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-,--»»ie«»* l >\* l v i 'Sn«ft \• •'<:. : .^ !t ; rrrr rr—^'f • THIS WATKRTOWN ElS-TJNiO». I' :i H P -. By FRANCIS LYNDE Illustrations by C. D. RHODES csan (UopyriKiic by Cna-ries Scrionoi-b Sons) SYNOPSIS. —2— Kenneth Griswold, an unsuccessful writer because of socialistic tendencies, Bups with his friend Balnhridire at Chau- diere's restaurant In New Orleans and declares that if necessary he u'h s. .-p' tn keen from starving. He holds up Andrew Galbraith, president of the Bajou Btate Security, In his private office and esc ipes With 5100.000 In cash. By original method* he escapes the hue and cry. CHAPTER III—Continued. \The dragon may have teeth and claws, but it can neither see nor smell,\ he said, contemptuously, turn- ing his steps riverward again. \Now I have only to choose my route and go in peace. How and where are the only remaining questions to be an- swered.\ For an hour or more after his re- turn to the riverfront, Griswold idled up and down the levee; and the end of the interval found him still undecid- ed as to the manner and direction of his flight—to say nothing of the choice of a destination, which was even more evasive than the other and more im- mediately pressing decision. His first thought had been to go back to New York. But there the risk of detection would be greater than else- where, and he decided that there was no good reason why he should incur It. Besides, he argued, there were oth- er fields in which the sociological studies could be pursued under condi- tions more favorable than those to be iound in a great city. In his mind's eye he saw himself domiciled In some thriving interior town, working and studying among people who were not unindividualized by an artificial en- vironment. In such a community theory and practice might go hand in hand; he could know and be known; and the money at his command would be vastly more of a molding and con- trolling influence than it could possi- bly be in the smallest of circles in New York. The picture, struck out upon the instant, pleased him, and hav- ing sufficiently idealized it, he adopted It enthusiastically as an inspiration, leaving the mere geographical detail to arrange itself as chance, or subse- quent events, might determine. That part of the problem disposed of, there yet remained the choice of a line of flight; and it was a small thing that finally decided the manner of his going. For the third time in the hour of aimless wanderings he found him- self loitering opposite the berth of the Belle Julie, an up-river steamboat whose bell gave sonorous warning of the approaching moment of departure. Toiling roustabouts, trailing in and out like an. endless procession of human ants, were hurrying the last of tha car- go aboard. \Poor devils! They've been told that they are free men, and perhaps they believe it. But surely no slave of the Toulon galleys was ever in bit- terer bondage. . . . Free?—yes, free to toil and sweat, to bear burdens and to be driven like cattle under the yoke! Oh, good Lord!—look at that!\ The ant procession had attacked the final tier of boxes in the lading, and one of the burden-bearers, a white man, had stumbled and fallen like a crushed pack animal under a load too heavy for him. Griswold was beside him in a moment. The man could not rise, and Griswold dragged him not un- tenderly out of the way of the others. \Where are you hurt?\ The crushed one sat up and spat blood. \I don't know: inside, somewheres. I been dyln' on my feet any time for ft. year or two back.\ \Consumption?\ queried Griswold, briefly. \I reckon so.\ \Then you have no earthly business In a deck crew. Don't you know that?\ The man's smile was a ghastly face- wrinkling. \Reckon I hain't got any business unywheres—out'n a horspital or a hole to th» ground. But I kind o' thought Pd like to be planted 'kmgside the Soman and the childer, if I oould make out some way to git there.\ \Where?\ The consumptive named a Bmall riv- er town in Iowa. In Griswold impulse was the domi- nant chord always struck by an appeal *o his sympathies. His compassion Trent straight to the mark, as it was sure to do when his pockets were not «mpty, \What Is the fare by rail to your «own?\ he inquired. \I don't know: I never asked. Some- wheres between twenty ana thirty dol- lars, I reckon; and that's more money than I've seen sence the woman died.\ Griswold hastily counted out a hun- dred doilarB from, his pocket fund and thrust the money into the man's hand. \Take that and change places with me,\ he commanded, slipping on the mask of gruffness again. \Pay your Jare on the train, and I'll take your lob on the boat. Don't be a fool!\ he lidded, when the man put his face in his hands and began to choke. \It's » fair enough exchange, and I'll get as much out of It one way aa you will the other. What is your name? 1 jour &*••• *• borrow u.\ \Garttt—John Wesley Gavitt.