6 THE DAYS WORK. Do thy day's work, my dear. Though fast and dark the clouds are drift ing near. Though time lias little 'oft lor hope and vary much for fear Do thy day's work, though now The hand must falter and the head must bow. And far above the falling foot shows the bold mountain brow Yet there Is left for us. Who, on the valley's verge, stand trem bling thus, A light that lies far in the west—soft, faint, but luminous. We can give kindly speech And ready, helping hand to all and eaeh, And patience to the young around by smil ing silence teach. We can give gentle thought And charity, by life's long lesson taught, Arid wisdom, from old faults lived down, by toil and failure wrought. We can give love, unmarred By selfish snatch of happiness, unjarred By the keen aims of power or joy that make youth cold and hard. And, if gay hearts reject The gifts we hold, would fain fare on un checked. On the bright roads that scarcely yield all that young eyes expect. Why, do thy day's work still. The calm, deep founts of love are slow to chill: And Heaven may yet the harvest yield, the work-worn hands to till. —All the Year Hound. THE STURGIS WAGER « 4 A DETECTIVE STORY. i £ % By EDGAR MOrtETTE. £ fC Copyright, 18W, by Frederick A. Btoke3 Co. J V.-#) CHAPTER II. —CONTINUED. "That is just the point," replied Sturgis; "another witness will be biased by his interests or prejudices, blinded by jealousy, love or hatred, or handicapped by overzealousness, stupidity, lack of memory, or what not. Circumstantial evidence is al ways impartial, truthful, absolute. When the geologist reads the history of the earth, as it is written in its crust; when a Kepler or a Newton formulates the immutable laws of the universe, as they are recorded in the motions of the heavenly bodies, they draw their conclusions from evidence which is entirely circumstantial." "Yes; but you forget that science has often been mistaken in its con clusions," interrupted Sprague, "so that it has constantly been necessary to alter theories to fit newly acquired or better understood facts." "Granted," rejoined Sturgis. "but that is because the interpreters of the evidence are fallible; not because the evidence itself is incomplete. The «ame cause will always produce the same effect; the same chain of events will invariably terminate in one and the same catastrophe. The apparent deviations from this law are due to unrecognized differences in the pro ducing causes, to additional or miss ing links in the chain of evidence. Therefore I hold that a criminal, however clever he may be, leaves be hind him a complete trace of his every act, from which his crime may be re constructed with absolute certainty by a competent detective." "In short, 'Murder will out!'" said a man who had been a silent listener to the conversation up to this point. He spoke with a quiet smile, which barely escaped being a polite sr.eer. Sturgis' keen eyes met his inter locutor's as he replied gravely: "I should hardly care to make so sweeping an affirmation, Dr. Mur dock. I have merely stated that the history of every crime is indelibly written in tangible evidence. The writing is on the wall, but of course a blind man cannot see it, nor can an illiterate man understand it. Every event, however trivial, owes its occurrence to a natural cause, and leaves its indelible impress upon na ture. The Indian on the trail reads with an experienced eye the story of his enemy's passage, as it lias been recorded in trodden turf and broken twigs; while the bloodhound follows, with unerring judgment, a still surer though less tangible trail. The tat ter's quarry has left behind, at every step, an invisible, imponderable, and yet unmistakable part of itself. Per haps my meaning can be made clear by an illustration. When a photog rapher in his dark room takes an ex posed plate from his »amera. it is ap parently a blank; but in reality there is upon this plate the minutely de tailed history of an event, which, in psoper hands, can be brought before the least competent <>f observers as Irrefutable evidence. Here, the actinic rays of the sunlight are the authors of the evidence; but every natural force, in one way or another, con spires with the detective to run the criminal to earth." "Unless," suggested Murdock, "the ability happens to be on the side of the quarry; in which case, the conspiracy of nature's forces turns against the hunter." "Ah!" retorted the rejiorter, "the game is not an equal one. The dice are loaded. For while on the one hand the detective, if he falls into au error, has a lifetime in which to correct it, any misstep on the part of the criminal is fatal. And who is infallible?" "Not the detective, at any rate," an swered Murdock, with suave irony. "It has always seemed to me that the halo which has been conferred upon him. chiefly through the efTorts of imagin ative writers of sensational fiction, is entirely undeserved. In the first place, most of the crimes of which we heat are committed either by men of a low order of intelligence