The Algona Republican from Algona, Iowa on May 20, 1896 · Page 7
Get access to this page with a Free Trial
Click to view larger version

The Algona Republican from Algona, Iowa · Page 7

Publication:
Location:
Algona, Iowa
Issue Date:
Wednesday, May 20, 1896
Page:
Page 7
Cancel
Start Free Trial

Page 7 article text (OCR)

wx "Surely! Why not?" "Well," the vhknuc drawled, his manner BU?!I ns to bring the blood to Mme. de Ptivtumes' check, "it depends on the person who—to use your phrase, M. le Coadjuteur—spirited her hither." "And thnt," nuulamu herself retorted, raising her head, while her'voice quivered with indignation and a.np'er, "was the abbess of! the UrsuMnes. 1'our suspicions are base, worthy of j r on and unworthy of me, M.leVidnioe! Diane!" she continued, slinrply, taking her sister's arm, and casting 1 a disdainful glance at Kezcrs, "let us go. I want to be with my husband. I am stifled in this room." "We are going, little one," Diane murmured, reassuringly. Cut I noticed thnt the speaker's animation, which had been ns a soul to her beauty When she entered the room, was gone. A stronge stillness—was it fear of tIFe vidamc?—had taken its place. "The abbess of the Ursulines?" Be- zers continued, thoughtfully. "She. brought you here, did she?" There was surprise, genuine surprise, in his voice. "A good soul, and, I think 1 have heard, a friend of yours. Umph!"* "A very dear friend," madaine answered, stiffly. "Now, Diane!" "A dear friend! And she spirited you hither yesterday!" commented the vidame, with the air of one solving an anagram. "And Mirepoix detained yon; respectable Mirepoix, who is said to have a well-filled stocking under his pallet, nnd stands well with the bour-. geoisie. He is in the plot. Then at a very late hour, your affectionate sister, find my good friend the coadjutor, enter to save you. From what?" No one spoke. The priest looked down, his cheek livid with anger. "From what?" Ep/.ers continued, with grim playfulness. "There is the mystery. From the clutches of this profligate Mirepoix, I suppose. From the dnngerous Mirepoix. Upon ray honor," with a sudden ring of resolution in his tone, "I think you are safer here; I think you had better stay where you ore,, madamc, until morning! And risk Mirepoix 1" "Oh, no! no!" miidame cried, vehemently. "Oh, yes! yes!" he replied. "Whatdo you say, coadjutor? Do you not think so?" The priest looked down sullenly. His .voice shook as he murmured, in ansvver: "Madame will please herself. She has a character, M. le Vidame. Dut if she prefer to stay here—we'll!" "Oh, she has a character, has she?" rejoined the giant, his eyes twinkling With evil mirth, "and she should go home with you, and my old friend, Mme. d'O, to saro it! That is it. is it? No. no," he continued, when he had had his silent laugh out, "Mine, de Pavannes will do very very well here—very well here until morning. We have work to do. Come. Let us go and do it." "Do you mean it'. 1 " said the priest, starting- and Icokinfv up with a subtle challenge—almost u threat—in his tone. "Yes, I do." Their eyes met; and seeing their looks, I. chuckled, nudging Croisette. No fear of £hera discovering us now. I recalled the old proverb which says that when thieves fall out, honest men como liy their own, and speculated on the chance of the priest freeing us once for all from M. de Bezers. But the two were ill-matched. The vidnme could have taken up the other with one hand and dashed his head on the floor. And it did not end there. I doubt if in 'craft the priest was his equn 1. Behind a frank brutality Bezera —unless his reputation belied him—concealed an Italian .intellect. Under a cynical recklessness he veiled a rare cunning and a constant suspicion; enjoying in that respect a combination of apparently opposing qualities, which I have known no other man to possess in an equal degree, un.less it might be his late majesty,'Henry the Great. A child would linve suspected the priest; a veteran might have been taken in by the vidame, And indeed the priest's eyes presently sank. "Our bargain is to go for nothing?" he muttered, sullenly, "I know of no bargain," quoth the vidame. "And I have no time to lose, splitting hairs here. Set it down to what.you like. Ray it is a whim of mine, p. fuel, n i-apnc-e. Only understand that Mme. C!P i'avaniios stays. \Vt>fr>. And," he- addi'd thin. ;ts u stuUU-n thought seemed to strike him. "though 1 would not willingly use compulsion to n, lady,' J think Mme. d'O had better cause too." "You speak umsU > rfull.y 1 " the priest jbiUd. with a sneer, forgetting the tone he liiid