinski, Jr., a clerk employed at the Nelson Morris packing bouse plant in South St. Joseph, Mo., lost his life. Chinski came to this country from Russia four months ago. C. R. Smith was serioqaly hurt in the Marshall mine at Galena, Kan., by large boulder falling from the roof. Both his arms were broken, his bead and back badly bruised and he was also hurt internally. Wayne Brumfield was instantly killed near Guyau Falls, W. Ya., during a pistol duel with Henry Tiller. Twenty years ago the fathers of these two men engaged in a shooting affray which resulted in Tiller being killed. Friday’s trouble is traced to the old tragedy. Jules Masou, vice-president of the Plasant Valley Company at Hammondeport, N. Y.. died at the age of 80 years. He was considered the leading champagne expert In America. E. R. Root, a brakeman on the Kansas 6ity Southern, who sued the company for $50,000 damages for personal injuries, was awarded 18.000 by a Jury in the Circuit Court at Butler. Mo. New York capitalists are to expend 825,000,000 in construction of the San Diego and Eastern Railway from Fan Diego, CaL. to Yuma, and thence to a. transcontinental connection in ArUona.