or else by madmen, in which latter category I include all criminals acting under the impulse of any of the passions—hatred, love, jeal ousy. anger. And then,'while the de tective takes good care that his suc cesses shall be proclaimed from the housetops, he is equally careful to smother all accounts, of to suppress every detail, of his failures, whenever there is any possibility of so doing. You can cite, I know, plenty of cases in which, even after the lapse of years, the crime has been discovered and the criminal has been confronted with his guilt, but—" "In my opinion," piped the shrill voice of an elderly man of clerical aspect, "conscience is the surest detective, after all." "Conscience!" retorted Murdock, calmly; "the word is a euphemism. Man gives the name of conscience to his fear of discovery and punishment. There is no such thing as conscience in the criminal who has absolute confi dence in his power to escape detec tion." "Rut where is the man who can have that superb confidence in himself?" asked Sprague. "His name is probably legion." an swered Murdock, quickly. "He is the author of evei'3' crime whose history remains forever unwritten." "And are these really so numerous.?" "Let us see how the case stands in one single class of crime—say, for in stance, murder. Whenever the solu tion of a sensational murder mystery is effected by the detectives, or by their allies, the gentlemen of the press, like our friend Mr. Sturgis. we, the gullible public, vociferously applaud the achievements of these guardians of the public safety, and forthwith pro ceed to award them a niche in the tem ple of Fame. So far. so good. Rut what of the dark mysteries which re main forever unsolved? What of the numerous crimes of which uo one ever even knows?" "Oh! come now, doctor." laughed Sprague, "isn't it rather paradoxical to base your argument on the assumption of crimes of whose very existence you admit you have no knowledge?" Murdock smiled grimly as he replied: "Goto the morgue of any large city, where the unrecognized dead are ex posed for identification. Aside from the morbid crowd which is drawn to such a place by uncanny curiosity, you will find that each corpse is anxiously scanned by numbers of people, each of whom is seeking a missing friend or relative. At the most each body can furnish the key to only one mystery. Then what of the scores, ay, the hun dreds of others?" After a short pause, he continued: "No; murder will not out —at least not when the criminal is what I might call a professional, a man of genius in his vocation, educated, intelligent, dis passionate, scientific. Fortunately for the reputation of the detective, ama t«ir and professional, the genius in tlTe criminal line is necessarily of a modest and retiring disposition. He cannot call the public attention to his ingenu ity and ski 11; he cannot puff his achieve ments in the daily press. Not only are his masterpieces unsigned, but they re main forever unheard of. The detec tive is known only by his successes; the criminal's reputation is based sole ly upon his failures." Dr. Murdock delivered this parting shot with the cool deliberateness which "AH: THIS WII.T. DO." was characteristic of the man. The in solent irony of his words was empha sized by tjie calmness of his bearing. "I say, doctor," laughed Sprague. "you have missed your vocation. You should have adopted the profession of scientific criminal yourself. You seem to possess the theory of the science as it is. and a little experience would no doubt have made you au adept iu the practice as well." A look of mild amusement passed over Murdock's countenance. "Perhaps you are right, Mr. Sprague. At any rate, I think 1 may affirm, with out overweening conceit, that if I had followed the course you suggest, I could have prepared for your friend Mr. Sturgis some pretty little problems on which to sharpen his wits. I feel that I could have been an artist as well as a scientist in that line." "You might console yourself by writ ing an interesting and valuable book, under some such title as 'Hints to the Y'oung Criminal,' or 'Crime as a Fine Art.' At all events, your criminals of genius have a stanch advocate in you. Rut what on earth have the detectives done to you to call forth this whole sale vitueration?" "Nothing. Rut, as a disinterested ob server. I like to see fair play. If lam mistaken in my estimation of the mod ern detective, I am open to conviction. I have $,1,000 to wager against SIOO that I can pick up any daily paper and from its columns select an unsolved riddle, to which no detective on the face of the earth can give the answer. Have I any taker, gentlemen?" As he spoke, his eyes met- Sturgis' and suddenly seemed to flash with an earn est defiance, which instantly melted in to the calm, cynical smile of the man of the world. "Done," said Sturgis, quietly. "Very well, Mr. Sturgis," observed Dr. Murdock, indifferently. "I shall confine myself to the columns of your own newspaper for the selection of the I problem upon which