The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, March 22, 1896, Page 15

THE SAN FRANCISCO CALL, SUNDAY, MARCH 22, 1896. 15 Q0000000000eeccces e o 000000 £ +0000000000000:! LTHOUGH having nolegal claim to the title, San Francisco was once, to 21l intents and purposes, the capital of California. The Governor had his office, both hou§es of the State Legislature held their sessions and all the business pertaining to the management of “affairs of state’” was transacted here. Most of the old-timers who were middle-aged at the time have passed away, but those still living remember the circumstances well. It all happened in that memorable year, 1862, the first day of which broke so | Taxpayers’ Union. It provided for “‘the ominously. Clouds of war hovered over | general quieting of title on all outside the Nation, and large sections of Cali- fornia were being devastated by the ac- tions of the elements. Hundreds of people perished in floods and thousands were brought to the verge of starvation through the ruin wrought to their ranches and homes. When the Thirteenth Legislature met in Bacramento on January 6, 1862, things were most discouraging. The city was partially flooded and the American River was still rising. Streets were like lakes of liguid mud and it was almost impossible for the statesmen to get from their hotels to the legislative halls. On the 7th, 8th and 9th of the month the rain came down in torrents and the rivers kept crawling up higher and higher. Stanford was inaugurated Governor. It was a most dismal affair, in spite of the efforts of those present to put off the de- pressing effects of the gloomy, tenacious dampness. Only ten ladies were present as it was impssible, on account of the weather, for others who intended to come to leave their homes. There was no in- augurdtion ball, as that night a flood came down upon the city ani there was several feet of water in the streets. The next day, the 11th, the legislators went to the Capitol in boats and were so discouraged that the Senate, by a vote of 20 to 13, adopted a concurrent resolution toadjourn tke meeting of the Legislature to San Francisco for the remainder of the session. The Assembly refused to concur by a vote of 36 to 40. This caused great re- joicing among the people of Sacramento, who feared that if the seat of government was once removed from their city it might never be returned. The Senate then took a temporary adjournment until the 21st, by which time the members of the Assem- | District Court for “disloyalty and viola- bly bad changed their minds, so that on | the 22d both houses agreed to adjourn to | San Francisco. As soon as the affair was settled the statesmen acted as if their lives depended | on getting out of town as quickly as possi- | ble. Less than two hours elapsed after the passage of the resolution before the steamer Chrysopolis started down the river with some 100 out of the 120 members on | a blue one. An argument ensued in which board. In addition there were the families | Hardy referred to the American flag as “*A of some of the members and an army of clerks, so that the vessel had aboutall it could carry. There was not accommoda- tion for more than half the number, but all seemed to take on new life at the pros- pect of getting away from the rain-soaked | nected with the case was brought against capital. The next day, the 22d, the few remaining statesmen followed, accompanied by the On the 10th Leland | AN on the floor, as many members made an attempt to speak at the same time. The chairman rapped for order aud the specta- tors cried, *‘We have money enongh for both,” *Let us stand by our country if it tages our last dollar,”’ etc. When the question was at last put toa vote it was carried by & large majority and the State Treasurer was ordered to pay the money “at once."” For several weeks the session wasun- eventful ' until President Shafter intro- duced a bill in the Senate on behalf of the lands and the 1ssuing of grants to all par- ties who would make actual improve- ments.”” The idea of the bill was to over- come the effects of land-grabbing. Many men had filed on 160-acre tracts of lands within the grant of the Pueblo of San Francisco, and were simply holding on to them as an investment. The Taxpayers’ Union was composed of some of the best business men in the City, who thought that everybody should bave a chance io secure & home without paying an exorbi- tant price. They simply intended to carry out the spirit of the old Mexican law. A great deal of thought had been spent | on the bill and 99 out of every 100 people | in tne City wanted to see it pass. Crowds filled the streets while the debate was on. As the weather was warm the windows of the Senate chamber were open, so that ntany of the