The Algona Republican from Algona, Iowa on December 30, 1891 · Page 8
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The Algona Republican from Algona, Iowa · Page 8

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Algona, Iowa
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Wednesday, December 30, 1891
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PPUBLICAN, ALGO^'A, 10WA y WBDKK815A^ DlCCEMbEll Sp, 1891. . ' -..' ' ....'..,. ^,__,. m ^J_u JJ _J«,. ,_..,..•, . „ ( . .. , „ - , t .'.'.I. iLI.I. I '. i '. ' .1-' ' HEADS ARE BETTER THAN ONE, Two lovers sat together, 'Twas tho evo of Now Year's day. And he muttered his confession. In a timi-.l lover's way. He had formed a. rRSolution, And ho wanted her to hear What, great tiaings ho had been planning TV bo done tho coming year. He'd resolved that he would win her; But the maiden shook her head. Anil she blushed for just a moment. Then she answered him and said. As her eyes in frolic twinkled And she laughed aloud, ha, ha! "You had better make another That will take iu my papa." her will to keep froffl Scteafialiig, and the 8lip-Blip-cte5k-6reaktAtne nearer fttad '•" '*' ' Hcrr> petition to J(892. When Nature seeks with fond caressing To clotho tlie earth in vernal dressing, Give us, we beg, an Easter blcssingl On May the first, when moving traces Can be discerned upon our faces, Move us, we pray, to better places! ti> ._ When July comes, with tramp and bummer, And iceman takes tho place of plumber, Give us a Fourth that Is a hummorl When Summer gtris get tired of rowing, And take to reading and to sewing, Give them some men to keep things goingl In Autumn, when tho trees grow thinner, And loaves descend on saint and slnnor, Give us a good Thanksgiving, dinnert And when, in hoary old December, Wo sit before tho dying ombor, Give us a Christmas to remembcrl TOM MASSON. their estrangement, carefully omitting none of the factors making the integer of their alienation? Marston was quite positive in his own mind that Mary had been entirely too whimsical for any sane man to tolerate for a moment, much less a lifetime, and Mary was quite as sure in her mind that John Marston was the most perfectly outrageous man she had ever met in the whole course of her existence. Observe, gentle reader, that these two people were sure "in their minds" of this thing. What degree of certainty was registered in their hearts will appear later. Be it as it may, tho years had crept along slowly enough, until as many as three lay between tho New Year's day when John had turned his back on the east and Mary and the one which, G-od willing, was to find him once more under the old roof where he had known all that the world seemed to have for him, until this unkindly parting had suddenly flung him into such a chaos of unknown things that at first he wandered OAICES. JOHN M ALSTON'S EETUKN STORY FOB THE :;iLW YEAR LALU'TON. BY W. J. and rhyme the Jieavy upon them. All rislits reserved.] L A S! how easily things go wrong, A word too much, or a kiss too long. Ami there cometh a midt aud a blinding rain, Aud lil'uia never tho aame again. So wrote the with regret- tears in every word, and so have hearts moaned, when quivering lips could not put into meter thoughts which lay It has been true always", and the poet wrote of uo new discovery; he merely put words to the old, old chords in a minor key, which have beateu upon the sounding boards of men's aud women's hearts since men and women were. If one who had been interested m them had asked John Marston and Mary Palvty why they were no longer friends, as they bad beensinco childhood, neither she in her quiet home iu New England, »or Le iu rut- active, thriving western town could uave given a definite answer. The v would hav« wade the attempt, of cour.be, t'ucu according to the light pos>< r who has ever known lo«>W ,u;im)led to be unable to give a e*i«Udt a»4 satMaetory e*plaua- jio.a->—to iheiusBlves—^of tfae course or about among them as one bewildered and blinded by a great shock. In it all, however, and through it all, the spirit of the girl he had left behind him. shone as a soft light in a misty atmosphere, and do what he would, her face came ever between him and the faces of all other women. He flirted with the pretty maidens of the west, of course; he would scarcely have been a man if he had not, but he was proof against all their womanly wiles and willingness, and they had him listed as "heartless," but he only smiled at that and went on his way untouched, but not unfeeling. Now, when ho was 0:1 the point of returning to the place of beginning, they saw a bit of newer siinlight in his face, a tenderer look from his eyes than any yet of them had ever won from him, and some said that it might be Mr. Marston was not such an emotional Gibraltar as they had fancied him to be. He got away at last, and in the rattle of the train and the whirr of the wheels the west began to fall away backward along the straight lines of steel stretching across the prairie, aud Marston dreamed of the east. The east, where the sun rose—would it ever rise again? In