Grand Rapids Herald-Review Newspaper, May 23, 1896, Page 6

CHAPTER HL “Unknown, did you say?” asked the doctor, somewhat disconcerted by the professor's aside. “Well, yes,” responded Howkins, “ those that found it didn’t know who "tw “Wasn't there anything about the clothing to identify him? Any papers in the pocket, or any marks upon the person?” “You ask too many questions for me, doctor. We only heard the rumor as we was Starting off, but as_ for clothing I heard say that the body was mostly naked.” “Where was it found?’ asked Prof. Drummond. Near the beginning of the flume to Waldo’s mill, I heard, but I really know anything about it. Think don’t it °} ur friend Starkweather, profess- “f can’t hold one opinion or an- other,” he replied. “You see, Stark- weather and I were at breakfast—” and he proceeded to tell the story of the young man’s death and disappear- ance with all the clearness and cir- cumstantial:ty with which he had dis- © od the matter with the doctor. Hawkins and Mr. Philbrick listened .”’ concluded the professor. s only one way out of it. I ave been mistaken in supposing nn dead, and he recovered suf- y to get away after I came down muy the 1 fi think he fell into the river, sked Hawkins. . Drummond shrugged his shoul- “L cannot say,” he answered, and Dr. Williams noticed how much more self-po! ssed he was now than form- All evidence of the shock to him. What became of my servant?’ asked, the professor after a moment, which Hawkins had been exa his whip handle. Mr. Philbrick w gazing at the mountains miles away beyond the Miniski. “Give it up. She excited.” “What did she say?” “Nothing that you could fasten to. ‘Dropped dead,’ and ‘Prof. Drummond’ and ‘young man’ were about all the words she said, and she didn’t get them in any sort of order. You heard her, Mr. Philbrick,” turning to his gi was powerfully returned Mr. Philbrick, shifting his eyes from the mountains to the landlord. “Oh, yes, but didn’t pay much attention. I believe I heard the words ‘dropped dead’ or something of that kind.” “Seems to be mused Hawkins. “Yes,” assented the professor, “I can’t understand it.” “I should think,” suggested the land- lord, “that you’d want to go down to Waldo’s and s ¢ yourself if the body found is weather. I haven't a doubt, mj ‘The professor turned with a look of an y to Dr. Williams. you think I'd better?” he asked. The young physician flushed. “I don’t see how you can a he answered. “What ot able course is open to us Prof. Drummond bit his lip. “T’ll go down in an hour or so,” he siad. “Will the body be kept at Wal- do’s mill?” “I dare say it will, but if it isn’t you can find it in the village. I presume you'll want to go, won’t you, doctor?” “I suppose a physiclan would be ex- pected to take an interest in the mat- ter,” replied Dr. Williams. “Yes, I'll be down there before long.” “You might get in with us, if you like. Perhaps I could take you both if you didn’t mind crowding.” “Never mind; thanks, Mr. Hawkins,” interposed the professor. “I'll hitch up and take the doctor down with me. I suppose a little delay won't matter as long as the man is dead.” “No, I guess not. Shall I say you're both coming, then? “Yes, if you've a mind to. I'll get ready at once, doctor,” and the profes- sor entered the house. Hawkins did not start back at once. He looked up significantly at the doc- tor, who went down the steps and stood by the wheel of the buggy. “What do you think of it, doctor?’ ked Hawkins. mh responded Dr. Williams, slowly, “the ca has some apparently strange features, but I presume the istyangeness will entirely disappear when we get at the facts.” “Etumph! Do you think he placed the tian on the bed? Perhaps I ought not ty ask it, as you’re his physician, but Mr. Philbrick and I were taik- ing— “Mere speculative gossip, Dr. Will- iams,” in‘errupted Mr. Philbrick, with a suave smile. “We were discussing the possibilities of a mystery without knowing the first thing about the cir- cumstances.” “Well, but you said,” began Hawk- ins when Philbrick again interrupted: “Like others, I jumped at the con- clusion that the body found at the mill was that of the man who had dropped dead at Fairview. I then indulged in a little idle speculation, as a stranger will under such cireumstances. Be- lieve me, I didn’t mean to be taken seriously.” “I’m sure no harni has béen done,” said Dr. Williams. “Your speculation was natural enough, and as far as Iam concerned, I haye nq disposition to conceal anything on the ground of be- ing the family physician. I have not that honor. I was her® by accident soon after the event ocurred, what- ever it was, for I met tite half-crazed servant myself between Shere and the village.” 5 “You speak as if you hi wi some doubt as to what the event wag,” suggested liawkins, discontentedly, “It’s certain the man died, isn’t it?” “Starkweather? No, de@idedly not.” very mysterious,” < me,” respect -~THE-— Professor's Seeret. PPPOE OOO IOI OOOO, © h he had been subjected had left | #)out it.” | of unusual intelligence, and it seems “Then I'll repeat my first question. Do you think the professor put the body of Starkweather on the bed?” “TI see no reason for doubting the pro- fessor’s word.” “Well, by thunder, I do!’ exclaimed Hawkins. “That is, I don’t want to appear suspicious of anything wrong, but I think there’s a heap that’s got to be explained, I do.” “Undoubtedly, if all the curiosity in the country has got to be satisfied,” responded Dr. Williams sharply. But you've no business to get suspicion agoing in the community without something to base it upon.” it going, doctor?’ de- manded the landlord, bridling. “You will be doing it if you indulge in loose talk.” Hawkins looked at the doctor an- nybody’d think, to hear you,” he said, “that you was old enough to be senator.” Dr. Williams was spared the neces- sity of ignoring this quarrelsome re- ark by Mr. Philbrick, who, with a significant smile and side glance to- ward the landlord, said: “I’m inclined to agree with you doc- tor, as to the probability that the mys- terious features of chis uir will pres- ently app I should iike to asa medical man, whether there ay inherent improbabil or impossibility ih the expl tion suggested by Prof. Drummond? “You've doubled up your question a bit,” replied the doctor, smiling grate- fully in return for Philbrick’s saving him from an undignified discussion with the landlord. “That was because I am a layman, I suppose,” returned Philbrick. “Let us say impossibility first.” “No. There is nothin gimpossible “Improbable, then?" , “I don’t like the word. Unusual it is, very, for Prof. Drummond is a man rather add that he should have been mistaken in the symptoms which he thought indicated death. You see, his explanation suggests that Starkweath- cr was cataleptic, or something of that kind, though L ought not to diagnosti- cate a case without more intimate knowledge of it. If, however, Stark- weather were cataleptic, Prof. Drum- mond should have noted the beating of the heart, which he says had ceased. I can’t tell, you see. The professor was naturally agitated, and, altogeth- er, I think it fair to suppose that he erred in thinking Starkweather dead. If the body found in the river is that of Starkweather, it will probably be “Must We Stay Here?” Said Louise, easy on examination of it to establish something better than a speculative theory with regard to his end.” “T hope so, certainly,” said Mr. Phil- brick. “Of course, I have only a pass- ing interest in the matter, but a mys- tery, you know, is so aggravating.” “I hate mysteries,” responded Dr. Williams. “I don’t profess to understand two words of the doctor's fol-de-rol,” re- marked Hawkins with peevish irony, “but I can say that if there’s any mys- tery about a man’s death it belongs to the community to clear it up. That's what I say. Get up, Nancy! And if I was a medical,” he bawled, as the buggy turned around, “I’d see that my wits and education did the com- munity some good in the matter.” Dr. Williams was nettled, for he was too young not to be sensitive, lut when Mr. Philbrick waved his hand | behind Hawkins’ back and opene1 his | mouth in a silent laugh of derision at | the landlord the doctor saw the comic- al side of the ignorant man’s tirade, | and smiled back. When he wept up} the steps the young ladies came from | the dining room to meet him. “You can’t think how nervous I am, doctor,” said Louise. ‘Tell us about | it? The doctor told them substantially | what he had told Mr, Philbvick, and | reiterated his confidence chat all’ the | mysterious features of the vase would presently be cleared away. “In a moment of irresponsibility,” be | said, “Mr. Starkweather probably fell or jumped into the river. A body has been found a mile or so below, and we are going down to see if we can identify it.” “Must we stay here?’ asked Louise. “Are you ill, Miss Willis?’ exclaimed the doctor, suddenly stepping forward and holding out his hands,for it seemed |, as if Amelia were about to faint. “No, no,” she responded, with cvi- dent effort, and the color rushed back to her face; “it is only that the whole thing seems so terrible. That is ail.” Dr. Williams looked appreensive. “I’m half inclined to prescride for you, Miss Willis.” he said, “as I did for the professor.” “Don’t,” she returaed, “I'd rather | not take anything. I wonder if Uncle! Nathan will let us zo wit him?” “Tell me about papa,’ said Louise. “I feared at first,” respondsd the ; doctor, frankly, “that he had suffered | some kind of shock that led to halluc- ination, but I see no evidence of it) now. -He is apparently as sound as I am, mentally.” “Tam so relieved! Ther? he is now.” | The professor drove around the cor- —————— ner In a carryall from tae stable, was at the side of the house. “Papa,” called Louise, “may we xo with you?” “Not to be thought of,” he returned, shortly. “Wait here a minute,” said the dsc- tor in a low voice to the young ladies. He went down the steps and spoke to the professor. “I’m sure you'll pardon a seeming interference, but under the circum- stances I feel bound to advise you pot to leave the ladies here alone. Their nerves are badly shaken. Recall your own agitation and then think of them.” | “What were they talking about?’ asked Professor Drummond. “About your conclusions with refer- ence to Starkweather. They hadn't heard of the body in the river, ycu know.” “Hadn't heard—oh! you thought I meant the girls. I was referring to Hawkins and the other fellow.” | The doctor was surprised and looked it. There was some acidity character- istic of his outspoken disposition in his tone as he responded: : “Hawkins was for seeing an ugly mystery and Mr. Philbrick pooh-pooh- ed his suspicions. That was all. “Suspicious, eh! suspicious of what?’ | “I don’t know,” said Dr. Williams, shortly, I didn’t ask him. I venture Prof, Drummond Looked Long and Earnestly, to assure you that the young ladies ought not to be left alone at home.” Professor Drummond frowned. “They can’t find anything comfort- ing in a morgue,” he said. “No, but they could stay at my mother’s till your return. “Very well. Get your hats, girls, and hurry,” called the professor, ‘The short journey to the village was covered in silence. Professor Drum- mond was wrapped in his thoughts and the young ladies were too sub- sided to say anything. The doctor could not help inferring that they were habitually held in rather severe sub- jection by the professor. He noticed how much more affected, apparently, by the tragedy of the morning Miss Willis was than Louise. Amelia had hardly said a word since the time they had met Betsey. Her face was very pale and her eyes were swollen as with a burden of tears that she held back by a supreme effort of the will. Having left Louise and Amelia at Dr. Williams’ home, the professor drove on to the village. There was no need to inquire where the body of the drowned man was, for he was recog- nized by villagers, who called to him and told him where to go. “Everybody thinks he knows all about it,” niuttered Prof. Drummond, “and I suppose the wildest tales are current.” The bedy had been taken to the local undertaker’s place of business, about which there was a crowd of morbid curiosity-seekers, men and women, They gave way promptly when the doctor jumped down from the carry- all and pushed toward the door. Prof. Drummona followed more leisurely, stopping first, to hitch his horse. ac- complishing this act with great delib- eration. When, at length, he entered the undertaker’s room, he found Dr. Williams, the undertaker and Mr. Phil- b there, All others had been barred out. It proved that tle rumors about the body having been found without clothing were exaggerated. The vic- tim’s clothing was torn, most of the upper garments having disappearca, and the body was mutilated to a re- markable degree. At first-it had been impossible to recognize the features, but when word got abroad that Hen- ry Starkweather had died suddenly at Fairview, people could see a resem- blance to the pleasant-voiced young man who had ‘Vevs living there for several weeks. Prof. Drummond looked long and earnestly at the dead man. “It is he,” he said, with a sigh, at last, and he turned about and slowly left the room. The undertaker fol- lowed him to the office in front to see whether he had any instructions to give. Dr. Williams and Mr. Philbrick were left with the body. The doctor had not looked up when the professor was present. He, too, had recognized Starkweather, and his personal curiosity had disappeared for | the moment in the ‘professional inter- est that the gruesome spectacle had aroused. He was but waiting an op- portunity to make a more thorough examination than he cared to make in the presence of others. As he heard the door close on the professor and the undertaker he bent more closely over the body and removed the cloth from the throat and chest. A moment later ch started, and a shudder passed over im. “Electricity!” he muttered, under his breath. “Electricity,” He Muttered. A low sound,something like a chuck- le, behind him, caused him to turn suddenly. Mr. Philbrick was leaning negligent- ly against an upright casket, his face lit with a mocking smile. “T rather thought you’d diagnosti- eate the case, Dr. Williams,” he said. CHAPTER LY, In the Corridor at Night. Dr. Williams was more disturbed by ch Mr. Philbrick’s manne than by bis | words, which in themselves conveyed no sinister meaning. The man’s negli- gent attitude and his smile, that seemed to indicate derision and tri- umph, were suggestive, certainly, of more than the passing curiosity with | which he had claimed that he viewed the matter. s “I don’t understand you,” mered the doctor. “Don’t you?” and Mr. Philbrick con- tinued to smile provokingly: “it don’t matter ,really, but you are beginning to understand the mystery attending the death of young Starkweather, stam- ; aren’t you?” A sharp retort burned on the doe- tor’s tongue, but ‘for once discretion prevailed and he restrained himself. “I can’t say that I am,” he said, his eyes revealing the resentment that his lips repressed. Mr. Philbrick’s man- ner. changed instantly. “I didn’t mean to intrude, Dr. Will- jams,” he said, suavely. “I hope you take no offense at what was a mere casual remark. I examined the body before you arrived ,you know, and I mysel? saw something that suggested an electrical shock. I thought you might regard it as significant, that was ew. .* “Whatever they were,” responded , the doctor, “I sheuld be inclined, un- der the circumstances, to keep my ob- servations to myself.” “Yes?” said Mr. Philbrick, inquir- ingly. “I think you understand my atti- tude from what you heard me say to Delos Hawkins. It shou!d be the part of thoughtful men to avert unneces- sary scandal. Ignorant men might jump at conclusions and create trou- ble. Indeed, Mr. Philbrick, you, your- self are inclined a little to jump at | conclusions, aren’t you? I speak frankly, but I am as desirous as you can be to avoid being offensive.” “Do not fear that I shall be offended, doctor, but tell me what conclusions 1 have jumped at.” “T inadvertently mentioned the word electricity, something I would not have done had I known that anybody was in hearing. Did you not promptly con- clude that I had become satisfied as to the cause of Starkweather’s death?” “Yes, in a measure; and wasn’t right, doctor?” Mr. Philbrick was eying Dr. Will- iams keenly, and a suspicion of a smile hovered about his lips. The doctor re- turned his gaze without flinching and responded: “No, you are wrong.” “As to the cause of death, doctor?” “As to my being satisfied with re- gard to it. The matter is still prob- Jematical.” “But I, too, saw the symptoms be- fore you came in.” “Mr. Philbrick are you a physician?” “No, but—well, it doesn’t matter. We shall gain nothing by a discussion of this aspect of the case. I shall not be guilty of setting ignorant tongues to wagging.” “Iam glad to hear you say so.” Mr. Philbrick had maintained his negligent attitude up to this point. Now he stepped over to the table on which the body of Starkweather lay and remarked: “Extraordinary mutilation.” “Yes,” said the doctor; “the river is extremely rapid and full of sharp rocks.” “IT wonder if it is possible that all that was done by rocks.” Dr. Williams looked at the body w'th fresh interest. He shut his teeth t..cther in his determination to betray none of his thoughts, and presertly brick murmw Poor Starkweathe! “Did you know him?’ asked the doc- tor. “No, I had no personal acquaintance with him, but I had seen him once or twice as others in Belmont had. He seemed to be a healthy, vigorous young man.” “Prof. Drummond is waiting for you, doctor,” said the undertaker, opening the door of the office. “I will be out directly,” responded the physician. He felt an unaccountable dislike to teaving Mr. Philbrick alone with Stark- weather’s remains, and was, therefore, relieved when that gentleman, with a light sigh as if he thereby dismissed the whole matter from his thoughts, went from the room ahead of him. Pretty much all the population had gathered in front of the undertaker's establishment. The éuriosity that had centered upon Prof. Drummond while he sat in the carryall conversing with Parson Whitaker, who made one of the crowd, was turned upon Dr. Will- jams when he came out. The crowd had been kept from invading the office by Minot Hawkins, the Belmont con- stable and a brother of Landlord De- los. The constable was as curious as anybody, and, by virtue of his office, felt no hesitation im asking questions of the doctor. “What do you think of it, Mason?” he said, addressing the doctor by his first name, a habit that few of the older people in the village could over- come, although he had been a practic- ing physician for three or four years. “There's no doubt that it’s Stark- weather,” replied the doctor. “Of course not,” returned the consta- ble in a solemn whisper, “but hold on a minute, Mason. Ain’t there anything else in your mind, eh?” Dr. Williams paused, conscious that substantially every eye in Belmont was upon him and that every person in the crowd knew the purport of Con- stable Hawkins’ whispered question. He knew not what to answer. His mind was in a conflict of half-formed ideas and conyictions. He longed for the discretion of fifty years. “Is it all right to go ahead and let Sampson (the undertaker) bury it, as the professor says?” asked the consta- ble after a moment. “I don’t see why you should ask me,” responded Dr. Williams, “I have no SA: That’s your lookout, isn’t it?” “Yes, ’tis; but you’re a doctor now, Mason, and you can see, p’r’aps, what the rest of us can’t. Have you looked at it as long as you want to?” The doctor looked sharply at Hawk- ins without replying. : “I was just suggesting,” continued Hawkins, “that if there was to be a hearing you might be called on to say what caused the death.” “You needn’t wait the burial on my account, constable,” said the doctor, pushing forward. It wasn’t often that his neighbors dignified Minot by addressing him by his official title, and as he was sin- cerely trying to do his public duty he took this consideration on the doctor's part in excellent spirit. He drew him- self up so that everybody saw that the representative of the law was satisfied with the situation, and when inquiries were directed to him as to what Dr. Williams had said he repued: “He knows his business, the doctor does, and when the right time comes he'll tetl all he knows.” As the doctor pressed forward to the carryall the crowd pushed up, too, eager to hear what the professor had i say and what the doctor would re- ply. 3 “I wis you'd get in, doctor,” were Prof. Drummond’s words, “if you've the time to spare, and come up to see my daughter and niece. I fear the shock may have been troublesome for them, and that they may need your services.” The doctor climbed in without re- plying. “There’s nothing so insatiate as the curiosity of a lot of countrymen,” re- marked the professor after they had sterted. “In this case,” responded the doctor, “the incentive to curiosity is exceed- ingly powerful.” “Yes, I suppose so,” said the.profes- sor, discontentedly, “I feel it myself. ‘What do you make of the case, eh?” Dr. Williams felt his heart thump- | ing wildly. “I suppose you've heard that ques- tion before during the past hceur, have you not?” asked the professor, with a labored attempt at lightness. “In one form or another, yes.” “I am more and more puzzled over the whole sad occurrence,” continued Prof. Drummond, as the doctor re- mained silent. “I had rather expected | that an examination of the remains by | a medical man would result in a sug- gestion as to the cause of death.” “I saw what might have been ev!- | dence of electrical shock.” | Dr. Williams pronounced these words in jolting fashion. It was not the roughness of the road that made his utterance explosive. The carryall rumbled along smoothly, but the doc- tor had to raise his voice to make it audible above the wheels and clatter of the horse’s hoofs, and what with the beating of his heart he could not keep it steady. Prof. Drummond did not ap- pear to notice the doctor’s nervousness. He allowed a distinct interval to elapse and then said: “The symptoms of death by elec- tricity are much the same as death by ing, are they not?” nder some circumstances they are identical. You noticed, perhaps. that I said that the manifestation I saw might have been evidence of electrical shock, not that I was certain of it.” “TI noticed it. To my mind, of course, there is no room for doubt that Stark- } The Crowd Pushed Up. weather’s death resulted from drowning. down in the first place I cannot im- agine.” “Is there no electrical apparatus at Fairview?” “Oh, certainly; but it is in the shop. Starkweather did not get as far as the shop, and when I went in I took pains to see whether it-had been disturbed. It had not.” A moment later the professor added, musingly: “Besides, it doesn’t seem probable that a man who had been apparently killed by electricity should so sud- denly recover and leave the room.” The doctor made no comment. He was battling with a terrible suspicion. The same suspicion that was slumber- ing apparently in the heart of every villager ,and that needed but the sound of one resolute voice to awaken to activity. Dr. Williams was not only disturbed by reason of his love for Louise, but by his utter inability to explain the occurrence at Fairview on any theory. - “What did the woman Betsey Hub- bard see?’ he thought. “She at least | could set at rest any question as to the professor's veracity.” “The villugers seemed to be a good deal worked up over it,” said Prof. Drummond, as they drew near the doc- tor’s house. “Naturally,” responded the doctor. “Violent, unexplained death is not so common hereabout as to pass un- noticed.” “Is suicide so unknown to them?” “They do not seem to be convinced of the suicide theory, professor,” said Dr. Williams. Prof. Drummond pressed his lips to- gether and said nothing further until they stopped before the doctor’s house. |The latter’s mother and the young | ladies came down to the gate. “It was Starkweather,” said the pro- fessor, gravely. ‘“Let’s not wait, Lou- of this importance could have kept me | from the house so long.” “Do you need to go yet, Miss Drum- mond?” asked Mrs. Williams anxious- ly. “Why shouldn’t you and your cousin stay to dinner, and Prof. Drum- mond, too?” “Not I, thank you,” replied the pro- fessor, “but I have no objection to the girls remaining if they wish to.” He looked straight at Louise as he spoke, and she seemed to teel that her father wished her to accept the invi- tation. “Yqar own luncheon, papa,” she fal- tered. é “I doa’t wish any. Come home as soon as ¥ou please.” He chirruped to the ‘horse, but checked him after he had gone a pace or two. . “IT am sincerely obliged, Mrs. Will- jams,” he sald, “for your offer of hos- pitality. I've no doubt the girls will appreciate it. Doctor, if you can spare the time, wiil you make inquires to see what became of my servant I had so many questions to answer below there that I didn't find much chance io ask any.” ~ ultimately | What struck him | ise. I have an experiment in progress | that I must attend to. Only a matter | ps noma meme — ‘I will see to it,” replied the doctor, “and bring wooed to you when the oung ladies go home.” ” It acid hardly be said that the din- ner at the doctor’s house passed én- joyably. Both young ladies were sag- ly depressed, and the doctor could not shake dark thoughts from his mind. In conversation afterwards Lo said: Mee “Papa must have ‘been mist D someow. I cannot pretend to under- stand it, but Mr, Starkweather must have committed suicide, perhaps in He Gently Opened the Door and Looked in. papa’s presence, and the shock may have unnerved him to such a degree | that he imagined what he told you.” Dr. Williams grasped eagerly at this -estion and tried to fit all the known events in harmony with it. “If I only knew what Betsey saw” he thought again. His inquiries concerning the servant elicited the information that she had run on to the railway station, half a mile or so beyond, and boarded the first train that came along, without buying a ticket. Toward evening Dr. Williams ac- companied the young ladies to Fair- view. They preferred to walk, they said, and he felt that it was just as yell that théy should. They came in ht of Fairview when about a quar- of a mile distant. ‘heir eyes urned toward it naturally, aud pres- | ently they saw the professor appear at | the front door in his shirt sleeves. He | went in again at once, and when the | party arrived he was at the top of the s, dressed as usual, to meet them. | “L am still further obliged to you, | doctor,” he said, composedly. “What | has taken place is an event that in one | form or another confronts us all from {time to time. I think my daughter |and my niece will not suffer from it, ‘but you might look in to-morrow, if | you like.” “I will certainly do so,” responded Dr. Williams, interpreting these re- marks a polite dismissal,. He, therefore, bade them all good evening and returned home. “Now, if you’ve no objection, girls,” | said the professor ,when the doctor | had gone, “you may get me some sup- per.” | This they did, and after the meal a ary evening procedure to the extent of sitting with them until bed time. He talked freely, frankly declining to dis- cuss Starkweather’s death and its at- tendant mysteries, upon general top- ics. ‘The conversation partook largely of the character of a lecture, for the young ladies had little heart for talk, but it served to make them the more willing to retire when the time came. Then he dismissed them with a few sensible words upon the commonplace, though sad nature of death, and ad- | vised them to think nothing of the tragical aspects of the event that had | shocked them all. “If you are wakeful,” he said, “you must let me know ,for I cannot have you Tose sleep. I shall be busy in the shop for some time ,two or three hours, perhaps.” Louise and Amelia went up stairs and went to bed together. About an hour later the professor emerged noiselessly from his shop and cau- | tiously made his way to the chamber they occupied. He gently opened the door and looked in. They were sieeping soundly. Having closed the door, he returned below stairs and set a lamp on the floor near the spot where Stark- weather had fallen dead. ‘Fhen he went into his shop and re- turned with a large chisel. With this he knelt, and presently pried up & | board. He laid it carefully aside and took up another. Holding the lamp to the opening he had made, he looked in for a moment. Then he set his lamp down, took a pair of pincers from his pocket, reached far under the floor and |eut something. He drew it out and laid it beside the boards. Holding the Lamp to the Opening, He Looked in. After a time he returned to the shop and brought out other boards, which he laid in the place of those he had taken up. When he had finished his work there was not the slightest mark upon the floor to indicate that any- thing had been done. (To Be Continued.) ra Musical Missicnaries. Two Mornin missionaries, who are musicians, and play as well as preach, returned from San Francizco last weelg from Samoa, where they have been la- boring during the last eighteen months, and, ‘hey say, with re- markable success. They have estab- lished a church at Apia, and allege that the Ssmoans are very easy con- verts. One of the m pla; a guitar and a harmonica at the same time, and the other alternates with a flute and a fiddle. Their manner of work was to attract and interest the natives, by their playing, and then en- deavor to convert by their | preaching. | Prof. Drummond modified his ordin- | §