VOLXXXII READ and REFLECT. A GRAND OPPORTUNITY—With the dawn of proeperity just be fore us and the improvement in business notwithstanding We sometime ago decided to clos-e ont onr entire stock of Men's Boys' and Childrens' Clothing, which we will continue to do at prices that will be to the advan tage of all desiring to purchase clothing No matter how little or how mieh money you have to invest, we know it will be hard on tie Clothing business, bat as we are determined to close out we cannot help it Our stock ia the largest in the county. Men's fine black worsted pants all wool only $2.00. We have more pants than any two storeß in town. Our children's suits are marvels of beautv; all the late novelties, t-uch as the Regent, Eaclid, Neptune Columbia.Reefers, Jerseys, Kilts Ac. from 50cts np Bovs' Double and Single Breast Round and Square corner Piain or Plaited—All will be sold without reserve. Jfe will still continue to carry a full and complete line of Hats, Caps, Shirts, Ties, Collars, Cuffs, Handkerchiefs, Underwear, Hosiery, Overalls, Jackets, Sweaters, UmbrellP-S, Trunks, Yalices, Telescopes, Hammocks Brushes Combs, JJ> atches, Chains, Charms, Rings, Coller and Cuff But tons &c We still carry the ' Semper 4 dem" Shirt, the best nnlaundried shirt in the world onlv $1 00. Oar 75 cent shirt is equal to any SI,OO sbirt on the market Our line of Cheviott, Percaile and Madras shirts, full and complete. H'e have fouiid that one man's m- rvy is better than two men's credit. sid have adopted the cash plan Bi'd fiud that it works wonder Be member that we are the old reliable, the pioneer of good goods at low prices; that we have been here a quarter of a century against all comers and goere. have stayed with yon and done yon good It will pay you to com? for miles as we can save vou Monev, no matter how low yon are oflcred goods Jf' 1 vp no baits to pull the wool over your eyes. A fai r , tquare deal 1 wf u -»• ; f rtiise aod are here *0 fulfil that promise. r 1 fjppif psr \j h lILAjFi, (jIOTHISR, FURNISHER and HATTER, 121 N. Main St., Butler, Pa. FEET of all kinds can lie fitted at Bickel's BickelVjf 7 //( Bickers Bickel's V)/j I Bickel's Bickel's 1 f Bickel's Bickel's \ N . mi'ter bow bard ycu are 10 nt and what »iyle you may wish, yeu enn he Fuited lr« m our large stock. NO doubt y< u bate retd abi ui the advance in leather and have come to the conclusion that you will huve to pay more for your shoes, but such is not the case if you will buy from us. Having made several largo purchases fr< m nme < f the lending manufactures, I am prepared to show von the ini f. (ft itl«ciim c-f F OOTS and SHOES in Butler county and can sell you them at the OLD LOW prices All our goods are marked away down and qv trading with us you will get your shoes lower in price and higher in I ualiiy than can be had elsewhere NEW STYLES and plenty of them •re pouring In every day. Here we list a few; note the prices: Men's Fine Calf Shoes, any style at $2. Men's "A" Calf Shoes any style at f1.25. Men's Buff Sbo»s Lace and CoDgress at sl. Men's Working Shoes !*oc and upwards in price. Boy 'B Fine Dress Shoes at $1 2 L»di»s Fite I)< rpola Pat. Tip Shoes Razor toe flexible sole at $2 Ladies Fine Dongola Pat. Tip Bh< es $1 50 in all styles I adies DoDgola Shoes at sl. per pair. Misses Snoes sizes 12 to 2 ranging in price from SO: to $1 50 Children's School Shoes 50c and upwards in price Infantß Shoes 20c to 50c a pair. Ladies' Oxfords 75c to $2 All sizes and widths Also full stock of Misses and Children's Oxfords in Black and Men's Canvass shoes kc. Boot- and Shoes Made to Order Repairing Neatly Done. Orders by mail receive prompt attention. When in need of anything in our line call and see me. JOHN BICKEL, IL2H ir> Main Street, BUTLER, PA. Branch Store |2 5 n riain st, ++REMEMBER THIS.++ HUSELTON'S M ML S ping' Shoes Easy, stylish and comfortable Footwear for Spring and Summer. Wm- Our Ladies and Men's Tan and E* +Black Shoes, + Mjlj 1 Are sueh and extremely dressy. jj., We are ready with an immense . J Jt W v line in all colors, Russia Calf, Vici Kid and Razor London; New A lew words in parting. Opera and French Toes. Go to HUSELTON'S for my $ $ $ $ $ ax. i .u >»00 1,50 2,00 2,50 3,00 Shoes; don t you go any other | £ ,j. place; 1 have tried them and his . , .. . . v More and better styles than any arc the best, recollect what I say. other showing in Butler. Full line Misses and Children's Tan Shoes, Fit for a King at prices in harmony with the times. You don't need a fat pocket book to deal here. Tan Shoes will be especially popular this Spring. New Shades and Shapes. Our Stock in Mens Boys ami Youths, excel anything ever shown in Butler. They are stylish and fine enough to suit the most fastidious tastes. Prices on these 75c —90c —$1,00 —$1,25 —$1,50 —s2,oo —s2,so —and—s3.oo. —Don't fail to pay us a visit, we have rices way down and Quality way up. B. C, Huselton, -# 102 N. Main Street, - THE QUESTION is often asked, What Paint shall we use? THE ANSWER : If you are looking lor covering capacity, wearing qualities, general appearance, and your money's worth, you must buy THE SHERWIN-WILLIAMS Oaten Moat. Looki But. Wtari longiit. Host economical. Full Mtaturt. I——————— Our prices are for "best goods" first, last and all the time. We are in the business to stay and brushks, 5. W. P. stays with us. COLORS IN OIL," HOUSE & COACH VARNIBHCH, J. C. REDICK, 109 N. Main St. THE- BUTLER CITIZEN. Emma Pedrlclc Philadelphia, Pa. Simply Marvelous Intense Suffering of a Young Girl Ended Whit© Swelling Cured by Hood's Barsapari!la. " Gentlemen—Urged by the feeling that tome parent might have attention direct ad to Hood's Sarsaparilia through my ; ttatements, as mine was through that Mr. ! Jno. L. McMurray of Havens-wood, W. i Ya., I give the particulars of my daughter suffering and cure. In December, 1 1880, when four years old, she injured her ! right knee by a fall. The injury culmin ated in white swelling. The limb commenced to contract, and to en able her to get around I made her a Pair of Crutches. | While using these she had a second fall, | the knee grew worse and the limb con j tracted. The following August the doc i tors decided to bandage the leg. They pulled the kiiec-loiut apart by main strength and put It in a plaster bandage. " During the six months the use of the plaster-of-paris bandage was continued, ft was renewed three or four times. The limb grew worse instead of better. AJI sorts of appliances and bandages were re sorted to, but there was no improvement, the disease continued its inroads. Five Abscesses formed on the limb. V» e took her to a prominent hospital. The doctor said It would be necessary to open the leg and scrape the bone, and perhaps finally to Amputate the Limb. She had wasted away to a mere shadow and as I didn't believe she could survive the operation, I made up my mind she might as well die with two legs as one. " just at this time. I happened to read a testimonial from West Virginia describ ing a case so similar to my child's, and in which Hood's Sarsaparilia had effected a cure, and I immediately decided to give that medicine a trial. It took hold From the First. Before she had taken two bottles ft core or piece of bone came out of one of the abscesses near the ankle. To come to the point, three bottles of Hood Barsa parillacurert Emmacompletely. Headers of this can imagine my esteem for Hood's Hood's^* 1 Cures Sarsaparilia better than I can express it. Hood s Sarsaparilia Is a family medicine with us. We warmly recommend it to everybody." William H. Pedrick, 1114 South Seventeenth St., Philadelphia, I'a. L, it r»Jll- the aftar-dlnner pill and nooa S i HIS family cathartic. The New Spring Styles. S §OM> u Hi If you want the nobbiest and cheapest suits, drop in and see what we can do for you. We now have in stock spring and summer styles. Another—Hero they are. Do you want to be in he world? l)o you want to be in "ishion? You are sure of botl the latest style and the best goods : f you buy your suits of us. Forward -March is 'he onlj motto in business. This is illus trated in our new spring stock We have better goods for less money, than ever were offered l>e lore. Styles strictly the latest. Fits guaranteed. COOPER & CO., Leading Tailors, 301 South Main St., Butler, I'a w. ETRALSTONS For fine Watches, Diamonds and Optical Goods of all kinds I. k FRENCH Gradua e Opti cian, at No. 132 S. Main street, Butler, Pa. WALL ttinsn PAPER. nnumuii All grades from Brown Blanks up to the finest embossed Bronzes. The better the paper the better the Bargain. Buy your good papers ni"'i4lty.An In | formation free. Ilai.k refer.-nc.-n. VJI-.INMAN , ti Co Stock and drain llrokers..4l .llroauway New York J). L. CL.KELANI) Optician, 125 b. Main, St. IUTTLKK. PA.,THURSDAY, JUNE 6, 1895. RIGiIARD*™.CoLM'JoHNSToN- i (opyright. iasa bysJ.s.lippincott company* ( f-he was not quite ready to di>miss him, having some other things to say. Lifted somewhat from the deep of the pit into which he had been cast, ! anger and sense of the need oi remov ing whatever suspicion she had that his proposition had been made with any apprehension of the consequence of litigation over the will, with what coolness he could assume, he said: "Well. Hannah, your conduct took i me so much by surprise that I got a lit tle mis-put just now. I'm all right aprain. Of course you don't expect me to do anything about the property after what's passed. As for what Arthur Dab | ney is to do with what he's begun, and j what you hint he's thinking about be j ginning, if he was a better lawyer he'd see that none of it, not a thing of it, can come to anything. I don't deny, and Ood knows I don't want to deny, I but what you and your child are enti | tied to your part in what land father ! bought since the making of his will; j that you and he will get; but, as the ! executor of the will, I shall be the one to attend to that." •'I don't expect of 3 - ou anything cx i cept what you know you'll be driven j to do. Wiley Amerson, you are worse ! than I took you to be. I had the no j tion once that by conciliation on the i part of Cullen and myself you might I bo induced into a settlement which j would not »e so grossly unfair that lie ' might not accede to it. He knew • better, because he had known you so : long. I believed that my behavior to ward your father and you had done much to remove the prejudice both of you had against me when I married Cullen. I didn't dream but that every thing was all right until after his death, when you produced that will. Then I thought, foolish as it all was, to conciliate again, hoping, but not fully ■sure in my mind, that such action, undertaken in the interest of my hus band and my child more than of myself, was excusable. I was well paid for it. I knew you cared nothing for your wife, but I did not suspect you capable of such conduct. lam thankful that my motives in what I did were under stood by Cullen and Julia, and that I had lost none of their affection. Poor dear Julia did advise you to marry me, but she died knowing it to be impos sible. She did nof tell you her changed views, because in the little time after wards she felt that all her thoughts must be occupied in preparing to meet her God. How you could have stood up before her and taken that advice, knowing the motives for giving it, only God can tell. Another thing I know. Your notion then was not to marry me. That is recent, beginning with last Tuesday's issue of the South ern Recorder. If you had been a true man you would not have thought of marriage to any woman in so short a while aftur your wife's death. Your "GO, SIB!" avowing it to me shows you to be a savage, and what you would attempt now, if you were not afraid, shows you to be even Worse than that. As for your threat about what you will and will not do about the property, I know, as everybody docs, that you will get all and keep all you can. Vou may not know it, but the very last thoughts given by that good woman to her hus band were fear of ruin to him for his evil doings. She told no facts to crim inate him, because she was true to the man who had outraged her. Go, sir. Vou let your father die with a blot upon his name which you could have \ after defrauding your broth er of his rights, you would have put dis honor upon his name, and would now put it on his memory; you neglected and shamed a wife who was one of the very saints; and now, seeing you can not gain another end you have in view, you are going to try to oppress yet fur ther the survivors in your family. If it be God's will to allow it some time longer, so be It; but I haven't a doubt that In the end His protection will be upon me and mine. Mimy, Mimy, come," she called aloud. Without a word of answer he went away. "What Marse Wiley want 'long wid you, Mis' Harnah? I hear you talkin' so sej'ous an' sollom-like." "Nothing very important, Mimy. I called you to let him know that I thought it time for him to go." yjAAI'TEK XIII Dabney decided that, with Hannah's consent, lie would get assistant coun sel. He was moved to this the sooner by the apparently enhanced confidence in the looks and gait of Amerson when he happened to meet him upon the street, and by one or two bita of pleas ant raillery from Watson, his lawyer. "What's the use, Dabney," said the latter, one day—"what's the use of your pretty widow wanting letters of administration on those two pieces of land? There can't be any difficulty about dividing them fairly. My client wants nothing but what is right. At leabt so he says. Looks like.you and sho want to make a little fuss about nothing." "No, Mr. Watson, we are not quar relsome persons, and, like your client, we desire nothing but right." "Well, I don't blame you much for wanting to be a little noisy over small matters. I was that way myself when u you ntf lawyer. Except, for the awk- ; wardness, not to say nonsense, of having two administrations, 1 don't know that I'd oppose your tipplb-at ion. Hut If Hie court understands the law of the rase, which they seldom do, they won't xrant them, whether I oppose yon or not." "Thanky for your generosity, Mr. Watson. I'll lie careful not to put too high u tux upon it." "Isn't she a beauty, though? I saw her In Ralner's store to-day, and, on my word, I don't remember ever see ing a finer-looking woman. Why, the fellow Muslim!" and he laughed heart- I ily. "Well, well," seeing that Dabney | barely smiled, "don't tnind nay joking, \ Dabney. If there is to be much of a j War, each of >is doubts not that the I .other will light fairly; you know that, | Dftbuey," "Certainly I do, Mr. Watson." "By George," soliloquized the elder when they had separated, "I forgot that Dabney was a beau of the widow when she was Hannah Enlow. His blushing shows that the thing has broke out on him ligain. Well, if she ever gets to want another husband, as such a woman can't help, and a pity it would be if she could, she'll never get a bet ter than Dabney." The application for letters was meant mainly as a notice to the public as well as to Amerson that Cullen's widow in tended to make every possible issue with his administration of the estate. It was well Dabney thought to keep the matter in people's minds, hoping that from their discussions things might be gathered which would seem to justif3* an attack upon the will, and at least force Amerson to such a com promise as he could advise liannah to be content with. The more he reflected upon Watson's words indicating quasi acquiesence in the application, the more they seemed suspicious. The difficulties in the case seemed to him to grow »more various, subtle and in ti icate. Seaborn Torrance habitually attend ed the superior court, which, in the dozen and more counties of which the circuit composed, held spring and fall term No lawyer in middle Geor gia was regarded as more able than he, particularly in the conduct of cases in volving complicated issues. Besides very high admiration for him. Dabney had M>irie affection, having gotten more than once from him timely sug gestions when trying cases. The in ferior court, limited to the county, also held two sessions iu the year. This court had civil jurisdiction, except as to land, co-ordinate with the former, and sat as a court of ordinary besides. It was composed of five justices elected by the people. Often suits of great im portance were instituted therein, be cause, as the judiciary allowed to par ties two trials, those dissatisfied with the rulings of officials without learn ing in the law could appeal to the higher tribunal. Therefore, lawyers from other counties seldom attended. It was on business outside that Tor rance came to the town on the Satur day before the court at which Han nah's application expected to be con sidered. Dabney, grown more anxious, called upon him one night at Huson's. He found him in good case, having set tled his business satisfactorily and got ten a good supper. When Dabney had made his statement he said: "Yes, yes. You see how thing's come around, Arthur. Wiley Amerson cheat ed out of near two thousand dollars a client of mine in Hancock, there on Island creek, nigh the Baldwin line. It was too late when the poor fellow came to me to do him any good, but I sent word to Wiley, and I know he got it, that I meant if I lived to try to pay him back. And your client is Hilly Knlow's daughter in the Oconee dis trict. lie was a poor man, but an hon est. They said she was a beauty. By the way, didn't I hear she used to be an old sweetheart of yours? eh, Dab ney? However," lie went on, not seeming to notice the seriousness on Dabney's face, "let's to the business. Now as to tlie fee, I'll leave that to you, only that I'll take no retainer, but trust to the contingent. Would that be satisfactory to the widow?" "Why, of course, Mr. Torrance, more than satisfactory. She'd hardly think she ought not to insist—" "No, no. You see I want, if I can, to get even with Amerson, and then, my good lad, I want to help you; for it's a case that if we can put it through will give a good shove to the reputa tion you've already got." "Why, my dear Mr. Torrance, I don't know how to thank —" "Don't do it, Dabney, at least in words. Let's talk now about what you've done and then what's to be done. Cussing ain't much of a habit with me, though I sometimes do blaze out, us I felt once or twice like doing when you were stating the case Just now to me. Hut it's a'most Sun day, and my wife would feel in yet more scolding mood if she knew that I'd been cussing Wile Amerson. So let that go for the present. As for the application for administration, my counsel is to let that rest awhile. When the time comes, we'd better ap ply for letters in full, leaving out de bonis non. That, you see, Watson will construe as an admission of the will's validity. See, Dabney?" "I do now," Dabney answered, smil ing "No harm done; no harm done. You let the case go l>y. Monday. I don't believe I'd go in the courthouse at all. That will put them to thinking that we feel content to bide our time to jjf iff ~,'nv ' Q* , W PAH.NKV CAI,LEI> I'J'ON HJM ONIC NIOHT. strike for higher things. People will talk about the infernal case, and you must keep your cars open. There isn't a shadow of doubt in my rnind that there's fraud somewhere, and if there is, why, you and I have got to find where it's hid. What's the use of be ing lawyers if such a fellow as Wile Amerson can keep blinding the eyes of both of us with his filthy dust? lie's as sly as he's rascally, but he can't rub out every single one of his tracks. His courting the widow so soon, coarse dog that he is, shows that it was more j than one bird ho was after, and that he's anxious. You work up the case, and let me hear from time to time of your discoveries. Note little things as well as big. Have you ever looked at that will? No? Well, I want to when I come again. My observations have been that about all such villainies In animate things used in their consum mation sometimes give signs that, minute and slight as they arc, if a man ! will study them closely, seem to point to lurking-places which it is worth while to ferret. I knew I'earce Amerson—a rough man, and In old age made too aspiring by Wiley. Hut Tie was up right—at least he was always so re garded—and I have no idea that he meant to delude in saying he would > destroyed that will, now its destruc tion was prevented we've got to find out. If we do that, other things will follow. The law and the public are against disturbing such depositions, however capricious and unjust; but if we can show that at the time of the execution old Amerson's mind was la boring with unfounded prejudice# against his son for marrying as he did it will go hard if we can't at least di vide the jury and afterwards drive Wile to some sort of compromise; and if we can put on his tongue the spring of that influence, we'll bring an action of slander ancillary to other proceed ing. In hunting such a rat as Amer son, we've got to employ every artifice, trap, dead-fall, shotgun and bane. Eh, Dabney? Eh, my boy?" Without waiting for a response he continued: "Well, that'll do for to-night. I feel like there are other things on my mind to say, but I'll wait till they get into clear shape. I'm tired. Come by after breakfast in the morning and we'll have another chat before I start. Sun day, I know, but we are now engaged in getting out of the pit, not an ox nor an ass, but a widow and an orphan. Heigh-ho! the meanness is in this world! Still, I like to live in it, old as I'm getting and with all that I've seen in it." After he had gone the next morning the young lawyer felt, and so assured his client, that the case was stronger than he had hoped. CHAPTER XIV. Mr. Flint had spoken in public of the will in such terms of blame that Amer son began to avoid him. Dabney, hearing of this, asked Rachels to re quest him to call at the office when he next came to town. So on the next Saturday, his day for coming in, while sipping his first toddy at the "Big In dian." Rachels said: "I'ncle Lishy, Squire Dabney was in here not long back and he asked me to tell you, the first time I see you. he wished you'd stop iu his office, as he wants to have a little talk with you about a matter." "Squire Dabney!" said the customer, setting down the tumbler which he was raising. "Why, what do he want along of m<\ yo' reckon, Gustie? I never had no business with him, ex ceptin' to get him to draw up a will for me, and I paid him for that, like I allays do for everything as I go up. Did he say what it was about?" "No, sir; but I got the idee somehow it might be about the Amerson will. He never let on in them words, but somehow I gethered that idee." "Pearce Amerson's will! Why, my Lord, I got nothin' to do 'long of Pearce Amerson's will, exceptin' I were one o' the witnesses, and I ben sorry for that ever sence I heard how ag'in' Cullen it went, that were my favorite 'inong his two boys, aud I told Wile so. Cut that's every blessed thing I had to do with it!" "It mayn't be that, Uncle