6 ONE YEAR'" 3r* year ago to-day, beloved. Clod gave thee angel-wings that thou might st soar to realms above Where angels walk and seraph sings. Whom hast thou seen these months, be loved, In that dear land so bright? . Oid loved ones meet thee at the gate With raptures of delight? What has thou done these months, beloved? Where hast thou daily wrought? Full well 1 know, with loving deeds Each moment has been fraught. II lfit thou been oft with me, beloved, On comfort mission sent? Hist o'er my tear-wet couch at night In tender pity bent? Would T could lay my cheek, beloved, Close up to thine once more; Atid tell thee all within my heart, Just as I did of yore. And thou couldst speak to me, beloved, Of all the visions rare That dawn upon thy wond'ring sight In yonder mansions fair. But God's sweet will be done, beloved. In patience will I wait "Till His own hand shall lift the latch That opes the "pearly gate." And thou with radiant smile, beloved, Wilt haste to meet me there. What seems my cross will prove my crown When Heaven with thee 1 share. —Lizzie L. Baker, in Chicago Standard. [Copyright, 1897. by P Tennyson Neely.] CHAPTER X XII.—CONTINUED. "Up to this afternoon at five no trace of them has been found," said Loring. "Day after to-morrow that ■tsafe-opener should reach us. If you have influence with Col. Stevens you should urge him to have a guard at the quartermaster's depot, even if he had to strip the fort. The general cannot be reached by wire." "Why?" asked Folsom, looking up in alarm. "You don't suppose he'd come back to rob his own office?" "He is not the man to take a risk, hut there are those with him not so careful, and the hand that sent Bird- Ball's gang in chase of Dean could fiend thein here, with the safe-key. Those few clerks and employes would be no match for them." "By heaven, I believe you're right!" cried Folsom. "Which way are you going now?" "Back to the hotel by way of the depot," r/as the answer. "Will you ROV" "One moment. I do not travel about sust now without a gun," said Folsom. .stepping within doors, and even the low sound of I heir voices died away and alt was still as a desert. The old trader •did not return at once. Something de tained him Miss Folsom, probably, reasoned the engineer, as he stood there leaning on the gate. Aloft a blind creaked audibly, and, gazing up «anl, Loring saw a dark, shadowy shutter at the third-story window ing slowly in. There was no wind to move it. Why should human hands be so stealthy? Then a dim light shone through the slats, and the shade was raised, and, while calmly watching the performance, Loring became aware of a dim, faint, far-away click of horse's hoofs at the gallop, coming from the north. "If that were from the eastward, now," thought lie, "it might bring stirring news." But Ihe sound •died away after a moment, as though the rider had dived into sandy soil. Just then Folsom reappeared. "I had "to explain to my daughter. She is most reluctant to have me go out at night just now." "Naturally," said Loring, calmly. "Anil have you been way up to the third story? I suppose Miss Folsom has gone to her room." "The girls have, both of them—but not to the third story. That's Mrs. Fletcher's room." "Ah. yes. The woman, I believe, who accidentally scared your horse and threw you?" "The very one!" he answered. "I'm blessed if I know what should have taken her out at that hour. She says she needed air and a walk, but why .should she have chosen the back-gate and the alley as a way to air and sun chine?" "Would you mind taking me through that way?" asked the engineer, sud denly. "It's the short cut to the depot, 1 understand." "Why, certainly. I hadn't thoughtof that," said Folsom. "Come right on." And so while the hoofbeats up the road grew louder, the two turned quickly back to the rear of the big frame house. "That coming horse brings news," muttered Loring' to him self. as he turned the corner. "We can Bead him off. but 1 want to see this 'situation first." Looking away southeastward from the porch of Folsom's homestead, one could see in tlie daytime a vista of •shingled roofs nnd open yards, a broad ▼alley, with a corral and inclosures 011 the southern edge of the town, but not a tree. To-night only dim black shad jws told where roof and chimney stood, and not a sign could they see of the depot.. Loring curiously gazed aloft at tiie rear and side windows of the third story. "They command quite .a view, i suppose," said he, and even as ihe spoke the