the little New England town among the hills, up to its knees in the snow, there was the usual holiday hilarity, not unmixed with that intangible sadness which ever falls about and infolds the days of the dying year. Christmas had come and gone, and the children were as happy as children only are at Christmas, and the older grown were drawing their dividends of enjoyment as well from Santa Glaus and the season. New Year's was following fast upon the crispy heels of the departing Santa Clauii, and as a fitting tribute to the time it was decided to have a "watch meeting." Not an ordinary watch meeting, but a big one—a union meeting in which the congregations of the four churches of the village were to unite and wait in prayer f or the going out of the old year and hail with praise the coming in of the new. Joliiy Marston, the village's leading representative abroad, was expected to be there, and on New Year's night he was to have a grand party at the Marston home, where all might welcome him back again. In tho preliminary preparations Mary Palvey was unusually active, if it was unusual for the busy little woman to be •active on any occasion of this kind, and there was a cheery light in her face which made her very presence warm, albeit a flecking cloud fell athwart it at intervals and left a shadow there. For Mary's head and her heart had p,ot been harmonious during the three years gone, and more than one disagreement had arisen between them over this pame Mar&fe>n-P«lvey was at this very their l»et Watch night came, and everybody was there except John Marston. "Train delayed," they said at the railway station, and you know how much further inforrnation is always obtainable under such circumstances from railway officials. As the night wore on and the watchers grew more silent, the solemnity of the hour seeming to descend upon the place as a great weight. Mary could endure it no longer. Quietly and unobserved she slipped out into the open air. It was a relief to her, and she walked away into the stillness tinder the voiceless stars, over the crisp and crystal snow, until she came to tho little chapel at the edge of the town where on Sundays she played the organ for the choir. Unconsciously she turned into the churchyard. She knew where the sexton kept the key under a corner of the step, and opening the door, she passed in and down the aisle to her accustomed place. The chapel was not cold, for services had been held there earlier in the evening, but she drew her heavy cloak about her shoulders with a little shiver and sat down on tho organ stool. But not with music or song in her heart. . She had waited for John and he had not come. She had longed for him and there was no response. She had wept for him, down there among the watchers, and she was angry with herself. But here, alone in the silent darkness, she bowed her head upon her hands and prayed. Prayed that he might come safely home; prayed for him and for her. Evidently Mary's heart was triumphing over her head, but the end was not At the end of the aisle it stopped, ae if in doubt which way to turn, and her 'heart teat slower; then it passed, still slipping, over to' the other comer, and she gave a faint sigh of relief. She couldn't' hare prevented It if she had died for it, she was certain. On the instant the sickening, awful, invisible stepping ceased; then it seemed to turn toward her. Nearer and nearer it came, until she could hear the breathing, until the hands cautiously groping in the dark slid along the organ top and touched her. She shrank away, but there was a quick start and two great hands clutched her, and their fingers crawled up to her throat. She tried to scream then, but she could not. It was" as if she was in a frightful nightmare. "Hold on! I've got you, you darned thief I" came a voice, suppressed and terrible, and with it came the last remaining vestige of poor Mary's wits. "Oh, John!" she gasped. Then she fainted dead away. "Well, if this don't beat alll" exclaimed the marauder out of the darkness. Then: "Mary, Mary!" he called, shaking her vigorously. "Scared the poor girl to death, I'll bet a corner lot," he soliloquized in a ludicrously frightened voice, with the vernacular of the east and the west contending for mastery in his words. He picked her up, now almost as nervous as she had been only a few moments before, and carried her outside. He looked down upon the still, white face as the light from the snow shone upon it, and with a great bound in his heart he stooped and kissed her. Then how all the little stars did twinkle, twinkle, and Mary opened her eyes. The next moment she was on her feet and mad. Mary's head was triumphing now. "Come," she said, "there's a watch meeting at the hall, Mr. Marston, and I should be there; not here." "With your hand in mine, Mary," he answered her, standing fast. She put her hand in his then, and thus they walked back, and as the watchers rose from their knees with a song of rejoicing and praise, John and Mary, frand in hand, came in with the new year. ****** "It's funny," said Mrs. Marston a month later on the local