Saturday Evening Mail, Volume 10, Number 15, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 11 October 1879 — Page 2

a

THE-MAIL A PAPER FOR THE PEOPLE,

TERRE HAUTE, OCT. 11,1879

WHI8PBBBD THOUGHTS

She stands beside the cottage door as To wa«h the dying day, tr" Her raven hair i« sprinkled o'er

Wllh flakes of silver spray -'i And many a line of sadness sears IfTbat pale yet love face. To show where slow and silent tears

The touch of tiny hands.

I

II

eet them once again

-OR,-

The Shadow Detective.

BT MABUNI MANLY.

Author of' Gold Gulch," '"Paadv Ellis, the Prairie Chlel," "Dick Sharpley, the Cincinnati Detective," "Diamond Cut Diamond," "Sure Shot,' etc.

[This story was begun In The Mail, 8ept. 20Lh, Back numbers can be had of news agents, or by sending live cents for each eopy to the office of The Saturday Evening Mail.]

CHAPTER X.

FOB LIFE OR DEATH.

You are not Duke Darrel, the Detective!" John Blake stood face to face with the mysterious "man who had invaded his cell on the previous night during Daisy's visit, and whose black eyes, shining with intense feeling, had seriously alarmed the young girl.

The daylight came in feebly through the barred windows, and falling upon the form ef the mysterious visitor, showed his shapely person to advantage.

During this time he had kept his hat drawn even more closely over his eyes than on the previous evening.

As John gave utterance to these word*, his visitor gave a perceptible start, and he could see the delicately gloved hand tremble as it WAS raised to puUlv,tjhe hat down iarthern„

WAS

j» v-

"You are right 'I gave you a wrong name on purpose last night. Who I am it does not matter, but I came here for your good. John Blake, I know the man who murdered your uncle."

No wonder the young man's face brightened as if by an inspiration. He laid his hand impulsively upon the other's arm, and was somewhat surprised to feel it tremble under his touch as though there vu magnetism in it. "Thank Heaven for that! I began to think it would go hard with me, and I

sorry mor* on Daisy's account than my own. Tell me, I beg of you, who the murderer is!"

At the mention of Daisy's name the other had drawn away from him, and aiddenly assumed a dignified position. Through John Blake'B mind there flashed the suspicions that had asskiled him the night before, and he inwardly resolved niver to mention Daisy's name to this peragain.

"You

are!" answered the strange man,

with terrible emphasis. John started back, not knowing what to make of this reply. "What do you mean? A minute ago you s»id you knew the murderer of my nncle. What makes you say it was I?" "Circumitanoaa say so, and they have sent many a man to the gallows." "Bat you know better. "I do. I

am

the only one who can save

you, John ftlake," answered the other. Will you do it?" he asked. "There is a condition." "Name it, for Heaven's sake!" he said, with a tremor in his voici, not knowing what was coming next.

The strange man seemed to hesitate. Then John a.tw his hands

Was it not possible for him to draw the other oat? Surely he should

have I incurred their enmity?" John Blake, horrified.

4

Have left tbelr lasting trace. And still her whispered thoughts will tell Of scenes that are no more, And scan the once loved form tnat dwell

On Mem'ry's shadowy shore Again the little *ot to deck, That now so empty stands, Again to feel around her neck v,

And as she views the sliver night, Slow sweeping to the wc»t, A murmured prayer in faith takes flight

To Him who glveth rest.

From the Novelist.

and

clench as though

he had made up his n:ind to a certain procedure. "The condition is this, and it will be well for you to reflect before replying hastily. You are to give up Daisy Cameron, and marry the person I will name. Refuse this condition, cause me to wash my hands of the whole affair, and you will surely suffer for the crime which another has done."

There was a terrible earnestness in these words. John Blake realised the fact that he was playing a desperate game, and that It would be well for him to move cautiously. He let his head fall upon his breast m% though reflecting upon the proposition made, but he had not tne remotest idea of Accepting it.

be

equal to a

woman in strategy. At any rate, the attempt was well worth Irving. "How am I to know tnat you can do as won say, if I agree to jour condition?"