sash of the southeast room was softly raised, the blind swung slightly outward. That woman watching and listening again! And it was she whose sudden and startling ap pearance at the rear gate had led to Folsom's throw so early the morning. Burleigh and his mysterious friend •were found missing from their quar ters just after dawu—the very morning Dean, witli his treasure package and little escort, rode forth from Emory on that perilous mission—the very morn ing' that Birdsall and his murderous gang set forth from Hate City iu pur suit. And now those hoofbeats up the road were coming closer, and Fol som, too, could hear and was listen ing,, even while studying Boring's face. Suddenly a faint gleam shot across the darkness overhead. Glanc ing quickly upward, both men, deep in the shadow, saw that the eastern window on the southern side was lighted up. Out in the alleyway low yet clear, a whistle sounded —twice. Then came cautious footsteps down the back stairs. The bolt of the rear door was carefully drawn. A wom an's form, tall and shrouded in a long cloak, came swiftly forth and sped down the garden walk to the rear gate. "Come on, quick!" murmured the en gineer. and on tiptoe, wondering, the two men followed. They saw her halt at the barred gate. Low, yet distinct she spoke a single name: "George!" \nd without, in the alley a voice an iwered: "I am here! open quick!" "Swear that you are alone!" "Oh. stop that damned nonsense! Of course I'm alone!" was the sullen re ply, and at the sound of the voice Lor ing seemed fairly to quiver. The gate was unbarred. A man's form, slender and shadowy, squeezed in and seemed peering cautiously about. "You got my note?" he began. "You know what's happened?" But a woman's muffled scream was the answer. With a spring like a cat boring threw himself on the intruder and bore him down. In an instant Fol som had barred the gate, and the wom an, moaning, fell upon her knees. "Mercy! Mercy!" she cried. "It is all my fault. I sent for him." "Take your hands oil, damn you, or you'll pay for this!" cried the under most man. "I'm Capt. Newhall, of the army." "You're a thief!" answered Loring, through his set teeth. "Hand over the key of that safe!" The sound of hoofbeats at the front had suddenly ceased. There was a sputter and scurry in the alley behind. Full half a dozen horses must have gone tearing down to the east. Other lights were popping in the windows now. Folsom's household was alarmed. Attracted by the scream and the sound I i - " Don't shoot! I'm Wed Lannion.' of a scuffle, a man came hurrj'ing to ward them from the front. "Halt! Who are you?" challenged Folsom, covering him with his revolver. "Don't shoot. I'm Xed Lannion— just in from the ranch. Have-you heard anything of Hal, sir?" "Of Hal?" gasped Folsom. dropping his pistol in dismay, "In God's name, what's wrong?" "God only knows, sir. Mrs. Hal's nigh crazy. He's been gone two days." CHAPTER XXnr. Five days later the women and chil dren from Warrior's Gap, most of them bereaved, all of them unnerved by the experiences of that awful day, arrived at Fort Frayne, escorted by a strong command of infantry and all that was left of the cavalry troop at the stock ade. A sad procession it was as it slow ly forded the Platte and ascended the winding road to the post, where sor rowing, sympathetic army women met and ministered to them. With them, too, came such of the wounded as could be moved, and at the head of the little squad of horse rode Lieut. Dean, whom the post commander and several officers greeted almost effusively. Yet almost the first question was: "Did you see any Indians?" "Not one," answered Dean. "They seem to have drawn away from the Big Horn road entirely. Why do you ask?" he added, anxiously. "There were signal fires out at Eagle Butte last night, and I've just had a letter from old Folsom at the ranch on the Laramie. He begs us to send a guard at once and 1 haven't a horseman. There's been the devil to pay at young Folsom's place." Dean's face went a shade x,a'cr "What's happened?" he asked. "A dozen of his best horses run off by Birdsall's gang, probably to re place those they lost in the flood, and Hal himself was shot and left for dead in the hills. He'd died but for an Ogallalla girl and a couple of half breeds who had a hunting-lodge out near the Peak. There are letters for you at the office." There were two—one from Loomis. at Emory; one from Jessie, of all places in the world, at Folsom's lanch. This he read