IDT nil Ml Wreckage Takes Fire and Some Injured Are Burned. CAUSE UNDETERMINED Either a P.roken Wheel or Displaced Rati May Have Derailed Train Mnn Fndcr High Speed Four Rear Cars Fpturned and Dragged Along Ties. New York, Feb. 19. Twenty per sons were killed and at lenst one hundred and fifty Injured laBt Satur day evening when one of the lately Installed electric trains of the New York Central win derailed Just this side of Wllllauisbridge, on the Har lem Division. Two of the car were overturned xnd burst Into flames, the woodwork ;atchlng fire from contact with the third rail. A most peculiar and unexplalna bte feature of the accident was that iho last car of the train left the rails Irst. It ran for a short distance over '.he sleepers and then whipped off ;h car ahead. When they toppled over the two conches ahead of them followed. Carried on by the terrific tpeed of the train, the motor car of which was still on the tracks, their sides were torn Into slivers, seats were ripped out, and the passengers orere hurled about and crushed. Three explanations were offered 1y officials of the road to account for lie accident. It was generally cred ited that the wreck was due to a de ctlve rail, which was later found .round about a wheel of a car and arith one end protruding completely hrough the floor of the car. It was also suggested that a flange it one of the wheels of the motor car tad broken. Spreading rails Is also given 3 u possible reason for the derailing of iUH runs. The passengers who escaped all 'ree that the train was going at tlgh speed some say from Beventy tve to eighty miles an hour, while others think it was going at a speed f one hundred miles. To add to the horror of the wreck, "he rear coach of the train began to mrn, and, while possibly a few of he injured were cremated, the flre aen arrived promptly and succeeded a extinguishing the flames before .he scores of passengers imprisoned -a the wreck were burned. The .moke laden wind added to the hor or of the Injured who wer.: caught -X tbe wreckage. Ex-Governor George C Pardee, f California, who has severely ;ored the State Legislature for Its ttravaganee. He declared that glilatora had lost all moral sense. . MINISTERS' TRIAL DIVORCE. :: fr. and Mrs. Puffer Agree to Live Apart for Three Years. Salem. Mass., Feb. 21. A unique lartlal agreement has been perfect f. I by the Rev. Charlea E. Puffer, astor of the Unlversalist Church of : lis city, and his wife, who Is a leo- arer. While trial marriages are a topic t: I general discussion, Mr and Ms. buffer have put Into operation a com pact which may be termed a trial di vorce. They will live apart for three ars, as though they were divorced. nd If they find this mode Is satisf ic rwy they may then get a real di sorc. Meanwhile Mrs. Puffer Is to re ceive trial alimony In the form of Xtb a month. At the end of three .tears, if a divorce Is obtained, Mrs. Puffer Is to receive $7,0j0. They have a grown son, a grndu te of Tufts College, who Is now In Arizona. $:i,0.-.3U for Roy's Life. New York, Feb. 21. By the de cision of a jury In Judge Ford's part ;tt the Supreme Court the value of a ten year old boy's life Is $3,958.31. This verdict was rendered In the se of Mary Netelsky.as administra trix of her ten year old son Harry, who was run over and Killed by a iwo ton coal truck owned by the Hudson Coal Company of New Jor- Odessa Jews Attacked Afresh. Odessa, Feb. 21. Ninety-five lews have been removed to hospitals iufferlng from Injuries sustained In in attack made upon them by mem bers of the Union of Russian Men, rhe racial 111 feeling run high, and Jie Jews .here are In houily expecta Hon of another series of outrages, sTnrciv a iuge gas welt Allowed to Flow Week Withon Capping Causing Great Loss. As a commercial product nntura gas was twenty-three years behln petroleum. They both originated It Pennsylvania; nnd Pennsylvania hai led all the States In the productloi of both products ever since, tint! 1903 when California surpassed hoi I In petroleum. Petroleum nnd natural gas are al lied products. As Pennsylvania hai tho first and largest oil field she hni also the first and most extensive gai region, says the Pittsburg Despatch Like oil. it Is controlled by the few, and the enormous accruing pro fits redound to increase the wealth of the already rich. And It seems Im possible now to carry on such ex tensive Industries without great ag gregations of money. It would be Impossible for Individuals of mode rate means to pipe oil or natural gal 200 or 300 miles and distribute It in small pipes or wagonB to Individual consumers in a city. An Instance showing the truth ol this statement occurred In reality lutely In McKenn county, Pennsyl vania. Two brothers by tbe name ol Keelor drilled a well 1,886 feet deep and Btruck the greatest gasser ever known. It threw