Liahy. As for that will, it's a shame it were ever made, and it'll be a pity if it ain't brc'"»." "Come, now, Gustus, come, "now; I can't foller you fur as that. A man'i? will's his will. The law say that, and it won't let her be broke onlest they is mighty plain good reason for it. The law, they tell me, is very p'inted in sech a case, which and it ought to be." "That may bo so; but s'pose the old man thought he done destroyed It after making it, and s'pose he were hendered from destroying it by some body unbeknownst, which to my opin ion that's so?" "Ah, Gustus, but such as that have to be prove pine-blank. It's a troublesome case all round. Poor Cul len! but it ain't a-hurtin' of him now. Yet there's his wldder and orphin child that it seem ruther hard on them. I been a-hopln' they'd compermisc It, which as for breakin' a will dry so, be cause It don't read accord In' to what people think they'd do if It was them and tlielrn, I can't but be ag'in' seeh as that. 1 got a will myself whiob some mayn't like when I'm gone, and the beginnin' of a example o' breakin' wills out and out, 'thout up and down good reason, I can't go to that extent myself. Well, I'll swallow the balance of my toddy and then go and see what Arthur Dabney want with me." Repairing to tho offlee and assigned a chair he took from his pocket-a bis cuit and said: "Arthur—l call you Arthur because yon was raised right there by me, and you've never talked or done like you feel like you got above your raisin'—" "That's right, Mr. Flint. That's what I prefer you to call me.'' "Jes' so: be it so, then. I were goin to say that Gustus Rachels told mo you wanted to see me, and so I've come; and if you hain't a objection to it, I'll eat a biscuit, because I've Jes now took a toddy at Gustus' 'Big Injun,' as they call it, aud she ain't goin' to do me tho good benefits I'm a-countin' on from her 'ithout I put a little somethin' on top of her where she went, if you'll ex cuse me." "Certainly, Mr. Flint; make yourself entirely at home. I thank you for coming. I only want to chat with you a little about old man Amerson's will. An unfortunate piece of business, wasn't it?" "Very oufort'nate, and a onexpect eder to me I don't ric'lect." "I had heard that you were muoh surprised and a good deal distressed by it. Indeed, so far as I can hear, everybody in Baldwin county is—ex cept, of course, Wiley Amerson. who thinks he lias everything in his sling, as they say." "His father before him were an am bition kind of man about the glttin' o' prop'ty and holdln' on to it. There's where Wiley got It. Now his mother were differ'nt, and Cullen he took arf ter her. A fine boy, a oncominon fine boy! It weren't rfght; that is, to my opinion, which business it's none o' mino; but to me it don't appear right; but there it Is, you see, Arthur. Now, that will you writ for me, one o' my sons ain't a-goin' to like it when I'm out o' tho way, but tho law, you know, Is ag'in the —" "That's all perfectly true, Mr. Flint. Regarding your will, other people, whether John thinks so or not, will say it was right, and certainly there can be no suspicion regarding It. This case i« very different. In this there has been great fraud somewhere, and It is of utmost Importance to find out what it was. I wanted to seo you and ascertain what you might remcmbei in your intercourse with I'earco Amer son to show that he had not such pref orence for Wiley over Cullen as that will indicates." Mr. Flint stooped carefully, picked up a crumb, and, going to a window, threw it out. Resuming his chair, h« •aid, smiling: "My old 'oman frekwent gives mo a scold about drappin' crumbs about but as to tlitit, I don't know as I know anything except in' what everybody know in our settlement. The old man Amerson wero monst'ous fond o' Cullen, seem like to me, till he got married to Ilaruah En* low. when seem like soon arter that he got put out ag'inst him; but then, in no long time, about a year or sech ■ matter, I thought he had got ricouclled to him, and even a-includin' of Harnah. I know he was monst'ous proud when their baby come and they named it arter him; that's what mako it all 'stonlsh me so. Why, sir, I've heard him up till not two month before he taken sick, of frekwent a-goin' o« HlyiU \yhaj wife she were to Cullen. and turnin' out so fur better than he ben a-ex pectin' from what some people had told him about her." "Did he say what this was, and from whom he got it?" "Well, I can't ric'lict egzact; but soaieliow it were that he have heard Harnah were a kind o' frolickr, frisky, that didn't keer much fur —well, the upshot were, she weren't too good, and were danger of her fetchin' down the family, after Wiley have lift it up. and so on. which I told him I could of told him all the time that Harnah were a perfect jcweld of a girl myself, if her parents was iu mnd'rate circltms'es. As for where'd he got his Mees he had at the offstart, why, I'll have to—\rell, the people in the settlement says, and my old 'oman among 'em. they all says he never got 'em from nobody but Wile Amerson hisself." "No doubt about that, Mr. Flint. Mr. Amerson did not tell you what was In his will?" "No, bless your soul, no; nor I never ast him." "Did he ever say in your hearing that he had destroyed it, or that he meant to do so?" "No, not as I 'member. He were not a man to talk about what he'd ben a-doin' and were a-meanin' to do. and I never ast him, it not bein' any o' my business." "I was not in court when the will was proved. You were, I heard, and testified to the old gentleman's entire soundness of mind." "Oh, yes; I were the only witness there. Billy Lilly he was dead, you know, and that rattlin' Owen Car ruthers he were the t'other, and he were laid up with one o' his rheumatiz spells, that come on him sometimes by his takin' no keer o' hisself. Pearce Amerson's mind were as sound as it ever were, certain and sure, and it kept so long as I see him to talk with him, if I'm any jedge." "Yet he told Cullen, several times, a montli before he died, and in the pres ence of Cullen's wife, that he had no will, and that Wiley had persuaded him against it, saying as they were only two, both of age, they could di vide the estate between themselves." "Is that so?" he asked, in much sol emnity. "It is." "Well, then, tlier's obleeged to be somethin' rotten some'res. Pearce Amerson were a truth-tellin' man, albe, like me, he were not a perfessor o' re ligion. If he said them words, he be lieved 'em." "The difficulty, Mr. Flint, is in estab lishing this. C'ullen is dead, and could not testify if r.livo; neither can Ids wife. The law, as I told you, will stand to a will that is fairly made, but the law never lends countenance to /TTMHIII'inWHIiEI , , in, j ... rifM MW 3ffPfiW I 7^l® "DID SB SAT WHAT THIS WAS AND FROM WHOM HE OOT IT?" fraud of any kind. That It is in this case deep, black and damning there cannot be a doubt; and the people of that settlement where Mrs. Amerson was born and brought up ought to take some pains to help in finding It out." After somewhat of further conversa tion Mr. Flint left the office. When ready to start home he repaired again to the "Big Indian." "Gustus, you was right about what Arthur Dabney wan't with me. It's a mighty ticklish case, takes it all around; ticklisher than I ever thought. If Wile don't mind he'll get into hot water before it's done with. If I was him I'd couipermise,,and I'd do It speedy." "As soon as I heard it, Uncle Lishy, I knew rascality was somewhere. As for Hannah, and I'm not saying it because she's my kin, but it's a perfect shame how her character was handled by Wile Amerson to begin with; but I did think tho old man had got over it. And he had. I know he had. Now I'll tell you what I'm going to do, no business of mine if it is. I'm going to make it my business to find out all I can. Peo ple is excited about this cussed con cern, and I'm going to inquire among all I como across what they know that'll bo of any use to Hannah and her child." Faster than usual, Mr. Flint, as if to keep up with Rachels, drank his toddy. When he had finished, looking at tho tumbler sorrowfully, and turning it slanting as if to find if another drop might not be within it, ho said: "Right, my son, right. If I weren't a old man, I'd do the same. And I ain't that old I has to keep my mouth sliet complete. (Justus—you—may—" After uttering these words doubtfully, ho continued with decision: "No. I won't take any more, albo my mind have got cgzited about this thing. I've got a good ways to ride, and I must take a level head along- with me." Then, having obtained victory over tho temptation, ho smiled with much satisfaction and said: "Gustus, you want to know how como I not to be a drlnkin' man, that's to say, a hard-drinkln' man, as every body know IMshy Flint always is a per- O (ipff j "YOU WAST TO KNOW HOW COVE I NOT TO lIE A DRIXKIN' MAN?" son as try to be respectable, and keep respectable in the handlin' o' speerits, and mighty sildom, if he say it bis self, ho let it get beyant him, that it rather run in tho family from away back to be apt to knock speerits too heavy for their good? Well, I'll just up and tell you. When I weren't no more'u a boy, 1 found out, like the rest o' the Flints, that the taste of sweet ened dram was powerful sweet, not only In my mouth, but in my throat, and in my very jaws all tho way down; and so when 1 got a man and knowed I could git it whensoever I wanted it, I rnado up my mind I'd nev»r take It when 1 see I wanted it too bad. Of course, 'lthout the colic or some 'nother case o' sickness. Well, sir, the rule have worked wonderful. It's a hard mil ISfii detenn' to keep a stiff upper lip he can foller her. That's what I donestraight forrards. Many time somethin' hap pen and my jaws gits to a waterin' and a solid achin' for a dram, then I clamp 'em together tight, and I says to 'em: 'No, jaws, you want it too serwigous,' and so I let it go. It's the only safet est way to them that has a nat'ral strong likin' for the article. I'm not a-denyin' that this very minute, sech is the egzitement on my mind, that I wants one nother. and that strenious; but I'm too old to l>egin to break mv rule at this time o' day in my life. Goa bless you, Gnstus! You make 'em as good as I ever want to taste; but far' you well, Gustus." He bestowed a kind look of farewell upon the decanter, then, resolutely closing his jaws, came out, went for his horse, and rode away. CHAPTER XV. The most welcome of the few per sons who visited at the house of Mrs. Carruthers was Rachels. Yet he sel dom went there except when Owen was down with his rheumatic spells, that had become more frequent lately be cause he had l>een in possession of more pocket money than was usual, and so was in condition to resort to drinking places other than the "Big Indian." Suspecting where such supplies came from, Rachels ruminated upon them. His untiring kindness to the wayward cripple, not counting those of other kinds, had given rise to much gratitude in the mother. HeV chief income was from a two-thousand-dollar state bond bearing eight per cent, interest. Her black woman, Sally, besides home work, did washing and other outside Jobs, for which the neighbors paid more than liberal prices. Then she raised more vegetables and got from the cow more milk than the family needed, and the surplus was easily dis posed of. The cottage was on the street south of the Capitol square. It had a ground floor, on which were the kitchen and Sally's bedchamber. Above this were two rooms, a small parlor and another serving for both eating and sleeping. To these one as cended by steps leading from and along the street, fronting on a narrow portico, on which mother and son sometimes sat of summer evenings. From a corner of the rear room a flight of winding stairs led up to the attic where Owen slept. The place was kept scrupulously neat, even the back yard and the garden, wherein, besides vegetables, were fruit-trees and grape vines. Last of the few slaves once be longing there, Sally was devoted to her mistress and always ready to apologize for Owen's shortcomings. Whenever he was late returning home at night, she persuaded his mother to bed, and, comfortably nodding the while, awaited him. On his return, she let him in softly, had something hot in the kitchen ready if he desired it, cautioned him against disturbing the sleeper, and, after he had been disposed of, went to bed and slept like a baby. Awakened at cock-crowing, she rose with alacrity, mado her fire, and had breakfast ready the minute it was wanted. When Owen's rheumatism was upon him a couch in his mother's chamber was laid, which he accepted with more or less complaining during his confine ment. Between mother and son had grown at last an understanding that prevented domestic strife. The latter's irregularities were never commented upon there, except between Mrs. Car ruthcrs and Sally, whose excuses and palliations were, undor Heaven, the best consolation to'the mother. "Mistress," Sally said, many, many timert. "when Marse Owen come home, er he are fotch home top-heavy by Marse Gus Rachels, it ain't bercause he des wanted to git so; it's bercause he's 'flicted and can't hep it, en dat ain' so mighty of'n. Now, you know yourself it ain', en you earn' deny it. It mos'ly when he git money from dat Mis' Wile Am'son; dat when it mos'ly air." "Yes, and I wish the poor boy had never seen him." "Ah, well, my miss, de Lord'll per wlde; do Scrlptur say dat." One night, after Owen had been in bed near a week, Rachels came in. A visit from him always gratified the widow and was flattering to Owen. He demanded and got a fresh coverlet, and so disposed himself as to appear a be coming object of sympathy. The visit or, well understanding his soft, feeble words of greeting, after shaking hands passed on to tho fireplace, where his mother was sitting, took a chair and chatted with her about several matters in the town. In a little while he said: ".Missis (Jnrruthers, everybody seems to have their opinion about the way old man Amerson left his property, and I thought I'd ask what you thought of it." "Why, Mr. Rachels, I do think It's the very outrageousest and the mean est will that I ever heard of anybody's making, be they respectable or dlsre spectable." "But, ma!" cried Owen,as if impatient at another of her oft-repeated ex pressions in the matter, "you won't consider that the law of the land lets everybody do what they blame please with their property when they've done with it themselves." "So I've heard you say often, my son, and been told so by other people. But I can't help from having my opinion that it is a pity for a man to give a'mighty nigh every bit of his property to one child, and him not a-dcscrving of it nigh as much as tho other that's cut down to what in comparison is a little scrap." "You are perfectly right, Missis Carruthers," said Rachels, turning' a look of mild rebuke towards tho couch. "Such as that is a pity, and gen'ly it's founded on some sort of devilment, some'ros; and it's another pity that devilment can't always bo found out. l'eople all over the county is disgusted with such treatment of Oullen Amerson, who was worth more than a cow-pen of the sort of Wile, and him now dead, but leaving a widow and child—Owen," and bo turned directly towards him, "you ought to know something about that will business. You was one of the witnesses." "Yes, Gus, I was. As for the old man Amerson not being In his sound senses, there weren't any sort of doubt about that." "Nobody denies that; but the ques tion is how come he to make such a will, and tho question is what he done with it afterwards. Did you know what was in it when you signed it?" "That I didn't, no more than Billy Lilly and old man Flint, not one grain." "I>ln't you tuever hear the old man and Wiley talk an3'tliing about it?" "Well now, Ous," removing the cov erlet from off his breast, "there's such a thing as that a man ought to be rath er particular in the way a fellow talks about anything that he wasn't expect ed to talk at all." "Owen, just right here, beforo just me and your mother, you might as well come down off that high horse, which it's no occasion for you to bo there at such a time and on such a matter. You know I'm after no mean ness Iu trying to git you to sov what you oughtn't. You've got to tell some timo in the court house what you know. I can tell you as a friend, that never tried to do you any harm in your life, that your telling me what you know won't hurt you. aud it may do good when it's mighty plain some good ought to be dono if it can l>e done." this Rachels," he 1 nSTo23£L3 with some scorn, vet showing that he felt that he was with his superior, "I'm on no high horse, and don't want to be. You know I know .you're a friend to me— and ma—the best we're got; and I'm not afraid you want to get me into difficulties. I know monst'ous little about the thing anyway, and— '* "What did the old man say to Wile about making the will?" "You interrupt a man that way, when I was going on to say that I did happen to hear the old man say, one time, andgtiot but onetime, that if that piece, Hannah Enlow, expected to get any of las property, she'd find herself disappointed. She might disgrace the family, he said, but she'd get nothing by it. He said them words, or some like 'em, one day as he came in the office room when I was busy writing, from out the back room, where him and Mr. Amerson had been talking to gether for some time. I don't think he saw me. If he did, he didn't notice, but went on out. That was the day before the will was signed. That's every blessed thing I know about it. When he coine in the office with Billy Lilly and old man Flint, he just called for that paper from Mr. Amerson, and then signed it. and called on us to wit ness it, and then him and the other two, when the thing was over, they got up and went straight out the office." "He left the will witl. Wile; 'i !n't he? and you saw what was in u «.ter wards, didn't you?" "Yes. Of course I did. I had to do with all Mr. Araerson's papers what times I was with him, copying, and do ing one thing and another." "Copying?" "Yes; he keeps copies of nearly every business paper he's got; letters and all. You don't know as particular a man as Mr. Amerson is about his papers." "Did you ever hear the old man say anything about the will afterwards?" "Yes; I'm a-telling this to you, Gus, as I'd tell to not another soul, because you want me to, and I know you're not going to use it to hurt. It ain't much, nphow. About a year afterwards the old man come in the office. It was, if I remember, about the time Cullen's child was born, and he said he wanted to get that will and burn it up, because he had come to the conclusion that he had been entirely mistaken when he made it." "Didn't say what about?" "No—that is—well, he just said he wanted it right away. Mr. Amerson said it was at the house, which it was; and he said that when his father coma over that night, as he done nearly every night, he'd hand it to him." "Didn't say anything against de stroying it?" "Not one word. He was perfectly calm and seemed unconcerned. That's every single thing I ever knew about the plagued thing. And I hope you'll not put any more questions to me about Mr. Amerson. You don't think It's right for a man that's been a man's clerk to be talking about his business to other people, do you? Surely you don't, Gus Rachels? You wouldn't want to be treated so yourself by your clerk." "I wouldn't care one everlasting cent how my clerk answered questions put to him for good reasons by any honest person, provided he answered the truth and no lies." "All men ain't like you, Gus." "No, and I'm thankful to not be like Wile Amerson. Hut there's one or two more questions I'm going to put to you, whether you'll want me or not,and whether you answer them or not, straight up and down. You'd better* I tell you, for your own good, and I'lJ call on your mother right here to say if she don't think I'm right." "Certainly I do," she answered, with much earnestness. "Law me, OVen, you do talk so strange to the man you know is the very best and truest friencl you've got in this whole world, or your mother either. Why, Owen, your poor father would trj' to rise out of his grave if he was to know that in all this miser'ble business you had done anything you was ashamed for Mr. Rachels to know." fro BH COXTINCBD.] An ibMat-Hlnded Man. Among the personal anecdotes of Peter Burrows, the celebrated bar rister, nnd one of Ireland's Is the following remarkable instanca of absence of mind: A friend called upon him one morning in his dressing room and found him shaving with face to the wall. He asked why chose so strange an attitude. Tm answer was, "To look in the glass." "Why," said his friend, "There is nd glass there!" "Bless me!" Burrows odJ Bcrved, "I did not notice that before. 1 ' Ringing the bell, ho called his scrvan(j and questioned ltlm respecting tha looking glass. "Oh, sir," said the sen vant, "the mistress had it removed weeks ago." Time Enough. Lawyer—But, Mrs. Smith, It seems tq me that you have absolutely no for desiring a dlvorco. Yon tell ma that in all the twenty years of your married life your husband has treated you • with unvarying kindness, an J thatr- Fair Client—No cause? How long da you imagine it requires for one to coine thoroughly tired of the naina Smith? —Life. l>ld Bbe Tell John About Itf Old lady (to elderly brido on wedding trip)— That young man who just wenl Into the smoking compartment sccnuj very fond of you, ma'am. Elderly Bride —Ah, yes, John love* me most dearly 1 Old Lady—lt does my old heart goexj to see suoli affection these days. Is hQ tho only son you've got, ma'am? —Tit* .Bits A Valuable Keaion. "I have a reason for supporting tliis franchise ordinance," said Alderman Grabbit, briskly. But he got no further. "Haven't you cashed it in yot?" broke in a rude, coarse person, who was giveQ to mean insinuations. —Chicago Records A Danger For •••en. Maude —What ought I do when ono of those horrid men I'vo been flirting with tries to kiss me? Nellie —Tell him to stop, of course. Maudo (with alarm)— But suppose ha should obey me?— Chicago Record. Delaarte. Teacher—now do you Indicate grief? Pupil—By burying tho face In thG hands. Teacher —How bashfulness? Pupil—By burying thfl hands in tha face.—N. Y. World. An ITupardonable OlTenee. Friend—Aren't you really afraid of that handsome rival of yours? Smartehap—Not a bit. "Ho is very rich." "Yes." "A great favorite with the ladies." "I know it." "Yet you have no fear?" "No. He- guessed at her age once, and got her only two years younger than she Is."—N. Y. Weekly. The Young Avenger. He was a pretty little youngster,with little fat legs that stuck out beneath clean, stlff-starehed clothes. "What are you going to do when you grow up to be a man?" asked a visitor. Tho little fellow's face assumed an expression of enrncst gravity as he re sponded with a volco which was cvi» dantly ehakoti by pad memories of tha