train west, "that John should have noticed the chapel door ajar on his way from the depot that night, and thinking a thief was inside had come in and caught me there, wasn't it?" "Yes'm," responded the conductor, who had known her from childhood, "and if I hadn't been late' that night there's no telling what wouldn't have happened either, is there?" And there isn't. By/BtfQUS W "At'last, 5 * the cried, rifling oft her knew, und smoothing t« «rt» •*! knew he had not destroyed Mfc n "Pretty neatly, however," said Catitott, as hla eye glanced rapidly over lt| "it's almost useless as it is, seeing there's no name to it." He took it over to the window and Spread- Ktt'lfi&igUttUa iMt ftt-ft* & than tif '•,' ' •" "I doh*t tettevS ifetoflted Kilsip, deliberately. We. Gorby looked upon him frith AtEOite «*No, of cotiri| you don't, Just beeatMftPv*- caught him. Perhaps when you aeo him hattgM yottll believe it then." "You're atWttalt man, you are," retorted it out upon the table. It was dirty, and half burnt, but still It was a dew. The above Is a fac-simiiebf the letter. "There's not much to be gained from that, I'm afraid," said Madge, Badly. "It shows he had an appointment—but wheref Garlton did not answer, but, leaning his head on his hands, stared hard at the paper. AtUast he jumped up with a cry— "I have it," he said In an excited tone. "Look at that paper{ see how creamy and White it is, and, above all, look at the printing in tho corner—'OT VILLA, OOBA.K." 1 "Then ho went down to Toorakt" "In an hour, and back again—hardly." "Then it was not written from Toorakf "No, it was written in one of the Melbourne back-slums." "How do you know!" "Look at the girl who brought It," said Calton, quickly. "A disreputable woman/one far more likely to come from the back slums than • Toorak. As to the paper, three months ago there was a robbery at Toorak, and this is some of the paper that was stolen by the thieves." • Madge said nothing, but her sparkling eyes and nervous trembling of the hands showed her excitement. • "I will see a detective this evening," said Calton, exultingly, "flnd out where this letter came from and go and see who wrote it. We'll save him yet," he said, placing the precious letter carefully in his pocketbook. "You think that you will be able to flnd the woman who wrote that?" "Hum," said the lawyer, looking thoughtful, "she may be dead, as the letter says she is in a dying condition. However, if I can find the woman who delivered the letter at the club, and who waited for Fitzgerald at the corner of Bourke and Russell streets, that will be sufficient. All 1 want to prove is that he was not in tho hansom cab with Whyte." "And do you think you can do that}" "Depends upon this letter," said Calton, enigmatically tapping his pocketbook with his finger. "I'll tell you to-morrow." Shortly afterward they left the house, and when Calton put Madge safely into the St. Kilda train her heart felt lighter than it had done since Fitzgerald's arrest. Kllslpj ''but you ain't the pope to be.infalll* ble,* , . "And what grounds have yon for saying, he's not tho right man?* demanded Gorby. Kilsip smiled and stole softly across the room like a cat. "I'm not going .to tell you all I know; but you ain't so safe nor clever as you think," and with another irritating smile he went out. Mr. Gorby started after him in indignant surprise. The fact is, Kilsip had believed firmly th,at Fitzgerald Was the right man, but a doubt having been put into his mind by Calton, he thought he would irritate Gorby by these insinuations, though he himself knew nothing that could justify them. "He's a cat and a snake," said Gorby to- himself, when the door had closed on his brother detective; "but It's only brag; there isn't a' link missing In tho chain of evidence against Fitzgerald, so I defy him to do his- worst,'" HER DAY. CHAPTER XIV. ' ANOTHER RICHMOND IN THH STELD. There is an old adage that "like draws to like," and the antithesis of this would probably be that unlike keeps as far away from unlike as it possibly can. Sometimes, however, Fate, who seems to take a malignant pleasure in worrying humanity, throws them together, and the result is an eternal conflict between the uncongenial elements. Mr. Gorby was a very clever detective, and got on well with every one with the exception of Kilsip. The latter, on; the other hand, was equally as clever in his own way, and was a favorite with every one but Gorby. One was fire and the other water, so when they came together there was sure to be trouble. Kilsip, in his outward appearance, was quite different from Gorby, being tall and slender, whereas the other was short and stout. Kilsip was dark and clever looking, Gorby was not, his faco wearing a complacent and satisfied smile, which one would not expect to flnd on the features of a man.who was looked upon as a cJevcr detective. But it was this very It lacked but a few minutes until midnight, she knew, and she arose to go back "You muatu't ask roe for a kiss. You really mustn't, dear; Just give me time," she murmured, "for, You know it's now leap year." LEAP YEAR