Saturday Evening Mail, Volume 18, Number 25, Terre Haute, Vigo County, 10 December 1887 — Page 7

JOHN R. HU

CHAPTER XVIII. THE PLOT OF KXAVES country known rm Preston Rat, ""the village of Buahville included territory, were still in a fever of "ement over the attempted robbery

Californian. Almost every man r.n to distrust his neighbor, and the !or was on the air of an overwhelm-

force of outlaws who had in conflation the burning and sacking of ivillc. Many a kind-hearted, well4 farmer took the banker to •3 sioe, and, with a knowing shake /his head told him to be on the lookit These rumor*, of course, came rpm nowhere, and could be traced to no reality. The banker always smiled assuringly, as was his habit, and told them to not have the least bit of fear on hw account.

!sftinij

W'altcr Browntiold was not in the employ of the bunker nix hours before the news .sprtwl like wild (iro all along the Flat. It was ivci ived by some with

suspicion, iruliscrect on

Some regarded it as very the part of Sir. Small-

weed. mall weed knows what he is doing," wa# the reply of the older men. ••Old Miles w:h junt a little hasty in discharging h'm hand, and I reckon the young fellotV is better suited, any way, for a bank clerk instead of a farm hand."

Mr. Mile* heard the news on the Monday Waller entered on lii* duty as clerk, and the emotions it aroused were various and conflicting. At one moment he was blaming himself for his rashness in doing whit might have been a lasting injury to the youth at the next was trembling with horror £or the banker.,, "What djrt earth can Smallweed mean?'1 he asked himself. "He surely dou't know that Walter is suspected, yes, known to be a highwayman. Well, I'm going to town next Thursday to take Mr. Blown in, and I'll just call on Mr. Smallweed and tell him all about the boy. 1 don't, want to do Walter any harm, l^tt must do my duty as a good citizen."

Bill Martin heard llie news and hurried to convey it to Jack Hawkins. Together they chuckled their glee to think that the now "pal was gettin' in his work so/nice."

Walter went carefully about his duties, yet gr(jw somewhat nervous as the fatal day drew near. Ho and Mr. Smallweed had secret interviews with tho she rift", in which every thing was revealed in such a straightforward manner that both the sheriff and the banker were, compelled to believe that the youth was in earnest. Walter at rimes felt a twingo of conscience. Was it right to betray even a robber? Ho was in no* sense a traitor, as ho had never had .their cause at heart. At meat 1 was but a spy, and one upon whom circumstances had forced the arduous task.

I shall not live to see this matter over with," ho said i" the sheriff and bunker "thoy will hesitate to kill me." 4

Tuesday before the fatal Wednesday there was to bo a meeting of the knaves at the old log hut iu tho forest. Walter had promised to attend this meeting, and getting leave of absence l'roni his employer on Tuesday afternoon. set out tin loot for Jack Hawkins' house. The thoughts of Walter BrowuHeld as he trudged along tho road were gloomy. But forty-eight Iwurs would clapso when tho fatso mask ho had worn would be thrown aside forever. Perhaps a shroud and a enllm would be assumed in its place. Would the public indorse his act, and would he bo onoo more accepted in sooiety? He was cast out without his fault branded as a thief and swindler by Joe Brewster, for an offense ho never committed. Sometimes ho thought that ho would not have been to bl !:»e had he gone in with the robbers in earnest, and shared their profits then the face of his dead mother, and tho lessons of honesty she had taught him on her knees arose before him, and he drove all such things from his mind. •KJod forgive mo and aid me!" ho ejaculated. "I need Thy strength now more than ev«r before in my life," lie reached Jack Hawkins' houso "and found tho villain rejoiced to meet him. At dark Bill Martin and Jack harnessed up the team to the wagon, and tho three getting in drove to tho log hut. Hero they mot five other ruffians and all went iu. "Light a candle Bill," said Jack. **an' ye, Tom Chamberlin, stand guard outside. JS'ow keep yer eyes and cars open.'* "1 will, CaptMn." said Tom, a tall, burly looking fellow, whom Walter had Veen several limes about Bushvillo and tho Flat He was never known to work, but fpent most of his time drinking menu whisky the Tillage.