the two ton string of drilling tools entirely out of the well and Its vibrations soon shook the heavy timbers of the derrick to pieces. The escaping gas roared like a heavy freight train dashing along, the sound of which could bo heard at a distance of ten miles. It was com monly said that It was producing 100,000,000 cubic feet per dny. Such exact measurements ns could be niudo placed the amount at 4 2,000, 000. Hut whatever the flow of the gas may have been It was by far the lurgest well ever drilled and the ex traordinary production served to at tract great crowds of visitors. The gas had been Bold In advnnce before tbe well was completed to the Pennsylvania Gas Company (which Is understood to bo the Stan dard Oil Company). There had been no pipe line laid in advance to take care of the gas. Of course It was un known whether there would he any gas. Every well Is a mystery until the driller strikes the sand. Hut when the sand was struck and the Im mense quantity of gas rushed out there was no Immediate attempt to "shut it In." Day after day It wnst ed from 42,000,000 to 100,000,000 cubic feet, sufficient to supply the domestic uses of a city of 50,000 In habitants. The gas was struck on the 2 2d of September, 1 9 0 G . No attempt was made to control It until the 10th of November, just fifty days, when the first effort to shut It In was suc cessful. Why an earlier attempt on the part of a great company to save tho gas for two poor men was not made Is not entirely explained. Per haps they knew for a certainty that It could not be done. They might not have been able to have secured the tubing any earlier. The one thing which they did, however, was to lay an eight-Inch pipe nnd carry the gas 200 feet away from the well and let It escape there. They could not turn It Into a gas main for the reason that they had laid no main In that Inter val of fifty days. It Is said they could not get the pipe. They laid that eight-Inch pipe off to the south. There was a good reason for lay ing It that direction. The Pennsyl vania Company owned adjoining lecses. They owned one across the rond to the north. And as they want ed to drill there, there might be some danger from the gas of the Keelor well. The Keelor well is 300 feet south of the road at the point of tho Pennsylvania Gas Company's new well. And the gas from the Keelor well was carried 200 feet south from the well. Of course, as the gas from the Keelor well be longed to the Pennsylvania Gas Com pany they had a right to pipe It where they pleased. But they were not paying for it while It wasted. The Pennsylvania Gas Company drilled a well as near to the Keelor line on the north as possible. All gas and oil men know that gas and oil is In veins or seams or belts of sand stone, sometimes in pools. It is prac tically guesswork to strike these veins. No man owns tho seams of oil or gas, except what he can strike in the wells from his own lease. Any one, of course, who owns an adjoin ing lease can drill as close to the line as possible In the attempt to strike his neighbor's successful pool. That Is part of the game. It Is competi tion In the great Industry. The Penn sylvania Gas Company successfully capped the Keelor well In their Irst attempt, which was a few days be fore they struck the sand in their own new well, but they did not turn the gas Into their pipe and begin to use it. Tho gas Is safely shut Into the well waiting the laying t the main. In the meantime gas In the new well was struck. It Is a flno well, producing about 10,000,000 cu bic feet per day. Evidently It did not ctrlke the veins of the Keelor well and Is not drawing the gas from them. Thomas Edison's I'ustlme. Thoso who chunee to pass the dwelling of Thomas A. Edison, the electrician, at an early hour in the morning are somewhat astonished to hear an organ being played and won der who Is thus amusing himself at a time when others are fast asleep. It Is Edison himself, who, after a long period of work In the labora tory, will refresh himself mentnlly by a couplo of tunes on his favorite lust ru merit, thus preparing for re cuperative slumber. THE COLUMBIAN, HI 1 Moving Picture Led to a L Hold-up Man's Arrest. PENALTY OP VANITY. One Iooniod Fp on the Screen at a (Show and a Detective Found Him With That Cine Chance Glimpse of a Photograph I,cl Finally to One Woman's Capture. "The high notch criminals, the fellows who pull off big Jobs nnd have to make big Jumps, are com plaining more and more of how small the world Is growing," he said. "Yet there are still plenty of biding places. The element of chance constantly figures in the apprehen sion of wanted men. Only a couple of weeks ago a badly wanted Chi cago stlckup man was snugged at Pasadena, Cal., through some mov ing pictures, says an old detective la the New York Sun. "The stlckup man put a ball la the