He looked up suddenly. The large black •yes were fixed upon him eagerly, and he •aw them light up with expectancy as he •poke. "You take no ruk, as I shall not ask you to redeem your pledge until yon are proved inni**ttt of this terrible crime." "But how tttin you clear me? you did not see the crime committed, and unfortunately I am unable to prove an alibi, aw I KU off on a solitary ramble at the time it occurred. Give me an inkling of the power you possess, before I make ap aav mind, for my decision once formed will be irrevocable." "This ia what I can prove, although it would teem hard to believe it at first: The night before the murder three men, who have reason to hate yon, met at the old tavern on the Rocky road, the Black Bone, and formed a terrible league, the principal object of which wae to rain you. One of these men promised to accomplish it, and he did. With the ingenuity of a fiend he personated yon, murdered your nncle, awl left your knife sticking in the badly. This what I can prove if you will

"Merciful Heaven! who are the men who form thu terrible league, and how

asked

"The first is Black Arnold voudonot forget what reason he has to hate you?" "Yes, go on!" "The second is Claude Burton. J9e lovea Daisy Cameron, and would crush yon under his heel with as little compunction aa he would the head of a snake.' "And the third? Surely neither of these beA heartless enough to murder an old mn just to revenge themselves upon me. Qnick, tell me the name of the other!" ''The other man hated both you and your uncle. He has no heart, or if so. it is made of steel. That man murdered his own father." "Then it was Donald Blake! I half suspected that he bad returned. Oh! I shall hound him to his death for this cruel deed, the unnatural monster!" "You seem to forget, John Blake, that the power is in my hands and unless you agree to the terms I offer, the probability is lhat the fiendish plana of this league will be consummated, you will be hung for your cousin's crime, and be will take your place at the Palace, while Claude will perhaps win Daisy Cameron for his wife after time has dulled her grief. What ia your answer, John Blake, to my proposition?" "I refuse to listen to it If death is to be the penalty of being faithful to Daisy Cameron, then let it come! But on this I am resolved, that so long as I breathe, her dear name shall ever be kept sacred in my heart. That is my answer! I refuse once and forever." "Foolish man, you know not what you do!" cried the other} and there was visible agitation in his manner and voice. "On the contrary I have, in the brief time allowed me, weighed everything carefully. I reject youc proposition, Edith Crawley!"

You know me!" exclaimed the other. "Yes, I knew you last night, but I did not tell Daisy. I think I understand your reason for assuming this disguise. Whether it is complimentary or not to myself I cannot deciae, but surely it does not speak well for your maidenly mod eaty, Edith." "I laid that aside when I assumed these garments. In them I spied upon Claude aud his friends, and came very near being caught by the detectives, who were after Black Arnold for running an illicit still. It was all for your sake, John Blake. Do not look so surprised. You knew long ago that I loved you, ay, worshipped you. I could no more help it than I could help drawing breath. I could end it if I willed, but my life would go with it. Call my actions unladylike if you will, I am ready to do and dare all for you. Would Daisy do as much, John? Ah, she would shrink from the blow, and weep like a babe, where I would Btand in front of you and fight like a lioness. You loved me once, John at least you would have done so hadshe not come in between with her fair face and blue eyes. Then you never saw anything unmaidenly in my afctione, for I was happy now I am desperate. Heaven knows how I love you, John! Do not drive me to despair. Have pity on me have mercy on yourself! I can save you, but, John Blatae, shall I save you for her arms? Perish the thought! I would rather see you die before my eyes than that through my influence, Daisy "Silencer exclaimed John, almost fiercely. "Do not take her sacred name upon your lijw. You say you love me, and call upon Heaven to witness how dearly. I* it love? Ay, the same love that actuates the savage. Were it Heaven born you would think only of my happi nes8 aud endeavor to secure it, even though the cost be pain to yourself. Ah, Edith," and his voice was now reproachful, "once I respected you, and perhaps might have loved you had my heart been free. Now it can never be. You mistake when you say Daisy took me from you. I knew

loved her before I ever came

here and saw you. Do what you will in regard to clearing me but remember, if I die, my blood will now be on your hands, Edith." "No, no, do not say so. For Heaven's sake, John, do not make me commit this crime. I take back part of my proposition. Promise me never to marry Daisy and I will strive to be content. Promise me, John!" "I can not, will not. You do not tempt me, Edith. Without Daisy, life would not be worth having. What a pitiful wretch I would be to buy my existence at the cost of life's happiness to the one who had trusted her sweet love to me! Even you yourself in the years to come, when the excitement had died out of your heart and you could look calmly at the pMt—even yon would denounce it as the act of a traitor. You have my answer Edith. If you will not save me without any stipulation, then leave me to my late. I have no hope save in the mercy of a just Judge above!"

