Grand Rapids Herald-Review Newspaper, August 3, 1901, Page 6

Saas cone Sere CHAPTER IV. (Continued.) “I will take him with me," she thought. “No doubt he will make a @cene in the church—kill Philip, per- haps, in the presence of everybody. I don’t care if he does. I am not re- sponsible for the acts of a madman!” She rapped again, sharply, no answer having been given to her first knock. But still there came no answer. Mr#. Martin knocked a third time, Jouder than before; but no sound came from within. She “Aen tried the door, and found it was Yocked, and had just Mfted the carved handle of her parasol, that she might try a louder summons, when her daughter Bertha, who was impatient to start, cried out: “I don’t think Uncle Robert is in his room, mamma. I saw him at the front @oor nearly an hour ago. He was dressed in all his best, and I guess he’s gone to the wedding by himself.” “So much the better,” thought Mrs. Martin, darkly. “He must have haa some plan in his crazy head, after all.” She was hastening toward the car- riage, and was just stepping in, when fome rew thought crossed her mind, and she turned toward the house again. “What is it, mamma?” exclaimed Bertha and Letty, in one breath. “Just to leave my parasol, girls. I'll have no need of it. I forgot the car- riage.” She entered the house, flung the para- sol on the first chair she came to, and quickly glided again to the door of her | brother's room. This time she did not knock, but, bending her head, listened intently at the keyhole for some moments. There was a look of perplexity on her face, and she murmured: “He can’t be there—He must have gone!” Still more closely she placed her ear @o the keyhole, and held her breath ‘while she listened. The silence was broken by Letty’s ‘voice, tremulous with tears. “Why don’t you come, mamma? It ‘will be all over before we get there!” Mrs. Martin saised her hand with an impatient jerk. “I can’t make it out!” she said. ‘And she hastened from the house and Anto the carriage, directing the coach- man to drive quickly, and reassuring her impatient daughters the next mo- ment: “We have abundant time. -a few minutes after eleven.” The coachman made good time, but there was a goodly crowd within the church when Mrs. Martin arrived, and led in her two pretty daughters. As they walked up the aisle on their way to the pew set aside for the rela- tives of the bridal party, the elder lady kept a sharp look-out for her brother Robert. He was not in the pew to which she ‘was ushered, nor could she see him anywhere in the church. Presently the bride entered, leaning ‘on the arm of the groomsman: and the bridegroom, with a well known fash- fonable belle as chief bridesmaid; then, bringing up the rear, a grand proces- sion of extra bridesmaids, with their partners. In a few minutes Mrs. Martin, feel- {mg dazed, as though all she saw must be unreal as a dream, heard the words It is only of the marriage service, but her gaze | roved in every direction except toward the altar. She saw no sign of Robert Grayson ‘anywhere. However, the crowd about the door was very dense, and he might | easily be there, although she could not | wee him. A little stir at the upper end of the ehurch drew her gaze in that direction, and she saw that the ceremony was ever; the brief prayer and benediction hhad been pronounced, and the happy pair were surrounded by congratulat- fing friends. ‘ \Aarice was Philip’s wife—irrevoca- bly his wife now until death should part them. Mrs. Martin bit her thin lips until the blood almost started, and then, as Phil- ip Grayson, with his pale but lovely ride leaning on his arm, came slowly | and proudly down the aisle, she left the | pew and followed them. Philip Grayson and his wife had just passed over the outer threshold, when from the crowd outside a man pushed his way through, and, standing before them, spoke one word: “Clarice!” Swift as at a voice from heaven, the bride lifted her downcast eyes and fixed a wild look on the speaker; then, with a cry that would ring forever in the ears of those who heard it, she tore herself from her husband's grasp and fell, fainting, into the outstretchea arms of Shirley Ashton. A scene of wild confusion followed. Grayson snatched his newly-made wife from the arms of the unwelcome | Antruder, bore her to the carriage and ‘ade the coachman drive home. A low laugh of triumph burst from | She had never be- | fore seen Shirley Austin, but she un- | Kate Martin’s lips. @erstood the situation at a glance. “This is better than I could have ar. ranged it,” she thought. “All is not lost yet.” “Come, girls,” she said, aloud, to her @aughters, “I will leave you-in charge of Mrs. Farnham. There wiN be no ‘wedding breakfast, I fear, but you can follow later, if you like. 1 must hasten to your Uncle Philip to comfort him, and to attend to the guests. him at home.” Almost as she spoke, Mrs. Martin was in her carriage, and, swiftly as Philip Grayson had been driven, she was not more than half an hour behind him. Several guests had already arrived, and had been shown into the breakfast room, where they awaited the master for the gcene at the church had been so sud- d@an and #0 auickly over that only those and mistress of the house; JD Fatale. ncn x liharriage. I fear there is likely to be some trouble for ELIZABETH CAMPBELL. aed who stood close by knew just what had happened. Mrs. Martin found the hall door standing wide open, but not’a servant in sight, and, unnoticed, she entered and proceeded directly to Philip’s study. He was not there. She then hastened toward his dressing room—for she knew the house well, and could have found her way, unaided, to any room in it. No one opposed her, for here, aS on the lower floor, not a servant was to be seen, the reason being that some account of the scene in the church had already reached them by way of the coachman, and they were all crowded below stairs discussing it. Mrs. Martin tried the door of Mrs. Grayson’s dressing room, which opened to her touch, although no one replied to her knock. She entered softly, clos- ing the door after her. In less than five minutes she came out, with a wild, excited face, from which every vestige of color had fied, while the slight sprinkling of powder {and rouge that she always wore, only served to make her look more ghastly. She glanced up and down the hall, and gave a sigh of relief at seeing no one; she then went down stairs as. quickly as her trembling feet would carry her, holding tight to the bannis- ter as she ran. Wren she had reached the lower | floor she summoned all her energies to | aid her, and’ rung a violent peal on the first bell-pull she could lay hands on. A servant came running up stairs in haste, and looked confused at meeting her angry gaze. “Is no one attending to.the door? What are you all about? I shall cer- tainly complain to your master.” “Oh, I beg pardon, ma’am. We all thought James was here, as usual—the wedding day, ma’am—please excuse us. We're a little flurried.” “That is no reagon why the front door should be standing wide open, an” not a servant to be seen. Where is Mrs. Grayson?” The girl scarcely understood at first. “Oh, our new mistress, ma’am? She is in her own room, ma’am. She would not even see Ma‘amselle Leonce, her own French maid.” “Your master, then. Grayson, instantly.” “None of us would dare disturb mas- ter just now, ma’am.” “Very well. When I tell him so, you may take the consequences. Show me to his recom. I will take the responsi- bility of disturbing him.” ‘The servant obeyed the imperious command, but Mr. Grayson was not in his own apartment. “The dressing room opens out of this room, I suppose?’’ “Yes, ma’am; but there’s another door that opens on the hall.” “Very well. Show me the door.” It was but a step further, and Mrs. Martin knocked loudly; then, receiv- ing no answer, she threw open the door and entered. Befcre she had taken three steps into } the rccm she uttered a loud scream, and aimost fell against the terrified girl. “Lord, ma’am, what is the matter?” “Look! look!” screamed Mrs. Mar- tin, po‘nting with outstretched hand toward an appalling sight. Philip Grayson was lying in the mid- dle of the floor, his head in a pool of blood, and his white, strong face and fixed, wide-open eyes staring up at | them. I must see Mr. CHAPTER V. A Mystery. When the momentary stupor of | amazement was over, the horrified ser- | vant was the first to make use of her voice. With half-articulated expressions | of terror the girl ran shrieking from the room, her alarm increasing instead of growing less as she fled from the shocking sight. Hysterical and terrified, she was soon in the midst of her fellow servants, and in a few minutes it was known to every one in the house that Philip | Grayson, who had been the master of | it, lay up stairs, foully murdered. | There was a scene of wild confusion— | guests shocked and distressed, women fainting, servants gossiping. And all this while the newly-made mistress of the mansion remained in her own room, the door of which was still fast locked and bolted, the last to learn of her sudden and terrible widow- hood. | ‘With an irrepressible shudder, Mrs. | Martin turned from the sight of the | dead face. Hardened and cruel though she was, both by nature and experi- | ence, her heart sickened and her brain reeled at the realization of that which but an hour before she had eagerly de- sired and even hoped for. Feeling that every vestige of natural color had fled from her face, she tore oft the thin tulle veil she always wore in public, and hastily wiped'away her | false compiexion. The ¢elicate, perfumed handkerchief that she used was one of many that |hed formed a part of the splendid | gifts presented to erself and her | daughters by her ev2r-gercrous broth- | er Ph‘lip. whe now Jay, as she had so | often of Jate wished to see him, dead before her. Was it that token of his constant thoughtfulness, or was that she was not really so callous or so stony-heart- ed as she had believed herself to be, that explained the sudden moisture which rushed to her eyes and flowed down in scalding tears over her pallid cheeks? With a great effort she summoned back something of her cvstomary com- posure, and walked toward the stairs; but her limbs scarcely served to bear her; she reeled, as one stricken with vertigo, and clung to the bannisters for support. “Could it have been Robert?” she thought. “Oh, heaven, I hope—I do hope it was not! One murdered, the other a murderer! I must be weaker than I thought. I could not bear it!” Then she heard the confused mur- mur of the voices from the hall below, and saw a crowd of people at the foot of the stairs, many of whom were try- ing to press their way upward to the floor above. The sight of the people and their evident intention steadied her nerves more than any effort she had been able to make. “Pray be calm, ladies and gentle- men,” she said, in a distinct, firm voice. “No one must come up here at present. I cannot allow any one to en- ter my poor brother’s room. Has any one thought to send for a physician? I entreat that some one will oblige me by doing so. Mr. Grayscn may not be dead. A physician must be summoned at once. Ah, Mr. Morley,” recognizing an acquaintance among the crowd, while she continued to slowly descend the stairs, “let me beg that you will notify the police! A shocking crime has been committed, whether the re- sult be death or not. Pray attend to that part of this awful business for me, as you see I am almost quite over- come; but I must insist that no one attempts to come near the room until 2 physician has first entered it.” On inquiry, it soon appeared that Mr, Grayson’s personal attendant had al- ready gcne for that gentleman’s regu- lar physician, having been one of the first to learn of the tragedy up stairs from the hcusemaid who had given the alarm, and, while Mrs. Martin was yet speaking, Dr. Sprague was Seen push- ing his way through the excited crowd. He reccgnized the speaker, whom he had once or twice seen at her brother’s house, and addressed her at once. “Let me be shown immediately to the apartment of Mr. Grayson,” he said, advancing toward her. “It may not yet be too late.” “Certainly, sir,” Mrs. Martin replied, gravely. “I will conduct you there myself, Dr. Sprague.”’ She had by this time quite overcome her previous agitation, but she was careful to show the proper amount of emotion in connection with so horrible a crime, as well as a sisterly grief for the loss of a beloved brother. She preceded the doctor toward the scene of the tragedy and, having sur- mounted the feeling of horror that nearly overcame her when she reached the dressing room, she resolutely turned the door knob and pushed open the door for him to enter. She then followed him; but as she neared the rigid form and once more beheld the deathly-pale face, with its ghastly background of blood, she be- came faint, and caught at the nearest chair for support. She gladly sat down, turning her head away from the tragic scene, and buried her face in her handkerchief. Dr. Sprague proceeded to examine the condition of the prostrate form be- fore him, and instantly pronounced the unfortunate man to be dead. The examination was, indeed, a mere form, for a single glance at Philip Grayson’s face told that he had left the things of this world forever behind him. “Mr. Grayson has not been long dead —scarcely more than half an hour,” Dr. Sprague said, turning to Mrs, Martin. “The body, though rigid, is ‘scarcely yet cold. How long is it since the fatal occurrence was discovered, madam? Of course, I mean as nearly as you can guess. It may be of importance to know.” ‘ Mrs. Martin answered by first look- ing at her watch. “Not more than half an hour, accord- ing to my estimate,” she then said. “T was the unfortunate person to make the discovery. I will relate the circum- stances as briefly as possible.” Again glancing at her watch, she continued: “It is now half-past one. The cere- mony was over before twelve o’clock, for I remember noticing the sound of the church clock just 2s we were leav~ ing the church. My brother took his bride and carried her away with the utmost haste, for she had fainted, in consequence of a shocking and painful scene between herself and a former— friend.” Mrs. Martin made a long and signifi- cant pause before uttering the last word, and then spoke it with a sudden gasp, as if it had been jerked out of her. Her next words were spoken rapidly, as if she wished her listener to observe that she had no desire to dwell on so painful a circumstance. “There is no need for me to speak of the matter now, Dr. Sprague, and I only refer to it that you may under- stand my brother’s. haSte to remove Mrs. Grayson from the public gaze, and also to explain my own anxiety to follow him; for I knew that I might be able to offer him advice and com- fort that none else could give. There- fore, I left my daughters in charge of a friend, and my carriage immediately followed that of my brother. Unfor- tunately the coachman, desirous of making the journey shorter, went out of the usual way, and encountered a funeral procession, which somewhat delayed us. “Ah, me! It was a Sad omen on a wedding morning, and too surely de- noted that I was hastening to grief and misfortune. But, pardon me, doctor— you will think me a foolish, supersti- tious woman. But all this has been a great shock to me. “As I was saying, some time thus was lost; but, allowing for all delays, I could not have been more than half an hour later than my brother in reaching this house house—possibly not even so long as that.”. “Good heavens! So| short an inter- val,” and the house full of guests and servants—it seems incredible! And how was this interval of time spent by Mr. Grayson? Have you any idea as to that, madam?” “Not the least, sir, I know nothing except what I have learned from the servants, and the little I have been able to piece together from my own ob- servation. On arriving I found the door standing open, and not a servant in sight. Anyone might have entered and ransacked the house, judging from appearances. “As soon as I could succeed, by & peremptory summons, in bringing a servant to attend to me, I asked for Mrs. Grayson. I was told that she was locked in her own room, deaf to all en- treaties to open the door, even for her husband, so far as I could make out. Whether there had been angry words between her and my brother I cannot tell, not having yet made any inquiries on that subject. “On being denied access to Mrs. Grayson, I ordered the servant to show me to my brother’s room. The girl was at first afraid to take the responsi- bility of disturbing her master, but on being assured that I would bear the blame if he was angry, she at length accompanied me. “And this’—Mrs. Martin spread out both hands with a gesture of horror and despair—“this, Dr. Sprague, was the sight that met my eyes! Oh, pray excuse me, sir, but I cannot maintain my composure when I think of it, and see him there, Iying dead, murdered, before me—my kind, generous brother, always so good and thoughtful for ev- ery one.” A shudder convulsed the woman as she concluded, and tears dimmed her cold, bright blue eyes. Dr. Sprague, although somewhat im- patient of the long-winded recital to which he had listened, and partly aware that much of it was elaborated for his benefit, was, nevertheless, touched by the dramatic style of its delivery, and more still by the tokens of grief with which Mrs. Martin had broken down at the end of it. He spoke soothingly and kindly to the lady, who, in the presence of gen tlemen, retained her old-time art of pleasing, and then he said: “To me this dreadful affair seems to be wrapped in mystery. But one thing seems pretty certain—the crime could not have been perpetrated long before the time when you discovered it. The murderer may not have left the house. My advice would be, madam—if you will allow me to give it unasked—that you will lock this door,-and give up the key only to the detective who will be put in charge of the case. In the mean- time Mr. Grayson’s legal adviser should be sent for immediately, in order that he may ke here when the police arrive. Mr. Grayson’s desk, safe, private pa- pers—in fact, everything in the room— should be sealed for the present, and the proper person to do this is the law- yer.” “Oh, thank you—thank you, doctor! You are so kind and so thoughtful to think of everything for me! Fortun- ately, I know where my brother's law- yer—Mr. Baldwin—is most likely to be found. His office is only in the next street, and he can be here in five min- utes. I will give orders that a mes- sage be carried to him immediately.” Dr. Sprague was already in the act of leaving the room while he spoke, and Mrs, Martin accompanied him into the hall where, in his presence, she locked the door, removed the key, and then tried the door, showing that it was securely fastened. The key she held fast clutched in her hand, and then, accompanied by Dr. Sprague, she moved slowly a little way down the hall toward the stairway, but both remained where their eyes could rest on the closed door which shut in the dread sight of murdered Philip Grayson. There was now no difficulty in ob- taining the attention of the servants, for every domestic in the house was congregated either on the stairs or in the hallway below. Mrs. Martin quickly gave her order, and the Swiss valet, Carl, who had been the first to think of Dr. Sprague, hastened away in search of the lawyer. The gentleman to whom Mrs. Martin had intrusted the task of notifying the polige had already gone personally to obey her behest, having first dismissed the company, the greater part of whom went gladly as soon as they had re- covered from the shock of such a ghastly and unusual interruption to a wedding party. A singular and almost appalling si- lence now succeeded the previous hub- bud of excitement, while all i breathlessly for the arrival of the 1&w- yer and the police before any effort could be made to penetrate the mystery of the murder. Occasionally a hushed whisper could be heard among the servants, but as the sound startled even those who made it, all efforts at speech of any kind soon ceased, and the silence grew more gloomy and tomblike. Suddenly it was broken by the shrill and terrified voice of a woman, and Mrs. Mowbray, wild with terror, pushed past the servants at the foot of the stairs, and, despite their efforts to restrain her, rushed up the steps to the landing. above. She was closely followed by Brian Mowbray, her husband, who was also agitated, but calm in comparison with his excited wife. They had only arrived, having gone home first, after witnessing the wed- ding ceremony, because Mrs. Mowbray insisted on seeing that her daughter's various trunks and other belongings were properly sent off to her new home. She had been distracted with grief that the wedding breakfast could not have been eaten at the bride’s home, but determined that everything else should go right; and now the news had met her from the crowd outside the Grayson mansion, who were telling va- rious yersions of the recent tragedy within, seemed to have almost turned her brain. Briar, Mowbray, better able to control his agitation than his delicate wife, was using all his influence to prevent her from making a scene; but it was too late. The poor woman, temporarily crazed with fright, had burst all bonds of restraint, and was far beyond the reach of quieting words. “My child, my child!” she cried, in piercing tores, “is she dead? Have they killed her? Who could have the heart to do it? Oh, my poor child, my own little girl! My pretty Clarice! I was sure something awful would come of it —it was a monstrous sin—a crime, that she should have been forced to marry one man while she loved another. I said she would do something desperate. Oh, my pretty girl, my pretty girl! Will I never hear her sweet voice again? Where is she? Where have you put her? She will speak to me, her mother. Perhaps she is not dead yet. I know she will speak to me, for she loved me. Yes, yes; she always loved her poor mother. She was such a good girl— such a gcod girl! And we were so cru- el to her! Monsters! Monsters!” Wildly, as the insane rave, the poor woman kept on repeating the same words over and over again—a perfect torrent of frenzied language, intermin- gled with groans gnd cries, poured from her lips in such a that it was hope- less to attempt to stem it. But presently Mrs. Martin gathered, Sa from her wild words, that her exctte- ment was caused chiefly by some mis- understanding of the facts that had taken place. With the resolute quickness that characterized her on all occasions of emergency, she was by the side of Mrs, Mowbray in a moment, and with a few words had calmed the mother’s frantic excitement. Placing her strong, white hand on Mrs. Mowbray’s shoulder, Mrs. Martin said, in firm, quiet tones: “Your daughter is well. You have misunderstood what has occurred. It is my poor brother, Philip Grayson, who has been murdered.” z Mrs, Mowbray ceased wailing and calling on Clarice instantly. She did not at once take in the full meaning ot rs. Martin’s words, but she under- stood, vaguely, that her daughter was safe. “Your brother—Philip Grayson!” she repeated, in a dazed manner; and then, suddenly comprehending, she burst into tears. For some moments she wept, In a weak, hysterical way, and then she spoke, calmly enough: “I’m sincerely sorry, Mrs. Martin! What a very, very shocking thing! And my poor child, Clarice—let me go to her. How does she bear up under suct an awful ¢a- lamity?” “Well we don’t know yet,” Mrs. Mar- tin returned,, with a degree of con- tempt that she took no trouble to eon- ceal, “but, in view of your,late re- marks, we cannot reasonably expect your daughter to be much overcome by losing a husband’ whom she was forced to marry while her heart be~ longed to her more favored lover.’” Mrs. Mowbary flusked hotly that her own words were being flung back at her, and by one whom she felt, instinct- ively, was an enemy to herself, as well as to Clarice. She could have bitten her tongue with vexation that it should have waggea so indiscreetly. And Mrs. Martin had spoken in so loud a tene that her words had been heard by all the servants, as- well as by Dr. Sprague, who had been standing close beside her. It was already evident that all who: had heard her words, and Mrs. Martin’s spiteful repetition of them, now put their own construction on them, and Mrs. Mowbray had a vague feeling that, in some way, she had done her daughter serious harm. That she had actually directed suspi- cion toward Clarice by supplying a rea- son why the bride would gladly have rid herself of an obnoxious husband, did not suggest itself to her silly brain; but Brian Mowbray was quicker to in- terpret the meaning of the looks and whispers that were now being’ ex- charged by those about them, He speedily reached his wife’s side, and, seizing her hand, drew it forcibly within his arm, where he held it with no gentle pressure. “Be silent now,” he whispered, in a hoarse, angry whisper. ‘Heaven knows what harm you have already done with that silly tongue of yours. Keep quiet, and do no more!” His angry words and manner passed unnoticed, for at that moment the po- lice arrived, and while everyone made way for them, the attention of all pres- ent was centered upon them. So extraordinary and unexpected a crime, together with the position and well known wealth of Philip Grayson, had created a sensation, even on the police force. (To Be Continued.) Mr. Root Hard to Interview. Clever reporters who know Secretary Root fight shy of interviewing him. One of the famous scribes of a New York daily said: “Interview Root? That’s very easily said, but almost impossible to do. I have tried a dozen times, and every time he interviewed me without my knowing it.’ * On one occasion a Washington polf- tician alluded to some street brawl in Cuba as a riot. His statement was promptly questioned by a friend, and he turned to the secretary and said: “It may have been only a brawl, but I know that wherever there is a smoke there is fire.” ‘The secretary looked up quietly and remarked: “Which you suppose to be the case with your Havana?” When president of the New England society, some one asked Mr. Root: “Why is it that although all good New Englanders are said to go to Par- is, in reality they go to New York?” The secretary thoughtfully respond- ed: “I presume they go to Paris to die, but to New York to live.”—Frank Les- lie’s Weekly. Punning Catches. Little vunning catches are apprect- ated by a good many people. Here is an old one that is good: If a father gave one of his sons 19 cents and the other 6 cents, what time would it be? The answer is: “Quarter to two.” And here is one of more recent birth: If a postmaster went to a menagerie and was eaten by one of the wild beasts, what would be the hour? Perhaps you will have to think this over a little. Yet the answer is very simple. It is 8 p. m.,”" of course. And here is the latest yet: If a guest at a restaurant ordered a lobster and ate it, and another guest did the same, what would the latter's telephone number be? It would be 8: '—Cleveland Leader. Bric-a-Brac. “I saw a piece of bric-a-hrac to-day,” prattled the woman my wife, “and al- though it was extremely ugly, I did not buy it. I wished first to consult with you. Can we afford it, dear?" I struggled briefly but fiercely with my conscience, and resolved to Ite to her. “No,” said I. . The joyous light in her great gray eyes was, my sufficient reward. “Oh, how sweet of you ‘to say so!” cried she. “I shall order it sent up to- morrow.” d ‘And such her trust in me that I have no doubt she will always highly prize this article of vertu.—Detroit Journal. They Were Boys. “Any musical instruments?” the as- sessor asked. “Two,” the tired-looking citizen re~ Washington Chat. Special Correspondence. There is no lagging in the census office work during the sweltering sum- mer solistice. Director Merriam remains at his post, and is watching the daily progress in every division of his vast department as closely as a railroad engineer, with his hand on the throttle, determined to make good time and come within the schedule. Congress has set the limit on the cen- sus, and ft must be completed im less than one year from date. Merriam re- alizes this, and, notwithstanding the hue and ery that is going to be set up from the government printing office, in- sisting that the printed reports will never be issued between now and the 1st of next July, Mr. Merriam is calmly and complacently certain that he will clear up every iota of the work ane have a weeks or so to spare. PR Secretary Root’s sudden suspension of his order for the convening of a spe~ cial board to examine into the reor- ganization of the military posts of the United States, is something of a mys~ tery. In this connection, it is inti-* mated around the departments that there is friction between the secreta- ry’s office and Gen. Miles, who, as com- manding officer of the army, has to be consulted on all important changes. It may be stated positively will be one of the points strongly urged as a suitable place for the school of military tactics. The old reservation is ample, and, several years ago, when the Min- nesota legislature offered to purchase the tract for a state historical reserva- tion, Secretary of War Lamont refused, saying that the time would come when the department would require all of the reserve land. There is great rivalry for the selec- tion of military training reservations, many offers of lands gratis having been received by the department., The final selections and appropriations to carry the scheme into effect will be subject to the ratification of congress. Owing to defects in existing laws, an important decision has been reached by Secretary Hitchcock of the interior de- partment, which will, for the present, seriously affect the efforts of persons in many states who are advocating @ liberal extension ef the nation’s forest reserve system. It is: not improbable that the secre- tary’s present attitude will operate somewhat against a favorable report by the department on the suggested plan for a reserve and national park in Minnesota. The secretary has determined not to favor setting apart more forest re- | serves. until congress has so modified the laws relating to selections by set- tiers: and land grant railroads of lands on other portions of the public domain, in lieu o ftheir imeorporation in forest reserves: It appears that the government in all cases finds the public domain en- |. croached upon by these selections, and after the timber is cut off the valuable lands the govermment obtains in re- turn useless mountain peaks and des- ert tracts in exchange for other lands that are selected by claimants. Plans and: specifications for an im- | proved water system at the Fort Yates Indian school, North Dakota, on the Standing Rock reservation, have just been completed by the Indian bureau, | and bids will be advertised for in a short time. ‘The controller of the currency has- authorized the First National Bank of Alexandria, S. D., to begin business with a capital of $25,000. ,W. D. Knapp is named as president and W. L. Ry~ burn as cashier. A postoffice has been established at. Stirum, Sargent county, N. D., with Earl Albertson as postmaster. T. Jones: has been appointed postmaster at Lint- | on, Emmons county, North Dakota, vice J. A. Corbin, removed. On Sept. 2 a rural delivery route is:to, be established from Dennison, Goodhue county, Minnnesota, with Andrew Flem. a@s earrier. The route is twenty-five mites long, covering, an area of thirty square miles, and serves 138 houses, or a population of 621. Upon the inaugue ration of this service the postoffice at Wangs will be discontinued, and the office at Sogn will be supplied by rural’ earrier. The postoffice at Wastedo will! be supplied by rural carrier from Can~ non Falls. Land Commissioner Hermann’s orden,. suspending entries made under the tim- ber and stone forest reserve scrip, will! result in hundreds gf protests coming, in from Minnesota, where most of the claims are legitimate. One Washington. land atterney, who has had charge of many cases for the Duluth and Ash- land districts, said that it was unfair to delay patents on lands where an act~ ual, bona fide case had been proven». He admitted that there are fraudulent entries, but for every case of crooked. werk there are at least ten straight, and te compel settlers and purchasers: to await the outcome of the fraudulent cases seems very much like a-diserim— imation. 5 What purports to be a report from Capt. Mercer, of the Leech Lake Indian agency was shown to Indian Commis- sioner Jones. recently, and ha stated that no official reports had yet beem received from Mereer concerning the late dead and dowa operations, and one could not be filed until the rescaling operations had been carried out. Mr. Jones took exception to the pub~ lished statement that politicians con~ trol matters im Washingtca relating to the Indian office. The report appeared in a Duluth paper, and came from the reservation. The Missouri river, im adopting & new channel, has cut away almost the whole of Howell’s island three miles below Missouri City, Mo. The island was one of the largest in the river, and contained more than 1,000 acres of rich corn land. A gravel train used in the construc- tion of the traction line between Day- ton, Ohio, and Trow for ‘the Dayton & pied. Nerthern Traction company was “what are they?” wrecked north of that city. Two deaths “Both beya”—Chicago Reeord-Her- | ana ier serious injury of four persana, : ‘ ~~ | resul ald, ’ \