you are to work. CAMERON COUNTY PRESS, THURSDAY, AUGUST 10, 1900. "And,"he added, with a supercilious smile, "you are at liberty to fix the limit of time iu which the wager must be decided." "Hear! hear!" exclaimed a young broker. "This is becoming interesting, and promises some sport for those of us who are giddy enough to enjoy stak ing something on this novel contest. I, for one. am willing to lay reasonable odds ou the sid® of law and order, as represented by the enlightened press, in the person of our clever friend Stur gis. Come, Chadwick, will two to one against the scientific criminal tempt you to champion the cause of that ap parently unappreciated individual?" "Very well. Fred," answered the man addressed; "I'll take 3*oll for a hun dred." A few similar bets were laug-liingly arranged and a copy of the Evening Tempest was sent for. CHATTER 111. DR. MURDOCK'S PROBLEM. Spargue's stag dinner was virtually over when a servant brought in a copy of the Evening Tempest. The dessert had been removed, the coffee and liqueurshad been served, and the guests had lighted their cigars. The host passed the newspaper to Dr. Murdock, who proceeded to glance leisurely through its columns. "Ah! this will do," he exclaimed, at last. "Here is something which will, I think, answer our purpose —" "MYSTERIOUS SHOTS IN WAI.L STREET. WHO FIRED THEK? STORY OF A STRAY SATCHEL. THE POLICE PUZZLED. "While on his beat, at a quarter past five o'clock this afternoon. Policeman John Flynn, hearing the report of a pistol from the direction of the Knickerbocker bank—" "The Knickerbocker bank!" inter rupted the young broker. "Mr. Dunlap, that interests you. Do your directors indulge in pistol practice at the board meetings?" "What is that about the Knickerbock er bank?" asked the man to whom this speech was addressed. Having- been en gaged with las neighbor in an earnest discussion on financial questions, lie had not been listening to the general conversation. Murdock adjusted his eyeglasses and quietly resumed: "Policeman John Flynn. hearing the re port of a pistol from the direction of the Knickerbocker bank, in Wall street, start ed at the top of his speed toward that build ing. When he was within about 20 yards of the bank another shot rang out, and at the same Instant a man darted down the steps and ran toward Broadway." Richard Dunlap, president of the Knickerbocker bank, was listening at tentively enough now. Rehind the calm mask of the financier there was the evi dent anxiety of the bank president. For the stability of a bank, like the honor of a woman, is at the mercy of every passing rumor. "He carried In his hand a small satchel, which he dropped as soon as he saw that he was pursued. After an exciting chase Flynn overtook his man, whom he recog nized as Michael Quinlan, alias Shorty Duff, a well-known sneak thief. On the way back to the bank the policeman ques tioned his prisoner about the pistol shots. Quintan vehemently denied having tired them; but admitted that he had stolen the satchel. His story is that, as he was passing the bank, the outer door v. as ajar Seeing the satchel 111 the vestibule, he en tered, crouching low In order to avoid be ing seen through the inner door, the upper portion of which is of plate glass. Scarc«- ly had he laid his hands upon the satchel when he was startled by the report of a pistol. For a moment he was dazed and undecided how to act. Then, as no one seemed to take any notice of his presence, he was quietly slipping off, when a second shot was tired. Panic-stricken, he took to his heels, only to be captured by Flynn. "On reaching the bank Flynn found the outer door closed, but not fastened. The heavy iron gate between It and the Inner door was securely locked, however, so that it was impossible to enter. The Knick erbocker bank has a second entrance on Exchange place. But this, too, Is protect ed by a massive iron gate, which also was found locked. Flynn rapped for assistance, and the call having been answered by Po licemen Kilpatrick and O'Donnell, he left the former to watch the Exchange place door, and the latter to guard the entrance on Wall street, while he took his prisoner to the police station. "Messengers were at once dispatched to the house of Richard Dunlap. the presi dent of the bank, and to that of Mr. George S. Rutherford, the cashier. The former was not at home, and the family being out o' town, there was no one who knew where he was spending the evening." Every eye turned toward Richard Dunlap as this paragraph was read. His features remained impassive, under the full control of the veteran finan cier; but to an observant eye-like Stur gis', the man's real anxiety was be trayed by the unconscious action of his right hand, which lay upon the table and played nervously with a fork. "Yes," said the banker, carelessly, feeling the curious gaze of the oilier guests upon him, and answering their unspoken questions, "yes, that is trne; I did not tell my housekeeper that. I was invited to dine by our friend Sprague