first.. "We got here late night before last, after such an exciting Journey, Marshall dear," said she, "and I can't begin to tell you all the strange things that have happened, for Mr. Folsom says the messenger must start fo. Fort Frayne in twenty minutes. That villain, Maj. Burleigh, who dared to speak ill of you, turned out to be as bad is i ever said he was. They haven't caught him >vt, but they've got Capt. Newhall. .Mr. Folsom anil Mr. Loring did that— caught him In the back yard of our house, down by the gate, and in some way Mrs. CAMERON COUNTY PRESS, THURSDAY, APRIL 4, 1901 Fletcher Induced him to come there, for he had the key to the safe at the quar termaster's depot, and was going to get the money Maj. Burleigh dared not take when he fled. I can't understand It at all, and Pappoose doesn't like to talk about it. But Mr. Folsom was robbed of lots of money by Maj. Burleigh. Mrs. Fletcher is mixed up in it in such a queer way, I can't explain now. She was nearly crazy when we came away, and Mr. Folsom was so good and kind to her, left a nurse with her, and made her stay at the house, al though she wanted to pack her things and goto the hotel or the jail, she didn't care which; but he wouldn't let her. "And right in the midst of it all Ned Lannlon, who came with news before, gal loped Into tell how Halbert Folsom had been missing two days, and Mrs. Folsom was crazy with l'ear, so Mr. Folsom left Lieut. Loring to attend to all the mat ters about the robbery and started at once for the ranert, and Pappoose, of course. In sisted ongoing with him, and I would not be left behind. And here we are. Now 1 can see the hills where you had the light and wore Elinor's picture, and it was right out there among them that Halbert was found. Horse thieves had run off his best horses—the same gang of murderers that, they say, planned to trap you and that you outwitted. Oh! Marshall, was ever a girl so proud of her brother!—and they shot Hal and he was found and taken care of by some Indian people, tame ones, and one was a girl, Lizette, who had fallen in love with him four years ago. Wasn't is romantic? And she's gone again, but Hal is safe here, although Mrs. Folsom is more than half-crazy, and now old Mr. Folsom is worried to death, and says we must start back for home to-morrow. It's seventy-live miles, and we don't want to go at all. only I'm so eager to see you, and 1 heard- at least Mr. Loomls told me you'd be back any day, and he has your troop till you come, and he's so fond of you— Oh, here's Pappoose to say this must go at once." The colonel sat watching the young fellow as he read. "Bad news, Dean?" he queried. "Every kind of news, sir. It's all a whirl. The devil seems to have broken loose in Wyoming. Let me skim through Loomis' note." "Dear Dean: In case the letter sent yes terday passes you on the way, I add a line to say that if ever I said a mean thing about Dorlng when we were In the corps, I take It back. I thought him a prig wlwn wo wore the gray. He rather "held us under,' anyhow, being a class ahead, you know, but the way he has panned out here and wiped up Wyoming with the only men I ever knew that tried to wrong you is simply wonderful. He's nabbed three of the Birdsail gang and is away now after Burleigh. The news from folsom's ranch is more reassuring. Hal was shot by horse thieves who were running off stock, and was found and taken care of by friendly Indians, but Mrs. Hal had an awful scare and sent for the old man, who went, of course—both young ladies going with him. They were miles away before we knew of It at the fort. I tried to persuade old Peck sniff that he ought to let me go with twenty troopers to guard the ranch and scout the Laramie, and he threatened to put me in arrest. Of all the double-dashed, pig-head ed old idiots he's the worst. I don't want people at the ranch to be scared, but if the Sioux only would make Some demon stration this way that would give me a chance, I'd try to earn a little of the rep utation that you're winning, old boy, and no man knows better how much you de serve It than "Vour friend and classmate, HANK L." "P. S.