\ \All right; off with you,\ said the liberator, curtly; and with that he shouldered the sick man's load and fell into line in the ant procession. Once on board the steamer, he fol- lowed his file leader aft and made it his first care to find a safe hiding place for the tramp's bundle In the knotted handkerchief. That done, he stepped into the line again, and be- came the sick man's substitute in fact. It was toil of the shrewdeBt, and he drew breath of blessed relief when the last man staggered up the plank with his burden. The bell was clanging its final summons, and the slowly revolv- ing paddle-wheels were taking the strain from the mooring lines. Being near the bow line Griswold was one of the two who spring ashore at the mate's bidding to cast off. He was backing the hawser out of the last of its half-hitches, when a carriage was driven rapidly down to the stage and two tardy passengors hurried aboard. The mate bawled from his station on the hurricane deck. \Now then! Take a turn on that spring line out there and get them trunks aboard! Lively!\ The larger of the two trunks fell to the late recruit; and when he had ser. it down a t the door of the designated stateroom, he did half absently what John Gavitt might have done -without blame: read the tacked-on card, which bore the owner's name and address, written in a firm hand: \Charlotte Farnham, Wahaska, Minnesota.\ \Thank you,\ said a musical voice at his elbow. \May I trouble you to put It Inside?\ Griswold wheeled as if the mild- toned request had been a blow, and was properly ashamed. But when he saw the speaker, consternation prompt- ly slew all the other emotions. For the owner of the tagged trunk was the young woman to whom, an hour or so earlier, he had given place at the pay- ing teller's wicket in the Bayou State Security. She saw hla confusion, charged it to the card-reading at which she had sur- prised him, and smiled. Then he met her gaze fairly and became Bane again when he was assured that Bhe did not recognize him: became sane, and whipped off his cap, and dragged the trunk into the stateroom. After which he went to his place on the lower deck with a great thankfulness throbbing in his heart and an inchoate resolve shaping itself in his brain. Late that night, when the Belle Julie was well on her way up the great river, he flung himself down upon the sacked coffee on the engine room-guard to snatch a little rest between land- ings, and the reBolve became sufficient- ly cosmic to formulate itself in words. \I'll call it an oracle,\ he mused. \One place is as good as another, just so it Is inconsequent enough. And I am sure I've never heard of WahaEka.\ Now Griswold the social rebel was, before all things else, Griswold the im- aginative literary craftsman; and no sooner was the question of his ulti- mate destination settled thus arbitrari- ly than he began to prefigure the place and its probable lacks and havings. This process brought him by easy stages to pleasant Idealizings of Miss Charlotte Farnham, who was, thuB far, the only tangible thing connected with the destination dream. A little farther of a book may put anything else he pleases in it and snap his fingers at the world. If I am going to live in the same town with her. I ought to jot her down on paper before I lose the keen edge of the first impression.\ He considered it for a moment, and then got up and went In search of a pencil and a scrap of paper. The doz- ing night clerk gave him both, with a sleepy malediction thrown in; and he went back to the engine room and scribbled his word picture by the light of the swinging incandescent. He read it over thoroughly when it was finished, changing a word here and a phrase there with a craftsman's fidelity to the exactnesses. Then he shook his head regretfully and tore the scrap of paper into tiny squares, scat- tering them upon the brown flood surging past the engine room gangway. \It won't do,\ he confessed reluct- antly, as one who sacrifices good liter-' ary material to a stern sense of the fitness of things. \It is nothing less than a cold-blooded sacrilege. I can't make copy of her if I write no more while the world stands.\ CHAPTER IV. « She Saw His Confusion, and Charged It to the Card Reading. along her personality laid hold of him and the idoalizings became purely lit- erary. \She is a magnificently strong type!\ was his summing up of her, made while he was lying fiat on his back and staring absently at the flitting shadows among the deck beams over- head. \Her face 1B as readable as only the face of a woman instinctively good and pure In heart can be. Any man who can put her between the covers The Deck Hand, Charlotte Farnham's friertdB—their number, was ,the number of those who had seen her grow from childhood to maiden—and womanhood—com- monly identified her for inquiring strangers as \good old Doctor Bertie's 'only,'\ adding, men and women alike, that she was as well-balanced and sen- Bible as she was good to }ook upon. She had been spending the winter at Pass Christian with her aunt, who was an invalid; and it was for the invalid's sake that she had decided to make the return journey by river. So It had come about that their staterooms had been taken on the Belle Julie; and on the