and playing cards in

Waltfrgaaed around over the villainous crowd, meeting their cold murderous eyes and his heart sank within thira. There was not a man in there, Jie felt assured, who would not stab hira to death on the slightest provocation. The candle burned dimly, and the badly lighted room had a ghastly appearance at best. With those horrible, tierce looking men in the foregrounda picture was formed calculated to make the boldest shudder. "Now," said Jack Hawkins, taking scat on the wide bench with an air of authority, "let's persue at onc't to kis'nest. Wal,\ what hev ye to report?**

The ruffians waited eagerlv, fixing their eves upon htm. Walter then pro*?eded to secure a -of Mr. Smallweed.

stale that he had managed to

•ecure a position as a clerk in the tank

"They're sot oonaiderable chink there, eh!" said Jack, winking greedily at his companions "Ye* sir. I suppose there Is now fan bank, in gold,*! least .three hua'^dred and fifty if not lour hand red thouaaad dollars" Walter answered, *ith 4 'fa air of truthfulness. ^**.L4stea at .that, boy** said Jade,

T..

W ft IJ Sty#*

with another knowing wink. "Four hundred thousand dollars in gold." Silence fell or The dark group, but Walter could «ee the villainous clutch of those greedy hands. "W'all, now, hev ye examined the bank an' vault? D'ye know where the money is kent?1' "Yes, it i(%i the vault which can be forced, or bjwn open with powder. I know all about the building. "Who sleeps in the bank?" "Mr. Rockwell, the book-keeper." "We kin easy cut his throat," said Jack Hawkins, as coolly as if ha had been talking about plowing afield of corn. "How are the doors?" "The front door is bolted and barred on the inside of a night, but the win-' dowon the right I can pass in and out at" "Well, which will it be best for us to come in through, the. window or the door?" "The door," answered Walter. "If we can get it open, and 1 can open it on the inside/'

For a few moments Jack Hawkins bowed his head in thought Waitet shuddered, for well he knew what tht dark thoughts of that villain were raising his eyes "till they met Walter's, he said: "I've got the plan all laid out now. We'll be under the old bridge. Ye must come out of the winder when all is ready, fur ef the door wer' open it might "cxcite suspicion. Come down after us, then go back through the winderand unbolt the door. Ye must take this dagger and drive it to the heart of that feller Rockwell, what stays there o' nights, with you."

Walter took the dagger, which was in a sheath, and put it bis pocket "Remember now," said Jaca, laying his hand on the youth's shoulder, "ef you prove us lalse we'll not hesitate to send i* bullet thro' yer head."

Walter felt that such would be his end. After arranging a few morp preliminaries, the meeting broke up, and Jack, Bill and Walter returned to the house of Hawkins-

CHAPTER XIX. 4

WALTER AKD PINKBV.

It was late in the night when Jack

Hawkins,

Walter and Bill Martin,

reached the house of tho farmer. As had been arranged the evening before, Walter remained with them until the* day began to dawn.

That fatal Wednesday which was to be so remarkable, for weal or woe, to Walter Brown field, came at last. Wal-t ter had slept but lit,tie during the night, and at early dawn was dressed ana on tho road. lie determined to witness the sunrise, perhaps the last he would ever witness. The robbers would come strongly armed, determined to kill any one who should turn traitor to the unholy cause. Walter determined to see tin day break over the hill east of the house of Mr. Miles. There, where had come to him the only pleasure he had known since childhood, he would stand and behold the sunrise onco more. It was a gray, chilly dawn, withthe darkness of night still lingering in patches along tho skirts of the forest Frost had whitened tho brown leaves and! hung like hoary powder from the stems, of the grass, Walter passed the house, well on the left, near tho great barn,, and was looking over tho crest of the) hill. He was beneath tho spreading branches of a giant oak. He turned about and gazed upon the great farmhouse, that house which coiitained tho only being he evor sincerely loved.. How far was she from him? Wouldshe despise him whon she knew that he was connected with tho bandits and highwaymen of Preston Flat? The house was quiet, but anon he heard persons walking about "They will be out soon, and I must not. let them llml me here," said Walter.

The sun now began to slowly ascend., Walter turned and fixed his eyes on the glorious orb. Supremely bright, it rose above the horizon flooding the entire valley with golden light, Walter's whole" attention was turaed toward the rising sun he felt a strong impression that it might be the last dawn he would witness. Great events must transpire before another would come. "Glorious sight! what an emblem of purity," said Walter, feeling a quiet enthusiasm, "is it possible that clouds could ever come to shut out such radiant light. Will the weight upon my heart ever be removed, and will my hopes ascend as bright and glorious as the sun?"

He was silcpt Happiness had never been for him, and though his mother had so often said: "It is darkest ju:?S beforo dawn." he was on the verge of despair. There was even a pleasure iu the sadness that burdened nis soul.

While standing thus he heard a faint rustle in the path behind him, and turning qnicklv about, he was astonished to find himself face to face with Pinkey Miles. She uttered a low cry and was in the aet of turning to fly.

Pinkey, Pinkey— Miss Miles, do not be alarmed, it I," .said Walter, in alow, earnest voice. I I "Why are you herer" she asked, after a moment's silence.

I staid near here last night, Pinkey —excuse me for unwonted familiarity —I mean Miss Miles, and I came here to see the sun rise, and have a look at the old place once more, before leaving it perhaps forever. I did uot expect to meet any of the family, much less yourself."

Pinkey's dark eyes were downcast and an expression of the deepest sadness stole over her face, and a moment's silence ensued.

Forgive me. Miss Miles, for trespassing on your father's grounds I had no evil intentions and assure you this will be the last time.'* "Arcyou gping away from Bushvfllef Pinkey at length asked, with just a little anxiety in ber tone. *•1 shall soon, Miss Miles. I have suffered more In Preston Flat than I ever thought a human could endure it seems that here I have no friends My every act and thought are misconstrued. and I am regarded with suspicion by alL Were I the greatest criminal on earth, people would not regard with mors smpicioa. I know, Pinkey—forgive me for calling you by that name—but I know you have hoard thosT rumors. They an false 1 swear

to yon by all my hopes of Heaven that they are false. I care not what others may believe of me I am innocent"

I know it" the girl said, hardly able to repress her rising tears. "lhank Heaven for that! O, that your father could only believe it too. "He would but for one thing. Walter," said Pinkey.

What is that!" asked the youth, eagerly. "If I only knew 1 might convince him of my innocence." "It is one circumstance, and only one by which you are suspected by father. On the night of the attack on Mr. Brown, when father rescued him, he inquired for you, and brother John and Ben as soon as he came home. You were not here, and came in an hour or so after the wounded man's arrival That was late at night, and we all supposed you in bed." "Pinkey, I will tell you and must ask your pardon as 1 do so. If I can convince you of my innocence I care not what the world may think. I could not sleep that night—my soul seemed on fire. The cause was yourself, and the utter hopelessness of my ever being worthy of you. I arose and slipped down the stairway unseen, and almost unconsciously I followed the forest road to the school-house, along which we —or I—was so happy returning from church. Each tree and shrub there seemed dear to me. I lingered long by the way. My thoughts were of you, and Heavens, if I could have died that night, how much better it would have Lcen. How much misery I would have been spared."

The reader may smile at Walter, jet how many have had experiences similar to this. Mauy are the long lonesome walks taken by tho lover, down wooded paths, perhaps grown dear bv tender associations. In after life such things are regarded as among the follies of youth yet at the time they are realities, giving the most intense pleasure or pain.

Walter paused a moment after having concluded the above, striving to meet the eyes of the timid girl before him he said: e. "Pinkey, what I have told you is the truth. I never intended to tell any mortal of that night's walk I would Hot tell another even if should hang for a crime I nover committed.^ More dear to mo than life itself arc honor and the knowledge that you believe me innocent The time will come, and soon, too, when the world will know I am innocent but 1 will perhaps not be alive then.fi I want to know now, Pinkey, do'you believe me innocent?" "I do," she answered, with emotion and earnestness. "I know you not only to be innocent of crime, but manly and honorable." "Thank you! Now farewell, perhaps forever!" He took her little hand, which trembled, within his own a moment Pinkey's head was turned away, for she dared not let him see the tears in her eyes.

When next she looked Walter was gone. He had disappeared in the forest and was hurrying awajr to Bushville. Brushing the tears aside, Pinkey went across the field to Uncle Daniel house, whither she was going when she met Walter,

CHAPTER XX. THE TRAOKDT.