shoulder of a Chicago merchant who refused to be frisked with hie eyes wide open. This happened 1'ist winter. The whole country wus cir culated and the Chicago flies had been doing the dragnet thing to pick up the stlckup man's trull for nearly a year. "Some time ago the moving pic tures of the Jack O'Brien-Tommy Hums fight, which took place at Lea Angeles, reached Chicago. A party of the Chicago Hies went to the place where they were shown to have a look. Before the pictures showing tho fight were thrown on the screon there were a lot of the moving films showing scenes In the training camp of the two scrappers. "In the forefront of one of the films stood the stlckup man, per fectly unmistakable. The naturf.l vanity of nil humans causes them ta face moving picture machines whea the pictures are being taken, and tho stlckup nii.n away In front, and mag nified two or three times in size, wa3 grinning straight at the detectives. When the exhibition was over the detectives had a look at the film ou which the stlckup man appeared, and found thnt they were dead right. One of them Immediately hopped out to Los Angeles. The stlckup man had seen tho fight picture himself, and he figured that there might be something doing when the Chicago detectives had their peek at them. So he quit playing the Los Angeles races and laid low In Pasadena, where he lived, for a while. Hut the Chicago detective got on his trail In Los Angeles, and nulled his man at Pasadena. Detectives find out among other things that tho great majority of crooks are very vain people and In spite of their rogues' gallery experi ences they are forever having their pictures taken. "It may be that it's because of their rogues' gallery experiences that th'-v do this. Few of them look pret ty In their police mugged pictures and their vanity Incites them to have photographs taken that look like them when they're In the unsnagged State. There pictures are often Inno cently put on view by photographers and many a crook Is picked up In this way. I got a noted woman gem lifter that way twelve years ago. She'd turned two big Maiden lane tricks and the Jewellers' Protective Association wanted her a whole lot. "A Job that was a good deal like her work was pulled off In a Denver gem house three or four months af ter her getaway from Now York und I was sent out there to prowl some. It looked poor to me after I'd been on the job In Denver for a week. I knew a number of stool pouters out there, but they couldn't give me any thing about her. The Denver files weren't hep to anybody thut looked at all like her. "I was Just about to flag the Job and crawl In with the poor mouth and the tale of nlx nix, when one af ternoon I stopped at a Denver pho tographer's show case to rubber at the pictures, a new display which had only been tacked up a couple gf dayo or so. The middle picture resting against tho black velvet was a big, boudoir bIzo thing, and It was my woman, in a fine clean laco dress, full figure, with a fan In her hand and looking like a somebody hostess receiving her guests for a pink tea. "I made tho photographer's up stairs plant in three Jumps und I had no trouble lit showing him that I had a right to ask him where the woman of the boudior Blze picture was. Tha photograph had only been taken a month or so before, and he had only to turn over a few pages of his book to find the name and uddress of tho sitter. Tho name wus phony, cf course, but the address was all right. She was living at Manitou Springs. I went there and found her in her flat, pretty snug, with coin to tosB at tho brier birds. She clawed me up quite a few with her nalla when I told her she was the one, but I brought her back all right. A Writer's Plaything. When Mr. Rider Haggard was a child a very old doll or battered wood, hideously ugly, was one of his favorite playthings, and also of the other children In the family. An old nurse used to call this doll "She," and In after years the novelist bor rowed the name for tbe heroine of bis most fampui book. BLOOMSBURG, PA. Mirahda Wood's R smancc Ry Ethel Rrrt Hart. I The hot summer sun, which had bpen scorching and lashing Into white heat the little' New England village of Northfield all day, was now setting red behind a cluster of firs upon the far off flanks of the Berk shire hills, Finking slowly, drowsily to rest In vivid haze, as though worn out with Its own fierce Intensity. One cottage, standing npart from this cluster of dwellings, nlono seem ed desolate, this sense of loneliness being to-night Intensified by the al most trnglcnlly forlorn figure of a tall, gaunt woman sitting rigidly upon the doorstep, her thin hand clasped tightly about her knees. But to-night, musing on her door step, Miranda felt strangely troubled and perplexed In mind, for a con versation she hnd overhenrd on her return