RHYMES. THE WAY OF A BASHFUL TOUTII. He was a very baalil'nl youth, Who always wits afraid; So when ho called ou New Year's cvc, He simply staid and staid; And waited till tho hands new round The clock upon tho shelf; And when the midnight hour was reached She did the rest herself. THE PROPER THING FOR LEAP YEAR. She asked him if lie would be hers; Ho laughed a loud, ha! ha! And then ho'blushed and softly cried, "You'd bettor see papa." SHE WAS ALL RIGHT. Ho did not think she cared for him. But when the leap year camo Ho noticed, to his great surprise. She got there o'ust tho same. GOT THERE TOO LATE. On New Year's morn ho quickly rose, And to her house hu rau, To flnd that when ho reached her door At halt past t >velve the night before Sko'd uuked some other man. TA, TA! The spinster mtit, cue leap year morn, A man she he'd most dear, And aaked him if he'd call. Said he, "I cannot come this year," "OH, JOHN!" SHE cniED. to the meeting, so that her absence might not be observed and commented upon at the conclusion of the services, when she heard a man's footfall on the steps outside. Her heart beat quick at first, for Mary had read novels, and she knew that lovers sometimes came to their sweethearts thus; but this was not the fearless tread of a hero. It was stealthy, so stealthy that if her ear had not been accustomed to every noise about the familiar old building she might not have noted it. It was a burglar, she was certain, after that first heart thump, for it was known the communion plate was of silver and worth at least enough to tempt a rural robber, and everybody knew the strong box of the chapel was a strong box only in name. She was frightened nearly out of her tenses, but enough remained to warn her that her only safety lay in hiding behind th,e organ and giving the thief the right of way to everything in his path. Slowly, she heard that dreadful step •lipping along the aisle,-creakiDg as|| * - • "*,*! smile that was Mr. Gorby's 'greatest aid In getting information, as people were more ready to tell a kindly and apparently simple man like him all they knew than a sharp looking fellow like Kilsip, whose ears and eyes seemed always on the alert. They each had thoir followers and admirers, but both men cordially detested one another, seldom meeting without a quarrel. When Gorby, therefore, had the hansom cab murder case put into bis hands, the soul of Kilsip was smitten with envy, and when Fitzgerald was arrested, and all the evidence collected by Gorby seemed to point so con- clusi vely to bis guilt, Kilsip writhed in secret over the triumph of his enemy. Though he would only have been too glad to have said Gorby had got hold of the wrong man, yet the evidence was so conclusive that such a thought had never entered bis head until he received a note from Mr. Calton, asking him to call at his office that evening at 8 o'clock, with reference to the hansom cab murder. Kilsip knew that Calton was coun» Eel for tho prisoner, and instantly guessed that a clew had been discovered, which he was wanted to follow up, and which might prove the prisoner's innocence. Full of this idea, be had determined to devote himself, heart and soul, to whatever Calton wanted him to do, and if he only could prove Gorby wrong, what a triumph it would bo. He was so pleased with the possibility of such a thing that, accidentally meeting bis rival, he asked him to have a glass. As such a tiling had not occurred before, Gorby was somewhat suspicious of such sudden hospitality, but as he flattered himself that he was more than a match for Kilsip, both mentally and physically, tio accepted tho invitation. "All I" said Kilsip, in his soft, low voice, rubbing his lean, white bands together, as they sat over their drinks; "you are a lucky man to have laid your bands on that hausom cab murderer so quickly." Yes; 1 flatter myself 1 did manage it I pretty well," said Gorby, lighting his pipe. H "I had no idea that it would be so simple— though, mind you, it required a lot of thought before 1 got a proper start." "1 suppose you're pretty sure he's the man you want?" pursued lyilsip, softly, with e> HAPPY MAN brilliant flash of his black eyes. Tls leap year, and f rom'morn till night "Pretty sure, indeed f retorted Mr. Gorby, We hear him gladly sing; | scornfully, "there ain't no pretty mire about For when ho said he'd marry her She bought herself the ring. OUT OF DAXGEB. He feels quite safe vvhculeap year comes, For time has so abused him That all the girls he's ever known Have long ere this refused him. TEMPTING FATE. it I'd take ray Bible oath ho's the man. He and Whyte hated one another. He says to Wliyto, 'I'll kill you if I've got to do it iu the open street He meets Whyte drunk, a fact which he acknowledges himself; he clears out, and the cabman swears Li> comes back; then he gets into the cab with a living man, and when ho conies out leaves a dead one; he drives to East Melbourne and gets into the house at a time which bis landlady can prove —just the tune that cab would take to 4rive from the grammar school on the St. Kilda road. If you ain't a fool, Kilsip, you'll