himself usi'd a few mmutes before to .Mirepoix. ••.I ust sif. 1 have -10 horsemen over the \\a.v." was the dry answer. "For the piomeut. I am master of the legions, Coadjutor." "That ia true," Mme. d'O earn; so softly that J started. She had scarcely spoken since Bezers' entrance. As she spoHp now, she shook back the hood from, her face and disclosed the chestnut hair clinging about her temples- deep blots of color oo the abnormal >ylMtene$s of her skin. "That is true, if. de- Beyers," she said. "You hjwe the legions.. YQW h#ye the power. But you l $9* W|» J* ? I, tWnJf, against m old friend. You will not do us this hurt vwhen 1— But listen." He would not. In the very middle of her appeal he cut her short—brute that he was! "No, madamc!" he burst out violently, disregarding the beautiful face, the supplicating glance that might have moved a stone, "that is just what 1 will not do. 1 will not listen! We know one another. Is not that enough?" She looked at him fixedly. He returned her gaze, not smiling now, but eyeing her with a curious watchfulness. And after a long pause she turned from him. "Very well," she said softly, and drew a deep, quivering breath, the sound of which reached us. "Then let us go," And without—strangest thing of all—bestowing a word or look on her sister, who was weeping bitterly in a chair, she turned to the door and led the way out, a shrug of her shoulders the last thing I marked. The poor lady heard her departing Step, however, and sprang up. It dawned upon her that she was being deserted. "Diane! Diane!" she cried distractedly—and 1 had to put my hand on' Croisette to keep him quiet, there was such fear and pain in her tone— "I will go! 1 will not be left behind in this dreadful place! Do you hear? Come back to me, Diane!" It made my blood run wildly. But Diane did not come back. Strange! Ami Boxers too was unmoved. He stood between the poor woman and the door, and . by a gesture bid Mirepoix and the priest pass out before him,. "Madame," he said—nnd his voice, stern and hard as ever, expressed no jot of compassion for her, rather such an impatient contempt as a puling child might elicit—"you are safe here. And here you will stop! Weep if you please." he added cynically, "you will have fewer tears to shed to-morrow." Ills last, words—they certainly were odd ones—arrested her attention. She checked her sobs, being frightened, 1 thinli. and looked up at him. Perhaps he had spoken with this in view, for while she still stood at ga/.c, her hands pressed to her bosom, he slipped quickly out nnd closed the door behind him. I heard a muttering for an instant outside, and then the tramp of feet descending the stairs. They were gone, and we were still undiscovered. - ' For madame, she had clean forgotten our presence—of that. 1 am sure—and the chance of escnpe we might afford. On finding herself alnne she gazed a short time in alarmed silence at the door; and then ran to the window and peered out, still trembling, terrified, silent. So she? remained awhile. She had not noticed that Bezers on going out had omitted to Jock the door behind him. I had. But 1 was unwilling to move hastily. Some one might return to see to it before the vidame left the house. And, besides, the door was not over strong, and if locked would be no obstacle to the three of us when we had only Mirepoix to deal with. So I kept the others where they-were by a nudge and a pinch, and held my breath a moment strain'ng my ears to catch the closing of the door below. 1 did not hear that. But 1 did catch a sound that otherwise might have escaped me, but which now riveted my eyes to tha door of our room. Some one in the silence, which followed "You are safe bore, and bera you will stop," the trampling on the stairs, had cautiously laid a hand on the latch. The light in the room was dim, Mirepoix had taken one of the candles with him, and the other wanted snuffing. I could not see whether the latch moved; whether or not it was rising. But watching intently, I made out that the door was being opened—slowly, noiselessly. J saw sopie one enter—a furtive gliding 1 shadow. For a mopient 1 felt nervous—then J recognised th 1 ? dark, hooded figure, it was only Mme, d'O. Brave woman: She had evaded the vWame and slipped to the rescue. Ha, ha! We would defeat tho vidame yet! Things were going 1 better! Put; then, something 1 in her manner-^ as she stood holding the door and peering into the room—something in her bearing 1 startled and frightened me. As she came forward her movements were so stealthy that hep footsteps made no sound. Her dork shadow, moving