from work that evening kept repeating Itself to her brain with startling frequency and distinctness. It had so hapiHMied that while passing along tbe village street she had encountered Deacon Scovlllo, who, In shirt sleeves and rnrpet slip pers, a corncob pipe contentedly tucked awn.v In the corner of his mouth, was chatting lazily over his garden gate with Pete Farman, this latter gentleman being entirely ab sorbed in the engrossing though somewhat strenuous occupation of cleaning his nails with a large Jack knife. As Miranda approached the Dea con had hailed her with a cheery "Good evening, Mlrandio. Powerful hot, ain't it?" while Pete, looking up grudgingly from his rugged toilet, had remarked with quiet Insolence, "Most hot enough to ronst taters on your tin roof, nln't it, eh?" The Deacon's remarks Mirandy had acknowledged with a sharp bow of nssent, while her eyes had swept scornfully the impudent, grinning fane of Pete Farman. The next in stant she had turned the corner of the wood shirp.y nnd was lost to view behind the tall lilac hedge which formed an almost impenetra ble wall at the side of the Deacon's garden. Hero she stopped. otenslb!y to settle her bonnet with an angry jerk, but In reality to recover her breath and composure, which Beemed to be slipping from her in gusts of fury. As she wns about to start on ag'-iln, the wind, swnylng the lilac top?, hither and thither, brought the voices of the two men she had lust quitted clearly and distinctly to her ears, BoUing her as though apeii tiound In curious though horrified fascination. "Hurrah!" laughed Pete Farman: "there goes the gal what's never been kissed; don't wonder, it 'ed take a powerful nerve. Gul. what a face! Looks like she'd been reared on persimmons. Euf!" Then tho Deacon's voice drawled softly: "I don't believe that yarn 'bout her never havin' been kissed. Miranda's most powerful homely, but she's got a good heart all the same, and that's bound to have fetched some feller, leastwise long enough to give her a kiss." So now Miranda was turning the details of this conversation over in her mind with Purltnullke precision and candor. She had never had any sympathy or even patience with lovo and regarded all those suffering from this strange malady as but creatures of unsound mind, to bo treated accordingly with contempt scorn. It had also been Miranda's habit to catechise herself, to turn her emo tions to the pitiless light of her al most morbid conscience, and she now Insisted emphatically, albeit a trifle mournfully: "No; I ain't never been kissed." But already the feeling of anger and resentment which had at first been paramount was giving place to one of singular softness as sho thought again of the deacon's words. So "she had a good heart;" she had almost forgotten she had one, and placed her hand hurriedly to her left side to make sure that It was really there. To-night some stronger will than hers seemed swaying- the current ol her thoughts; some power at once alluring and suggestive with which Reason buttled fruitlessly; some wine which seemed to lull her senses Into blissful confusion and to which she finally gavo herself up with childlike abandon. "I wondor what It's like," she murmured, while again that vague softness enveloped her as In a cloak. "I wonder," she repeated but here the trees begun to dunce In lazy rhythm before her eyes as, lulled by the drone of Insects In the grass, she fell asleep. II "Hide me quick, for God's sake!" cried a bourse voice In Miranda's ear, while a rough hand upon her shoal der shook her violently from bet slumbers. Still stupefied with sleep sho gazed confusedly Into the Strang) bearded face thrust close to hers. The moonlight now bathing the garden in soft radiance, cloaking euch famlllur object with elfish rnys tery and falling full upon the white face and already dramutlcnlly crouched figure of the man, seemed to add to the scene an almost lime-' light artificially, a suggestion at; once theatrical and thrilling. "Hide me quick, for God's sake!'1 , he repeated, seizing her roughly by the hands, with the exclamation ol Impatience, accompanied by khuo- i jji.... ml.ri n ( , . m , , . , thing thnt sounded strangely like an oath, as he dragged her unresisting ly on her feet. "Come quickly now! They're after me nnd they'll kill me If they get me don't you understand?" Miranda, however, now fully awake, tore her hands from his grasp, and drawing herself tip to her full height, stood a stiff nnd for bidding sentinel In her doorway. This, then, wns n man, and evi dently n bad one. "(let out of my house, murderer," she cried, In a sharp voice. Then, waving his Impatient denial aside with a warning hnnd, she continued: "If they're after yer to kill yer, yer done somethln' yer hadn't ought- j er, nnd I for one won t stand in the way of serin' Justice