Grand Rapids Herald-Review Newspaper, July 23, 1898, Page 6

—=—< } | | (Continued.) CHAPTER V. Stephen returned to Deanshurst in a more contented frame of mind than he This poacher fellow, who aad sent out. might have become a very serious source of danger to him, would very soon be beyond the reach alike of Ash- croft and of the police. even were the ruffian to be so strongly suspected as to be traced and brought back, he would serve as an admirable “scane- goat.” So that, upon the whole, the in- terview had been quite s actory, and the twenty-five pounds must be re- rarded as money well invested. When of Deanshurst the boy the richer by five shil- ices rendered. E -way up the avenue he encoun- tered Ashcroft, who touched his cap and wished him good-afternoon, with fulness of manner. he liberty of saying . Mr. Stephen,” he remarked, with ir of one qualified to give advice, “1 would not allow the inquest verdict to trouble me, if I were you.” “It doesn’t,” answered Stephen, calm- “Why should 12 ‘Oh, urse, I meant on your bdrother int, id game-keep If the police are satis- ‘fied with it, I ain’t. As sure as I’m a- ‘standin’ here, it w "t the Major as fired the shot—accident or ro acci- dent!” Stephen started. He could not help ait. There such ring of absolute conviction in the man’s voice. But he quic recovered himself, and in- quired whether he had succeeded in the foot- “pri indulged in a ‘low chuckle. ter Stephen, give me a pjoined, with a knowing ink 1in’t got quite that far yet. what would you y if I have the er of the hobnai safe under ind key within a week?” ay you are a remarkably vered Stephen, » sneer. * t do to move until you're quite remarked Asheroft, sagely. But Vil drop upen Hobnails, or my name 4 yhat I’ve alw thought it was. He's a bad lot, all round—that is, if I am on the right track. ‘ething there was in the game- manner that, to Stephen's sus- iggested a deeper pur- than his words conveyed; and, tever this purpose might be, he us resolved to know it. follow you, Ashcroft,” he at his watch. pect someone, whom ¥ ad lot,’ of a terrible yet you postpone denouncing 2 week! Why Is it that you need time to convert your suspicions into absolute proof: Ashcroft surveyed the lawyer with a look of almost insolent admiration. at, s he made answer; ss again.” as ignored, Stephen that Ashcroft suspected the poacher, and wished ‘stand this without putting in plain words am a yery poor hand at riddl e to the very lips. oa what you mean.’ nekeeper coughed a little un- bolder man than he might hhave hes ted to tell the owner of those d. z eyes, and of the stern, b e, the plain, unmiti- gated truth “Th » things* best not spoke r. Stephen,” he rejoined, round with affected caution, t said soonest mended. Afore the inquest you asked me to say noth- in’ "bout these fo s, SO as not to » no further s I done ented Stephen, ““you did. “We, sir, of cour ten pounds be ten pounds, But it seems to me that if 1 could fix the crime of which Major Deane is wrongly accused, I ought to ke a sight more nor ten pounds out Ain’t that in reason?” The monosylable was snapped out with almost savage ab- ruptness. ““Well, sir, it struck me as how you might feel sartin the Major’ll be ac- quitted right enough, without no help from me, and that ‘to avoid further ndal, (as you calls it), you might h me to go on holding m’y tongue. I felt pretty sure you wouldn’t let me lose nothin’ by obeyin’ you, an’ your money's as good as the Major's any So I just made up my mind I’d ou to let me know within a week, what you want me todo. I own I beat *round the bush a bit at first, but I guessed you'd bring me up to the i hy delay a week for my decis- Cos gentlemen don’t generally car- ry much money about with them in their portmantles, an’ I thought you might want a few days to get it in.” ““Very considerate on your part,” was Stephen’s comment upon this candid explanation. “And at what figure do you estimate your services—or your si- lence?” “Two hundred pounds,” said Ash- croft, Dromptly. “I never was a greedy aman, sir.’ Stephen paused, just long enough to make his decision appear a deliberate one. “You are right in supposing that I have not such a sum with me,” he said, at length. “You shall have it within three or four days.” “No hurry, sir,” rejoined Ashcroft, go long as it’s understood atween us. ‘Take the week, if more convenient, Meanwhile, I'm mum, an’ don’t know nothin’.” “Be it so, then,” said Stephen, with a curt nod of farewell. “Good-day to you, sir,-an’ thank’ee,”’ said the gamekeeper. And so they parted—the Wolf and the Sleuth-hound. Th? Doom of Deanshurst. The Sleuth-Hound Comes to Grief. CHAPTER VI. “Why are you avoiding me, phen?” Mother and son did not meet until breakfast the following morning, and she demanded why he was avoiding her. Nonsense, mother,” he made answer. “I am doing no such thing. Business of importance necessitated my dining in Winchester yesterday, and delayed my return until long after you had re- tired. That’s all.” Mrs. Deane shook her head doubtful- ly ne had long ago learned to attach but a limited credence to her younger son's statements, and now there was an air of re ve and mystery about him which she had never seen before. “Stephen,” she continued, placing her hand half-coaxizsiy upon his shoulder, “there is some heavy anxiety weighing upon your mind. Tell me. Is it in connection with this terrible shooting affair? Surely, you can con- fide in me “Of course I can,” assented Stephen, irritably, “but I have no confidences to make. I suppose you find me looking worried, and so I am. Ever since young Derek’s death the brunt of ev- erything has fallen upon my shoul- der nd I can assure you I am hearti- ly sick of it.” I can understand that,” said his mother; “but I was afraid, from your haggard appearance and strange man- ner, that you had some secret source of trouble. I am glad I was mistaken. And now I want to ask you about Os- car. Will he really have to stand his trial for manslaughter?” I expect The grand jury are scarcely likely to ignore the finding at the inquest, and there are no grounds for a nolle prosequi on the part of the Crown. But I see no good cause for anxiet It reely within the ility that he should be Ste- found guilty. “We must hope for the best. should he not recover his reason?’ ase, he could not be tried, and no objection would probably be d to his detention in some high- 88 private asylum.” “What an awful prospect!” ex- claimed Mrs. Deane, with a shudder. “Would that interfere with his succes- sion to the baronetcy?” “Not at all. Nothing short of his death can do that, now that Derek is gone.” “Stephen!” said his mother, reproach- fully, “you speak almost as though you desired your brother's death. For Heaven's sake, tear the unworthy thought from your heart! It can bring naught save a curse and misery in its train.” “Like the Deaneshurst succession, eh?’ rejoined Stephen, with a harsh, forced laugh. “Why, my dear mother, so far from envying Oscar his pros- pects as Sir Derek’s heir, sane or mad, I should rejoice at it.” There was such bitter, well-nigh ge irony in Stephen’s tone, that his mother shuddered involuntarily. She recalled the childish words spoken years before, and realized how true it is that the child is father of the man. “You speak of the possibility of Oscar marrying,” she said, after a pro- longed and somewhat awkward pause. “Has he spoken to you on the sub- But ject?” “Very vaguely,” was the reply. “He wa I understand, half-engaged to some girl, whose people stepped in and broke off the match.” “They have tried very hard to do so,” corrected Mrs. Deane, “but I have rea- son to believe that the young lady her- self still returns his affection. I met her quite recently, by the metest acci- dent, at the house of an old friend of mine. She will become of age in about six months’ time, and is apn heiress—” “The rest is soon foretold,” broke in Stephen, cynically. “Her people, find- ing that Oscar is heir to a baronetecy and Deanshurst, welcome him with open arms, and all ends merrily to the sound of wedding bells. Lucky Oscar! But, by the way, I hope the lady won’t take it into her head to come down here?” “Make your mind easy upon that score. Miss Danvers is not at all like- ly to commit any such indiscretion. May I ask you a question, a very seri- ous indiscretion. May I ask you a question, Stephen, a very serious ques- tion, about yourself?” “Certainly,” was the reply. is it?” “Are you married?” Stephen gave a slight, scarcely pre- ceptible start, and looked at his moth- er very fixedly for some moments. “N—o,” he answered, a faint, sneering smile adding point to his neagtion, “I am not married. May I ask your rea- son for the inquiry?” “My dear boy, I am so glad!” ex- claimed Mrs. Deane, with a sigh of re- lief. “I was misled by a silly report (which really sounded most alarmingly curcumstantial) into almost believing that you had committed the folly of se- cretly marrying a young person be neath you in social position and abso- lutely penniless.” “And from whom did you learn all this? From the ‘young person’ herself, perhaps?” “Oh, dear, no! My friend, Mrs. Chet- wynd, had it from her nephew, who is a member of your Inn or of your club, I forget which, and she traveled all the way from Clifton on purpose to tell me.” ~ “Did she also tell you that I hed Jack Chetwynd posted for non-pay- ment of a debt of honor?” “No; she said nothing of that what- ever.” “Well, that will be pleasant news for you to tell her, when next you meet,” “What sneered Stephen, “and it has the added merit of being quite true.” Mrs. Deane kissed him in the fullness of her satisfaction. “I cannot tell you how greatly this story upset me, my dear,” she remarked. “The wretch went the length of assuring her that he had dined with you and your wife in Brixton! He ought to be severely pun- ished for telling such falsehcods.” “I'll be even with him, never fer,” rejoined Stephen. “I am very glad you mentioned this matter to me.” “And so am I, my dear, although, to tell the truth, I was half-afraid to broach it lest it should prove to be true.” “How long do you propose to s' here, mother?” he inquired, somewhat abruptly. “Were Sir Derek, by any mischance, to hear of your wisit, he would quarrel with us all irrevocably, and your income is a serious matter to risk?’ “Dr. Rowan hopes to see Oscar out of actual danger within three day: she made answer. “Until then I can- not and will not leave him, income or no income. Remember, I am his moth- er, Stephen.” There was a quiet pathos in the sim- ple words that pierced even his callous heart. “Very well,“ he said, almost gently, “we must take the risks. I’ll caution Hirst to be extra-careful.” That time-serving functionary had become greatly perturbed in spirit by a fresh whim of his eccentric master. Sir Derek had taken it into his head to abandon the use of speech almost’en- tierly; and, whereas, he had hereto- fore been wont to gossip freely with the butler and his wife, he now re- mained either sulkily silent or replied in monosyllables, often of a profane character. He ate and drank as be- fore, and showed no signs (apart from his great age) of a physical break- down; but he seemed, mentally, to have retired entirely within himself and to take no further interest in what Went on outside the walls of his bed- room. Doubtless, from one point of view, this altered demeanor of the old man had its advantages, since it de- barred him from asking awkward questions and from all active interfer- ence with the household. But, on the other hand, it tended entirely to sub- vert the influence which the Hirsts had exercised as confidential servitors and advisers-in-chief. “Tell you what it is,” remarked the butler to his better half, “I can’t stand this new fit the old ’un has took, net at no price. Fairly gives me the ‘ump, he does, with his ‘yes,’ and his ‘no,’ and his mumbled cusses. “Don’t you be fool eneugh to cross him, anyhow,” cautioned the astute wife. “lo my mind, it’s a sign he ain’t much Ionger for this world; he finds the exertion o’ talking toe great for his worn-out old lungs. Our game is just to humor him to the end, and see he don’t alter that will he made two years ago.” 3ut he’s bound to make a fresh will now that Master Derek’s dead,” sug- gested Hirst. “No, he ain’t bound to do no such thing,” retorted the housekeeper. “And, like as not, he’ll never give the matter a thought, without someone puts it into his head. You take my ad- vice, and leave well alone, same as Mr. Stephen’s a-doin’. He knows what he’s about, that he does.” “That’s more than I do,” was Hirst’s comment. “He scahe ever sees the old ‘un, even to say ‘How d‘ye do? and when he does, ho don’t stop two min- utes in the room. You'd think he'd take advantage of his brother's illness to make the inner runnin’ with Sir Der- ek. But he don’t. It’s just ‘Hope I see you better, sir. Any further instruc- tions?’ and off, ’most afore the old man has time to snarl ‘No’ at him. He's either playin’ a very deep game or trustin’ a lot in Providence, is Mr. Ste- phen. Time will tell.” Mr. Hirst was quite right. Time al- ways does tell—in the end, * * * * * * Dr. Rowan’s forecast proved correct, and three days later Stephen escorted his mother to London upon her way back to Cheltenham. He saw her sare- ly off from Paddington, and the. looked in at his club. “I say, Deane, what on earth sre your peaple up to down at Deans- hurst?” queried the Hon. Dick Faucett, glancing up from a newspaper he had been perusing. “What do you mean, old man?’ asked Stephen, in his turn, approach- ing the speaker. “I haven’t seen an evening paper yet.” “Then read this,” rejoined his friend, handing him the sheet. Stephen did so, but, beyond a slight raising of the eyebrows, showed no sign of emotion at the perusal. Yet the paragraph was startling enough “Another Tragedy at Deanshurst.— Following close upon the heels of what is now generally known as the ‘Deans- hurst Mystery’ comes the report of yet another tragedy at the same place. Shortly before noon to-day the body of Samuel Ashcroft, head gamekeeper to the lord of the manor, Sir Derek Deane, Bart., was discovered in Bram- ham Woods, at a spot not far distant from the scene of the previous catas- trophe, by an underkeeper named Joyce. Two punctured wounds over the region of the heart sufficiently indi- cate the cause of death ,which, in the opinion of local surgeons, must have taken place at least twelve hours prior to the discovery. Rumor associates the crime with the sudden disappearance of a notorious poacher and ex-convict from the neighborhood, between whom and the deceased a bitter feud had long existed. The deceased was forty-four years ef age and unmarried.” “Just like my confounded luck!” ex- claimed Stephen, throwing the paper aside, irritably. “I have a heap of things to attend to here in town, and now I must race back to see into this wretched, business, I suppose!” “Must you?” echoed Faucett. “Can't the police down there look after it?” “Yes; but with Sir Derek practically helpless, and my brother little more than alive, there must be someone to take the reins at Deanshurst—and so back I must go.” “Deuced hard lines, I must say,” re: marked the Hon. Dick, sympathizing- ly. “but, as you say, it can’t well be helped. I’m sorry for that poor beggar of a keeper. Rather a smart sort of & fellow, too, wasn't he?” “Yes,” assented — hen “a very smart fellow indeed, especially, in his own estimation. Surprising how often these would-be-smart men come to SHIFTING + THE TAXES. grief. The fools who mind their own business seem to come out best after all.” With these sapient comments upon Ashcroft’s fate, he finished up his whisky-and-soda, shook hands with Faucett and drove to Waterloo. “Pretty cool, that,” muttered the Hon. Dick, “considering the poor beg- gar seems to have been killed by a poacher. But then, Deane always takes a cynical view of everything. Nature of the animal, I suppose.” CHAPTER VII, Guilty or Not Guilty? Winchester may be all that its anti- quarian admirers claim for it in respect to historical interest, and it may still, in virtue of its Cathedral, assert its right to rank as a city. ter of fact, it is nowadays just a very ordinary, dull little town, occasionally galvanized into life by a royal visit, a mammoth circus or a judge on circuit. And upon the eve of the day when the much-talked-of “Deanshurst Mys- tery was to be threshed out before a jury, beds were at a premium at most of the hotels. From the day when he had first shown signs of being out of danger, Osear Deane’s recovery had been rav- id, nor had the fears entertained as to his reason been, to any noticeable ex- tent, realized. He was, it is true, slower of thought, duller, less talkative than he had been before the injury; but, apart from ap occasional lapse of memory, his intellect was unimpaired. So soon as Dr. Rowan permitted him to speak, his first inquiries had natural- ly been as to how he came to be in bed, with his head enveloped in bandages and smarting so sorely. A few cau- tious questions satisfied the doctor that his patient remembered nothing of what had occurred in the wood, ex- cept that high words had passed be- tween his cousin and himself; and it behooved him to be very cautious in imparting the full, terrible truth. “Then your memory stops short at the fact that you and he cuarrelled?” he suggested. “Yes, I turned to Ieave him, fearing 1 might lose my temper and strike him. "I have a hazy recollection of a sudden crash, aecompanied by myriads of daz- zling sparks, and then—a blank.” “You were found, many hours Iater, with a fractured skull, and suffering from a concussion of the brain, which very nearly proved fatal. The blow was clearly struck by your cousin with the butt of his gun.” “And what of Derek? me to my fate?” Dr. Rowan coughed uneasily, scarce knowing how best to break the news, yet unwilling to excite his patient by leaving him in suspense. “No, he did not leave you; he was found lying quite close to you—” “Was he injured? How?’ inquired Oscar, anxiousliy. “No one knows exactly how it hap- pened,” replied the doctor, very slowly; “but you must prepare yourself for very sad tidings. Your cousin was shot through the head, and, of course, stone-dead.” “Merciful Heavens!” exclaimed the sick man, in horror-stricken tones. “Derek dead?......Shot through the too terrible for be- Did he leave lief... -This is some mockery of my wandering brain .. .. ..some ghastly fream!” “Unfortunately, it is stern reality, Major Deane,” rejoined Dr. Rowan, “and the general belief (a belief in- dorsed by the verdict of the jury at the inquest) is that he eame to his death at your hands.” “Impossible!” exclaimed Oscar, with unlooked-for energy. “Absolutely im- possible! When I turned to leave him: my gun was hanging, muzzle down- wards, from my right forearm, and un- cocked. I am always extremely care- ful in handling firearms How on earth could I have fired after receiving a blow which instantly stunned me?” “That is a point which has puzzled everyone,” admitted the doctor, “and the most reasonable conjecture is that your gun went off by accident as you fell. What is quite certain is that the right barrel had been discharged, and that your unfortunate cousin was rid- dled with No. 6 shot—similar to those in the undischarged left barrel. It is searcely to be wondered at if, under these bewildering circumstances, the coroner's jury brought in a dubious verdict.” “What was this verdict?” demanded Oscar, controlling himself by a great effort. “Well, it was, properly speaking, searcely a verdict at all, but it seems, technically, to have amounted to a charge of manslaughter against you. Eyen the authorities have not taken it very seriously, as you may infer from the fact that, although nominally un- der committal to stand your trial, you are still at Deanshurst. Your brother watched the case very ably on your be- half, and even he acknowledged that no other result was possible under the circumstances.” Oscar lay back upon his pillows and closed his eyes, as though striving to bring home all these startling revela- tions to his still-confused senses. “Send Stephen to me, if you plezse,” he said, presently; and then he re- lapsed into thought, awaiting his brother’s coming. “Well, Oscar?’ was the lawyer's not very cordial greeting. “Rowan tells me he has placed you in possession of the chief incidents in this unfortunate affair—” “Yes,” interrupted Oscar, “he has; but I can make nothing of it all, ex- cent that I am supposed to have shot Derek.” “That's about all anybody could make of it,” rejoined Stephen, shrug- ging his shoulders, “unless we are to suppose that Derek shot himself, with your gun, after knocking you down— which is, of course, absurd on the face of it. There’s no getting away from plain fact, old fellow. You either pulled upon him owing to some invol- untary muscular action of the fingers, under the stimulus of the blow, or your gun went off through the concus- sion of your fall. No one blames you, or suspects you of foul play, anyhow. You're bound to be acquitted. And if I were you I wouldn't risk azain fever | by worrying over an accident that can not be helped.” (To Be Continued.) But, as a max EXPRESS COMPANIES MAKE THE PEOPLE PAY. It Would Therefore Be a Good Idea for the People to Retaliate by Shipping as Little as Possible by Express Trains —One Way to Make Them Pay. With magnificent dash and laudable promptness the expresscompanies have solved the war tax problem so far as their corporations are concerned. They have concluded that it is best for all concerned that the people should pay the tax.’ It will be observed that there has been no pernicious delay in this Matter. Neither false modesty nor Buling patriotism have prompted the express companies to consider for a single moment the appropriateness of their paying the tax imposed by an op- pressive and inconsiderate congress upon their business. When it is re- membered that the tax on an express package, big or little, is the enormous sum of one cent it can readily be un- derstood that as they clearly state: “The payment of this amount would take so large a proportion of the com- panies’ net revenue that it would be impossible for them to assume the bur- den.” Of course, it would be cruel to drive the poor, struggling, philanthrop- ic express companies out of business and the people, therefore, will cheer- fully, even gratefully, pay the extra cent which the law says the express companies shall pay. But with mag- Rificent generosity these common carriers have granted one boon to the People who send express packages. They will not raise their prices 10 or 20 per cent in order to cover the one cent tax, but will simply make the ship- per pay the tax and call it square at that. Hurrah for Mark Hanna and prosperity—for the trusts. INDIAN GOLD STANDARD. Assuming that a gold standard with a gold money is the object to be aimed at in India, if it is to have a gold standard at all, what are the difficulties in the way? The general difficulty is that India is both a poor and heavily indebted country, having large remittances to make annually in payment of interest and dividends to foreign creditor countries, and chiefly to England, with a gold standard. Such a country, if it has the same money as the creditor country, can only retain it with difficulty. By the necessity of the case the exchange is chronically against it. People in India and the government itself with money to remit seek bills on England on which, accordingly, there is a premium. What the nature of this premium is is very well explained in Mr. Bagehot’s papers on the silver question. The result of such a premium in a debtor country having a gold money the same as its creditor country is that the gold tends to go away. It is the most ready asset to send, far preferable to goods, In other words, then, there is likely to be a steady drain of currency from a debtor country like India if its cur- rency is the same as the creditor coun- ry, England, and this steady drain will contract and disturb the money market till the situation becomes intolerable. This is the general rationale of the statement so often made in the city that some countries are too poor to have a gold standard. It is not poy- erty merely that makes the difficulty, but poverty combined with heavy in- debtedness. The gold money in such a case stead- ily tends to go away. The remaining currency, whether of paper of other coin, is then with difficulty convertible into gold, and so the standard is lost. SENATOR MORGAN’S VIEWS. Interview with Senator Morgan, of Alabama: “Naturally, the temporary possession of conquered territory will pring the United States into closer con- tact with the interests of other na- tions,” he replied, “‘but it does not fol- low in course of logic that difficulties should ensue. It may be taken as a fundamental proposition in dealing with the situation which will confront us at the close of the war, that we are strong enough to do right without as- sistance. We have no purpose or mo- tive in doing anything that is not right. “If we should enter upon a career of conquest we would then feel the work- ings of unworthy motives and would crave alliance with other powers. The United States is in no danger of being beset with a desire for conquest. “It must be remembered that we are anxious that all the world should adopt the principles of free and just govern- ment that have found for us so warm a place in the hearts of virtuous and sensible people all over the nations of the earth. At the same time we prefer to wait on the voluntary adoption of these blessings by other peoples rather than to assist in a propaganda to that end. Independent self-government is the corner-stone of our system, and holding this fact in steadfast view, we could not by conquest force any form.of government on another people.” “Yet you do not hold that we should not acquire land beyond the shores of America?” “Far from entertaining such an opin- ion, I have consistently maintained that there are circumstances which may make it imperative for us to go beyond our present domain. But we must do this in a way not to ite the principles of our own government. It is fortunate for us that new conditions have arisen to teach us the necessity we are under of providing for our fleets of commerce and of war along the im~- portant highways of the seas, so that we may have stores of fuel and sup- plies, together with shelter within for- tified ports to meet the necessities of navigation and the dangers of war not to be governed by the civil au- thority of the United States, without being included in our territorial limits by annexation. The cause of the war with Spain is her inability to govern her colonies so as to make them toler- able as neighbors to other civilized countries, or so as to prevent those who respect humanity in its plainest rights from interfering to protect the suffer- ing subjects from her cruel govern- ment, “In the progress of the war we are becoming responsible for the establish- ment of better government in the Phil- ippines—a very grave responsibility— from which we cannot shirk. It would seandalize the American people if our armies, in marching and fighting to re- lieve oppression, should leave the field to the horrors of anarchy. “The theater of the war has been ul- expectedly transferred to the Orient, where wé can have no motive for terri- torial acquisitions beyond ine posses- sion of naval stations and harbors of refuge for shelter, in times of peace, and protection in times of war, of our commerce in those far distant seas. The duties that come upon us under these unexpected conditions at once demand our attention to the question of annexation of the Philippines.” “And the answer to that question ist” “The answer is already recorded im the negative in the minds of the Ameri- can people. The next question im or- der is whether we should govern those islands, as colonies. “That is also answered in the nega- tive, for the reason that our form of government is not suited to the control of a subject people, and our own citi- zems advocate the right of free loca) self-government for all peoples.” DEMONETIZING SILVER. The decisive blow for the gold stand- ard was struck by Germany after the overthrow of France. As the spoil of victory Germany re- ceived an enormous indemnity, and her government, perhaps unconsciously, | Was propelled along the path which led toward the enhancement of her treas- ure. The act of July 9, 1873, complet- ed the provisions for the issue of the new gold money, and for the melting and sale of the old silver coin. On Sept. 6, 1873, France, to limit the amount of metal which might thus be thrown on her mints, imposed the first restriction on the free coinage of sil- ver; and in 1876 the Latin union ceased striking 5-frane pieces. The whole strain of the commerce of Europe and the United States was thus by degrees transferred from the old composite monetary substance to gold alone, and, as Lord Overstone had fore- told twenty years before, it began slowly and surely to rise in value. ‘Silver, however, was still in full use throughout the East, and the natural increase of the demand from those countries appears to have steadied its value in relation to commodities, for its purchasing power remained prac- tically unchanged; and thus the phe- nomenon which has come more antl more to absorb the attention of man- kind is the constantly accelerating rate of the rise of gold. Sir David Barbour related how early the Indian officials began pondering these problems. When the gold price of silver began to fall, the opinion was very general- ly entertained that the fall was due to increased production of silver. * * * Attention was called as early as 1876 by the government of India to the fact that it was gold prices that were fall- ing and not silver prices that were ris- ing, and the experience acquired since that year has conclusively shown that the fall in the gold price of silver has been accompanied by a great fall in gold prices and not by a rise in sil- ver prices. What's in a Name? Like his distinguished namesake in the United States senate, Consul Han- na, of St. Thomas, Jamaica, has a fond- ness for operations in the coal line. That is why the credit of the United States is at a discount in the West In- dies and our consuls and naval offi- cers will hereafter have to pay for sup- plie¥ in cash instead of with drafts on the United States treasury. Besides buying coal for the government, Hanna invested in a cargo on his own account, and owing to his official position he was granted credit for the amount of the purchase. The speculation proved to be a losing one, Hanna’s draft on the treasury was dishonored and his government has to bear the oppro- brium of the whole transaction. Under any other administration we should ex- pect that Hanna would be recalled in disgrace, but. that outcome is by no means certain in the present case.) There is in high quarters at Washin; ton a very natural sympathy for gen- tlemen who become financially embar- rassed, and, besides, the consul’s cog- nomen will protect him. Who would dare to asperse the sacred name of Hanna? No Reason to Mourn, Cincinnati Enquirer: It is noted that the name of Goy. Bushnell did not fig- ure conspicuously in the resolutions adopted by the Republican state con- vention, He can well afford to be out of them. ‘Some of those who are in will seek seclusion in the future, — - ee jee