speakers could be heard in the yard of the United States Custom- house across the street. It was impossible for vehicles to pass along Battery street, s0 dense was the crowd that cheered, groaned or hissed, accoraing to the way the utter- ances of the speakers suited them. The taxpayers made a hard fight, but the land- | owners, to whom the passage of the bill | meant ruinfmade a “‘money fight” in the | lobby with the result that the bill was | beaten by a small majority. The excite- mert that prevalled when this was an- | nounced beggars description. People al- | most trampled over one another in their | | efforts to get into the building, and could | | the men who voted acainst the bill have | been found there is little doubt but that | they would have sustained bodily harm. | | Within a few days, the Senate was called | upon to sit as a nigh court of impeauh-’ ment to try Judge Hardy of the Sixteenth tion of the oath of office.” It seems that Hardy was a strong Southern sympathizer | and was liable to be bitter in his utter- | ances against the United States Govern- | ment. While coming down the river on the steamer he saw a Union soldier and | made disparaging remarks about his uni- | form. He told the man that if he had any | sense he would wear a gray suit instead of | dirty rag.”” He said that if he had one at the moment he would tear it into ribbons and throw them into the soldier’s face. The trial of Hardy was a long one and it is said that evidence not directly con- him, vrincipally the little strategy to which he resorted to avoid trying Terry { for the killing of Broderick. Intense feel- | desks, chairs, etc., belonging to both bouses. They arrived in San Francisco | discussion of the case often led to personal ing prevailed among the people and the WHERE THE ASSEMBLY [From a MET. sketch.] early the next morning and at once pro- ceeded to the Exchange building on Bat- tery street, where desks were hurried into place, and by 11 0’clock both bouses were called to order. The Senate was given | quart-rs which were afterward occupied by the United States District Court. and the Assembly was located in the Cirenit Court room, which was the larger and more con- venient. The session that followed was Jong and exciting, and at times became strongly dramatic on account of the intense feeling prevailing as a result of the war. There were many men in the Legislature who were Southern sympathizers, although they made efforts to conceal the fact, and when any question came up that called for support of the National cause there was sure to be strong language, and on several occasions personal encounters ook place. One of the first bills before the Senate was a proposition to pay at once the v\:ar tax apportioned to California by lh.e Na- tional Congress. The debate was a violent one, as those members who had a friendly feeling for the South attempted to prevent the payment by ull sorts of excizes. The tax was $254,538, and these members pointed to the destitution caused by the floods prevailing in many parts of the State as & reason for deferring payment for atime. They said $250,000 would go a long way toward relieving the suffering people, while it would be very little in the vast sum needed 10 carry on the war.. 3 At such times greatexcitement prevailed encounters of a violent character on the streets. ‘ Judge Hardy, however, was not particu- larly disturbed during the trial, although it meant a great deal to him. He referred to the matter as a joke, but never admitsed that he dian’t mean what be had said. The verdict was, of course, against him, and after the furor had subsided that fol- lowed its announcement he rose in his seat and thanked the: court for not finding anything against his honor. “While I deeply regret,” he said, “‘that I have met this humiliation, I accept the verdict and relinquish my office. But,”” he continued, “I am of the same opinion still.”” | A great patriotic demonstration followed | the night after the verdict was announced. Bonfires were built in the principal streets and speeches were made by the most prom- inent men. Everybody cheered and swore allegiance to the Union until long after midnight, and there was no more fuel to feed the bonfires. The next exciting business of the Legis- lature was also due to partisan feeling caused by the war. Itseems that at that time a law existed on the statute-book similar to one in force in the Southern States. It prohibited a person of more than one-eighth negro blood from testify- 1ing in the courts of justice. The war had, of course, stirred up feeling against it, but it was brought to a climax by several acts of a criminal character. The first case was that of a white man employed by J. E. FRANCISCo- Brown, a colored man who kept a livery