done.' Then, seizing a broom which lay against the door, and using It rather as a weapon of extermination than of defence, ahe lunged heavily to ward him. Dexterously dodging this furious onslaught of bristles, the desperate j man fell on his knees before her, j nnd raising his eyes, which Miranda j noticed for the first time were soft i and brown beneath their fringe of ! black lashes, to her face, whispered between hope and fear: "Surely there Is at lenst one spark of womanly pity In your heart." Miranda startled, clutching blindly. wildly at the door for support, as tho i Deacon's words flashed like lightning through her brain: "She's got a good heart, anl flint's bound to fetch . some man." The hot blood mounted , to her face, and she clapped her hands over her ears to keep out the voice, fearing lest the man at her , feet should hear It nlso. i 'Tho almost breathless silence which had followed his eloquent pleading was now broken by the sound of voices along tho road, nnd . one could discern dimly In the dlrec- ; Hon of the village a small black stream of figures running In ragged j form, now stopping apparently to ! peer Into ditches, nnd then hurrying on with renewed vigor. Each mo ment, they became more distinct, nnd i Miranda fancied she could distin guish the voices of the Deacon nud Pete Farman among the rest. j Swift as a hare she flew to tho door, beckoning the man to follow her, then throwing wide the cup- board said, In a voice scarcely less tense than his had been, "Git in there, quick." The man sprang forward like some liberated animal and the next mo- ; ment the door closed upon him. I But none too tiinn, for already a party of excited men, headed by Peto , Farman, had turned In at her gar- ! don gate. "Yer ain't seen nothing of a man 1 running for his life, have ye?" gasp- I ed Pete, his gooseberry eyes nearly bulging from their sockets " a likely .voting feller with long black whiskers." "Someone's broke In up to Farmer Cuddyback's and stoled all Mary nnd Hank's wedding silver," panted the Deacon. "Serves them right for having been such gul darned fools as to git married," was Miranda's cool and tart reply. But she wns feeling very nervous despite this bravado, and when Pete Farmnn advanced dangerously near tho fateful cupboard she cried In u somewhat choked voice: "I'll thank you, Pete Farman, tc take your muddy boots off my clean paint; this ain't no cow shed." Pete, momentarily awed, with drew to the door, but from this safa retreat, his courage returning, he growled suspiciously: "Oh, that's all very fine talk, but I seed him turn In here, and It is my painful dooty, Miss Miranda Wood, to Bearch this 'ere house." "Search, then, till you're blue to the face, for all I care," replied Mi randa, In a voice she fondly believed to be indifferent, but which, though bravely commenced, wavered percep tibly toward the close of the sen tence. "Well, then, we may as well be gin here," said the relentless Pete, walking toward the cupboard as he spoke. Like a flush Miranda was be fore him. Throwing herself defiantly against the door, she cried in a voice terrible to hear: "I'm blest If you do! There's all my winter presarves in thar, and I'm, not going to let any darned man set his foot In there till they've Jellied." Miranda was plain at all tlmeR, but now her face distorted with rage, was fearful to behold, and the men fell back a pace. For one moment she stood like a tigress at bay; tht) next, recognizing her half won bat tle, she assumed her old, dry man ner, and, pointing with a long, bony finger down the road, said, sarcasti cally: "And, now, when you gentlemen have done Insulting a poor, helpless woman In her own house, perhaps you might see If you could ketch that man what's runnln' close to the stone wall yonder." In an Instant the men were In hot pursuit, stumblng over each other in their eagerness to be In at the death. Miranda watched them out . of Bight, a scornful smile on her thin Hps; then suddenly, as though realiz ing "for the first time the enormity of the situation, she walked quickly to a chair, into which she sank, and, throwing her apron over her head, sat rigid nnd silent for a quarter of an hour. She was trying to think It all out: who she wus, to begin with, and what she had done. So lost was she lu her own dreums and calculations sho hud quite forgotten the man in the Jum cupbonrd until she felt her apron gently pulled from her face, and, looking up, she beheld tho man whoso lifo Bhe had saved and for whom she hnd told tho first lie In her spotless life. What n chnngn hnd come over thnt face! All the terror had gone from those luminous ryes, nnd In 1U stead wan a soft tenderness. "God bless you for whnt you have done to-night!" he murmured In deep, rich voice, "God bless you!" Then for one blissful moment Ml rnndn felt