this evening. There was, of course, 110 reason why I should. Well, Dr. Murdock, did they liud Ruther ford ?" Murdock had looked up while the banker was speaking. He now leisure ly found his place and continued the reading of the article in the Tempest: "Tho cashier fortunately was at home, and he hurried down town at once with Ms set of bank keys. Two detectives from tlie central office accompanied him, and the three men carefully searched the premises. They found nothing out of the way there, except that three gas Jets were lighted and turned on full blaze. At first the detectives were inclined to think that bank robbers had gained an entrance to the building; and that one of them, having caught sight of Shorty Duff as he reached into steal tlie satchel from the vestibule, had tired upon him. This would explain the pistol shots heard by Flynn. A careful examination of the bank, however, failed to reveal any trace of a bullet. "The valise, when opened, proved to con tain only a change of linen for a man ami a few toilet articles of but slight Intrinsic value. The satchel itself is an ordinary cheap leather handbaff, stamped in lmiia.- tion ot alligator skin. "The police are now looking for Its owner In the that he ifrill b« able to throw some right on the mystery of the platvt shots." When Dr. Murdock had'finished read ing', everybody, excert Dunlap and Sturgis, looked disappointed. The former settled back in his chair, the muscles of his face relaxed, and the anxious bank president once more be came the genial and polished man of the world. The reporter sat gazing thoughtfully at his wineglass. "Well. Mr. Sturgis," said Murdock, "what do you think of my little prob lem?" "I have already been assigned to work up this case for the Tempest," an swered the reporter, quietly. "Indeed? Perhaps you are the au thor of this very article? No? Then are you willing to make the solution of this little mystery the subject of our wager and the test of your theo ries?" "Hold on, doctor," exclaimed Sprague; "you are doing Sturgis an injustice. Why pick out, as a test of his ability, a problem which, to all in tents and purposes, has already been solved by the police? Give him some truly knotty question and he will be in his element; and then, at least: some interest will attach to your wager." "Ah! j'ou think the problem has al ready been solved ?" "To be sure. The article yon ha*e read us started out as if it were going to prove interesting; but, instead of that, it ends in an anti-climax. What is the crime here? The confessed t heft, by a petty sneak thief, of a satchel worth, with its contents, perhaps eight or ten dollars. And where is the mys tery? The ownership of a few pieces of unmarked linen of so little value that the owner does not care to take the trouble to claim them." "I cannot agree with you, Mr. Sprague. While the crime in this case may be a petty theft, it contains, to my mind, interesting features, which you appear to lose sig-ht of in your disdain ful summary. The problem, it seems to me, involves a suitable explanation of two rather mysterious pistol shots, to say nothing of such minor details as lighted gas jets behind securely locked gate.s. As Mr. Sturgis has informed us, in his earnest and lucid way, every ef fect has a cause. I should like to know the cause that lighted the gas in the Knickerbocker bank." "I shall probably find out that cause the day after to-morrow." said Mr. Dunlap, smiling, "and I shall give the fellow a talking to for his carelessness in forgetting to turn out the gas when he locked up." "Mr. Dunlap's suggestion," contin ued Murdock, "is plausible in itself, and we might even assume that the same careless employe, after locking up the bank, forgot to close the outer door on the Wall street side. Rut even then, we have not disposed of the own ership of the satchel nor of the two pis tol shots. The police theory that these shots were fired by bank robbers seems, 1 admit, very far-fetched. Profession al cracksmen would hardly be likely to fire unless cornered; and then they would tire to kill or at least to disable. If their bullets failed to hit the mark, they would at any rate leave some trace." ITo Be Continued ] ORIGIN OF 9CUTAGE. X Feudal Tni That Wan Kmc ted fu the Time of llenry 11. of lOnt; lan «l. The tax or feudal payment known as "scutage" is in all our books de scribed as a device introduced by Henry 11. in 11SG or 115U, by which his tenants in chief, the feudal nobles of England, were allowed or required to pay a fixed sum in money in lieu of the fulfillment of the military re quirements of their tenure, that is, to serve the king in the field with a cer tain number of followers. This, says the International Monthly, was sup posed to have had the twofold advan tage —indeed, to have been introduced for the twofold purpose—of providing the ambitious king- with money with which to hire a more mobile and ef fective military force, and of weak ening the military habits of the great vassals. It appears, however, on close er investigation, that scutages had been collected before the time of Henry 11., and that they were not so much commutations of military service as a special form of feudal imposition scarcely distinguishable from the aid or the donum, though, it is true, col lected when otherwise a summons to actual military service might have been expected. This is not the only instance where a closer study of tho records has recently deprived famous rulers of the traditional credit of ini tiating far-reaching lines of policy. Oh, Thone Dnir Glrlx. "Poor fellow!" she said, "ile pro posed, bnt I had to refuse him." "Ah!" exclaimed her dearest fariend. "Then that explains it." "Explains what?" "Rrother Tom said the men at the club were all congratulating him on something or other last night."—Chi cago Post. Canae fin<l Kffeet, "I hear the tenor is laid up with a sprained ankle," said the church choir baritone. "Yes," giggled the soprano, "he slipped up on an organ peal." —Phila- delphia Record. How Commerce WorW«. Grocer—Rroomcorn has gone up. Clerk —What's that for? Grocer—Why, stupid, to keep uj, with the way we've raised the price of brooms.- —Chicago Record. So They Do. "Do people ever have corns any where except on their feet?" "Why, yes; farmers have corn in the ear."—PUiUideljilua Bulletin. ADRIFT ON A 11A FT. Thrilling Experience of a Boy in the Gulf of Mexico. Seven Day* lie ll.nl Spent on Hi* I.lttll Kloutlutc Floor—lnipreuloni of a rilot Who Would Hat Change His Course. There is sometimes a providence that directs man's actions and the ex perience of an old pilot with head* quarters at .New Orleans seems to bear out the assertion. His story cannot be better told than in his own words: "Men in our line of business have plenty of queer experiences," he said, "but I tniilk the strangest that ever fell to my lot happened in ISO 3, right after the great hurrican that swept down the south coast and drowned so man}' poor fisher folks on the little islands. The storm blew itself away on a Sunday," the pilot went on."and next Sunday morning, having nothing in particular to do, I decided to take our steamer, which was a handly little 12-knot craft, and go for a two-hours' run into the gulf froai South T'oint to see what I could see. The water was still full of driftwood and wreck age from the fishermen's cabins, but we noticed nothing in particular until we had been out about an hour. Then one of the men on the boat sighted a big red canbuoy over to the sou'west. It was a government mark that had broken away from its moorings and he suggested that we go and see where it belonged. Ordinarily I would have said all right, but something, I don't know what or why—made me refuse. '.No,' said I. 'we won't change our course. Keep her hea'l straight out for an hour longer and maybe we'll see something better than runa way red cans.' I had no idea that my words would come true, but in about half an hour we came in sight of a little raft dead ahead of us. and as we got nearer we made out what seemed to be a child on fop of it.. We ran to within a couple of hundred feet before we stopped, and tnen we saw that the raft was evidently the tloox /"V-> v ~ — l ' ADRIFT ON A RAFT. (After the Poor Boy Had Been Floating Around a Week.) of some fishermai#* cabin. The child was a boy of 14 or thereabouts and he was sitting down with his head hanging forward on his breast and his arms stretched out, clutching the planks. lie looked for all the world as if he was dead, but he was only asleep, and when I rang the bell he straightened up all of a sudden and glared at the ship like a person in a dream. All he had on was a little shirt anil while we lowered a small boat and pulled over to him he sat just so, staring and' saying not a word. He had strength enough to climb in, but when he reached the ship he fainted. "The poor boy had been on the float ing floor for seven days and 12 hours,'' continued the pilot. He was the son of a Gascon oysterman, who lived on Grand Isle, and the hurricane had caught him alone in the cabin. It tore the ramshackle hut to pieces in an in stant, and he found himself adrift on the floor, which had miraculously hung together. How he had lived through thestorinis one of those mysteries that can never be explained, but he was car ried far off the coast, and next morning was out of sight of land in the open gulf. Then followed a solid week spent on that handful of naked boards without food, water or shelter of any kind. I have been a seafaring man all my life, and have known of many won derful escapes from death on the deep waters, but never of anything to com pare with this. The boy had to lie down on the raft to keep from falling off, and when lie grew weak thecrafish bit him from head to foot until he was a mass of wounds. He had been a very strong, sturdy lad, and before the storm had weighed 160 pounds. When we rescued him he weighed less than 100. "Of course, most <»f what I hava related we learned several days after ward, when he was strong enough to talk. As