see aa there's no doubt about it* "It looks oil square enough," said Kilsip, who wondered what evidence Caltou could have found to contradict such a plain statement "And what's his defense?" "Mr. Calton is the only man as knows that," answered Gorby, finishing his driok; "but, clever and all as be is, be cant put anything ia that can go against my evidence," "Don't yp« be too-cure of that,« fM$iSPe<J KJJsip, whose SWl was devoured wijft "Ohi b« | am, •"Aht" said Kilsip, in his soft, low voice. At 8 o'clock on that night the soft footed and soft voiced detective presented himself at Gallon's office, and found the lawyer impatiently waiting for him. Kilsip closed the door softly, and then taking a seat opposite to Calton waited for him to speak. The law*- yer, however, first handed him a cigar, and then producing a bottle of whisky and two- glasses from some mysterious recess he filled- one and pushed it toward the detective. Kil- sip accepted these little attentions with the- utmost gravity, yet they were not without their effect on him, as the keen eyed lawyer saw. Calton was a great believer in diplomacy, and he practiced what he preached, and knowing .that Kilsip had that feline natiuro which likes to bo stroked and made much of, he paid him these little attentions, which bo knew would make the detective willing to do everything in his power to help him. Calton also knew the dislike that Kilsip entertained for Gorby, and so, by dexterous management, he calculated upon twisting him, clever as he was, round his finger, and as subsequent events showed, he had not rttcn- oned wrongly. Having thus got *?tet & sympathetic frame of, mind and in a htxi«.'r to bend his best energies t.o the woifA. he wanted him to do, Calton sta-ted tho< sation. "1 suppose," ho said, leaning b»«k i chair and watching the wreatbn of smoke curling from hiscignr, M I »uppos« know all the ins and outs of tbe i>«.n««ir • murderf "I should rather think so," w>Jd Kilrfp,•< a cnriou* light in his queer eye. "Why. Gorby does nothing but brag about tt »na his smartness in catching tne «upposorl oi"«-- dcrerl" "AViaresdfl Calton, leaning forward, and putting his arms on the table. "Supposed murderer. Eh I Does that mean that he hasn't been convicted by a jury, or do you think Fitzgerald is innocent?" Kilsip stared hard at the lawyer, in a vague kind of way, slowly rubbing his hands together. "Well," he said at length, in a deliberate manner, "before 1 got your note I was con- vimied Gorby had got hold of the right man, but when i heard that you wanted to see me, and knowing you are defending the prisoner, I guessed* that you must have found something in his favor which you want me to look after." "lUghtr said Calton, laconically. "As Mr. Fitzgerald said he 1 met Whytie at the corner and hailed the cab"— went on the detective. "How do you know that?" interrupted Cal- • ton, sharply. "Gorby told me." "How the devil did he flnd out?" cried tho lawyer, with genuine surprise. "Because he is always poking and prying about," said Kilsip, forgetting, in his indignation, that such poking and prying formed part of detective business. "But, at any rats," be vrent on quirkly, "if Mr. Fitzgerald ~~ did leave Mr. Whytu, tho only chonoe hete got of proving his innocence is that be did not come back, as the cabman alleged." •*Thon, I suppose, you think that Fitzgerald will prove an alibi?" said Calton, "Well, sir," answered Kilsip, modestly, "of course you know more about the cose than I do, but that is the only defense I can see he can make." "Well, he's not going to put in such a defense," "Then he must bo guilty," said Kilsip, promptly. . "Not necessarily," returned the barrister, dryly. "But if he wants to save his neck, heTli have to prove an alibi," persisted the other. . "That's <iiet where the point isr answered] Calton. '• e doesn't want to save his neck," Kilsip, looking rather bewildered, took a sip of wtoe, and waited to hear wbafe Mr, Calton had to say on the subject. "The tttct is," said Calton, lighting a frees cigar, "he's got some extraordinary idea ii* his head about keeping where he was on that night a secret." "I understand," said KUsrp, gravely nod-, ding his head. "Women?" "Nothing of the sort," retorted Carjtoiu hastily. "That's what I thought at first,! but I was wrong; he went to see a dying wo»! mauwho wspted to tell him something" "What uwmt?" "That's just what I can't tell yon," ao»| swered Calton quickly. "It must Jjavej been something important, for she sent forj him ia great haste—and-he was by her bedJ gys between tbe hours of I and 3 pa, '.3^M day morning-" **Then he did not return to the cab? 1 "No, he did not; he went to keep his i polntwent, but, for some reason or "~ ?__•**. ^n.11 «rVm»«rt 4-Vsio Av\v\nitifavian4i She wro,t|» upon her New Year's c$^e» "A ©lad New Year to You." < ?, 4 with. f»war4j tell where this appointment) vas. %| went to his rooms today and found this talf- biirnt letter, asking him to come." (Mton handed the letter to Kjlaft^ pl^d it on (he table and examined

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