The anguish of the disguised girl was something terrible now. Conscience was beginning to work. Her heart prompted her to clear John, but when she thought, of Daisy all her good intentions were swept away. She clasped her haods rigidly, and the lines on her face told how keenly she suffered, "Oh, I can not!" broke from her lips as she wrung her hands.

Then she caught John by the shoulders and wheeled him around to Che light, her black eyes looking into bis with a warmth he had neyer seen there before. It was a terrible thing, the passionate love of this young girl. "John, you may never see me again. Pray to Heaven that you may, for if I come to you it will be to tell yoc I have determined to save you for her. Good-by, John!"

Suddenly she kiased him, and with one last look, full of anguisb, turned and fled from the cell. "Poor girl!" said the young man a* he looked after her, "she is scarcely to be envied more than I, but it is not my fault Sooner or later the truth will become known bat what is my fate? How will it end?"

Ay, how will it eod, John Blake? t*

4

CHAPTER XI.

tntDKR THE OLD STONE HOUSE.

The Shadow Detective, was as ante in his movements as a panther. With a presence of mind that did him credit he had hurled the lamp at the nearest counterfeiter.

It VM well he did so, for in another half doien seconds he would have been covered by the weapons of his foes. This served as an interlude, and drew the attention of Bogus Bill and his other comrade from Duke to the man who dashed into the passage looking like a pillar of flame.

Although this detraction was bat momentary, it gave the detective time to leap from the spot where he had stood,

thus avoiding the bullets sent by the two men, and which were intended to end his days.

As he sprang around the table at which Detective Dave had been at woik, he drew his revolver. The smoke from their own weapons blurred the vision of the two scoundrel?, and having taken a deadly aim at him, they for the time being fully believed that their intended victim had gone down.

From this delusion they were suddenly and rather rudely awakened bv the vengeful crack of a pistol. Bogus Bill saw his comrade throw up his arms and fall, giving a bubbling cry of anguish at the same time, and then he realized the true state of affairs.

The daring detective had already disposed of Bogus Bill's three comrades, in one way or another, and his turn would come next.

For the time being th£ counterfeiter seemed fro tea with horror, but his hesitation was only momentary. Turning, he was about to make for the entrance to escape, when a human form came through the air.

It was the detective. He had made a tiger-like leap and landed beside Bogus Bill. Before the latter could do aught to further his escape, the hand* of Duke Darrel had seized upon him.

The counterfeiter still held his revolver, and this he suddenly pressed against one of the arms that held him—as he thought —and tired. At almost the same instant he let the weapon diop and gave a yell of pain.

In his flurry and excitement he had fired a bullet through the fleshy part of his own arm, which was stretched out to clutch his adversary's neck, involuntarily as it seemed.

Then, drawing apiece of stout cord from his pocket, he bound the man's ankles together with a few rapid turns, after which the counterfeiter wa9 allowed to be alone with his reflections, while Dake turned his attention to the man who .was groaning so lustily. ./'*

Tho wound he had received was not dapgerous, although quite a quantity of blood had escaped from the hole. In a way that proved him no mean surgeon, Duke stopped the flow of blood, and tied a rude bandage over the wound, after which he took the precaution to secure tne fellow's legs, not liking to risk anything to chance.

There now remained only the man whom he had choked almost to death. He was beginning to show signs of returning consciousness, and by dashing a little water into his face, Duke quickly brought him to. "I know you, Duke Darrel. You have come after me, and all is lost. It has at last come to the lowest step of degradation, and now it only remains for me to hide myself away behind the bars for the rest of my days. What a terrible fall! But I don't blame you, Duke, though I thought you would be the last one to hunt me down." "So I would be, Dave. I can never forget the times we have been on the trail together. I am goinp to give you a chance. Getout,of this with all speed. Make for California, and when you are once more a man, let me hear from you. I ow that I am not doing my duty to my employers, but I can never forget a friend. "Heaven bless your kind heart, Darrel! I will make a man of myself, and you shall never regret giving Detective Dave a last chance. I see now with open eyes what a terrible future yawned before me, and in a new country, wkh a firm resolve never to taste liquor again, I will reach my old position once more or die in the attempt! Farewell, Duke, while I live I will not forget your kindness."

Detective Dave caught his hand, and pressed it almost fiercely then, turning he left the place, nor did Duke ever set eyes on him again. In San Francisco he again worked his way to the top, and when this had been accomplished he wrote to Duke, thanking him from his heart for that "last chance."