— Loritig took ten of the troop into the Black Hills to beat up Burleigh, but he said 11 they struck Indian sign he meant to make for Folsom's ranch. Now, if we could only meet there!" The sun was well down at the west. The day's march had been long and tedious, as only cavalry marches are when long wagon trains have to be escorted. Dean had not yet fully recovered strength, but anxiety lent him energy. "If Mr. Folsom says there is need of cavalry guard at the Laramie, it is because he dreads another Indian visit, colonel. I have nine men in good shape. Our horses are fresh, or will be after a few hours' rest. May I push on to-night?" And to the young soldier's surprise the elder placed a trembling hand upon his shoulder and looked him earnestly into the eyes. "Dean, my boy, it's my belief you cannot start too soon. Do you know who Li zette is?" "I've heard the story," said Mar shall, briefly. "She must have been hovering about there for some time." "Yes, and now her people know it, and it will rekindle their hatred. The moment I heard of this 1 sent old Bat to watch the crossing at La Bonte. Not an hour ago this came in by the hand of his boy," and the colonel held out a scrap of paper. It was a rude pictograph, a rough sketch, map-like, of a winding river— another and smaller one separated from the first by a chain of moun tains. The larger one was decorated by a flag-pole with stars and stripes at the top and a figure with musket and bayonet at the bottom. The smaller one by a little house, with smoke issuing from the chimney, and a woman beside it. Above all, its head over the mountains pointing to ward the house, its tail extending north of the bigger stream, was a comet—the "totem" or sign of the Ogallalla lover of Lizette. The story was told at a glance. Burning Star was already south of the Platte and lurking in the mountains near Fol som's ranch. That night, toward ten o'clock, an anxious council was held. Halbert Folsom, fevered by his severe wound, was lying lialf-unconscious on his bed. his unhappy wife wandering aimlessly about at times, wringing her hands and weeping, evidently unbalanced by the terrors that had beset her of late and the tidings of that awful Indian revenge along the Big Horn. Silent, helpful, almost commanding, Elinor spent the hours sometimes at her brother's bedside, then at that of her sister-in-law when the poor creature could be induced to lie still a moment. The burly little son and heir, long since sound asleep in his cradle, was watched over by Jessie, whose heart fluttered in dread she dare not say of what. Twice that afternoon she had seen whispered con ferences between old Folsom and Lan nion. She knew that for some bet ter reason than that he was over persuaded by Pappoose, Mr. Folsom had not carried out his project of sending them back to Gate City. She saw that he made frequent visits to the cellar and had changed the ar rangement of the air ports. She noted that the few ranch hands hung about the premises all day, their rifles ever within reach, and that often Mr. Folsom tool: the glasses and searched the road to Frayne. She saw that earth was being heaped up in places against the ranch where the walls were thin or made ot boarding. She saw that water and provisions were being stored in the cellar, and she knew that it could all mean only one thing—that the Indians were again in force in the neighborhood, and that an Indian siege was immi nent. And all this time Pappoose, though very brave, was so still and so intent upon her duties. Even when supper was served for the ranch people in the kitchen that evening:, as the sun went down, ."less noted that two of the men kept constantly in saddle, rid ing round the buildings and anxiously scanning the open prairie oif every side. There were only six men all told now, including Folsom (of course not counting lial, who was defense less), altogether too small a number to successfully protect so large a knot of buildings against an insidious and powerful foe. Darkness settled down upon the val ley, and, though calm and collected, Folsom seemed oppressed by the deep est anxiety. Every now and then he would step forth into the night and make a circuit of the buildings, ex change a word in low tone with some invisible guardian, for, heavily armed, the employes were gathered at the main building, and the wife and chil dren of the chief herdsman were as signed to a room under its roof. Par ticularly did Fofsoin pet and encourage the dogs, two of them splendid mastiffs in whom Hal took unusual pride. Then he would return to his son's bedside, bend anxiously over him and lay a lov ing hand on Pappoose's lustrous hair. It must have been ten o'clock and a night wind was rising, making the oc casional cry of the coyotes even more weird and querulous, when they heard the sudden, fierce challenge of Troop er, the keenest, finest of the mastiffs, and instantly his bark was echoed by the rush and scurry of every canine on the place. The men on the porch sprang to their feet and Folsom hastened out to join them. The dogs had charged in the darkness toward the northeast, and somewhere out in that direction were now all furiously barking. Aloft the skies were heavily clouded. The moon was banked and not a glimmer of light shone on earth or heaven. Suddenly, afar out over the prairie, beyond where the dogs were challenging, there was heard the sound of a pony's neigh, an eager appeal for welcome and shelter, and Folsom sprang confidently forward, his power ful tones calling off the dogs. They came back, growling, sniffing, only half-satisfied, still bristling a.t the un seen visitor. "War ponies never neigh," said Folsom. "Who are you, brothers friends?" he called, in the Sioux tongue, and a faint voice answered from the darkness, a pony came loping dimly into view, almost running over him, and in another minute an Indian girl, trembling with fear and exhaus tion. had toppled from the saddle and clasped the old trader's hand. "Good God! Lizette," he cried, "you again? What is wrong?" for her head was drooping, her knees giving way be neath her, as the poor child whispered her answer: "Sioux coming—plenty braves! Hide —quick!" And Folsom bore her in his arms within. [To Be Continued.] SOMETHING REALLY NEW. Hat There Win So me tlil n s Wrong with tlie Conclusion of the Story. "I have an idea for a story!" ex claimed the young author enthusiast ically. "Something really new?" asked the publisher, doubtfully, relates the Chi cago Post. "New!" cried the young author. "Well, I should say so. Listen! Mar ried couple living happily, not a c'.oud in the matrimonial sky. Husband goes on trip, fails to comeback, search made, nothing found, wife mourns, inconsol able and all that, time passes, every body gives him up as dead, she goes into mourning and comes out again, grief dulled by time—" "Oh., that's old!" interrupted the publisher. "That's 'Enoch Arden' all over again." "Oh, it is?" scornfully retorted the young author. "Well, that's all you know about it. Finally she marries again." "I told you so," broke in the pub lisher. "Man comes back 253* ears later," went on the young author, ignoring the interruption. "Wife sees him and cries: 'Alas, I bave married again.' Man answers: 'Ss have I.' Now there's a situation for you." "Bigamy," commented the publisher. "Huh?" "Bigamy; double case of it. How are you going to get them out of that scrape?" "Confound it!'" ejaculated the young author. "I never did evolve the plot of a good story yet that some prosaic old duffer didn't come along and knock the tar out of it. I tell you, genius isn't appreciated in this world." No Discrimination. "You're a nice editor, Chubbs!" "What's the matter now?" "Why, you said the publisher of the Daily Voice is an unmit''gated ass." "Well, he is." "But you add: 'We advise our brother journalist to reform his stupid ways.' " —Harlen Life. People Who Won't I'ny. Any photographer will tell you that lots of people will sit for a picture and then won't staud for it. —Indian- apolis News. AN INHERITANCE IN WEST ERN CANADA. Indian Reservations and Other New Districts to Be Opened Up This Year. In the (ireat Saskatchewan Valley, and the Fertile Plains of Assiniboia. To the Editor. Dear Sir: The past three or four years have demonstrated to a large number of Americans the value of the grain-growing and ranching lands of western Canada. Tens of thousands have taken advantage of the offer made by the Canadian government as well as of the exceedingly low prices asked for lands by the railway, col onization and other companies. The experience of those who have been settled there for some little time is of a highly gratifying character. So much so that the Canadian govern ment, who has control of the immi gration into western Canada, has de cided to open up some new districts this year in the well-known Saskatche wan valley, and also in the fertile plains of Assiniboia. These districts are probably the most productive in the entire west and in close touch to largely settled communities, as well as being situated on some of the most important lines of railway. They are within easy reach of markets, schools, churches and other social advantages. In some of these districts lands may be homesteaded as well as purchased outright at very low prices. Now as to what can lie done on these lands. The evidence of the settlers in the neighborhood of the lands now about to be opened for settlement (some of ; them being located in one of the best ! Indian reservations) goes to show that j the very best results have followed j even most indifferent methods. Cases ! are given where farmers having gone I there with most limited means, barely j enough to erect a small house and j break up a little land, have in three I or four yea.