ahead of her across the floor, was pot mor$ silent than she. An undefined desire to ma%e a noise, to give the alarm, seized me. Half way aeros§ the floor she stopped to listen, an.d, looked aro'osd, stoi-tjed hefftelf, i thifik, by the Rilonce. She could dot see her sletef, whosii figure wiis blurred by the outlines of the curtain; and no doubt she was puzzled to think what had become of her. The suspense which I felt, but did not mi* clerstand, was so great that at last 1 moved, and the bed creaked. In a moment her face was turned our way, and she glided forwards, her features still hidden by the hood of her cloak. She was close to us now, bending over us. She raised her hand to her head—to shade her eyes, ns she looked more closely, I supposed, and I was wondering whether she saw us— whether she took the shapelcssnoss in the shadow of the curtain for her sister, or could not make it out—I was thinking how we could bast apprise her of our presence without, alarming her — when Croisette dashed my thoughts to the winds! CroiKette, with a tremendous whoop and a crash, bounded over me on to the floor! She uttered a gasping cry—a cry of intense, awful fear. I have the sound in my ears even now. With that she staggered back, clutching the air. I heard the metallic clang and ring oi something falling on the floor. 1 heard an answering cry of alarm from the window; and then Mme. de Pa- vannes ran forward nnd caught her in her arms, It was strange to find the room lately so silent become at once alive with whispering forms, as we came hastily to light. I cursed Croisette for his •folly, and was immeasurably angry with him, but I had no time to waste words on him then. I hurried to the door to guard it. I oprtied it a hand's breath and listened.' All was quiet below; the house still. I took the key out of the lock and put it in my pocket and went back. Marie and Croisette were standing a little apart from Mme. de Pavannes, who, hanging over her sister, was by turns bathing her face and explaining our presence. In a very few minutes Mme. d'O seemed to recover, and sat up. The first shock of deadly terror had passed, but she was still pale. She still trembled and shrank from meeting our eyes, though I saw her, when our attention was apparently directed clse- whdre, glance at one and another of us with a strange intentnoss, a shuddering' curiosity. ]Yo wonder, I thought. She must have had a terrible fright.—one that might have killed a more timid woman! "What on'earth did you do that for?" I asked Croisette, presantly, my anger certainly not decreasing the more I looked at her beautiful face. "You might have killed her!" In charity I supposed his nerves had failed him, for he could not even now give me a straightforward answer. His only reply was: "Let us get away from this horrible house!" and this he kept repeating, with a shudder, as he moved restlessly to nnd fro. "With all my heart!" I answered, looking at him with some contempt. "That is exactly what we are going to do!" But all the same his words reminded me of something which in the excitement of the scene I had tnomentarilj 1 forgotten, nnd that was our duty. Pa- varmes must be saved, though not for Kit; rather to answer to us for his sins., But he must be saved! And now that the road was open, every minute lost was reproach to us. "Yes," I added, roughly, my thoughts turned into a more rugged channel, "you are right. This is no time for nursing. We must be going. Mme. de Pavannes," I • went on, addressing myself to her, "you know the way home from here— to your house?" "Oh, yes!" she cried. "That is well," 1 answered. "Then we will start. Your sister is sufficiently recovered now, I think. And we wil! not risk any further delay." I did not tell her of her husband's danger, or that we suspected him of wronging her, and being, in fact, the cause of her detention. I wanted her services as a guide. That was the main point, though I was glad to be able to put her in a place of safety at the same time that we fulfilled our own mission. She rose eagerly. "You are sure thnt we can get out?" she said. "Sure," 1 replied, with a brevity worthy of Bezers himself. . And I was right. We trooped downstairs, making as little noise as possible; with the result that Mirepoix only took the alarm, and oame upon us when we were at the outer door, bungling with the lock. Then I made short work of him, checking his scared words of remonstrance by flashing my dagger before his eyes. I induced him in the same fashion—he was fairly taken by surprise— to undo the fastenings himself; and so, bidding him follow us at his peril, we slipped out one by one, We softly closed the door behind us. Audio! we were at last free—free and in the streets of Paris, with the cool night air fanning our brows, A church hard by tolled the ho\ir of two; and the strokes were echoed, before we had gone many steps along the ill- paved way, by the solemn tones of the bell of Notre Dame. We were free and in the streets, with a guide who knew the way. If Bezers had not gone straight from us to his vengeance, we might thwart him yet. J strode along quickly, Mme. d'O by my side, the others a little way in front, Here and there an oil lamp, swinging front a pulley in the middle of the road, enabled us to avoid some obstacles more foul than usual, or to leap over a pool which had formed in the kennel. Even, in my excitement, my country-bred senses rebelled against the sights, and smells, the noisome air and oppressive closeness of the streets. The tovj'ii was quiet, and very dark vyhere the smoky lamps were not hang- 'ing. Yet I wondered if it ever slept, for more than once, we had to stand jRside to give passage tp a party of men, hurrying 1 along with Ira&s and arms. the end of our walk. I was surprised by the flashing' of bright lights in n t'onrtyard. the door of which stood half ope'i to right or left. Once 1 saw the glow of torches reflect v>.\ ruddily in the windows of a tall <iml splendid man- sion.a little withdrawn from the street. The soiircs of the light was in the forecourt, hidden from us by a low wall, but I caught the murmur of voices and stir of many feet. Once a gate was stealthily opened nnd two armed men looked out, the act and their manner of doing it, reminded me on the instant of those who had peeped out to inspect, UH sonic hours before in Bezers' house. And once, nay twice, in the mouth of a narrow alley I discerned a knot of men standing motionless in the gloom. There was an air of mystery abroad, a feeling as of solemn stir find preparation going on under cover of the darkness-, which awed and un- iK-rvt-d me. r.ut I said nothing of this, and Mme. d'O was equally silent. Like most countrymen I was ready to believe in any exaggeration of the city's late hours, the Tnore as she made no remark. Flashing my dagi^r before his eyes. I supposed—shaking off the momentary impression—that what I saw was innocent and normal. Besides, I was thinking what I should say to Pavannes when I saw him—in what terms I should warn him of his peril, nnd cast his perfidy in his teeth. We had hurried along in this way— and in absolute silence,.save when some obstacle or pitfall drew from us an exclamation—for about n quarter of a mile, when my companion, turiiinginto a slightly wider street, slackened her spend, and indicated by s. gesture that we had arrived. A lamp hung over the porch, to which she pointed, and showed the small side gate half opened. We were close behind tin: other three now. I saw Croisette sloop to enter, and as quickly fall back a pace. Why? In a moment if. flashed across my mind that we were too Kite—that the vidame had been before us. And yet how quiet it all was. Then I breathed freely again. I saw that Croisette had only stepped Wack to avoid some one who was coming out —the coadjutor, in fact. The moment the 1 entrance was clear, the lad shot in, and the others after him, the priest taking no notice of them, nor they of him. \ I was for going in, too, when 1 felt Mme. d'O's hand tighten suddenly on my arm, and then fall from it. Apprised of something by tins, I glanced at the priest's face, catching sight of it by chance just as his eyes met hers. His face was while—nay, it was ugly with disappointment nii'l rage, bitter, snarling rage, that was hardly hitman. He grasped her by the arm rougflly and twisted her round without ceremony, .«o as to draw her a few paces aside; yet not, so far thai: I could not hear what they said. "He IP not here!" he hissed. "Do you understand? He crossed the river to the Faubourg St. Germain at nightfall—searching for her. And he has not come back! He is oi; the other side of the water, and midnight has struck this hour past!" She stood silent for a moment, as if she had received a blow—silent and dismayed. Something serious hod happened. I could see that. "He cannot recross the river now?" she said, after a time. "The gates—" "Shut!" he replied, briefly. 