stable on Washington street. The former, on being discharged, in re- venge poisoned: the latter’s horses with strychnine. From circumstantial evidence it appears that he put the drug in the man- gers on Saturday night, and on the follow- ing Sunday, when the horses were out on the road, they fell sick and died. Inall twenty-six horses were poisoned. The pufchase of the strychnine was traced to the discharged man, and he was seen to go into the stable by George Dennis, also & colored man, whose evidence, of course, could not be given in court, so the culprit was discharged. The next case happened while the Legis- lature was in session. It wasone in which a negro barber named George Nichols, who had a shop under the old Tehama House, was killed by a young man named Shell. The only person who saw the shooting was another barber named Cowes, who had always passed for a white man. But his hair was examined under the microscope by Dr. Toland and the roots were found to be curly, This marked him as more than one-eighth negro and his testimony was barred, while the murderer was set free “for want of evidence.” George Barstow, a member of the Assem- bly, introduced a bill to repeal the obnox- ious law that permitted a criminal to go news on the bulletin board. Frequently we had to adjourn on account of some great disaster to the Union forces, as we were all so cast down that we couldn’t do business. There were less Southern sym- pathizers in the Assembly than in the Senate, possibly because we were younger men.” There are very few of the old citizens who cannot recall the session of the Thir- teenth Legislature. George K. Fitch re- members almost every day’s proceedings and thinks the demonstration when the Taxpayers' Union was making its fight was as exciting as the days of the Vigi- lantes. Mr. Fitch is of the opinion that the tax- payers’ fight was not a failure as the fol- lowing session of the Legislature passed a law that gave the City a certain portion out of every thousand acres. It is to that law that the starting of Golden Gate Park is due. It was the intention to take sev- eral large sections in different parts of the City, but the scheme was not found practicable for some rea- son. “There's a peculiar thing about that fight,” said Mr. Fitch, “and that is that those men who had land tien ana fought the bill have no land now. It also seems strange to me that such an import- ant and turbulent part of the City’s his- tory should be aimost unknown to the younger generation. And I really believe there is not one man out of a hundred un- .der forty years of age in the City that knows that the California Legislature ever met in San Francisco.” THE ART OF FINDING GOLD. Sclence Is Oftentimes Apparently at Fault. “Prospectors who have been searching the mountains for years hold to a maxim that gold is where you find it. They have found formation theories so much at fault and have seen fortunes made so often by men who go directly against science that their ideas have been much shaken.”” The Present Appearance of the Room in i Which the Senate Held Its Sessioms. [Sketched, by a “Call”’ artist.] unpunished, and it went through without opposition. But when it came to the Senate trouble commenced. Many of those statesmen held the view that me- groes were not as good as a white man and that Goa had created them so. One rather boisterous member got up and baring hisarm to the elbow pointed to the veins and said: ‘“‘See that Anglo- Saxon biood in there. It is not like Af- rican blood. It has come to me through a long line of noble ancestry and I would in- sult my race if I acknowledged that it was no different from the blood of a negro.” The little saily brought forth rounds of applause, until a very small member got up excitedly and cried: *“No! It's not like negro blood ; but if you examine your | noble ancestry you will meost likely find they were robber barons, cutthroats and pirates.” This squelched the other mem- ber, hut when the bill was put to the vote it was defeated. | ‘While the Legislature was in session the | citizens of San Francisco exerted them- | selves to the extreme to entertain the | mempers. There was at least some big | social function every week, and the ladies of the City held several fairs for the bene- fit of the flood sufferers. The largest re- ception during the session was given by Mr. Maynard in his elegant residence. Nearly all of the members were in attend- ance, and it is said to have been one of the | grandest social eventsin the City’s history. The Thirteenth Legislature did not fin- ish its Jabors until May 15, 1862. In addi- | tion to other work it made arrangements for a.capitol building fund and ordered changes in the foundation of the present building, then in course of construction. It was discovered that when the flood was at its height what was intended for the first floor was seven feet under water. The adjourning of the Thirteenth Legis- lature to San krancisco raised & most important point of law, and there is still some doubt as to whether the laws then passed are legal. Many eminent lawyers of the time said the Legislature had no right to adjourn here and that they were doing their work for nothing. How- ever, none of the laws then passed have had their validity attacked. Of the 120 men who formed the Thir- teenth Legislature only five S8enators and fourteen Assemblymen are still living, as far as can be ascertained. Following are their names and the counties they then represented: Senate—P. A. Gallagher, Calaveras; W. P. Hamman, Placer; O. B. Powers, Solanc; Benj. Shurtleff Shasta; F. M. Wauncastle, San Joaquin. Assem- bly—S8. C. Biglow, San Francisco; James E. Brown, Santa Clara; Juan Y. Cott, Monterey; J. M. Cunnard, Butte; J. H. Dennis, El Dorado; J. G. Dow, SBonoma; F. M. Lane, Stanislaus; A. C. McAllister, Marin; Thomas Brien, Calaveras; Thomas B. Shannon, Plumas; E. B. 8mith, Sierra; John W. Van Zandt, San Mateo; C. E. Wilson, Sutter. = Out of those living Thomas B. Shannon and 8. C. Biglow reside in this City. Mr. Shannon's memory is remarkably clear in regard to the-events related, and he speaks of the Thirteenth Legislature as if it met yesterday instesd of thirty-four years ago. “['ll tell you,” he said, when speaking of it, “‘the Thirteenth Legislature didn’t do much in a political way. It| didn’t elect a. United States: Senator, but it was a session- that was a session. We were kept on the jump all the time and the people were nearly al- ways with us. The thirteenth was a ses- sion in a class by itself, because it had a different kind of business than any oth session that ever convened. All the time we were sitting we were on the watch for news irom the front. Whenever the mem- bers did not show up in time you could count that there was some important war speaker was Stephen B. Pratt of Denver, an old mining man, who was at the Min- ing Exchange-yesterdsy. > “The first seitlers on the present site of Denver,” he continued, *‘were gold hunt- ers, who found gold in Cherry Creek, and stopped there for a long time trying to find a place where it woula pay. Ever since the men, have found Cherry Creek and its tributaries to have gold. In the panic, when so many men were thrown out of employment in Colorado; a good number of them made a bare living by washing out gold almost in the heart of Denver. “Nobody could make these deposits pay, however. The gold was rusty and emall, and attention was given to an attempt to find where the original gold had come from. Some men finally found some ground in Newlin’s Gulob, about twenty HE misadventure by which I .in- nocently assisted the escape of Thomas Quigley, whose crimeisso familiar to the older persons living hereabout, was not . altogether in- excusable, for had I known as much then as now I might not have gone astray. Still, when I reflect upon the inexplicable mystery of the typewriter, and the strange confusion and entanglements into which it led me, I fail upon uncertain conclusions with regard to my matured estimate of that famous case. It was under the following circumstances that I met Quigley and the man whom he afterward murdered: I took the train at Salt Lake City- for San Francisco, and on the following morn- ing, when I went early into the dressing- room of the car, I discovered two men sitting there fully dressed and talking very earnestly together. They did not discover my entrance at once, but when they did they were evidently embarrassed, and sat in an uneasy silence. It might have been possible for me to hear:a little of what they had been saying had I listened, but I had heard nothing and had been present but a moment. Afterward I accounted for their confusion on the ground of their uncertainty concerning the length of time I might have been an eavesdropper. Igave so little attention at that time to their odd behavior that it made only a very ‘slight impression. Having a way of seeing with- out looking, I became conscious of quick signs which they made and which I con- strued as having reference to me; but I cared nothing for that. ; They soon resumed their talking, and when I had finished my toilet I took a seat opposite them, next to the window, and addressed some indifferent though civil remark to them. The larger of the two responded promptly; the other remained silent, with a’pair of dark sharp eyes, deeply shaded by the visor of a black traveling cap which he wore. Had it not been for their strange recent conduct I should not have studied them so narrowly. The two men sat side by side, the smailer near the window, to-which, I afterward re- membered, he kept his back constantly turned. His features were fine and per- fect, his drooping mustache hardly é¢on- cealing a thin, shrewC mouth. His man- ner mighf have been taken to be satur- nine and surly, but at that time it seemed to me to have a habitual air of being bored. His companion was his opposite in every respect. Though not a very large man he was larger than the other, having a very florid face, reddish hair and deep red mus- tache, and uncommonly large hands, heavily freckled and covered with coarse hair. His blue eyes were frank and pleas- ing; he faced the light openly, talked freely and was clearly a man of a large and hearty iemperament. He was constructed on much ruder lines than the other and lacked the other’s refinement, but he was far more comfortable a companion. Although there were no introductions and no names were spoken in the strange conversation which soon ensued, I saw that a valise on the tloor at the feet of the smaller man had painted on it the name, “Thomas Quigley.” I was not aware that ing me with a shifting, uncertain glance, “that such a machiné may take on the character of the person who operates it and betray the peculiarities which distin- guish him?” “No,” I answered, smiling; “but that seems as incredible as this gentleman’s anecdotes.” “Doubtless. But let us reflect a mo- ment. Take a writing-machine for illus- tration. A typewriter hasa complicated mechanism, and as, unlike a steam-engine, it has no power except that which the operator gives from his own personal re- sources, its efficiency is wholly dependent upon him. Its delicate bars and levers, made of highly tempered steel, are highly sensitive. In the wideand complex range of impulses which they receive from the operator their molecular constitution must undergo specific modifications which the distinctive individual touch of the ope- rator imparts. There will ensue a definite rearrangement of the metallic crystals, bearing an absolute relation to the tem- perament of the operator. s not this con- ceivable?” “It at least is interesting,”’ I answered. “But granted that it is true, how can it be proved and what purpose could the knowl- edge serve?”’ “Knowledgs,” he rejoined, *is not to be despised merely because no use for it may appear. As_ for testing the matter, Ido not care to take the trouble, but I can imagine that a very sensitive and highly organized person might learn something of the character of a writing-machine’s owner by making. a close study of its peculiarities. This is my experience. I use a typewriter very much and find the use of my machine easy and pleasant, but I know that with a strange machine, in all outward respects identically re- sembling mine, my thoughts stumble and the work is laborious.” IL I was suddenly summoned one day about a week after my return to San Francisco to write for one of the newspapers an analysis of the published disclosures of a singularly ferocious and mysterious murder that had been committed two days before. The facts were exceedingly meager, the prin- cipal discoveries being these: ¥ A strong, florid man for a few days past had occupied a room in a lodging-house on Market street, the noisiest thorough- fare in San Francisco. He was free and hearty of manner and had gone out a good deal. He had.paid for a week’s lodging in advance and had given no name, or if he had the landlady could not remember it and a search of his valise failed to give any clew to his identity. except a card which bore the rame, “Thomas Quigley.” 1 his did not recall to my mind the indi- dent of the strangers on the train. The man drank heavily. One morning the chambermaid found a card pinned to the door of his room, saying that he did not wish to be disturbed that day. The card remained there a!l that day and the next. Toward evening of the second day the landlady, becoming uneasy, tried to rouse her lodger and then to open thne door, but found that impossible. Upon attempting to peer through the keyhole she saw that it had been covered by some- = Z “ AT THE FERRY = | G Wk % ) N o 2 fv > WE NEARLY -RAN INTO THE BIG FLORID MAN.” miles from Denver, and began to make fair profit. “While they were working this deposit an old German prospector, whose name I | have forgotten, happened to come along. He looked at the sand the miners were working with the pan, investigated for a few days, and then bought out a lease which the miners bad from the Govern- ment. As soon as he gained control he began to dig into a clay bank near by which the others had not thought to work. He had not gone in very far before he found what bad evidently been the bed of an old river that had been disturbed by some sort of volcanic action. 'There he found gold and last fall he sold out his mine to a syn- dicate for what was a large fortune to him. “The cost of mining is being cheapened constantly by the discovery of new meth- ods,” he said. ‘“The Independence mine at Cripole Creek, for instance, has worked at a cost of four cents on every dollar’s worth of ore extracted. Out in California free milling ore has been worked for fifty cents a ton, while hydraulic placer bodies have been wotked for fifteen cents a cubic yard, or less than ten centsa ton. The ! cheapening of production, of course, means that many fields that have been considered unprofitable can’ be opened up.”—New York Times. I had noticed this fact until certain, sub- sequent happeningsrecalled it to my mem- ory. The only part of our conversation which is relevant to this story 1s that which I shall now report. In this talk the men showed in sharp contrast. The larger man was bold and adventurous in his ideas, but crude and ignorant: thie smaller man was keen, lucid and profound, handling the most abstruse matters with a wisdom that was none the less attractive because his manner was half-sneering and whoily cynical. v Our talk bad drifted to those strange phenomena which, with the ignorant, give birth to a belief in supernatural agencies. 1 had mentioned the superstitions of some marine and Jocomotive engineers with re- gard to the complex machines which they hanaled, when the florid man boldly an-- nounced that he firmly believed in such things and related strange incidents of their occurrence. When he had concluded his stories the small man, who had lis- tened with a sneer on his lips, made the following statement: “All this is very interesting, but quite absurd. Nevertheless, he is a bold man ‘who will attempt to explain all the things peculiar to complicated machines. Has it ever occurred to you,” he asked, address- thing hune upon the inner knob, but sne couid see that the doorkey had been re- moved. From this she inferred that the door was bolted on the inside. These cir- cumstances alarmed ‘her and she sum- moned a policeman, The officer burst in the door and was confronted with a scene of uncommon horror. Not only had there been a mur- der, but the body had been dismembered and comminuted with extraordinary pains. This work was so complete that bad not the landiady and the chambermaid fur- nished so clear a description of the lodg- er's appearance the identification would have been impossible. No one but him had been seen about the room. There were various minor circumstances that gave me a little working ground, but as the whole case was apparently an un- solvable mystery it was with no light whatever that I set about a study of the published accounts. It happened tbat my typewriter had broken down the day before and thatI had sent it to the agent for repairs. So I sat down to the unaccustomed task of think- ing with a pen, but could make no head- way atall. The chaos of the murder was supreme and overshadowing. My nerves ‘went astray. my patience broke down and 1 left the task. Still, I hated to give it up. It occurred to me that possibly my typewriter, which helped meto think with ease, might have been repaired. I hurried to the shop and was told that the work had not yet been completed. X 3 “However,”” said the agent, “I can lend you a new machine."” I'shook my head, feeling that without my own instrument I could do nothing. “I have just remembered,” said the agent, “that I have on hand an old ma- chine of this make which I repaired a few days ago for a stranger, who has not yet called forit. It is as limber and easy as yours. Give it a trial.” It is impossible for me to explain why I decided to make the experiment, for it was not the stiffness of the new machines. that had kept me aloof from them. And yet the 1indescribable feeling which clamored within me for my own machine broke down before the suggestion that a particu- lar strange machine be given a trial. The temptation to discuss this part of the whole mystery is very strong, but not stronger than my ability to resist it. I sat down to the typewriter, adjusted & piece of paper to the carriage and tried the mechanism. All the external features of the machine indicated that it might hava been my own, and yet the very lirst touch of a key was a shock. I persisted and ran a sentence through. I -had tried many strange machines before, but never one so harsh and rebellious. At first I took it for a stubborn and alto- gether unnecessary refusal to help me think. ~Instead of lending me that assist« ance it confused and bewildered me, caus ing my wits to escape restraint and my spelling and misuse of words to be atro- cious. This impression was so much stronger and more exasperating than any that I had ever before received from a strange machine that I came near com- mitting what I then supposed was the error of charging the typewriter with the confusion 6f my own mind. No sooner, however, had 1 taken what I deemed to be the wiser course in accepting a responsi- bility which 1 could not imagine belonged to the machine than a most surprising thing occurred. All at once, after I bad forced the , machine under approximate control and had adjusted a fresh sheet of paper upon which to write whatever I could regarding the mysterious crime (though with no idea whatever with which to follow up an introductory state- ment of the known circumstances), the machine suddenly became extremely friendly and feverishly hurried me into an inexplicable account of two men who had met on a westbound train at Ogden. The apparent irrelevancy of the narrative did not cause me to stop. It was only when I myself was brought by the ma- chine in contact with the men in the dressing-room of a sleeping-car, and the name “Thomas Quigley’’ glibly spelled it- self out from the machine, that I, with profound amazement, found myself under the control of an influence which was as inexplicable as it was irresistible. What assistance 1 may have received from the machine I'do not find it at all necessary to discuss. I felt simply that it had put me in the way of solving the mystery. The first thing that appeared clear * (after the typewriter had made me re- member the name Quigley as I had seen it on the valise and heard it from the re- pairer of writing-machines) was that this machine was then or very recently bad been the property of Thomas Quigley. Had it not bgen that the typewriter was rushing me forward witn the narrative of | the two men and myself on the train [ should have gone instantly to the repairer and asked him for a description of the man who had left it with him. But it happened that before the supposed solu- tion of the mystery was reached the type- writer fell into a dumb mood and would yield nothing more. Then I went to the repairer, and was not at all surprised to learn from him that the person who had brought the machine to be repaired was a small, dark, saturnine man, with a forced manner of speech. My elation over the news may be im- agined. Still, when I returned to the machine to complete the narrative (which was a very different thing from the analy- sis of evidence which I had started out to write) I discovered that, although the cause and circumstances of the tragedy were clear enough to my imagination from inductive reasoning, I could not force the instrument to assist me in their coherent presentation. I blundered, faltered and found the typewriter alien and antago- nistic. Up to this point I had written nothing of an analysis of the published accounts of) the murder, but had squandered all the time on a narration of the sleeping-car ine cident. The typewriter had failed to be responsive at the moment when the narra« tive was ended and the deduction required. It then became necessary to cease afq tempts at writing and do some hard think- ing. To weigh the men and publish a' guess of the guilty one might prove more dangerous than difficult. Then I reflected that apart from the garrulity of the type- writer and the shadowy coincidence be tween its testimony and that of the re-, pairer and the lardlady, I had no ground, upon which to stand. There was no evi-' dence tbat the florid man of the lodging- house was Thomas Quigley or that the story which I had been so glibly drawing from the machine had any connection whatever with the murder. More than all that, the sudden cessation of the type-! writer’s assistance was strange and inex. plicable.” The longer I pondered on that coincidence the more bewildered T becama and the more astonished that I had been led unaccountably into the assumption that the ‘perverse little machine haa been assisting me with the mystery. All these reflections served to dishearten me and I ended by believing that T had been mak- ing myself ridiculous in my own estima- tion. 8till the idea recurred to haunt me. It was difficult to believe that I could have been 80 greatly misled. A careful reading of the s which I bad so beedlessly reel ofi the typewriter disclosed its re- markable b ~and coherence and an abundance ¢ etail which had not “to personal experience and to m .which T did not éven remember to have written, ' 1§ revealed this situation: Thomas Quigley, a rich mining operator, had fallen in at Salt Lake with a strancer,, not named in my narrative, and they had, proceeded in company to San Francisco as traveling acquaintances. The stranger represented himself to bea man of large means in search of some promising invest« ment in the West. As Quigley had bnsi~i ness reasons for not desiring to be con | - Continued on Sizteenth Page. £