When Detective Dave had gone, the victor walked into the passage to see what had become of the man who had ruahed to the water with his clothes flaming so fiercely, but not a sign of him could he find, tv-v.a

Whether the man had been drowned in the swift stream, or made his escape by some manner of means, it wan impossible to say just then, but months afterward, the Shadow Dectective came across a man in New York city, whoee face was scarred in a terrible manner, and who, when arrested, acknowledged that he was the fellow who had been so badly burned on this occasion.

Returning to the sub-cellar, after finding no traces of this man, Duke saw that his prisoners were safe, charged the empty barrels of his revolver, and then carefully secreted all the weapons he could lay eyes on.

Then he made his way upstairs in search of the ancient servitor, after having determined upon his plan of action, lite hdnchback was found crouching in a back room, having heard the noise of the battle below, and thinking his time had come.

Sqy god management and the display of his revolver, Dake elicited much in­

THRHK HATJTE HATUBDAY JiVJiNING MAIL.

5

Duke Darrel put forth his tefrrible strength there was a swaying to and fro as of two mighty oaks. Then Bogus Bill was hurled to the stone floor so heavily that he was rendered half unconscious by the fall.

In another instant the detective's foot was upon his breast, and the muzzle of the ofheer'a. weapon was staring him in the face. "dilence, you hound! One word above a whisper and I'll give you a ticket to eternity."

There was little need of this admonition for the counterfeiter was completely demoralized. The struggle, his wound, and last of all his heavv fall had shaken the breath completely from his body, so that he could not have cried out even had he so desired.

The detective had now disposed of all his foes, but he half expected to see Milts Nickspn and his friend come dashing into the place, and he intended giving them a terrible reception if they put in an appearance.

It happened, however, that these two worthies were several miles away at the time of the affair in the sub-ceilar, and they knew nothing of it, at the time at least.

As the minutes pasfed by, and nothing further occurred to disturb the silence that hed fallen upon the cellar, saving the groans of the wretch Duke had shot, and who had a bullet in his body somewhere, the detective rolled Bogus Bill over on his face, slipped a pair of handcuffs over his wrists.

formation from the strange looking servitor. Acting undo* his directions, he led the way to the barn. Here they found a covered wagon. There were two fine horses, Miles and his friend having ridden away on the others.

Night had come, but the moon rode in the azure sky, and enough light was given to distinguish objects near at hand. While the detective held the lantern, the hunchback harnessed the two horses to the wagon, and they both rode around to the front of the house.

With the assistance, of the ancient servitor, who worked under protest, but performed it well for all that, the two counterfeiters were carried oat to the covered wagon as though they were so much merchandise.

Duke Darrel was also very particular to secure the plates that had been used, and a bundle of bogus notes, as evidence.

When all was ready he bade the hunchback to unfasten the horses, after this was done they drove down the avenue to the road.

The wounded man groaned every few seconds, and occasionally a sound proceeded from his comrade in misery t£at sounded .like an oath.

Indeed, the situation of the two men was anything but pleasant, both bodily and mentally, for, being bound securely, they rolled back and forth with almost every lurch of the wagon, while the thought of the future that lay in store for them must have been anything but pleasant.

They had gone perhaps half a mile •on the road, when the clatter of hoofs, heard above the creaking of wheels, announced that one or more persons were earning.

On a country road there Is generally

iery

little travel aiter sunset, and Duke Darrel felt sure that those approaching him must be Miles Nickson and his friend returning home.

He had only time to fasten the lines to the brake, after drawing in his team when the two horsemen hove in sight.

As he had suspected, they were Donald BlAke and the owner of the old stone house, in the cellar ol which he had so very recently gone through euch desperate scenes.

The two men drew their horses "in beside the wagon. "Great guns!" shouted Miles, "if here ain't my hosses and wagon. What's to pay here?" "The devil's to pay. Look out, its Duke _arrel!" cried Donald, frantically tugging at his pistol, which was caught in

hlB

pocket. The Shadow Detective leaped out on the road. "You gentlemen move on double quick, or I'll bore a hole throngh you both. I've got Bogm Bill and his pard in here, and I mean to carry them to New York. Donald Blake, I'm off your trail for a time, but watch out I know you. Now move, or by Jupiter I'll fire!"

They looked at him for a few seconds, and seeing that he meant business every time, put spurs to their horses and gal loped away.

Duke stood listening until the sounds had grown faint in the distance. Then once more mounting to the box, he drove onward, and in a short time^ had the satisfaction of seeing his prisoners safely stored away in the strongest cell of the town jail,

CHAPTER XII.

THE MAN IN THE SHRUBBERY.

When the disguised Edith Crawley left the prison cell of John Blake, she was almost overcome with her emotions. The thought that she could save him by the knowledge she possessed should have been happiness to her, whereas it was, on the contrary, a source of misery, for she remembered in the same breath that should she do as her heart dictated, it would be putting the man she loved with such a passionate ardor into the arms of the woman she hated.* "I can not, oh, I can not!" she wailed time and again, as she hastened ia th? direction ot the house on the hill. "I love him better than my life, but I would rather see him dead than her husband. Oh, why did Heaven send me this terrible trial?"

Who cans into the inscrutable ways of Providence? The very trials that seem so bitter, serve to purify our natures and make us better. Poor Edith, almost heart bioken at the failure she had made to win John Blake, could not keep down the tide of angry emotions that welled up in her heart.

Woman like, she found relief in tears, but they came silently. "And I have lost him even his respect is gone," she said. "Oh, why was I not content with that? I would treasure it, now that it is gone. What can I do to regain it Save him? Oh, but the misery of giving him to her! What cruel fate is it that strikes me so? Poor Edith, poor John—not my John, but hers. Oh, I could trample her under my feet. How she clung to him last night, as I have dreamed of doing. Heave? help, me but what right have I to appeal to Heaven, when he told me the name should not papa my lips. Unhappy wretch that I am, can I not save him and then die?"

The poor girl walked on, so overcome by the powerful, conflicting emotions that fought for supremacy in her heart that she hardly knew whither her footsteps were leading her. until she suddenly became conscious of the unpleasant fact that she was standing face to face with her a

Abntr Crawley was eyeing her in amazement, for Edith had list the false mustache that had been a part ot her die guise, and the strange old man detected the resemblance in her features to his daughter.

Startled at this recontre, she tarned to flee, but a hand was laid on her shoulder, and her father's harsh voioesounded in her ears. "Who are you? Speak, and tell me why yoa bear that face, and what you are doing upon my grounds!" he demanded, savagely.

There was no escape from htm, so ciditn lifted her face and tarned it toward her father. "Edith

Too amazed to speak, the father could only stare at his daughter. Soon, however. what seemed to be the whole troth rushed upon his mind, and his face grew black with anger. "What does this mean, rirl Why do yoa go masquerading in this shameless manner? Have yoa lost your tongue? Speak, minion, or 111 shake the words oat of you!"

Abaer Crawley was in a frightful rage, and fairly splattered at the mouth. "Stop!*

There was something in the metallic

tones of the girl that sntprised her fatheri —a dignity in her manner that he had never seen there before, and which impressed him strangely, even in his furious passion. "Yoa would not dare to touch me father. What I have been doing doe* not matter. There is only one who know* it besides yoa, and he is too honorable to whisper a word." "Ah!" hissed her father, "you think I am as blind as a mole, but I have been watching you, miss, of late. You have been to see John Blake in prison, to condole with him, perhape but let me tell you new, once and forever, no daughter of mine shall ever mate witii a jail-bird 1" "Spare your words, father. I have been to see honest John Blake. There is no need of your worrying, for he will never marry a daughter of yours. Bnt enough of that. As to John Blake being a murderer, he is no more guilty of that crime than you!" "Of course you think so, but the difficulty will be to convince a jury of his peers of the fact," sneered Abner Crawley. "That I can do very easily when the time comes I can produce the right man," and the girl's voice rang out like the notes of a bell. "You can! Who is the Jack-in-the-box who is to jumjyn^t your call?" "Donald Blake, John's cousin. He murdered his own iither. There is a league against John Blake. Your precious nephew, the man whom you wished me to marry, is concerned in tins terrible crime?" "What mean you, girl? How do you know these things?" gasped Abner, in astonishment. "I followed him last night in this disguise. He met Donald Blake and Black Arnold at the Black-Horse Tavern. I heard their mutaal congratulations, and learned of the league against John Blake's life. When the detectives camel barely escaped. You know the rest—how you sent a mounted messenger to Rockville and had Claude released. He is implicated in the murder of Nathan Blake, and I shall prove it when the time comes. You would not have me marry him now, father?" "I would have you do as I commanded. This i9 all nonsense about Claude's being connected with this matter. Besides, girl, there are other reasons for your marrying him—reasons that you know little of. The papera I destroyed carried a secret that is dead to the world. I know you hate Daisy Cameron you would hate her still more if you knew she was the real owner of the property that I now enjoy."