morning of the second day out from New Or- leans, Miss Gilman was BO far from being travel sick that she was able to sit with Charlotte in the shade of the hurricane deck aft, and to enjoy, with what quavering enthusiasm there was In her, the matchless scenery of the lower Mississippi. At Baton Rouge the New Orleans papers came aboard, and Miss Farn- ham bought a copy of the Louisianlan. As a matter of course, the first page leader was a circumstantial account of the daring robbery of the Bayou State Security, garnished with star- tling headlines. Charlotte read It, half-absently at first, and a second time with interest awakened and a quickening.of the pulse when she real- ized' that she had actually been a wit- ness of the final act in, the near-trag- edy. Her little gasp of belated horror brought a query from the Invalid. \What is It, Charlie, dear?\ For answer, Charlotte read the news- paper story of the robbery, headlines and all. \For pity's sake! in broad daylight! How shockingly bold!\ commented Miss Gilman. \Yes; but that wasn't what made me gasp. The paper says: 'A young lady was at the teller's window when the robber came up with Mr. Gal- braith—' Aunt Fanny, I was the 'young lady'!\ \You? horrors!\ ejaculated the in- valid, holding up wasted hands of dep- recation. Charlotte the well-balanced, smiled at the purely personal limitations of her aunt's point of view. \It is very dreadful, of course; but it is no worse just because I happened to be there. Yet it seems ridiculously Incredible. I can hardly believe it, even now.\ \Incredible? How?\ \Why there wasn't anything about It to suggest a robbery. Now that I know, I remember that the old gentle- man did seem anxious or worried, or at least, not quite comfortable some way; but the young man was smiling pleasantly, and he looked like anything rather than a desperate criminal.\ Miss Gilman's New England conserv- atism, unweakened by her long resi- dence in the West, took the alarm at i once. \But no one in the bank knew you. They couldn't trace you by your fa- ther's draft and letter of identifica- tion, could they?\ Charlotte was mystified. \I Bhould suppose they could, if they wanted to. But why? What if they could?\ \My dear child; don't you see? They are sure to catch the robber, sooner or later, and if they know how to find you, you might be dragged into court as a witness!\ Miss Farnham was not less averse to publicity than the conventionalities demanded, but she had, or believed she had, very clear add well-defined ideas of her own touching her duty In any matter involving a plain question of right and wrong. \1 shouldn't wait to bo dragged,\ she asserted quietly. \It would be a simple duty to go willingly. The first thing I thought of waB that I ought to write at once to Mr. Galbralth, giv- ing him my address.\ Thereupon issued discussion. At mm the end of the argument the consent ative one had extorted a conditional promise from her niece. The matter should remain in abeyance until the question of conscientious obligation had been submitted to Charlotte's fa. ther and decided by, him. An hour later, when Miss Gilman was deep in the last Installment of the current serial, Charlotte let her book slip from-her fingers and gave herself to the passive enjoymei.t of the slow- ly-passing panorama which Is the chief charm of inland voyaging. From where she was sitting she could see the steamer's yawl swinging from its tackle at the stbrnrstaff; and after many minutes it was Blowly borne In upon her that the ropes were, working loose. A man cams aft to make the loosened tacklfi fast. Something half familiar in his man- ner attracted Charlotte's attention, and her eyes followed him as he went on and hoisted the yawl Into place. When he came back she had a fair sight of his face and her eyes met his. In the single swift glance half-formed suspicion became undoubted certainty; she looked again and her heart gave a great bound and tnen seemed sud- denly to forget Its office. It was use- less to try to escape from the dismay- do if she had penetrated his dlsguisa? He had a pock of genuine terror at this point and his skin, prickled a» at the tpuch of something loathsomei Up to that moment ha had suffered none of the pains of the hunted fu- gitive; but he knew now that jhe had fairly entered the. gates of the out- law's Inferno; that however cunning- ly he might cast about to throw his pursuers off the track, he would never again know what it was to be wholly free from the terror of the arrow that flieth by day. The force of the Scriptural simile came to him with startling emphasis, bringing on a return of the prickling, dismay. The stopping of the paddle- wheels and the rattling clangor of the gang-plank winch aroused him to ac- tion and he shook off the creeping numbness ant! ran aft to rummage un- der the cargo on the engine-room guards for his precious bundle. When his hand reached' the place where.it should have been, the blood surged to his brain and set up a clamorous dinning in his ears like the roaring of a cataract. The niche between the coffee sacks was empty. The Niche Between the Coffee Sacks Was Empty. ing fact. The stubble-bearded deck- hand with the manner of a gentleman was most unmistakably a later rein- carnation of the pleasantly smiling young man who had courteously made way for her at the teller's wicket in the Bayou State Security; who had smiled and given place to her while he was holding his pistol aimed at President Galbraith. It was said of Charlotte Farnham. that she was sensible beyond her years, and withal strong and straight- forward in honesty of purpose. None the less, she was a woman. And when she saw what was before her, con- science turned traitor and fled away to give place to an uprush of hesitant doubts born of the sharp trial of the moment. She got upon her feet, steadying her- self by the back of her shair. She felt that she could not trust herself if she once admitted the thin edge of the wedge of delay. The simple and straightforward thing to do was to go Immediately to the captain and tell him of her discovery, but she Bhrank from the thought of what must follow. They would seize him: he had proved that he was a desperate man, and there would be a struggle. And when the struggle was over they would bring him to her and she would have to stand fortn as his accuser. It was too Bhocking, and she caught at the suggestion of an alternative with a gasp of relief. She might write to President Galbraith, giving such a description of the deck-hand as would enable the officers to Identify him without her personal help. It was like dealing the man a treacherous blow in the back, but she thought it would be kinden \Aunt Fanny,\ she began, with her fate averted, \I promised you I wouldn't write to Mr. Galbraith until after we reachfd home—until I had told papa. I haie been thinking about it since, and 1—1 think it must be done at once.\ + * * * * • • Griswold had come upon Miss Farn- ham unexpectedly, and when he passed her on his way forward he had seen the swift change in her face betoken- ing some sudden emotion, and the rec» ollection of it troubled him. What if this clear-eyed young person had recognized him? He knew that the New Orleans papers had come aboard; he had seen the folded copy of the Louisiaillan in the Invalid's lap. Consequently, Miss Farnham knew of the robbery, and ,tne incidents were fresh In her mind. What would she CHAPTER V. The Chain Gang, While Griswold was grappling afresh with the problem of escape, and planning to desert the Belle Julie at the next landing, Charlotte Farnham was sitting behind the locked door of her Btateroom with a writing- pad on her knee' over which for many min- utes the suspended pen merely hov- ered. She had fancied that her re- solve, once fairly taken, would not stumble over a simple matter of de- tail. But when Bhe had tried a dozen times to begin the letter to Mr, Gal- braith, the simplicities vanished and complexity stood in their room. Try as she might to put the sham deck-hand into his proper place as an impersonal unit of a class with which society is at war, he perversely re- fused to surrender his individuality. At the end of every fresh effort she was confronted by the inexorable sum- ming-up: In a world of phantoms there were only two real persons; a man who had sinned,* and a woman who was about to make him pay the pen- alty. It was all very well to reason about it, and to say that he ought to be made to pay the penalty; but that did not make it any less Bhocking that s,he, Charlotte Farnham, should be the one to set the retributive machinery in motion. Yet she knew she had the thing to do, and so, after many in- effectual attempts, the letter was writ- ten and sealed and addressed, and she went out to mail it at the clerk's office. AB It chanced, the engines of the steamer were slowing for a landing when she latched her Btateroom door. The doors giving upon the forward saloon deck were open, and she heard the harsh voice of the mate exploding in sharp commands as the steamer lost way and edged slowly up to the river bank. A moment later she was outside, leaning on the Jail and look- ing down upon the crew grouped about the inboard end of the uptilted landing stage. He was there; the man for whose destiny accident and the con- ventional sense of duty had made her responsible; and as she looked she had a fleeting glimpse of his face. It was curiously haggard and woe- begone; so sorrowfully changed that for an instant she almost doubted his identity, The sudden transformation added fresh questionings, and she be- gan to ask herself thoughtfully what had brought it about Then the man •turned slowly and looked up at her as if the finger of her thought had touched him. There wa? no sign of recognition in his eyes; and she con- strained herself to gaze down upon him coldly. But when Belle Julie's bow touched the bank, and the wait- ing crew melted suddenly into a tenu- ous line of burdenrbearers, she fled through the deserted saloon to her stateroom and hid the fatal letter un- der the pillows in her berth. That evening, after dinner, she went forward with aonie of tile other pas- sengers to the railed promenade which was the common evening rendezvous. The Belle Julie, had tied up at a small town on the western bank of the great river, and the ant procession of rousta- bouts was in motion, going laden up the swing stage and returning empty by the foot plank. Left to herself for a moment, Charlotte faced the rail and again sought to single out the man whose fate she must decide. She distinguished him presently; a grimy, perspiring unit in the crew, tramping back and forth mechanically, Btaggering under the heaviest loads, and staring stonily at the back of his file leader in endless round; a picture of misery and despair, Charlotte thought, and she was turning away with the dangerous rebellion against the conventions swelling again in her heart when Captain Mayfield joined her. \I just wanted to show you/' he said; and he pointed out a gang of men repairing a slip in the levee em- bankment below the town landing. It was a squad of prisoners in chains. The figures of the convicts were struck out sharply against the dark background of undergrowth, and the reflection of the'sunset glow on the river lighted Up their sullen faces and burnished the use-worn links in their leg-fetters. \The chain-gang,\ said the captain, briefly. \That's about Where the fel- low that robbed the Bayou State Se- curity will bring up, if they catch him. He'll have to be mighty tough and wellrseasoned if he lives to worry through twenty years of that, don't you think?\ But Miss Farnham' could not an- swer; and even the unobservant <aap tain of river boats saw that she vat moved and was sorry he had spoken. In any path of perf6rm$noiS there is but- one step which is irrevocable, namely, the final one, and in Charlotte Farnham's besetment thiB step was the mailing of the letter to Mr. Galbraith.\ Many times during the evening Bhe wrought 'herself up to the plunging point) only to recoil on th« very brlhk; and when at length she gave up the the struggle and went to Bed, the sealed letter was still under her pil- low. Now It is a well-accepted truism that an exasperated sense of duty, like remorse and grief, fights best in the night' watches. It was of no avail to protest that her intention was still unshaken. Conscience urged that de- lay was little less culpable than refus- al, since every hour gave the criminal an added chance of escape. The min- uses dragged leaden-winged, arid, to sit quietly in the silence and solitude of the great saloon became a nenve- racking impossibility. When it went past endurance, she rose and stepped out upon the promenade deck. The Belle Julie was approach- ing a landing. The electric search- light eye on the hurricane deck was just over her' head, and its great white cone seemed to hiss as it poured its dazzling flood of fictitious noonday upon the shelving'river bank and the sleeping hamlet beyond'. Out of the dusky underflow came the freight car? riers, giving birth to a file of grotesque shadow monsters as they swung up the plank into the field of-the searchlight. The foot plank had been drawn in, the steam winch was clattering, and the landing stage had begun to come aboard, when the two men whose duty it was to cast off ran out on the tilting stage and dropped from its shore end. One of them fell clumsily, tried to rise, and sank back into the shadow; bat the other scrambled up the steep bank and loosened the half-hitches in the' wet hawser. With the Blackening of the line the §teamer\began to move out into the stream, and the man at the mooring post looked around to see what had become of his com- panion. \Get a move oh youse!\ bellowed the mate; but instead of obeying, the man ran back and went on his kneea beside the huddled figure in the shadow. At this point the watcher on th« promenade deck began vaguely to un- derstand that the first man was dis- abled in some way, and that the other was trying to lift him. While she looked, the engine-room bells jangled and the wheels began to turn. The mate forgot her and swore out of a full heart She put her fingers in her ears to shut out the clamor of abusive pro- fanity; but the man on the bank paid\ no attention to the richly emphasized command to come aboard. Instead, he ran swiftly to the mooring post, took a double turn of the trailing hawser around it and stood by until the strain- ing line snubbed the steamer's bow to the shore. Then, deftly casting oft again, he darted back to the disabled man, hoisted him bodily to the high guard, and clambered aboard himself; all this while McGrath was brushing the impeding crew aside to get at him. Charlotte saw every move of the quick-witted salvage in the doing, and wanted to cry out in sheer enthusiasm When it was done. Then, in the light from the furnace doors, she saw the face of the chief actor; it was the face of the man with the stubble beard. She could not hear what McGrath was saying, but she could read hot wrath in his gestures, and in the way the men fell back out of his reach. All but one: the stubble-bearded white man was facing him fearlessly, and he appeared to be trying to explain. Griswold was trying to explain, but the bullying first officer would not let him. It was a small matter; with the money gone, and the probability that capture and arrest were'deferred only from landing to landing, a little abuse, more or less, counted as nothing. But he was grimly determined to keep Mc- Grath from laying violent hands upon the negro who had twisted his ankle in jumping from the uptilted landing- stage. \No; this is one time when you don't skin anybody alive!\ he retorted, when a break in the stream of abuse gave him a chance. \You let the man alone. He cou.ldn't help it. Do you suppose he sprained an ankle purpose- ly to give you a chance to curse him out?\ The mate's reply was a brutal kick at the crippled negro. Griswold came closer. (TO BE CONTINUED.) Cynical Recipe for Success. Oliver Onions, author of \Mush- room Town,\ etc., recently remarked: \A cynical friend told me the other day that the secret of success was to get a name for incorruptibility and then go ahead and corrupt it for much gold. I'm sure there's a weak spot in this somewhere, but judging from a good many, both of writers and poli- ticians, perhaps there's something in it Only unfortunately I can't apply the reciDe to my own work, because I have too much fun writing to think about corruption one way or the other.\ ACTS WAITER TO \Cozy\ Is Hardly the Word to Use. \Of course,\ said Mrs. M. T. Cack- ler, \it is real nice In the newspapers to describe the new Muehlebach ho- tel as cozy and homelike, but I should call a building With a tea furore and a cafe centurion, With marble floors and pillOwB of lapsus linguae and male faction, and with gleaming chanti- cleers impending from the doomed ceil ings, a great deal- more rotund than coxy.\—Kansas City 8ui\ Young San Francisco Preacher Serves Soup So Well Friends Don't Recognize Him. San Francisco.T-\He also sees the. play who only serves as waiter.\ . This is a new reading by Rev, Arch Perrin,, pastor of the Church pi St Mary the Virgin, who in order to. see a ,play acted as a waiter for mem- bers of the Family club on their an- nual outing to their \farm\ in the foothills out from Redwood City. Men he had married and whose children he had christened didn't rec- ognize him. He wore a false mus- tache and a waiter's jacket, and he dealt soup from the elbow without spilling it and passed unnoticed, The story has only just leaked out among his parishioners. The young pastor was very uesirous of seeing Martin V, Merle's forest play, \The Spirit of Youth.'- presented' Enlisted With a Band of Extra Walters. with music by Case Downing in the aew open-air theater of the Famil>\ sslub. He,was not a member o£ the .club, and invitations were extended Dnly to out-of-town visitors. So Father Perrin enlisted with a band,of extra waiters for the dinner preceding the presentation of the play, and passed the evening unde- leted. Also, he saw the play he went to see-^-and liked it TO RESCUE ON SURFBOARD Officer of Steamship Carries Line to Save Light Tenders From <» Starvation. San Francisco.—Two light tenders it Point San Lucas, the southerly end >f Lower California, were saved from leath by starvation recently by L. C. Hansen, first officer of the Pacific Mail Iteamer Newport. Hansen said he would take a line ishore. He rode breaker after break- )r on a surfboard until he finally was :ast up exhausted on the shore. Han- len was unable to move for several pinutes and the two lighthouse men pere too weak from lack of food to Jaul on the line that Hansen brought ihem. After a rest Hansen was able to leave in the line, which brought a louble line from the boat, and to this vas attached a series of life buoys with ;he food made fast to them in water- ;ight cans. FORMS- A \DEVIL'S ROSARY\ Mew Mexico Snake Killer's \Beads\ Are Hundred Rattlers of Reptiles. Tucumcari, N. M.—One hundred rattlesnakes is the record of C. T. Taylor of Lesbia, who claims to be :he champion snake killer of eastern ^ew Mexico. He now has a hundred •attlers on a long string which he ;alls his \devil's rosary.' Taylor says this is the dangerous leason for rattlers, as they have been Jhedding their skins and are partially }lind and very mean. FLOOD LIFTS COW INTO TREE <\mong Other Freakish Stunts Maryland It Steals Barrel of Vinegar. In Frederick, Md.—Queer freaks were alayed by a cloudburst which swept iver a section of Frederick county % County Commissioner Frank M. Ste- rens of Creagerstown lost two COWB. He found one of them in tne fork of a peach tree seven feet from the ground, riamuel Geisbert of Creagerstown, who thought he had taken every movable Dbject from his cellar, lost a barrel of vinegar. Accident Reveals Hoard. Sunbury, Pa.---Missing his horse, Allen Moore, an AugUsta farmer, found that he had fallen Into an abandoned well. A block and tackle operated by B0 men hauled the animal out, and also an old rusty bucket with a sealed top which had caught in one of the horse's shoes. When Moore cut the top of the bucKet out rollel a stream of silver coins of Spanisli mintage of a face value of about i 1,000. '<§V /I