-s' time become prosperous, all debts paid and money in the bank. The soil in the districts mentioned, Assiniboia and Saskatchewan, is a rich | black loam, 13 inches to three feet I deep. As a settler says:"lt appears like the accumulation of decayed vege tation and ashes for centuries (the subsoil is a stiff putty clay)." On this soil it is possible to raise from 40 to | 50 bushels of wheat to the acre; oats, j 75 to 100 bushels, all of which bring ! good prices at the local market. For j mixed farming these new districts ' are probably among the best in west j ern Canada. Stock fatten easily on | the wild grasses. Hay is plentiful, and I prices splendid. Another settler writ j ing to a friend in lowa says:"The I climate is all that could be desired, , plenty of rainfall in summer, with no hot, dry winds. On the 28th of Sep tember I saw prairie flowers in full j bloom, sweet corn, potato and tomato j vines that had not been touched a particle with frost, and the winters are milder than those in the state from which I came. After the holi days the winter sets in clear and cold, j wit h plenty of snow for good sleigh | ing; no high winds or blizzards are i known. Horses live out all winter | and pick their own living, while cattle live all winter in open sheds and around the hayricks. Wheat, oats and barley are the principal grain crops. Potatoes and all other roots and vege tables do well, the yield being enor mous as compared to those in the states. Wild fruits, such as strawber ries, raspberries, cranberries, goose berries and all varieties of currants yield in abundance. As a reader of your valuable paper for a number of years, I feel that I should inform you of the progress and advance ment being made in Canada within the past few years and the induce ments and advantages that will fol low settlement in western Canada. Those who desire information can do as I did, and apply to any agent of the Canadian government, whose name, I see, appears in advertise ments appearing elsewhere in the col umns of your paper, and when writ ing ask particularly about the Sas katchewan Valley or Assiniboia Dis tricts. Yours truly, "j"OLD READER." OBJECT TO BEER AS CLEANER. Protest of W. (!. T. I", at the Idea ol < leaning l it)- Hall Hrielt. The temperance people of Topeka, and of Kansas for that matter, are indignant. The city is just complet ing a fine city hall and auditorium, which is to be opened with cere monies early in September. Prepara tory to this event the city adminis tration has decided to revamp the new brick structure a little, and for this purpose will use a lot of stale beer stored at the police station for washing the walls of the new build ing. This stale beer has been seized from time to time, and in accordance with law must be spilled into the strei*.. Rather than waste this liquid it is proposed to use it in making the new brick walls shine for the dedication ceremonies. The State Temperance union. W. C. T. U. and other temperance organi zations declare that such procedure would be an outrage ajid rather than permit it threaten togo to the city prison and forcibly turn the stuff into the streets. Ore Kind of Kindness. She — l ls he kind to his family? He —I think not. He never sends any money home when he is on the road. "Well, that's what I would call un remitting- kindness."—Chicago Even ing News. Ills Name. The teacher of the Sabbath school class approached one little fellow who pres ent for the first time, and inquired his name, for the purpose of placing it on the roll. "Well." said the youngster, "they call me .Timmie for short, but mv maiden nAuie u Jauics."—Christian Register. m NUT MIMKK. The Mine Workers Accept a Promise of Ileeoynitioii AT SOME RNRUK TIMK. President Mitchell Declares for u Conservative Course. IN TIIE ANTHRACITE FIELD. Tin* Principal < onci'wlom Ukrti for l»y Ilie I nitrd .11 ilie Worker* \1 <-r« Not «.I lA|l<l ami tin- Operator* Can Juatlly I lalni a Victory. Wilkesbarre, Pa., March HO.—The expected strike of 143,000 miners in the hard coal region will not take place. At a meeting of tlie execu tive committee of the I'nited Mine Workers of three anthracite districts held in this city Friday it was decided that the men should continue at work. This committee was given arbitrary power by the general con vention of miners held at Ilazelton in the fore part of the month to de clare a strike if circumstances war ranted it. In a lengthy address ic stied last evening and which was pre pared by Mr. Mitchell, it is stated that the circumstances do not war rant a strike at this time. Mr. Mitchell made an address at 'he afternoon session of the commit tee which was conservative in the extreme. He spoke of his visit to N"<\w York and his efforts to secure interviews with the men who control the anthracite coal trade, lie said all the concessions'asked for had not been granted, but the outlook for the future was bright and it was Ins opinion that the day was not far dis tant when the operators of the an thracite region would see that it was to their advantage 'to meet their min ers in joint conference. It took some time and hard work before the bitu minous operators would consent to meet their miners, but thev eventual ly did. Some members of the committee were in favor of pursuing a radical course, on the ground that if the operators did not. recognize the Min ers' union now the opportunity would be lost forever. President, Mitchell, however, soon convinced the committee that a conservative course was the only one to pursue at this time. A number of coal operators when shown the statement issued by the committee said it was a graceful backdown on Mitchell's part, but they gave Ihe president of the Mine Workers credit for its conservative policy. It is conceded that had he so desired lie could have made a great deal of trouble. On the whole the miners are well pleased with the action of the com mittee. While they were ready to strike, had the order been given, they are just as well pleased that no lockout is to occur. There is gen eral rejoicing among business men over the news. The suspense of the past two weeks had a tendency to paralyze trade, but now a big boom is looked for. President 'Mitchell's statement, says:"The representatives of the operators listened to the presenta tion of our arguments and while they would not agree to meet in a general conference with the miners this year, they did agree that the notices which were posted con'tinuiing the ad vance in wages until April 1, 1902. and agreeing to take up and adjust with their mine employes any griev ances they might have, should lie in terpreted to mean that such griev ances should be adjusted "with repre sentatives or committees of the Mine Workers; and they held out the hope that if during the present year the Mine Workers demonstrated their ability to abstain from engaging in local strikes, full and complete recog nition of the organization would be accorded at a future date." .lotor Barrymore In Hit Asylum. Xew York. March 30. —Maurice Bar rymore. the actor, was taken to the insane pavillion of Hellevue hospital yesterday by his son. John Barry more. ile went to the hospital will ingly. lie had nothing at all to say and acted like a man who was dazed. John Barrymore told the doctor that his father's real name is Blye and that he was born in the East Indies about 50 years ago. A lla*<iuera«l«'r Arretted. Victoria. I!. C„ March 30.—Tlie steamer Tacoma, from the Orient, brings news of the arrest at Hong Kong of an American named John Lee. who. it is alleged, has been ob taining goods and money under false pretenses while masquerading as "C. E. Morgan, surgeon of l'. S. S. Brook lyn." Me went about attired in naval uniform and was bound to Ma nila when arrested. Sold lor 955,000. New York, March 30.—A seat on the Xew York stock exchange was sold Friday for $55,000, which is $2,500 more than the highest price hereto fore paid. 1* in No Hurry to Kr«lj;n. Lincoln. Neb.. March 30.—Senator elect I Mete rich announced Friday that he would not resign as governor until fail I. probably not until after election, barring, of course, an extra session of congress, which lie did not regard as probable. Gov. Dietrich justified tuis action by saying he had outlined a plan of state administration which he was anxious to put into effect. Marnclllto Strike Knitrd. Marseilles, France, March 30. —The strike here lja's virtually ended and work has bojjjn generally resumed at the docks. m
Significant historical Pennsylvania newspapers