Edith could only stare at her father, this secret was so amazing. "Do not look at me so, girl! It was all dyne for your sake," he said, hotly. "Did you descend to crime, father? This is too much," she cried. "Who spoke of crime? Not I.' You are dreaming, girl. Forget what I told you. It is imperative that you and Claude should marry. I have a hold upon him, but I fear he suspects the truth, and wishes to gain Daisy Cameron that he may take our wealth away. Ah! he little guesses how sharp old Abner is. Do not. on your life, give him a hint of what you know, and leave matters to me. Go you to the house and cast off this masquerading attire," and Abner Crawley walked hastily away. v'

The girl stood looking intently after him, her face marked with different emotions. 7 "We shall see, father, what will happen. On one thing my mind is fully determined—John Blake shall not suffer. I will disclose the secrets of this terrible vendetta, and let the guilty be punished. After that—oh, Heaven! I dare npt, shall not think of what will come after I have "given his life to her!"

1

She put her hands to her ears, as if to keep out all sounds, and ran toward the house. Right had triumphed over wrong, and the battle was over, but she dared not think of the consequence?.

Toward the house she swiftly made her way, only letting her mind go as far as the saving of John Blake's life and no further, for beyond that all was black and gloomy.

Abner Crawley walked in the direction of the town, communing with himself and occasionally laying hiB finger alongside of his nose, a peculiar habit he haa when meditating. "The minx!" he said "she has more spirit thau I thought. The Crawley blood begins to show itself through all. Ha! ha! ye?, the Crawley blood! That's good now, I take it. Alout this John Blake, I hope they'll hang him higher than Hainan! As to I laude's having a share in the crime, that's all moonshine. I don't think the boy's got spirit enough for such a thing. If he had he would never let me bullyrag him and twist him around my finger on account of that little forging indiscretion of his, as I have been doing. Yes. they must marry it is the only way I see now to get out of the scrape although now that I have burned my ships behind me, there is no escape, and I will swear black and blue that thing* are as they seem. They will find that Abner Crawley is much shrewder than they give him credit for. But I must be careful that Edith does not get on the track of the truth, for, with her new notions of rifht, she might be tempted to smash the plots and plans of a lifetime."

Thus musing, the old reprobate went on his way down the road. Hardly had the disguised Edith gone fifty yards away from the spot where the meeting with her father had oceurred .than a form stepped out from the shrubbery into the drive.

It was Claude Burton. He had heard all that passed, and his face was a study, such was the play of passions upon it. "You would betray us to save John Blake, would you, my fine girl We shall see. Be careful when you deal with such men as we of the league. Murder is an ugly work. Yon know too much, ray dear, and I am afraid you will get into trouble some of these fine days. What can the old wretch have on his mind? I have known all along that Daisy was the rightful owner of his wealth, and that made her so charming in my eyes but what connection have I with those papers he destroyed? Would that I had done what I intended to, weeks ago, and pried into his secretary. It may not be too late yet! "First of all, 1 mast find Donald Blake and renew our compact, for this girl must be silenced, when the time comes, one way or another. He will not give up his plan of succeeding to his father's estate for all the detectives in the country that I heard him swear, and there will be trouble in the

Ct"$ld

Abner is a canning fox, foot as I

have long

suspected bat we will see if I

can't outwit him yet. Secure Daisy, see John Blake convicted, and then for a glo­

rious life of ease. Things- are workings into my hand, and if that infernal detective shows up in this neighborhood, we will get a mob at his heels! I know Miles Nickson will be io with us, for he is a pe*fect dare-devil."

So far so good, but it happened) that this self-same fire-eater was soon to be dreadfully alartiied and ready to flee-before the detective's promise was fulfilled. [TO BB CONTINCKD.]

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NIDDLE-AQED MEN,

Married or single, who are prematurely old. as a result of excesses or youthful follies, and who are troubled by too frequent evacuations of the bladder, often accompanied by a burning or smarting sensation, and *tludlng a deposit of ropy sediment lu the urine, causing nervous debility and loss of vitality, weakening the system lu a manner the patient cannot account for. In all such cases a perfect oure is guaranteed and a radical restoration of the Uenito-Urlnary organs. All who are succumbing to the baneful practices among their sex, in these modern times will bear In mind that he will secure for them a complete aud radical restoration. Possessing the ability and experience, he would prevail on suffering men to favor him and yourself with a call.

His treatment is a simple one, but It embodies the principles that sustain and make life pleasant. Renovation—not prostration—is tht true medical philosophy. Your family physician, nodoubt., will rack, strain and convulse your feeble structure will numberless nauseous drugs. Dr. Wasserzug has happily abandoned this Ignominious and iatal enode of treatment, and the more enligthened world is dally recognizing and ardently receiving his new departure from the well worn ways of con* ventlonallsm, ____________ Ladled May Consult the Doctor's-

Wifo-Come and Be Healed— Consultation Free I

All Interviews and communications are held sacredly confidential,and I personally give my careful attention to all letters received, and answer them myself.

Allow me, once more, and lastly, to impress upon you if afflicted, tbe necessity of aprompt and immediate cure,as each hour and every day hastens you to the grave and lessens your chance of recovery—to say nothing of the increased cost. Ho do not longer delay, I implore you.

Preserve tHls circular for future use, or please hand it to «»oine friend. Call at his office, or address

DR. WA88EBZVU,

No. 202 Main St., Cor. Second, Terre Haute.

^XJ|LAME BACK. T\ WEAK BACK.

Benson's a peine Porous Plaster, Overwhelming evidence of their superiority over all other plasters. It is every' where recommended by phvsicians i_i_ Tha monnfa/*. druggists and the prebS. Tlie raauufsc tnrers received a only medal

mm.

I

free and strictly confiden­

tial. (Dlploma4n office.) 202 Main SU, corner Second, P. O. Box 398. OFFICE HOURS—From 8 o'clock fsrenoou to 9 o'clock in the evening. Sundays from 9 to 11 o'clock in the lorenoon, and from 3 to 7 in the afternoon. Consultation room, 'id floor, where hie can be consulted dally and calls the attention of the suffering multitude to the fact that, after a successful medical practice extending over a period of 12 years, during which time be has been Instrumental in bringing back to complete manhood and womanhood thousands of ailing mortals, thus giving him advantages that but few psssess In the treatment and cure of

Private, Nervous and Chronic Diseases.

Such as Seminal Weakness, Sperinatorrhiea, Inipoteacy(Sexual Incapacity), Nervoas and Physical Debility, Exhausted Vitality, Premature Decline in Mau.Lost Manhood, Abuseaof the Bystem, Diseases of the Kidneys, and such general functional derangements as result from youthful follies or excesses in later years.

Dr. Wasseraug addresses himself particularly to those who have already placed themselves under the caie of Ignorant advertising charlatans from whom they have recelvejFno benefits, and who in fact have done them more harm than good. Medicine, like all other sciences, is progresstvo, and every year shows proof of its advance. By a combination of remedies of great curative power, Dr. Wasserzug has so arranged his treatment that It- will afford not only immediate relief, but permanent cure.

YOUNG MEJST,

Who are suffering from the effects of youthful indiscretions (Semmal Weakness) among many others, showing some of the following symptoms: Nervous Debility, Impotence (sexual incar--**"1 Weakness or Confusion of

veil a special award and the given for porous plasters at

.'he*Centennial Exposition, 1876, at the Paris Exposition, 1878. Their great merit ties in the fact that they are tbe only planum which relieve pain at once.

Every one suffering from Rheumatism, {jame ttack or Weak Back, Wild on the Chest, Coughs, or any local win or wlie •hould

use

Benson's^pcmoWn^Plas

ter and be relieved at once* Price 25 cto. Hold

FOR 3 CENTS I

CATAKBH SUFFERERS, ATTENTION. Bend your address and a three cent sump and receive pamphlet, Information and testimonials regarding the most successful Catarrh Cure in the world, Catarrh has, and can be cured. One Thousand Dollars will be presented to any one whom it fallsto cure. Get our "Special Offer to Catarih Sufferers." Address, HUXLEY MEDICAXi DISPENSARY, Palmyra, N. \.

DIFFICULT,AND

PAINFUL-

MENSTRUATION

CURED WITHOUT FAIL!

Address, with history of trouble, DRTlEOK SlLVEBDf. Valley City, Ind.

51*3