soon as we got him aboard we headed for South Point. IS miles away, for, as bad luck would have it, there was not a particle of food or liquor on the ship. Fortunatel}-. how ever, we hailed the fruiter Break water and got n little brandy and a can of condensed milk, and it was marvel ous how a few spoonfuls of nourish ment revived the lad. At quarantine I turned him over to the doctor, and in a week he was practically well. Then an uncle came after him and I have never heard from him since. I have often wondered,"said the old pilot, in conclu sion, "where the strange impulse came from that made me insist upon holding our course that Sunday morning. If 1 had turned aside, as the men on board desired, the castaway would undoubt edly have been lost. It was not within the limit of possibility that ha would have lasted another day." Lr rgsest City In Afrion. Cairo, Egypt, with a population of 500,000, is the largest city in Africa. A ROYAL ROMANCE. Klnij Alexander of Servla la I''oreed lu Put <*uarilH Almat Hi« IL<'- trotheU'* liou««. The announcement i- made by King Alexander of Servia of his bet ro ( hal to Jlnie. Maschin, formerly lady in wait ing to Queen Natalie, caused a sensa tion throughout Servia and a commo tion in Vienna. She is of obscure birth' and 12 years older than Kins,' Alex ander. The Servian ministry upon learning of the betrothal promptly re signed. The match is regarded in Bel grade is preposterous and a menace to the state. Feeling is so string that th* THE KING OF SERVIA. (A Disreputable Scion of a. Disreputabla House.) kin:* has placed a guard around Mm?. Maschin's house, fearing that an at tempt might be made to abduct her. It is evident that Alexander, after years of effort and always meeting with rebuff, has at last given up hope of securing a bride from one of the royal houses of Europe. If general re ports may be accepted, the young king is. morally, very much like his father, Milan. He is low and depraved in his taste and disposition, and has been in volved in many entanglements, with the result that his wooing even among the minor royalties has always been unsuccessful. The kingship of the royal house of Obrenovitch is of the vintage of 1882, and the royal houses of Europe do not seem to consider it quite ripe for use yet. The founder of the line was old Miloch. a swineherder, who became prominent in the struggle of the Serv ians against the Turks and treacher ous murdered his rival, Kara George. In 187i> Miloch's father married the widow of a man named Obren. ami when, in 1880, the swineherder was elected prince he took the name of Ob renovitch. It is doubtful if either he or his 1 father had any family name. When, after a stormy reign, old Miloch died in 1300, he was succeeded by hia son. Michael. Michael was assassinat ed in 1808, and was succeeded by a grandson of old Miloch's brother. Yeph ren. This grandson is the royal black leg, Milan, who has disgraced tha memory of the swineherds, his grand father and great-uncle. Milan abdi cated in 18S9. and his son. Alexander, after a regency of several years, in January, 1895, when only 17 years old, seized the government by a coup d'etat and assumed full control. GERONIMO IS INSANE. Arcorilinu to llei-ent Rpport FnmoiM Chief of Apache* llu* llecome a Ituvinx Maniac. The famous old Apache chief Gero nimo. who has been a federal prisoner at Fort Sill for the last ten years, has become a raving maniac. Even his cunning has deserted him. He now requires constant attention to keep him out of mischief. It cost the United States much mora than a million dollars and the lives of several hundred soldiers to put Gero nimo behind the bars. For almost a half century he led his braves on re- CHIEF GERONIMO. (Famous Old Apache Warrior Now a Rav ing Maniac.) peated raids into Mexico and against the white settlers in the far south west. Ilis name was feared in all the states and territories south of Colora do. In 18Sti Gen. Nelson A. Allies and the late Maj. Gen. Lawton set out to run tin? wily old chief to the ground. For nearly four years he led them a merry dance over the mountains and deserts of New Mexico and Arizona. Finally they cornered him and the remnant of his band in a deep ravine in the mountains, and after starving the Indians almost to death succeeded in getting them to surrender. The prisoners were at first sent to the government military post at Mount Vernon. Ala., but so many of them died' there of consumption that the survivors ware sent ten years ago to Fort Sill. The Automobile In (iprnuijr, The automobile industry though still in its infancy in Germany, is be ing rapidly developed, and, in the opin ion of the United States consul at Leipsig, is destined to become an im portant factor in the manufacturing industries of the country. The large amount of capital and energy which is being expended upon this branch of industry indicates that the German business men have great confidence io the future of automobilism. •
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers