Grand Rapids Herald-Review Newspaper, May 11, 1901, Page 3

4 LO | | i i | | Se RE PARTE TORE SET NLT RENE TCS Be #2 IN THE WEB OF ev... BR LILLIAN an A SPIDER... see GILLIN. | CHAPTER XVIII. (Continued.) She had walked boldly into the web this cunning spider had woven for her unwary feet. How could she—poor, helpless little fly!—oppose him? She looked at those gathered about the table, afid Allen’s eyes met hers. Instinctively she felt his strength and protection could not fail her, let her need be-ever so great. “You do not understand me,” contin- ued Randolph, as no glass was lifted in response to his own. “Let me, then, present you to my cousin, Beatrice Markham, in the young lady you have known as Miss Montrose. By courte- sy, we will still give her the old name. Beatrice, you, at least, will lift your glass to mine?” Had a thunderbolt -been launched in their midst, it could have produced no more startling effec! Randolph stood waiting, smiling; but Beatrice sat motionless and dumb. She had dreamed, in her folly, that her ingognita might for a time be pre- served. She had not argued the thou- sand chances that might at any time disclose it, against any and all of which Chester had thus boldly fortified himself. She felt for an instant like a crim- inal on whose arm the hand of justice has been laid. Her heart beat slowly and with difficulty; her blood refused to flow. Then the very facts with which she was confronted gave her back her courage which for the moment they had robbed her. After all, it was easier to fight under her true colors than wearing a mask, whose disguise might at any time be rendered of no avail. “I will leave you to finish the ex- planation you have begun, Mr. Ches- ter,” she said, with dignity, as she rose from the table. “You, doubtless, can make it clear why the man who robs his fellow man of some paltry sum of gold or silver is called thief and thrust into jail, while he who steals fortune, name and identity from a helpless girl is entitled, in the eyes of the world, to all honor for the act. But, understand, Randolph Chester, I have returned to Grey Oaks neither in acceptance of your invitation nor your formally-prof- fered charity, but because a voice from the dead has summoned me. Take care | that, later, its summons do not reach your ears!” : She finished speaking and, with a low bow, swept from the room. Silence fell on the little group left be- hind her--silence again broken by their host. “I owe you an apology, Mrs. Layton, and you, also, my dear Allen,” he said, while an expression as of deep grief flitted over his face, “for not having at once disclosed to you the identity of my cousin in one known to you as Miss Montrose; but, seeing her under your roof, and perceiving instantly that she wished to pass unrecognized by me, my worst fears regarding her were confirmed. All this wretched trouble, and the shock of discovery regarding her parents, had turned her brain. I feared to take any other course than the one I have followed, of seeming to humor her whims, lest she should re- fuse to return to Grey Oaks, and 1 shrank from employing force to bring her here. Happily, my little plan worked well. She is once more under my roof and my protection. Although unsuspected by herself, I shall have her carefully guarded; nor shall she be permitted, alone, to leave the grounds. Meantime, I must beg your indulgence for her. Give her no hint that we suspect her mind to be disor- dered, and perhaps, in time, it will re- cover itself. You can guess something of the nature of this trial to me when I repeat that she, whom you have just heard address me with such aversion, was to have been my wife.” His voice seemingly broke and, ris- ing abruptly, he walked toward the window, as though to hide emotion too strong for him to otherwise conceal. The story produced a different effect upon the little group. Mrs. Layton’s first thought had been a secret determination to cut short her visit to Grey Oaks, and horror that Cora should have been thrown in close association with a young person whom society could no longer regard as re- spectable; but, after all, Mr. Chester was very charming, the girl insane, and who knew but that Cora might prove the healer to this most romantic wound! Cora’s bright eyes were dimmed with tears. Had any other lips than Ran- dolph Chester’s pronounced Beatrice insane she would indignantly have de- nied it; but, coming from him, who had already acquired so strong and subtle an influence over her, the asser- tion staggered her. Miss Lorrimer had listened with a cold smile, her eyes fixed, not on the speaker, but on Ailen’s face. She had watched the muscles of his mouth quiver, and had seen the blood slowly ebb from his cheeks. What part did B. T. play in th drama, she wondered, and where was he now? She had: re- newed reason for congratulation that she had not permitted the letter sent him to reach its destination. Through that letter, too, she had gained valu- able knowledge — knowledge which made her now distrust both Randolph Chester and his statements. Yet she was the first to reply to him. “It is very, very sad,” she said. “Really, it quite made my blood run cold when she spoke of having been commanded to return here by a voice from the dead. Mad people have strarge freaks always. You consider her quite harmless, Mr. Chester?” “Oh, my dear, you quite startle me!” exclaimed Mrs. Layton. Allen looked up. His face was very white, and he opened his lips to speak, put repressed the impulse and was si- lent. “He does not dare to trust himself,” though his betrothed. “Well, I shall have an able alJy in Randolph Chester fo my plans, and Allen’s Seart shall + + + FG — ’ iN yet be mine on the rebound.” Meanwhile, face downward on the bed where she had thrown herself, lay she of whom they spoke. No tears flowed, but great scbs shook and racked her with cruel force. She felt herself alone in her old home —a stranger at Grey Oaks. Why had she returned? What was in a dream—a foolish, flitting dream— that it should wield such constraining pewer? How could she live a single day beneath the same roof which shel- tered her bitterest foe? Not for a moment ever again could his specious plausibility deceive or bind her. Yet she had walked boldly into the trap his wily fingers had set for her. Ske would not, could not stay. What mattered it that she was pen- niless?The world could not be so cruel as he. To-night—this very night—she would steal like a thief from the old home, never, never to return to it again. Even Bertie had sent her no letter in reply. Alone, unaided, she must give up the contest. “Papa! Mamma!” she cried. did not God take me, too?” And then, as though the intuitive ap- real had brought reply, a burst of teers came to save her brain from the medness of whick they already ac- cused her. “On, Ww CHAPTER XIX. It was midnight, and Grey Oaks was wrapper in the embrace of the twin shadows—silence and darkness—-when the dcor leading to the suite of apart- ments in the east wing softlly opened, and a figure, which seemed a very phantom of the night, stood hesitating. It was Beatrice, fully dressed. Some instinct warned her that by daylight her flight from Grey Oaks might be intercepted. Besides, it seemed to her she could not draw a free breath until outside the grounds which once had been to her the dear- est spot on the wide earth. As no sound broke the stillness of the house, she noiselessly groped her way through the half-lighted halls and down the stairway until the outer door was reached. The great door of entrance, in open- ing, would betray her, so she passed into the library, hoping to be able to unbar a window without noise. The room was dimly-lighted, but ev- ery article could be distinctly seen. As the familiar picture met her view, her dream recurred to her with start- ling distinctness. She almost fancied she could hear again the rustling leaves, and glancing instinctively to- ward the window which had framed her father’s form; but it was closed and shuttered, and without the trees were bleak and bare, without a single leaf to tell her the story if it couldl. She stifled a sob and walked swiftly across the room, lifting her hand to undo the fastenings of the window. Just as she made the movement, an- other hand was laid on her. Her whole frame quivered with the shock, but she uttered neither scream not cry, al- though for the instant it seemed as if the owner of the hand must have sprung from the very floor. “Allow me to assist you, my dear cousin,” said a low, mocking voice in her ear. “It is a cold night for a moonlight stroll, such as I guess was your intention. But there is no ac. counting for a fair woman’s freaks. I believe I had fallen asleep in the arm chair here, and do you know, for a moment, as you flitted so noiselessly across the room, I held my breath, im- agining you a visitant from another sphere?” “Tam,” she answered, icily—‘‘a sphere unknown to you, Randolph Chester--a sphere whose atmosphere is honor, loyalty and truth. Therefore, let me pass, and pray, as I shall pray, that our two paths may never meet again.” “Rather, my dear Beatrice, I intend that they shall never again divide. It was a fatal mistake, your leaving Grey Oaks. It gave rise to unstinted com- ment, and caused me the gravest anxi- ety concerning you. Of your own free will you have returned here, and here you must remain!” “Must remain! You are mad to use such terms! You speak as if compul- sion would be used!” He smiled, indulgently. “Did you know, Beatrice,” he said, “that one of the strangest freaks of the | insane is to imagine that all the rest of the world are mad? My child, don’t include me in your category, I beg you!” “A freak of the insane!” she mur- mured after him, with whitening lips, and gathering a sickening prescience of his meaning. “For God's sake, what do you mean?” “Only, my child, that your brain has not been strong enough to bear these cruel shocks from which you have suffered. and has given way beneath them. Time and care will, I trust, en- tirely restore you. When you «shal look upon Bertram Tallbot not as a hero, but the thief he is—when you shall regard me, not as your enemy, but your friend, lover and husband— when you shall give your free will and consent to granting me the latter title. I shall deem the cure complete. Until | then, Beatrice, you force me into plac- ing you under surveillance befitting so sad a case.” Fear—absolute physical fear—entered | the girl's soul as she grasped the full purport of his words. Her lovely face, pale before, blanched.to marble white- ness. The gray eyes dilated until they were black with the awful horror in their depths. She shivered as if a blast of winter had struck her. Instinctively she stretched out her arms and grasped the back of a chair for support, lest her trembling limbs should refuse to sustain her. “You call me mad?” she said, the {| | | | | | | words falling, one by one, from her white lips. “Listen, Mr, Chester! I will plead to you—to you—even to you who so cruelly have wronged me. Let me go away to-night. You shall see or hear of me never again. Though there are those who, coming to me to-mor- row, would say: ‘I will restore to you your birthright,’ I would not hearken. I will never claim my own. Only do not say this hideous thing. For the sake of the past—for God’s sake, for humanity's sake, let me go forth from Grey Oaks to-night, and let the shades of darkness forever make my hiding- place!” ° “My poor child, this is but a phase of your delirium,” he answered, But the old, mocking smile had nev- er left his lips. His voice rose no whit higher than its -usual tone. She was indeed, huntetd, trapped, caged. He might torture her as he would, until, in very truth, he had driven her to madness. What mercy might she hope from him? None—none, and full well she knew it. “I will demand protection from your guests, then!” said she, striving to re- gain some of her lost courage. “They will not allow this outrage to be per- petrated!” He still smiled on. “Will you tell them that a voice from the dead has counseled you to seek their help?” His words were more cruel than blows. Closer and closer he drew the withes around the tender flesh, until she fairly writhei in agony. “Beatrice,” he continued, “do you not see the uselessness of this strug- gle? Why prolong it? Swear to me that in one month hence you will be- come my wife, and all shall yet be well. Refuse, and the consequences are of your own making. Spite of all you have done, spite of your undisguised hatred and aversion, I still offer you my love. Why will you not accept it? “Because it is a worse fate than even this horrible alternative you lay before me. You can but torture, until you kill, Randolph Chester. But why —why should I submit? Is there no law—no justice, that can protect me?” “Why, dear, spite of your illegitimacy of birth, I am, in the law’s eyes, your nearest relative, and, as such, your guardian. It rests with you whether the authority thus given me proves irksome. How gladly would I renounce. it, Beatrice, for the chains forged alone by love! Are you still relentless?” “Yes, and will be to the end! To the end, Randolph Chester, though you may drivé me with knotted cords along the long, slow road that leads there, al- though the end may be only the grave. I will never plead to you again. Wreak your worst!” From the ashes of her misery her courage rose to this last challenge. Never had she looked more beautiful than when she thus dared and defied him. “Poor child!” he answered, “I trust violence may not be necessary. You understand that only in the hours of daylight you may go into the grounds, and never beyond them, quite alone. If, from time to time, pitying glances are thrown toward you, you will under- stand them.” Thus he tortured her, until her reel- ing brain seemed to burn as if fire rest- ed upon it. “Go to your room, Beatrice,” he said, and though his voice was low, it rang for the first time as an absolute com- mand. It told her obedience was expected, and would be compelled. And she was powerless—powerless to refuse. “My God! Thou, too, hast deserted me!” she inwardly cried, as, staggering like a drunkard, she tried to cross the floor. He placed his arm about her for sup- port, but the hated touch gave her back some of her sorely-tried strength. She shook herself free from him. “Not that! Anything but that!” she said; and in her voice rang the old, dauntless scorn. “Your touch, at least, I may be spared!” Alone she gained the threshold of the room. Suddenly she paused. Who had spoken? “The will! The papers! The secret —the secret!” Distinctly the words fell on her ear. She turned. Randolph Chester was. standing on the self-same spot, the same smile wreathing his thin lins, but he had not spoken. It was not his voice that she had heard: She peered into the dim recesses. No one was in hiding. “The secret—the secret!” Again the whisper was borne to her ears. “God in Heaven!” she thought. des- pairingly. “Was it true that madness, indeed, had overtaken her?” CHAPTER XX. How she reached her room. how the long night wore away, Beatrice never knew. She lay, fully dressed, upon her bed, in a sort of stupor, from which the daylight, stealing through the blinds, aroused her. Her eyes had never closed. All through the night they had stared into the darkness, until this first faint sun- shine blinded them. Ah, what had she and sunlight in common! No wonder that she shrank from its brilliance and its glare. Yet, all unconsciously to her- self, it found its way into her soul, and revived the crushed plant of courage and bruised flower of hope. The sense of impotence which had as- sailed her in the presence of her enemy grew less. Her strong will asserted it- self. It could not be possible that, in this house, filled with people, among whom she was free to move as she pleased, into whose ears, too, unforbid- den, she might pour the story of her wrongs, that this monstrous injustice could be perpetrated. She had heard of some people being shut up in mad-houses; but that was different. They could find no one to listen to the truth. Grey Oaks was not a mad-house. Why, the very servants would rise up to bring her help and de- liverance. She rose and bathed, and freshly dressed herself. Finding in her roon. all her old belongings, she chose a dress of white flannel for her morning cos- tume. She met no one as she came down the stairs. . Going into the conservatory, she broke off two or three creamy roses and fastened them at her neck. Never, thought Allen Layton, had he seen so exquisite a picture as she made when entering the dining room, where he was for the moment sole occupant, standing in one of the windows, and gazing out on the sloping, oak-gemmed lawn and beautifully-appointed woods. Her footfall, gentle as it was, dis- turbed his reverie. He turned and came quickly toward her, his own face flushing warm with pleasure. Never before had he seen her but in her deep mourning robes. This gown, only less pure in hue than the exquisite skin, with the lovely roses nestling at her throat, revealed to even fuller perfec- tion the beauty alike of face and form, True, there were dark shadows cir- cling the eyes, and in their grey depths was utter weariness; but it added to, rather than detracted from her loveli- ness. “Miss Markham!” he exclaimed, in a voice which trembled with feeling, and extended both his hands in greeting. The old name sounded strangely from his lips. It was a breath of the old life. She cast one startled glance around the room, to find that they two were alone. Here was her opportunity. She must not lose it. “Tell me what he has told you of me!” she exclaimed, in low, agitated tones, her eyes dilating, her lips quiv- ering. ‘Tell me what he has dared to say! Not that I was mad? He did not tell you that—and if he did, you knew that it was false. Of course, you must have known it; and so, laughing in his face, you answered him?” Looking at her; listening to her low, incoherently-murmured words, a new and terrible fear smote Allen Layton’s soul. Last night she had spoken of “a voice from the dead,” which had bidden her return to Grey Oaks. To-day her whole manner was altered, and altered in a way which made her very disclaimer the most powerful argument for its necessity. Poor child! She did not reason that her excite- ment was her own worst enemy, and put into Randolph Chester’s hands an unexpected weapon. “You grow pale,” she continued. “I have shocked and startled you. But, oh, I hate to tell you! it is too dread- ful!