'The keys are at the Louvre." "And the boats are on this side?" "Every boat!" he answered, striking his one hand ori the other with violence, "Every boat! No one mny cross until it is over." "And the Faubourg St. Germnin?" she said, in a lower voice. "There will be nothing done there, Nothing!" CHAPTER VII, A YOUNG KNIGHT-ERRANT. I would gladly have left the two together, and gone straight into the house, 1 was eager now to discharge the errnnd on which I had come so far; and apart from this I had no liking for the priest or wish to overhear his talk, His anger, however, was so patent, and the rudeness with which he treated Mme. d'O so pronounced that I felt I could not leave her with him unless she should dismiss me. So I stood patiently , enough — and awkwardly enough, too, I daresay^—by the door, while they talked on in subdued tones. Nevertheless, I felt heartily glad when at length, the discussion ending, madam<i came back to me. I offered her my arm to help her over the wooden foot of the side gate. She laid her hand on it, hut she stood still. "tyl, de Caylus," she said; and at that stopped. Naturally I looked at her, and pur eyes met, Hers brown, and beautiful, shining in the light of the lamp overhead, looked into mine. Her lips, were, half parted, and one fair tress of hair had escaped from her hood. "M, 'de Caylus, will you do me a favor?" she resumed, softly, "a favor for which I shall always he grateful?" I'sighed. "Madame," I said, earmsstr ly, foy. I felt .the solemnity of the oc- "{"gwear that in ten minutes, if the 1 will I now have in hand be finished. | my life to your service, j For the present^— " "Well, for HIP present? Ihit it is , tho present 1 want, Master Di^crf- ' tion." i ".I must Hf« M. do Pa\:innt'sl I t.m pledged to it," 1 «jnculnt.:!d. i "To see M. de Pavannes?" | "Yes." I I was conscious that she was looking 1 at me with eyes of douot, al:nosfc of suspicion. "Why? ,Why?" she nsked, with evident surprise. "You 3;nve restored— and nearly frightened me to death in doing it. — his wife to her home; what more do you vumt with him. most valiant knight-errant?" "I must see him," 1 said, firmly. I would have told her all and been thankful, but the priest was within hearing — or barely out of it; and I had recn too much pass between him and Be/era to be willing to say anything before him. "You must see M. de Pavannes?" she repeated, gazing 1 at me. "I must," I replied, with decision. "Then you shall. That is exactly what I am going to help you to do," she exclaimed. "He is not here. That Js what is the matter. Ho went out at nightfall seeking news of his wife, and crossed the river, the coadjutor says, to the Faubourg St. Germain. Nov.' it, is of the utmost importance that he should return before moruiny — return here." "But is ho not here?" 1 said, finding all my calculations at fault. "You are sure of it, madamc?" "Quite sure," she answered, rapidly. "Your brothers will have by this time discovered the fact. Mow, M. de Caylus, Pavannes must be brought here before morning, -not only for his wife's sake — though she will be wild with anxiety — but also — " "I know," I said, eagerly, interrupting her, "for his own, too! There is a danger threatening him." She fumed swiftly, as if startled, and 1 turned, and we looked at the priest. I thought we understood one another. "There is," she answered, softly, "and I would save him from that danger; but he will only be safe, as I happen to know, here! Here, you understand! He must be brought here before daybreak, M. de Caylus. He must! He must!" she exclaimed, her beautiful features hardening with the earnestness of her feelings. "And the coadjutor cannot gj. I cannot go. There is only one man who can save him, and that is yourself. There is, above all, not a moment to be lost." My thoughts were in a whirl. Even as she spoke sheToegan to walk back the way wo had come, her hand on my arm; and I, doubtful and in a confused way unwilling, went with her. I did not clearly understand tho position. 1 would have wished to go in nnd confer with Marie nnd Croisette; but the juncture had occurred so quickly, and it might be that time was as valuable as she said, and — well, it was hard for me, a lad, to refuse her anything when she looked at me with .appeal in her ej'es. I did manage to stammer: "But I do not know Paris. I could not find my way, I am afraid, and it is night, madame." She released my arm and stopped. "Xight!" she cried, with a scornful ring in her voice. "Night! I thought you were a man, not a boy! You are afraid!" "Afraid," I said, hotly; "we Caylus' are never afraid." "Then I can tell you the way, if that be your only difficulty. We turn here. Now, come in with me a moment," she continued, "and I will give you something you will need— and your directions." She had stopped at the door of a tall, narrow house, standing between larger ones in a street which appeared to me to be more airy and important than any I had yet seen. As she spoke, she rang the bell once, twice, thrice. The silvery v tinkle had scarcely died away the third time before the door opened silently; 1 saw no one, but she drew me into a narrow hall or passage. A taper in an embossed holder was burning on a chest. She took it up, and, telling me to follow her, led the way lightly up the stairs, and into a room, half parlor, half bedroom — such a room as I had never seen before. It was richly hung from ceiling 1 to floor with blue silk, and lighted by the soft rays of lamps shaded by Venetian globes of delicate hues. The scent of cedarwood was in the air, and on the hearth in a velvet tray were some tiny puppies. A dainty disorder reigned everywhere. On one table a jewel cose stood open, on another lay some lace garments, two or three masks and a fan. A gemmed riding whip and a silver-hilted poniard hung on the same peg. And, strangest of all, huddled away behind the door, I espied a plain, block-sheathed sword and a man's gauntlets. , (Continued next week.) Sewing machines and organs very cheap at J. B. WinkePs. 32-35 R. PI. Woodward Company, Baltimore, Md., announce a new hook, "Story or Spain and Cuba." This book is written by Mr. Nathan C. Green, the well-known author and former resident of Cuba. It is beautifully illustrated with nearly 100 engravings and is sold by subscription. Take the best pill. Dr. Sawyer's LUtle Wide Awake fills are really wide awake and very ulce to carry in the pocket, aud easy to take. Sold by Frank W- Pingley. Every disease lias Its remedy. For indigestion and biliousness, l)r. Sawyer's Little Wide Awake Pills have no equal. They assist nature. Sold by Frank Dingley. "" ' ~ * There is nothing so satisfactory as Dr. Sawyer's Little Wide Awake pills for S,ick Read- ache, Indigestion and Biliousness. Tliey do uofc gripe. Sold by Eranlf W. Wugley. Get a bottle of Dr. Sawyer's Little 4\yafee Pills and ypu will be relieved of temble bead§ehe and biliousn easy tp. t^e. 844 by M. I*. ItAGOAttO. G. V, Haggard & Peek* Successors to JONES & SMITH. AUSTltACTS, HEAL COLLECTIONS. ALGOKA, - --A, B. Clarke & Co., FAliM LOAXN. csii- AljronuStii.ro fiank. A LOON A, OKO. K. CT/AHKE. (iriA.^. A. L'OH KMitJR Clarice vfe Cohenour, ATTOKXJEl'S AT LAW. AT.GONA, IOWA. Oeo. II. Cloud, or to-W. B. Qimrton) Ey AXD COVX8ELOR AT LAW. A l.t.OMA. IOWA. OIHco over Kossuth County Stiito Bank. Sullivan & McMa-hon, ATTUltXJSYS AT LA]V. U/Hlec 1 IJIock. A :,<;<»• A, IOWA. E. V. S wetting, J TTOH.NKY AT LA If, Money to lo;m. ,\ I.tiONA, IOWA. .). 1.. I50NA11. 1!. U. FELLOWS. Bojiar & Fellows, ATTORNEYS AT LAW. < ulleuMuns will receive prompt aUc'iitlon. Rooms 8 and !). Alfonn Stale Jiank Bl'dg 1 . Branch ollico at Wesley. Iowa. A IX5OXA. IOWA. Daiison & Butler, L.iW, LO.WS A.YD LANDS. Collections a specialty. Ofllue in Gardner Cowles' now building 1 . ALGOXA, IOWA. Welt Miller. ATTORNED AND COUNSELOR AT LAV. Collections made. All business promptly WK8LKV - IOWA. S. S. Sessions, ATTORNEY AT LAW. Loans anil Insurance. Special attention given to collections jf all kinds. Over Ohrischilies' Store. AI,«ONA,IA. L. K. Garfieltl, M. D., PI1YSIC1AX AXD SURGEON, State street. AtGONA, IOAVA. M. J. Keiiefick, M. D., Over Taylor's Store. AtGOXA, - - IOWA Dr. H. C. McCoy, PHYSICIAN AXl) SURGEON, Algoua, Iowa. Office with Dr. Garflcld. State street. Residence McGregor street F. L. Tribon, HOMEOPATHW PHYSICIAN AND SURGEON. Office nnd residence: New Boston Block, i, Iowa. C. B. Paul, M. D., PHYSICIAN AND SURGEON, Saturdays and Mondays from 1 to 4:3" p. m., devoted to examinations of eyes and fitting of glasses. Office over Farmers' and Traders' Savings Bank. RAIfCKOXT. ICMVA. Dr. L. A. Sheetz, DRUGGIST AND STATIONER. Prescriptions filled. Deals In Paints, Oils, Books. Perfumeries, Etc. Oor. State and Thorizjgton. AI/GOWA, IA. DENTIST. A. Li. Hist, D. D, S,, T.ocal anaesthetic for deadening' pain in gums when extracting teeth. ALGONA, IOWA, E. S, Glasier, D. D, S,, DENTAL ROOMS. Over the Algrona State Bank. Special attention given to saving teeth. The best of modern anaesthetics used to make operations as painless as possible, A, IOWA. E. S3. ISayprs, JO. V' M, f VETERINARY PSYSIOI4N vUY-W SURGEON, Hospital uccoraniodations. Office west of Browjx's Livery Stable. State street. ^ l^y> • y. OSEWALL, PAINT Butter Aft, Water Iu*$, » i, "V , >.' ,' t ,-^'Srf * , «i~ -f-J «6%. 1 a

Get full access with a Free Trial

Start Free Trial

What members have found on this page