his arms about her shoul ders, as, bending hla head to hers, he kissed her. Ill Tbe sun was high In the heavens and the fire quite cold on the hearth when Miranda finally stirred In her chair. What hnd come over her? Had she dreamed It all? No, she hod not s!ep! ; she had been conscious of every lick of the great clock above the mantel, and. besides, there was the cupboard gaping wide, display ing neat tows of Jam pots upon Its Thrives. No, she had not dreamed; t-i.e had simply lived, and, It seemed to her. for the first time In her life. A man hnd kissed her and asked God to b!ess her, and she had saved his life. Ah, It was all such n beautiful romance Miranda laughed happily as she pictured herself as heroine. Singing, she went about her work, absently prepnrlng her incagiT breakfast, which she scarcely touch ed. After giving a few almost co quettish touches to her toilet she looked llngcrlngly about the room In loving remembrance ere she turned the key In the door nnd went out The village street was almost de serted, Miranda noticed gratefully, for though she longed to hear the re sult of lat night's robbery she yet feared to do so, and by the time she had rached the substantial Giles abode her heart was beating nigh to suffocation, nnd her hands trembled bo she could scarcely lift the latch of the garden gnte. Had he really managed to escape or was he now languishing In some dreary prison? Her heart sickened at the thought. At the door she was met by Mary Giles, who, eager to tell the news, did not notice Miranda's flushed face and trembling hands. Here she learned that the "ruf fian" (Miranda's hero) had got "clean away," and, with this blissful Intelligence the happy, albeit guilty, Miranda set to work with n light heart. She listened to their story of the robbery with that superior Judg ment of one who knows, feeling her self a clever actress Indeed. Sho hummed to herself ns Bhc worked. Flashing rather recklessly Into the material Mary Giles hnd given her for the new bodice. This unwonted brightness puzzled the good people for whom she worked not a little, but when she actually cut two sleeves for one arm their wonder turned to alarm. "Lands sake, Miranda Wood!" cried Mary Giles despairingly, as she gazed at her ruined bodice, "he you clean crazy? Lord, one'd think you was In love!" Miranda started guiltily, cutting a horrid gash In tbe fated bodice as she did bo. In tragic silence the two women looked down at the wreck before them; then Miranda Bald la hard, wooden tones: "How much did it cost?" "It cost mo seventy-five cents at Martin's sale, and you couldn't git It less than a dollar t'other times," re plied the now nlmost hysterical Mary Giles In bitter reproach. Slowly drawing her purse from her pocket, Miranda counted out four twenty-five cent pieces and laid them In a neat pile upon the table. Then before the astonished Mary Giles could recover her breath she had fled. She hurried along the road her head bent guiltily, scarcely heeding where she was going until, coming In contact with some huge bulk which seemed to her confused tenses like a great feather bed, she looked up to find herself face to face with Mrs. Scovllle, who, fat and excited, was fanning herself wildly with a news paper at Miranda'B own gate. , "Land's sakes, M's Scovllle!" she cried In alarm, "whatever is the matter of yer? Looks like yer was was goin' to have a stroke!" "I've had one ereudy," exclaimed the Deacon's wife theatrically. "A most shocking thing I call it most Indecent. Here," she added, thrust ing the newspaper under Miranda's nose as she followed her, panting, into the kitchen, "read that for your self." As Miranda read a faint, sick d la ziness crept over her, the ground seemed to sway neath her feet, and, sinking Into a chair, she muttered forlornly to herself, "So It was all a He after all. It was a traitor's kiss." Whut she read was us follows: A Clever Criminal Caught at Last. "A paltry robbery of wedding sil ver at the house of a farmer named Cuddyback, residing In tho village known as Scovllle's Glen, was the means of running to earth one of the greatest and at the same time clever est criminals of modern times. "The prisoner, caught while try ing to escape by Jumping Into a slow ly moving freight train three miles below the scene of the robbery, gave his name as Parson. but was found to bo a woman In male attire, and hu subsequently been Identified as Ma rie Rennle, author of the great dia mond robbery at the Hotel i In Dresden, in which a well known prince travelling incognito was kill ed, and Instigator and prime mover In many subsequent robberies. Until now she had managed to vade the vigilance of the police through bet many clever disguises, the lust men tioned being perhapB tho most com plete." t
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers