St. Joseph County Independent, Volume 21, Number 2, Walkerton, St. Joseph County, 3 August 1895 — Page 2

KSatlo s. Mr &&; IB® ifißSw MK sOj^b.

Ry Y U W oAR FANM A VY N s-:.'a;;(*” " i“t-‘f\;‘*' e \“fi“\n’:«" IR AN RSN, SR e Yo ¥ b i AV mas ' -"‘ 4&‘ }.(T‘ </% Y Vo ST\ TN Il CHAPTER XXXIII. Lady Grahame had grown tired of coquetry, and every interview that she had with Mr. I'ulton increased her liking and xuflhinhon for him. He had given a ball &t his house under the management of ~ were profuse indications of wealth, Fady - Grahame noted with a keen eye the dis- | ~ play of magnificence. [er house was| furnished with taste and elegance, but such spiendor as she saw here was not within her means. It would be very pleasant to preside as mistress in such an establishment. The next time Paul Fulton called on the fair widow he was more warmly welcomed than usual; nor was he slow to understand the reason why, and he continued that morning, despite his bland.t smiling face, to assume a most miserable expression. l “Do vou not think, Lady Grahame,” he said, ‘‘that you have tortured me quite long encugh? You smile on every one. iWhen will you smile upon me?” “I am smiling now, Mr. Fulton,” replied the widow, coquettishly; “ask Miss Lowe if I am ever seen without smiles.” “You know what I mean, Lady Grahame,” he continned. “When will you say to me that my devotion and sincere love have touched vou. and the prize 1 have hoped for so long is mine at last?” Lady Grahame did not turn away this time; she had made up her mind to hear all her lover had to say. “T will do my best to make you happy,” continued Mr. Fulton, reading correctly the coy expression of the comely face. “I am wealthy, and able to gratify ulll - your wishes. Tell me, Lady (}mhmuo,' are you willing to be my wife?” I The fair widow managed a most becoming biush as she implied, rather than said, she had no reason for deferring her consent. Mr. Fulton expressed a due amount of mapture and delight, and then began to plead for a speedy marriage. . “That does not quite rest with me,” said YT.ady Grahame. “My late husband, S’\r! Wilton, foresaw that I should probably \\ remarry, and expressed no wish to the | contrary. But by his will, I must inform you, that I (as well as the money left me) remain under the care of two trustees. One is my uncle, Lord Hereby; the other a distant cousin, Mr. Beauchamp. All‘ arrangements as to settlements must be‘ made with them, and it is in their power to refuse consent. I am quite in their hands.” i | “There is no reason to fear any refusal - orunpleasantness from them. I presume,” said Mr. Fulton proudly. “I will make them offers of settlements that will meet mvith their approbation.” “Their consent or ra2fusal is not really a matter of great moment,” said Lady Grahame. “If for any reason they refuse, the worst they can do is to limit my income, and control, in some degree, my money; but I do not anticipate anything of the kind. My uncle, Lord Hereby, is very proud. Fle would, I think. be pler.sed at my marringe—provided the pedigree, and fortune of my husband met with his approval, as they would do in this case,” ghe added, with a smile. At the word “pedigree,” a sudden fear chilled the bright hopes and fancies of Mr. Fulton. What if these tiresome old guardians or trustees should ask unpleasant questions about his family 7— what was he to say? It would be easy to invent, but these inventions were never sure; at any time they might fail, and the lies they concealed stand out in all bare deceit. He could only hope and trust that, satisfied with his vast wealth and liberal offers, the fair widow’s guardians would ask no tiresonme questions. So one morning he started for a private interview with the formidable trustees. Mr. Beauchamp, a nervous man, afraid of everything and everybody. said but little. He asked 3Mr. Fulton if he liked shooting, and if he had known Sir Wil‘on Grahame, two rather singular questions, considering the errand upon which he hsd come. | Lovrd Hereby mpas altogether of another cast. He was, perhaps, one of the proud- ; est and haughtiest men living. _l@ving§ - and admiring hiz'own order, disliking and | despizing all those who did not belong to it, in his eyes nothing was worthy of honor or esteem save high birth and noble blood. Genius, talents, bravery were all nothing when compared to the glory of a long pedigree; wealth, money had litde attraction for him. He was anxious to see his niece, Liady Grahame, married. provided she espoused a man of good birth and ample fortune. Yy hen Mr. Fulton stood before the two guardians of his promised bride, he dismissed one from his mind, and gathered all his rescurces for a combat with the other. He approached Lord Hereby with that mixture of deference and admiration that he knew so well how to assume. '‘Again he almost cursed the “accidents” of his life. If he could have appeared before Lord Hereby as the father of one of the most beautiful and noble swonmien in England, the young Countess of Bayneham, all would have been clear sailing; as it was, the anxious lover fired his heaviest guns first. He declared the object of his visit, the deep admiration he felt for Lady Grahame, and the munificent settlements he offered her, and I.ord Hereby listened teo him with well-bred indifference, “Lady Grahame is of an age to judge for herself what promises best for her own happiness,” he said. “She was young when Sir Wilton died; that is why he left us as her guardians, charging us, in the event of her second marriage, to act for her and attend to her interest. Your offer of settlement is, I feel bound to say, a munificent one, and so far everything scems satisfactory, but my niece belongs,

f as perhaps you know, Mr. Fulton, to a very aristocratic family, and we should like, before making any final arrangements, a few particulars of your own.” Then Paul Fulton stood at last before the barrier of his own erection and knew not what to say. “You do not doubt my claim to the title ;)lf gentleman, I presume?” he said, hasty. | “I neither doubt nor believe,” replied ‘l‘;lord ngeby,. with haughty indifference. n the interest of my niece I merely ask | for some particulars of your family.” | Again Paul Fulton stopped, hesitating what to say, "I know of no particulars, my lord, that could possibly interest you,” he said; “my father was simply & gniet country sontle said Lord Hereby; “at lcast, I DICSUMET SO?" ¥ 4PO R 1"7 S “No, never,” was the quick, false reply. - “Have you no relations living ¥ continued Lord Hereby, his quick eye reading the confusion visible ou the handsome, bland face before him. “None,” said Paunl Fulton. “I am quite alone in the world.” “We need not prolong this interview,” said Lord Hereby. “Mr. Beauchamp seldom expresses any opinion—l give you mine in a few words. I shall make no opposition to my niece's marriage with you; ~she can please herself; but 1 shall advise her agaivst it. Pardon my plain speaking, but I do not consider the son of a. simple country gentleman, of no great fortune or standing, by any means a desirable match for my niece; still, it she persists in wishing it, I shall make no op- ‘ position—she must not, in that case, look for my countenance. 1 shall decline any further interest in her affairs.” Paul Fulton trembled with indignation. | He had to remember that the nobleman before him was old and feeble, so great ‘ was his impulse to strike him. He had i expected a very different reception, arm- | ed with those magical settiements. 'This cool, aristocratic hauteur dismayed him. ! What was his money worth, after all? Heo ! | dared not trust himself to speak; he left i [ Lord Hereby's presence, chafing and | [ foaming with rage. ‘ ; As he mounted his horse there came to | himt the memory of a sweet voung face, ! with trusting eyes—the memory of one |\ who had loved him and believed him a | king amongst men. He had not been | scoffed and sneered at when he went woo-J '_ ing in Brynmar woods. i | These thoughts did wot calm him; he | i urged his horse on at full speed, uxin_s;[ ispm‘ and whip. The mettlesome stoed did not approve of such harsh measures, ‘ l)lany people turned to see who it wugi that rode so wildly with an angry face. i One or two policemen began to be Quitol active; there was glory to be won. and 3 cheaply, too. The rider, whoever he was, | | must be stopped and punished for endan- | gering the safety of the public. i No one ever knew how it happened, but | | while the policemen cousulted, and angry | ! foot passengers turned to look after the | } foaming steed and its rider, in one mo- | { ment the horse shied, then reared, and | | Paul Fulton was dashed to the ground. | ! For several yards he was dragged along | { by the frightened, half-maddened ani- i | mal; then arose from all lookers-on a ter- | | rible cry, and one or two brave men start- | ' ed off, and after some dangerous efforts succeeded in stopping the horse and rescuing his hapless rider. They thought he | was dead when he was raised from the | ! ground, for on the white face there was a { deep, crimson stain, and a wide, gaping ‘ wound on the head—he had fallen on the | curbstone. | In less than three minutes a large crowd | ! had assembled. *“A man killed!” “Fallen from his horse!” were the passwords. A doctor came up, and a policemian searched the unconscious man to discover who he | was and where he lived. He found a card ‘ case, and gave it to the doctor. ; | “He had better be taken to his own | house,”’ said the latter, when he saw it. | “I have heard of him, and know where he | lives.” f ! They carried him back to the house he | had left that morning so full of life and ; | hope; so full of ambitious designs :zndi | plans for his future life; strange }mndsi ! carried him up the broad staircase, and | | laid him upon his bed; strange hands cut I the thick, black hair where Magdalen’s | fingers had once lingered so lovingly; | | strange eyes dwelt upon his face, noting | | its changes. There was no one near who | loved him; he was in the world alone. ! The hopes, the sins, the schemes ¢f that | wasted life were all ended; the grand‘ i fiat had gone forth. He had won money, | he was rich and popular; but the end was | come, and he must die; a strange doctor, ! bending over him, saw there was no hope. | He touched him gently, and asked him if | he had any worldly affairs to settle. | The haggard eyes opened and glared j wildly—so wildly that the doctor started, ! shocked and half frightened. ‘_ “Do you mean,” said Paul Fulton, in a low. hoarse voice, ‘“that I am to die?” ' “Xecs' asgld the doctor gently: “it is | better that you should know the truth. You will not see this sun set. Make | your peace with God and man.” | : A moan of unutterable agony came from | L | the white lips. What shonld he do? | : Ie remembered his child. Poor Mag. | "I dalen was dead: he had seen the green | - grave and the simple stone that bore no | [ | name. But his child lived, the child 1 | with her mother's face, and her mothor's | - | voice. Perhaps she knew the same gen- | 3 | tle lessons that his wife had taught - | would she come to him? It mattered little f | about keeping the secret now. g It flashed across him that he had seen - | Lord Bayneham in town—how long since ? ? | —only yesterday. He would send for him - | and ask if it were possible that he could | see his wife. Science did wonderful n: 'Lhix;gs——suroly it could give him a few I' | hours. ;‘ “Y want to see IL.ord Bayneham,” he t| said, touching Dr. Arne’s hand; “let him s | be sent for at once.” r|{ It was fortunate that the messenger l‘! found Lord Bayneham at home. Ie re- , | ceived the summons \\"ith wonder fl.nd 5 i surprise. Mr. Fulton dymg—f:\nd sending , | for: him! Like an electric shock the

thought struck him it must be somethin about his lost wife. / % i . CHAPTER XXXIV. Fast as it was possible to o, Lord Bayneham hastened to the dyl¥g may. He heard from the butler, when be stod in the hall, every particular of the acds dent—he saw real, unfeigned tears shigh ing in the man’s eyes. 1 Mr. Fulton was loved by his inferioffs for his invariable kindness and god humor. Then he entered the luxuriouy chamber, where the master of the housy | lay, doomed and dying. P ‘ ; “Let him come near me,” said Pay | Fulton to Dr. Arne. “I have much to sa to him.” i | The doctor rose frons his seat, and mady way for Lord Bayneham. 3 Claude was inexpressibly shocked. &% lately he had seen Paul Fulton in : flush and pride of his manhood, his hand. some face smiling and care!es&——coui that pale, haggard man, with crimsojstained bandages upon his head, be i?‘ same who had saluted him so gayly a fdiy hours ago? "T&e wild eyes, full of terror, glared up at him. ¥ “I am dying, they say,” gasped thg hoarse, low voice. “I never feared mhn‘i but I am afraid to die.” 4 Lord Bayneham did not know what te NTB TERAREL -Al MBS SN a,;‘ X . 3 ~, A or z ‘& 7*‘""@;. % : ¥ ; “Doctor Arne tells me I shall not See thi sun set. Lord Baynebam, I wanc-tIH speak to you about your wife.” - o The young earl started. In the shock ¢ seeing that ghastly figure, he had fqg gotten for a moment that he expected hear of his lost love. ) “What of my wife?’ he said, gen ! for, even supposing that Paul Fulton hig caused all the sorrow and Suspense, o - was not possible to maintain the faint 2 gleam of anger against the shatterg® dying wreck before him. *“What of £ wife?” he asked again. & “l should like to see her,” whispers Paul FFulton. “I am dying, they say, ar : this is my last prayer. Let me see yof | wife once; let my last look be upon b | face.” : . “Do you know where she is?" ask§ i Lord Bayneham. a2 | “No,” was the calm reply: “at Bayvilk ; ham, I suppose. 1t is not too far, my | ‘ | There will be time if you send at oncell | Ah, then he knew nothing of her flig & i their half suspicions had been wrong. f | “Why do you wish to see my wife?7BE | asked; *“trust me—tell me.” g ! “I will, said Paul Fulton. *“I do i, ' know whether you have been iold @i | thing of your wife's history. I wan - . see her—oh, Lord Rayneham, I wani . | see her, because she is my only child.” ks - “Your ehild!"” eried Lord Baypeham - unutterable wonder, v ! . “Yes,” said Paul, “my child. s} - mother was the fairest and sweotest 88 in all Scotland, and she was my witly - When I saw your wife, Lord Baynehamn fi : E!lmu::m my own had returned to gy - again, young and lovely as I first kg | her. She is my daughter. I was 1388 ¢ ' Hutton's dearest friend; her mothe® JBe | ! Lady Hutton’s {oster-sister; Lady Hue gl adopted her when my wife joined @ oREg the seas.” : I There was silence for some fe LBl ments, and a thousand thonghts AaZge through Lord Bayneham's mind, This ol - plained all that seemed so mysteriousst | the notes—ah, and perhaps the interviesy “Why was this kept a secret from me’ T he said, sadly. “It has caused bitter s; ‘ i row."” - | Then the dying man told the whoi}! story as he kunew it, ] ‘ “I cannot understand,” said Lotg! Bayneham, gently, when the other hai | finished, “why you wished this to be kep! i a secret from me.” ¥ i “I dreaded it being known,” he replied } “As Stephen Hurst, I should have bee despised and outlawed; as I'aul l"nltm{ men have esteemed me. If I had claimed | my child, I must have told who I was§ She begged of me to tell you, but 1 woulé not." “ “She iz sacrificed to vour pride,” saié l.ord Bayneham. *“Tell me, an the evening you were at Bayncham did yvou meet?} my wife and your daughter.in the L:ld}"s’ Walk? Did youn talk to her there?”? : “Xes,' said Stephen Hurst, “I did so. 1 asked her to meet me there, and most ulz-é willingly she complied."” s t “You gave two notes into her hand,Y} | continued Lord Bayneham, sadly. % | “Yes,” replied Stephen: “but how do you | know, and why do you mention these { things?”’ | “Because they have helped to destroy { my wife,” cried the young earl; “she has | been sacrificed to your sins and your | pride. She was asked to explain those | notes and refused; she was asked why she | was in the Lady’'s Walk—her b:‘:u:olet! f' was found there—she would not tell; there | was some terrible mistake, and your i daughter has left her home. I know nots where she has gone; I cannot find her, and begin to despair of ever seeing hor agaiu Oh, if you had but told me the truth i ’ “Do not reproach me,” said the dyines P man; “has not my sin found nm‘% could bave died more easily with m¥% | child’s face near me. Through my own | fault this one hope is lost to me--I shal} | never see her again.” ' Ie lay there murmuring to himself that | | his sin had found him out. I'rom z',;;x\t! { moment, when he heard that his sin and | pride had destroyed his child, he seemed | to have no more hope. A blank, aw l'ull despair scized him; the expression of ]“Hi face alarmed Lord Bayneham. f “Can nothing more be done?”’ he askeqd | of Dr. Arne; “has he seen any one? Could % not some one pray with him 2 ‘ “If he wishes it,”’ sanid the doctor, “Lord | Bayneham,” he added, “I see many death- : beds, and the most wretched and dreary | death is always that of the \\nl'lnllin;:,i { who has never thought of the time whon { {he must die. Candidly speaking, my lord, { nothing ean be done for his body, and hl fear but little for his mind,” J 1 W ¥ " » - - R i We will drasw o curtain over that denth { . bed; they who were present neyvor forgof l i‘ it. The awful scene ended at last, and i the man who reaped as he had sown \\'vnt-‘ i to his judgment, | (o be continued,) The chief charm of Mary, Queen of Scots, was her voice. It was wondepfully sweet and attractive, and when { she used it in her peculiar coolng, pur | ring way, it was impossible for the or !(Hnm‘,\' man to resist its charm., BShe was an exeellent mugician, and her ren‘dit.inn of English and I'rench ballads I was said to be with remarkable grace i of expression.

! MURDER HIS TRADE, L oo H. H. HOLMES ACCUSED OF DIA- | EOLICAL CRIMES. ' More of Wis Devilishness Coming to | Light Every Day—Startling Discovi eriesMadein Chicago—Building with Mysterious Chambers—Bones Found, Fiend in Human Form, There is incarcerated in Moyamensing Prison, in Philadelphia, a man who, nc~} cording to his own admission, has deserved hanging a dozen times, and, if' guilty of half of the crimes laid at his | door, is, without doubt, the arch-criminal of America. The name he is known by l in prison is H. H. Holmes, but he has as | many aliases as a chameleon has colors, ‘ and, when at liberty, he could change | them as quickly. Holmes’ real name is Herbert, or Her- ’ man, Mudgett, and he was born in Gilmanton, N. H., about thirty-four years ago. IHis father was Levi H. Mudgett, and he was postmaster of Gilmanton Corners. He gave his son a good eduention, the boy graduating from the village academy with honor. | When but 18 young Mudgett ma"iidt 5. ¢ tor . Aliidge ipported wi or awhile, J“f'fi’y teaching school and after by | ¢lerking in a store. Then he took a notion to study medicine, and partly through f his parents’ and his wife's parents’ as- | sistance he become a student in the Uni- ! [ versity of Vermont, at Burlington. His ; fwife in the meantime supported herself | fas a dressmaker. By and by Mudgett ! went to the medical college at Ann Arbor, Mich. Here he run out of funds. He | and a chum went to work during the sum- ! mer vacation on a farm. One day it oc- | curred to Mudgett that i* was possible to | obtain a quantity of money by swindling a i life insurance company. 1t is said that he ‘ | told his plan to his chum, who at once fell | in with it. The chum had his life insured | i under a fictitious name, and shortly after | they procured a body from the pickling | I vat of a mediecal college, Loxed it up and !

" R T e TBBTN o R, %’ .>- D — ’ : XAy ‘-“\ v . . ATR ) ™ | AP T O «» | | ' . 3 " N»e fil ‘;z;‘.,nl\ -mfl'mfin‘“ - —.‘i:."‘,,:\'s‘m.: d' -J,vak : ——— | YRS TN B oS iR 5 e @ly BRI R l - o | Rases R :}! §is e EAPR 5 eGI T l |V s = e e A e it . = "yl I RETT TR A T — — | ;-. Bl L ifiLfiwr »ld® ! =1 t o A . i s S e E s ‘;f‘- - h.g i*::"' x’l‘{ L fi_i i, b, } E : ~J . —SSRN TR I Ll RN | L o~ Y@ O ST 15 TSl] D bT T A o hio T ; NEE Lo PO R iN-—— it 514 j | Jfl oSRAN e | TS NG d‘.fith“l { e e i CURERT eSS | n i s | 3 gt i 00, CRlienßETy , . L st ) LSRRI T | e— LR | =N (N {/ ; @-‘fl \‘ » T — ' o ’ : \ PP TR . o - NS i i i _,nfi’xfl/ .\ ot ,"‘1 e i | N 1} .N v »\;_\\;""-f:x;-::gf\\ 's\ e | e i :‘* - .~— ee T \ W | .\_;\ ’ \"\\'M'\':m\\.\ /,.:y’ = o, ), 4l) ——e T R—y ,;,‘f/"\\ T ~,l‘\ ) - “\\\\7% e, O \\\\"' i : THE HOLMES BUILDING IN CHICAGO. ‘ B {The star shows Holines' offies.) ! e |

e e PSSt NS g B S ggARSN o (e Tt N SS B e shipped it to Connecticut. Then it was | given out that the chum had died. the ! body was palined off as his, and Mudgett got the insurance money, some $12.500. | . After securing his degree, Mudgett be- | gan the practice bf his profession at | Moore's Pork, in his State. His wife was | with him for awhile. She bore him a | child, and then went back to her parents | on a prolonged visit. s Commits Bigamy, i The young doctor built up a fairly good | practice, but did not ask his wife to re- | ' turn to him, as‘h(- thought his field of ac- t fion too circumscribed and he talked of | going to Chicago to establish bimsulf{ there. His was a flirtatious nature, and ! i meeting an adventuress in Boston, he ! married her. She soon found that his | ‘means were poor and left him. Then he | paid his real wife a visit and told her he | was going west. That was the last she ‘ had heard of him for several years. Be- | lieving that she was deserted she went to | hard work as a dressmaker to support' berself and her child. . Holmes, by which name he is afterwardknown, then entered into various schemes {in Chicago. He employed a typewriter {mamed Minnie Williams. He learned that i : e < a3 i 3 P a7 s s S ey ,“‘ i i : Rl AO/ /A - TRy FRRE Y ¥ | .\:;3«< R !;w ;»t wenAGhE o 5 & !;ml { u 4] A - A et A > S eSR N e I ;'\l\' ‘.\ b.-W L | o N | e R/ e &.:'Jf.mfl’:“ y,-na* By iy U o™ ¥ %) = , ¢ D i s HOLMIIR IN 1118 CELY. ’ she und hor gister wore worth £50,000 and detormined to have the money. HMHe persunded Minnie to live with him. Then they sent for her sister Anvie. The lattor soon disnppeanred and no elue has ever won found of her wherenbouts, It was | Aot long after shis that Minnie also dis appenred, Then Holmes met Benjamin 17, Pitozel. They laid a plan to defraud the Fidelity Mutun! Life Insurance Company of PPhilndelphin. Pitezel took out a palicy, for SIO,OOO, In September last the body of o man wir found in a certain house in Philndelphin, By his side was a broken bottle of corbolle acid, He was identified nt the thne ns the man who, under the name of B. I, Perry, had rented the honse some time before. The doctors snid he had died in a natural manner. The wody was buried in the Potter's field. Then slolmes came forward with a man named ilowe to represent Mrs. Pitezel,

e S ——— e e e == who claimed that the body was that of hes husband. It was exhumed and she identified it. The insurance money was paid. The largest share went to Holmes. He then persuaded Mrs. Pitezel to let him take care of three of her five children, She agreed and he took them with him. | They have not bzen seen since, dead or! alive, until the finding last week of the bodies of two of them in the cellar of a house in Toronto, Ont., and every circumstance indicates that they were murdered by Holmes. Holmes A_vested. In some way the insurance company became suspicions. When Mrs. Pitezel was pressed she admitted that the whole ' thing was a conspiracy and that Pitezel, l she believed, was alive. She wasarrested, as was Howe. Then the detectives chased 'II()lmes from city to city until they ar}rostod him in Boston. Pitezel has never { been found and the beliéf is strong that he was murdered by Holmes. When the children could not be located d tectives began to hunt for them. They were ‘ B (e ! % Yot "\»7 “ ! :q.,,_.r;.,; | '} " s R | gfie ’I;A( I 7 Pl _ ebs % 5 ~:: < “; MINNIE WILLIAMS. ANNIE WILLIAMS. ‘ tracked with Holmes to Detroit. Then one of them scems to have disappeared. ’ The other two were traced to Toronto. ! llt was discovered that Holmes rented a | | certain house in that city and that he had ‘ two children with him. A search was | ' made. The earth forming the floor of the } cellar had been disturbed. The detectives | began to dig and soon they uncovered the | ' nude bodies of the two children. Where | the other one is, whether dead or alive, f - whether or not their father is living, and | - whether or not Minnie and Annie \'\'il‘.-f fams were murdered are matters the police | and detectives are trying to solve. That | the Williams girls met death at the hands | of Holmes, there is scarcely a doubt. | That they died in Chicago in a violent | ' manner has been proved almost cnnchx-i

i sively, The police found in a stove in a% | three-story brick building at 701 63d | | street, which was built by Holmes and | i in which both he and the Williams girls | i lived, a guantity of charred bones, l»ut-] | tons known to have been on a dress owned | { by Minnie Williams, and the partly melt- ' i ed portion of a wateh chain which was | | positively identified as having been theé i property of the girl. The contents of the | stove were quickly dumped, and portion | !of bones too badly burned to admit of' | positive ideutification as belonging to any ] particular portion of the body were found } } All of the ashes and debris removod‘ ‘fmm the stove was carefully preserved. | IThe police are now of the opinicn that | { not only Minnie Williams but her young- | § er sister, Anna, and the boy Howard Pit- | | zel met death in this house. Anna \Vill-[ | inms has not been seen or heard of since i i Holmes left the 63d street building. If | I she has fallen victimn to Holmes’ murder | { ous instinets she will be the sixth he hay | killed—Pitezel, his three children and the ; two Williams girls. | | Holmes pleaded guilty to conspiracy in | defrauding the insurance edmpanies out | of about $250,000, and was awaiting sen- ! tence therefor when the bodies of th'eg children were found and the suspicionl that he murdered Pitezel was aroused, | Os course he disclaims ail knowledge of ] the manner of their death. EXPRESS IS HELD UP. ' G s —— Chicago Limited on the LaXke Shore { Maked gl by R - Masked men boarded a West-bound | Lake Shore and Michigan Southern ex- | press train at Reece Siding, Ind., at 12:33 ! Wednesday morning, forced open an ex- : press car and at the point of revolvers ‘ compelle { the messenger to unlock thef l gafe. Itis known that at least SB,OOO was | [ taken. The train is a heavy one, made up | | of several express cars, baggage and mail | cars, two coaches and three Pullmans. ! Reece Siding s a lonely spot in the | woods, between Archbold and Stryker, | about ten miles west of Wauseon, A blind sliding is used by this train nightly | to allow the western express {o pass. This | usual stop is well known to those familiar | with the locality. Ifor a mile in each di- | rection the woods are dense close to the ! railroad right of way. { The noise of the coming western o.\‘-! press was ringing louder and louder when s Conductor Darling, who stood by a coach, l i saw three masked men ride out of a road | from the woods which led directly to an | express ear which erossed it. He was ordered inside the coach and at the same timme three men, approaching the other pide, joined their companions in demanding admission to the express car, This was gained at revolvers’ points, and the i express messenger, under threats of in- | stant death, was compelled to open the | safe. The entrance to the express car was made quickly and no commotion was created in the other cars. The robbers geemed to know just how to handle the railroad men and to board the cars. Their evident familiarity with cars and the time I the trains met give rise to suspicions that they are railroad men. e l

“‘ ———— el T UTILIZING EXTRA HORSES. Reduced to Oil, Gine and Fertilizers by Reason of‘the Bicycle. A novel enterprise is being projected near Portland, Ore., by a number of energetic men. It{sa wmanufactory for utilizing the vast number of horses of the Northwest by turning them into oil, glue and fertilizing material, extraeting their superior tallow, and preservIng the hair and skin for use in various ways. To this end a corporation known as the Western Packing and Fertilizing Company was organized about a month ago, a factory is now in progress of coaStruction, and by July 1 it will be in full operation. 'The managers expect to kill between fifty and sixty horses a day. They say that the introduction of electricity and the bieyele throughout the country has so curtailed the need of horses that large bands in Oregon and Washington have almost no value. The railroads refuse to ship them to the East, unless the freight is ‘ paid in advance, fearful that they will not there Dbring enough to pay the { freight bill. : The only way, therefore, to reduce the large numbers grazing on the great | ranches, each eating about as much ~as two head of more valuable cattle, is |to grind them up. The company has bought between 5,000 and 6,000 head, at a cost of $3 each on the ranches, and they believe they can get a great many more at about the same price. These horses used to readily sell at §SO each. But prices have fallen so low that one band of between 1,000 and 1,100 head, grazing partly in Oregon and partly in | Idaho, was sold lately for the lump ’ sum of $2,000. It would probably cosE ins much more, however, to *“gather” { them, to use the colloquial term of the 3 drovers and dealers. | At this new manufactory what is : termed as the “tankage” is to be used as a fertilizer. The tankage is the | meat of the horses, cooked by steaming 5 and reducing to a mass very suitable Ifnr all kinds of fertilizing purposes. I The fertilizer is to go to Haswaii, where it will be used on the sugar plantation. The owners have closed no contracts, however, though they say they would | be willing to do so at one cent a pound. "l‘lwy would sell to anybody at that | rate, always making it clear, however, t that it was horse meat, and on no other understanding. However, to furnish [ meat for consumption is not their ob- ! Jeet. A small quantity, however, may | be sent to Europe as an exXperiment, as | in some parts of Europe horseflesh is |lwiug used for food.—San Francisco ! Examiner, , ety St e i l In a Tiger's Jaws. | Lord Hastings, wics his staff of offi- | cers, was on a tiger hunt. A splendid | animal had been shot. Every one supposed it to be dead, and with the rash‘“nen vorn of inexperience and excitement Major 8. rushed up to it. At that | moment the tiger recovered himself, | and with a rear of mingied rage and g pain turned upon Major 8. ‘ The young man discharged his pistol { at the brute's head, but with no effect. | The weapon was knocked from his | hand and sent flying a dozen yards i away. The tiger bore thie man down, | seized him by the right shoulder, and { lifting him bodily from the ground | started toward the jungle. | The other men were powerless. No | one dared shoot for fear of hitting the | man. The brute, seeking probably to | get a better hold of his victim, gave ' him a shake and an upward fling, as a | cat might toss a mouse, and caught him | by the thigh. This liberated the major's right arm., . which, protected by the padded cloth ' of his coat had not been injured. He ; reached to his hip pocket, drew forth ' his second pistol. and placing the weai pon to the tiger's ear, fired. “I never . felt calmer in my life,” he said afterl ward. ; The animal dropped dead, but in dying his jaws closed convulsively, crush- | ing the muscies and tendons of the ma- ! jor's thigh. Lord Hastings and his brother officers hurried forward to cons gratulate the major on his coolness and | lucky escape. Save for the injury to | his thigh, which resulted in slight lame- | ness, Major S. was none the worse for | his ugly adventure.—Youth's Compan--3 ion. A Hygienic Floor. | For hygienic purposes, the floors of | the hospital wards in Lyons, France, ? are covered with a solution of parafiin i in petroleum, which gives them a brown .' tint and makes them impervious to 3 “everything.”” A single application is | said jolastbyogents. Lhusprepared, l the floors ¢an De wiped daily with a ' dainj\ ("i'o;hv, Inoistened with some antilsvmic solution. The floors of school | rooms, barracks, ete., and of private ! houses, when uncarpeted, ean be treat- { ed in the same manner with advantage. ; Boring for Heat. | Some one has suggested the sinking of | a shaft 12,000 or 15,000 feet into the ' earth for the purpose of utilizing the central heat of the globe. It is said that such a depih is by no means impossible, with the improved machinery and advanced methods of the coming engineer, Water at a temperature of 200 degrees centigrade, which can, it is said, pe obtained from these deep borings, would not only heat houses and public buildings, but would furnish power that could be utilized for many purposes. A Queen’s Hobby., Queen Margherita of Italy bhas a curious hobby, the collection of shoes. She has a pair that belonged to Joan of Arc; those worn by Mary, Queen of Scots, on her way to the scaffeld; a pair of slippers of Marie Antoinette, and shoes once owned by Ninon Len- . clos and by Queen Louise of Prussia. Her dearest treasures, however, are. the knitted silk socks and the little leather shoes first worn by the Prince of Naples s