—but last night, I made up my mind to leave Grey Oaks forever. You see, when I returned here, I thought I could preserve the character I had as- sumed. I had no suspicion that Ran- dolph Chester was playing the part ot the spider, to lure the fly into his web, until I fround myself once more within the horrible meshes. Do you wonder I longed to free myself before he drew the threads which bounds me closer, and so made it impossible? Well, I waited until the house was quiet, and then I stole down the stairs and into the library. He was there, and so my plan was foiled. And then he told me his wicked scheme to prove me mad. Oh, Mr. Layton, you will be my friend —you will not let them drive me maa through this most horrible atmosphere of madness in which he will envelope me?” The very blood seemed congealing in Allen Layton’s veins as he listened; but, he struggled to regain his own calm. A pang. nearer akin to misery than any former experience of his life, smote him as he looked on the young and ex- quisitely-lovely girl, in the belief, to which her own words had given birth, that reason, in very truth, was totter- ing on its throne. “My child, calm yourself!” he en- treated. “Your cousin was, indeed, thoughtless to breathe to you such a fear. But you must not let it trouble you, nor must you fancy yourself, in any sense, a prisoner at Grey Oaks. You are free to come or go, as you please.” “Then let me go!” she interrupted. “I would not, of my own will, stay here another hour. Oh, Mr. Layton, you do not know Randolph Chester as I know him! You do not know the terrible plot he is concocting! It is not that I am not mad now which is his hope; it is that he will drive me to madness!” She leaned forward and spoke these last words in a whisper, her burning eyes fixed on her companion’s face. “Save me, Mr, Layton—save me from him and from this fate! You told me once, so long as you lived I should not need a friend. Oh, prove good your promise in this, the bitterest hour of my life!” “I will, child—I will!” he answered. And he held his words to his own soul as ar oath. “am I disturbing a tete-a-tete?” called a gay voice from the doorway. Both turned toward it. The speaker was Miss Lorrimer, and close behind her followed their host. ‘An early riser, as usual, dear Beat- rice! I trust you rested well the first right in your old home?” She threw him one quick glance of scorn, vouchsafing no other reply. He looked after her pityingly as she crossed to one of the windows, and stood looking out on the fair landscape spread before her. His question struck Layton strange- ly. He spoke as though no interview, such as Beatrice had described to him, had taken place. Allen felt his own brain grow dizzy in amazing wonder- ment. “Do you find insane people an inter- esting study?” asked his betrothed, as she slipped a white, jeweled hand with- in his arm. The question, the gesture, irritated him strangely. Involuntarily, he shrank from both. Her eyes flashed; her cheeks paled. Corscious of his fault, and anxious to make atonement, he devoted himself at the breakfast table alone to her, cast- ing not even a glance toward the place where Beatrice sat, white and silent. He dared not trust himself to look to- ward her. “I feel rarely well this morning,” said Chester, as the meal progressed toward its close. “I went to bed last night as soon as you left, Mr. Layton; and, do you know, I never stirred until late this morning? It must have been, dear Be- atrice, the soothing influence of your return.” The girl looked up with startled eyes. Truly, she was no match for this arch- plotter! “You talked to. me, then, in your sleep last night, when we met in the li- brary!” she said, with cutting scorn. “I thought you could scarcely be in your waking senses, and am glad you had so good an excuse for the folly of which you were guilty.” ‘An expression of perfectly-feigned surprise swept over Randolph Chester's face. , (Te Be Continued.) BUTTER AT EXPOSITION, Samples for Shipment Are Being Re- ceived. The members of the Pan-American exposition board called upon State Food and Dairy Commissioner McCon- nell at the capitol relative to the state butter exhibit at Buffalo. The mem- bers of the board expressed them- selves as well pleased with the pros- pects of a large. and fine display of tha* ccmmodity. The board requested the assistance of the state commission in looking over the samples which it would receive in a day or two for the May exhibit, and prepare them for shipment. Under the rules governing the butter contests and exhibits at the exposition no samples are to be tested before be- ing sent to Buffalo, which prevents at- tempts at jobbery in sending tested samples for competition. The high standard made by the state butter- makers of Minnesota in the first of the monthly state contests for cash prizes causes the state dairy commis- sion and the members of the Pan- American board to feel that in the con- tests at Buffalo Minnesota will be heard from in a most favorable light. The states farthest away from the exposition grounds are at a disad- vantage in the contest, as it does not tend to help butter any to be shipped such a distance and be handled by strangers, who would not take as much pains in seeing that it receives the right kind of treatment en route and while being transferred to the exposi- tion grounds as those who might be directly interested. BUTTER BANNER. Steps Being Taken to Get the One Awarded Kansas. Steps are being taken to perfect a compromise relative to the prize but- ter banner which was awarded Kansas during the national buttermakers’ con- vention held in this city a few weeks ago. Through a mistake in the foot- ings of the scores made by the differ- ent states in the contest the banner was given to that state. A later re- count showed that the banner was really won by Minnesota. The Kansas people are inclined to the belief that in adding up the footings after the award had been made Minnesota was favored to an extent sufficient to change the total and deprive Kansas of her claimed honors. ‘When the delegation carrying the banner arrived in Kansas there was a general jollification among the legis- lators, and money sufficient was appro- priated properly to encase the banner and place it in the capitol. Those who are seeking a compromise feel that it is hardly fair to deprive Kansas of all her glory and the glass case. For that reason a compromise may be ef- fected along the lines of eliminating certain words from the banner reading to the effect that Kansas made the highest Scoring and let the state still retain the silk flag. It is also possible that Minnesota may be given a banner showing that it really won the contest. GEN. ANDREWS’ ESTIMATE. He Says 70 Per Cent of Indian Pine Is Green, Gen. C. C. Andrews, chief forest fire warden of Minnesota, recently visited the Leech Lake and Cass Lake reser- vations to see for himself how great a trespass had been made on green tim- ber by the logging contractors. Mr. Andrews declares that not less than 70 per cent of all the timber which he inspected at the landings at Elbow lake, White Earth reservation, and at Wolf lake and Pike bay, which includes the Cass Lake district, was “scund and merchantable.” There were enough “unsound and worthless or wholly blackened by fire to appar- ently lend a bad character to the whole.” He is confident that at least 50,000,000 feet of sound timber has been cut during the past winter, and hear- say has it that the total will not fall below 100,000,000 feet. The Indians, he thinks, will not receive full value with- in from $50,000 to $100,000. Gen. Andrews thinks that the timber should be cut along forestry principles —which favors cutting and marketing of mature trees as rapidly as practica- bie, while the young trees are left tg grow. LIFE INSURANCE FIGURES. Assessment Life Socicties Are Yearly Doing a Decreasing Business. According to statistics received at the office of State Insurance Commis- sioner Dearth the business of assess- ment life societies in Minnesota is gradually falling off, while fraternal societies are yearly growing in favor. Statistics for the past five years, in- cluding 1900, show that the ratio of in- crease in the business of the fraternal societies is about the equal of the de- crease of business for the same period of the assessment life societies. The following figures show the de- crease in business of the assessment life societies in the state since 1896: Policies in force. Business done. 1896. 30,826 $53,399, 65 1,31: 4, The following table shows the rapid growth of the fraternal societies in the state since 1896: Number Number Total Societies Certificates Insurance Yew— reported, in force. in force. 1896. iS 29,917 $45,338,600 1897. 4 1898. 83,465,134 1899. 122, 165,650 1900 . 146,116,000 Mangled by a Train. Beverley, Iowa, May 3.—Joe Bucta, a twelve-year-old boy of this place, was mangled under the wheels of a train at Cedar Rapids. It is feared his injuries will prove fatal. Fined for Mlegal Sales. Ellsworth, Wis., May 3.—Dan O'Con- nell of Waverly was arrested by Sher-’ Glass recently for selling lquor without a license. He was fined $50 and costs, amounting to $75.50. ¥ SELECTING NEW DEPOSITONIES. State Treasurer J. D. Block Exer- cises Great Care. State Treasurer Block is exercising the utmost care in the selection of new depositories for state money. The last legislature made a change in the old law, which necessitated Treasurer Block notifying the old depositories to be ready to turn over to him at a day’s notice any and all funds which they might have on hand that he might re- deposit them in accordance with the new law. At the same time he sent the banks blank bonds, other papers and a copy of the law making the changes in the old system that they might comply with them if they chose anc become depositories under its re~ quiremerts. ‘New bonds are required and the state is further indemnified by’ larger securi- ties, with extra precautions thrown around them in the interest of the state. The securities furnished by the barks in compliance with the amended law are scrutinized very closely by ‘Treasurer Block and Attorney General Douglas. The slightest flaw in the pa- pers results in their being returned for correction.e Every precaution to protect the state is taken, the respon- sibility of the individual securities on the bank’s bond being investigated very closely by firms which make that work a part of their business. ‘Treasurer Block has received sixty- seven answers from his circular letters sent out last week asking old deposi- tories to make out new bonds. Almost half of them—thirty-one—were found to be defective. In some of them the mistakes made in complying with the provisions of the law were glaring. In numerous instances the war tax stamp had not been canceled at all, or, if they were, it was not done in the right way. In others the papers were not properly certified to and names of officers of the bank, and even the no- tary public attesting the papers, were omitted. In several instances a notary had not been employed at all. All such papers have to be returned to the banks for correction, which greatly retards the work of complying with the new law. But Treasurer Block hopes to have the new deposi- tories designated within the next ten days, when he will call in the money in the old banks and redeposit it in the new ones. STATE’S DEGENERATES. Statistics for April’ Show an In- crease Over 1900. The monthly report of Secretary Jackson of the state board of correc- tions and charities giving the popula- tion of the state institutions shi vs that on April 30 there were 6,317 in mates of these institutions, as com- pared with 6,090 a year ago. The in- crease for the year 1901 was largely in new insane patients, 93, and 14 addi- tional convicts at Stillwater. The state reformatory shows a decrease of 10 from last year. Speaking of the aggregate increase, Secretary Jackson said it was attrib- utable to the fact that the state does not get its normal degree of degener- ates until it grows old. An increase can be expected for the next few years. The population for last April, with comparisons for a year ago, are as follows: April 30. 1900. 1902. St. Peter hospital... sees 940 938 Rochester hospital. -+--1,125 1,110 Fergus Falls hospital......1,266 1,337 Anoka asylum eoee 100. 119 Hastings asylum........... 100 120... Total insane. +++ 8,581 3,624, Soldiers’ home oeee, 266 © 286 School for deaf. cooees 238 266 Schoo! for blind. sess (8h 83, School for feeble-minded.... T16 759 Public school..........+.+. 233 265 Training school. seeeees 369 394 Reformatory .... ooo 159 10 Prison . . ecocces 497) Om Totals . «++ 6,090 6,317 Increase . to eee ee MONEY FOR THE STATE. Monthly Remittances to Treasurer Block From Institutions, Seventeen of the state institutio! have remitted $27,139.29 to State Treas- urer Block, being receipts received during April. The largest item, $20,- 961.97, came from the penitentiary at Stillwater, of which $14,775.96 was the proceeds from sales of hemp and twine. The amounts sent Treasurer Block are as follow: State hospital, St. Peter...... $407 74 St. Cloud normal school. ... 193 40 Training school, Red Wing. . 626 83 Fergus Falls hospital...... 178 72 Penitentiary, Stillwater 20,961 97 Winona normal school 601 52 Anoka state asylum. . 12 50 Moorhead normal school. University of Minnesota. Hastings state asylum... Mankato normal school. ... Dairy and food commission... Fines, game warden.. School for the deaf. School for the bi:nd. Feeble-minded school. Story Is Ridiculous, New York, May 8—James J. Hill, president of the Great Northern rail- road, denies the report that a plan was formed three years ago by J. Pier- pont Morgan, the Goulds, the Vander- bilts and himself for the consolidation of the great railroad systems of the country, and that it is about to be car- ried out. Mr. Hill said: “The story is ridiculous and entirely unworthy of any serivus attention from anyone.” Tarkish Exclusivenesa. Constantinople, May 8. — An official — cireular has been issued to the mem- bers of the diplomatis corps that in companied by a diplomatist will be ad: mitted tothe selamlik. Plague Patient Cured.