The sun went down on Bushvllle on that fatal Wednesday evening the same as usual. The few farmers who were in town hurried homeward. The villagers closed up their shops and business houses, as was their custom. Th? bank of Mr. Smallweed was closed at the usual time. Walter Brownfield, pale and nervous with almost bloodless lips, managed to do his part of the business without making any serious mistakes. Darkness .gathered over the village and tho lights in the houses were extinguished. Three men, dark and silent, were in the bank. The mon were Mr. Smallweed, Rockwell and Walter. Others were oreeping slowly forward. At a given signal the real door was opened and five more dark forms glided in. Walter could heat some stern commands given to others without He shuddered. These commands given by the sheriff were orders which would produce pain and death. The sheriff and four men were in the rear room which was dark. The night was cold, for autumn was ready to deepen into winter. The thoughts ol the men within the bank were not pleasant It was a horrible suspense, such as is experienced by soldiers expecting a battle, with this difference: the soldier is inured to danger and courage, while the civilian is not Walter was not oue of those characters who delight in wild, exciting scenes, not that he was a coward, but that he regarded the peaceful, honorable citizen the real hero.

Mr. Smallweed could hardly believe that an attack npon his bank was impending might it not after all be a ruse on the part of the youth togetemoloymcnt? He did not feel pleasant toward Walter when he thought this.

If he is fooling with me, said the banker, I will discharge him to-mor-row morning."

Hour after hour dragged slowly by. The men were all silent The sheriff was dozing in his chair, a double barreled gun between his knees. His posse were seated about in chairs, some nodding, others silently chewing their tobacco, and all beginning to aoubt that there were any burglars within five, hundred miles. Walter wondered why the signal was not given. It was mkfnight, but it was too dark to see the hands of a watch or the face of a clock. No one dared strike a match. The mb all tire in the stove had long since been allowed to smoulder into embers, and the room was growing cold. Mr. Smallweed sat silent and gloomy In his office chair, becoming more and more convinced that Walter Brownfield was a fraud. Even Walter was anxious.

Had some plan of Jack Hawkins miscarried, or were they only a few neighbors'of Preston Flat playing a

TERRE HAUTE SATURDAY HiV JJNING MAIL

joke

him. perhaps to test his honesty? Might not Mr. Miles be in the secret and might it not all tend to his overwhelming ruin?" The suspense became almost unbearable, as another hour dragged slowly fay.

Walter was standing at the window, goat into the dark nteht.

The

was cloudless, and studded with a million stan. The town was silent, cold and dark, and the frost was gathering white upon the window-paaa.

denly a keen whistle was heard. It from the old bridge that crowed the creek. Walter started, and turning, whispered a few words to the sheriff, who had been dosing in his seat Every one was now wide awake, and for a moment a flutter of excitement was perceivable. Walter waited Until all was stall. Again the shrill blast sounded on the night air. It was the. signal. jjB? careful," whispered Walter, and raising the window, he sprang through to the pavement below. He ran hurriedly down to the creek bank. "Is that you, Walt?" asked a voice which he recognized as Jack Hawkins'. vlt is," he answered. "I had almost given you up." "It's just the hour—midnight" said Jack, in a whisper. "Is every thing ready?" "Yes," said Walter, in atone which had about it a fierceness that Jack's companions could not understand. "Then lead the way we must git this job over before aaylight an' be home in our beds asleep.1 "Come on," said Walter

Tho seven dark, fierce men ionowcd him, and when in front of the bank he pausgjLjffld whispered to Jack, saying: "f~mll now go through the window and unfasten tnc door, when it is open you can rush in." "I guess we understand our part" said Jack. Walter lifted the window and sprang in. Tho bolt had already been withdrawn, and Mr. Smallweed Btood in the far corncr, a string attached to the door to pull it bpen. The sheriff and his posse with deadly firearms were ready to receive the robbers. "Quick now, said Jack Hawkins, in a sharp tone of authority, "inside— cut that feller's throat and the money is all ours!"

There was a rush of feet The whole building shook with stunning reports, and to Walter who stood in the rear, it seemed one blaze of fire. Dark lanterns were Hashed from without and within. There were screams and shouts as if a pandemonium reigned. There were groans and cries of pain. Walter saw men from without closing in on tho burglars and beating them down from the rear. He also saw one tall, dark form lying prostrate and ghastly in the doorway. The sight was too mueli for him and hp turned away.

CHAPTER XXL CONCLUSION.

A thrill of horror shot through Pres-j ton Flat and all the surrounding country. Before morning had scarcely dawned the streets of Bushville were crowded with an excited throng. A stark, ghastly form lay on a stretchei in the front room of the bank, pierced by half a dozen bullets and Mr. Miles,1 who was on his way to the village, learned that it was his neighbor. Peopie came to gaze for a moment on the awful sight and then hurried away.

Six dark, sullen men, covered with wounds and bruises, were in the jail under a strong guard. They were Bill Martin and his five companions. Jack Hawkins had been killed at the first fire of tho sheriff. He had breathed out his dark soul in the doorway of the bank he came to rob. Wild stories flew through the air from tongue to tongue, and with the capture of the brigands was coupled the name of Walter Brownfield. He was a hero on this morning. Those who had heard the story of nis daring and honesty, even amid adversity, came to clasp his hand. Walter was modest, and claimed but a small share of the glory. This belonged to the sheriff, constable and posse. Mr. Miles, his son John, wife and daughter and the Californlan, were on their way to Bushville when they heard of the death of Jack Hawkins and capture of hjs gang. The story of the honor and integrity of Walter accompanied it His bravery and honesty had saved the bank. Mr. Miles looked at Pinkey and saw the gls I tears flowing down her cheeks. Mi Miles was strangely moved, and red not speak yet stranger than all were the emotions of Mr. Brown. He was affected even to tears, and seemed in a hurry to get to Bushville.

Mr. Brown and Mr. Miles and family found Waiter at the residence ol Mr. Smallweed, where he was busy receiving callers and congratulations. "By hookey, Walter," cried John Miles, shaking his hand, while tears stood in his eyes, "Iknowcd ye'dcome out all right I knowed ye was honest. O ye ought to seed ma and Pinkey crv for joy wnen they heard it"

The emotions of Walter, the overWhelming joy, are indescribable. Mr. Miles took his hand and said:

Walter: 1 confess I did one of

"Forgive mc, Walter: 1 confes ye wrong, I raTlv thought ye this rang of rascals. 1 all cam

gang of rascats. aii came about by hearin' what Joe Br -water had said about money bein' missed while yo clerked in the store at Queenstown, pnd bein' out so late the night Mr. Brown was nearly murdered." "Miss Pinkey may tell you some time where I was on that fatal night I dever can and as for Joe Brewster's accusation, I have no explanation, save that I am innocent"

Pinkey and her mother were in the room, but as yet she had not dared to even speak a word of congratulation to him. "I have something here that may explain the Joe Brewster matter more fully," said the Californian, drawing a letter from his pocket "I Just got It from the post-office." Opening it, he read: "Qtwkwtows,

Oct. 17-1S-Drar

Sir: Joan

of tbe loth lust at tend, and to reptr am ptoased to state that 1 had ttoung inu a abort time ago named Walter Brownfield as cierk and salesman in my store. Re was Industrious and apparently honest. Money was mtaain* from the drawer, and tbero were circumstances point*n* to b^nllL I caused bis arrest, but faiiiMr In proof ne was acquitted. Doubtless, overwhelmed with the disgrace. I* left this portion of the country, and I could not And him to rijrbt the wroa*. I have at Ia*t dtuwrered tbo real thief—« feliow clerk named James BoKarta, and Walter BrownfteM Is of coarse

Innocent,

will do

any thtnriotn to repair tbe Injury I have unwittingly done. Very respectfully youtm. "Joms Baawwaa." ••Thank God!" gasped Walter, the last stain on ay character is removed."

There is one idling more I wish to to you about, in the ureaence of friends of us both," said the Californian.

Walter was astounded who wa« this strange man, and why should ha be interestedin him?

Walter Brownfield, where were you born?" asked the Californian. In the town of State ol Illinois," answered Walter.

What was yoor father's name?" ••George Brownfield I never saw him. He went to California in 1819, and. was doubtless killed. I never heard from him."

He was not killed," said the Californian "he was for fourteen years a

risoncr, and to the world dead but escaped a few months ago and has now returned to claim his boy. Walter, your father is before you, and the treasure you so nobly aided to defend last night in Mr. Smallweed's bank is all your own."

The denouement was so sudden that all in the room felt as if they had received an electric shock. Turning to the astonished Mr. Mil.s, the Californian said: "I must ask your pardon for

£liles

little

deception played by me. My name is not Brown, but George Brownfield, and this youug man is my son."

All stared in blank amazement save Pinkey and her mother, who could no longer restrain their tears of joy.

Mr. Brownfield then said that having escaped from the Indians, he came East with his immense wealth to share it with his son that he learned that the young man's character had a blight upon it from the aftair at Queenstown, and confiding his identity to Mr. Smallweed only, he assumed the name of Brown until he had become strongly convinced of Waller's innocence. Mr. Smallweed being in the secret they readily understood why he was so easily persuaded to take Walter in his employ-

A few wec!s later, the capture of the burglars and death of Jack Hawkins were things of the past All six of those captured, on oeing arraigned, plead guilty, and the doors of the States prison now* shut them out from that world in which they had

roven such dangerous citizens. Mr. bought the farm of Jack Hawkins from his heirs, and they soon after disappeared from the neighborhood, never to be heard of again.

It is a sunny afternoon in winter. Daniel Hodge comes hurrying into tho kitchen where Aunt Margaret is preparing dinner. Uncle Dan has thrown off his coat as though it was midsummer, and waves his hat in one hand and his cano in the other. "Oh it's a goin' to be—it's, a-goin' to be right soon!" /Y"1'"What's a-goin' to be?" asked Aunt Margaret ••A weddin'," cried Uncle Dan.^fA, "Who?"

Walter Brownfield and ottr' Pinkey. O bless me, wasn't it a quick match tnoughP I knowed it would come soon. The best boy an' tho best gal on earth area goin' to bo made one, an' we're both- a goin' to be invited. Got yer neatest cap ready, I wouldn't miss it fur nothin'. Oh I never was so happy—nobody is happier, unless it's Walter and Pinkey." I "Dan'l, are you goin' crazyP" "Blamed if I ain pretty near it," lie answered.

Who told you Walter an' Pinkey were

goin' to be married?"

"Walter jest now told me hisself," cried Uncic Dan, "an I'm goinV if yo don't go with me, I'll go by myself. It's a goin' to be next Wednesday, an I'm a goin."

Uncle Dan was there and kissed the happy bride. Walter, by way of retribution, kissed Aunt Margaret who looked quite pretty in her neat frilled cap. We are sure a more pleasant wedding was never known in that portion of the country.

Years have passed sinee I was in Preston Flat ret from reports I know it is rapidly growing into one of the most prosperous portions of tho Union. A few days ago I happened to glance over the Bushville Courier, which some unknown friend had sent me, and there noticed an account of Mr. David Black and his son-in-law, John Miles, shipping several hundred head of cattle. So it seems that John Miles won the beautiful Susie Black at last though wo doubt if he over entirely mastered the English grammar.

The same paper states that Mr. Walter Brownfield, of the firm of Smallweed & Brownfield, bankers, had been elected to the Legislature. Thnt he would be absent from Bushville during the winter, as he and his accomplished wife and three children would start in a few days for the capital.

The

principal characters

bur Story

seem to be doing well, so we bid them adieu. ("the end.]

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AND DBAJJE11S IK 4

LUMBER, LATH,

GLASS, PAINTS, OILS AND BUILDERS' HARDWARE."T Mulberry street,"corner Oth.

Repair and Jobbing Work.

Given special attention. Write or call on

VANSYILLE ROUTE.

sibS-wv

Terre Haute, Ind

Established 1866. Incorporated 1878.

pHCENIX FOUNDBY AND MACHINE WO&KS,

Manufacture and deal In all kinds of "V

Machinery and Machinery :Users Supplies.

Flour Mill Work

OUR SPECIALTY.

Have more patterns, larger experience and capacity, and employ more mechanics than any other similar establishment within enty-flve miles of Terre Ilaute.

and see for yourself. 901 to 236 N. 9th St., near Union Depot Terre Haute, Ind.

Short and Direct Line

From Terre Haute to

Nashville, New Orleans, Savannah,

Montgomery,*^. t,

Chaneston.

^'Jacksonville.,

Only one change of cair. No Ferries. Na Transfers. Passengers cross the Ohio river on the new Steel Bridge at Henderson.

For fa form at Ionian tickets call on It. A. CAMI'iJKLL, General Agent, Tent Haute, Ind.

J^OW RATE $ Excursion Tickets

AWt

NOW ON SALE to

All

Summer Resorts

ria Chicago & Eastern Illinois 'V:. 8$ THREE TRAINS DAILY FROM

Terre Haute to Chicago Making close connection with all raate diverging. Call or write tor copies of

Tourists Guides,

Glvlnrt desert r-nisof WV. .ILL, i.u.Paas. Ajct iH

Chioiso,

of the various summer North and Vortbweat. R. A. CAMPBELL,

Genera) Ait, ON Wabash AvSMw