Nebraska Newspapers

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. L. WILLIAMS1
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C. L, WILLIAMS,
We are making Fresh Candies
daily. Come and see.
VOL. IX.
NORTH PLATTE, . NEBRASKA. WEDNESDAY, - DECEMBER 13, 1893.
NO. 49.
MODEL
CLOTHING
11
Great Clearing Sale!
FOR CASH ONLY.
$20,000
Worth
of
Goods,
- Such as. Clothing for Men,
Boys and Children, Gents'
Furnishing Goods, Hats
Caps,- Boots and Shoes,
Will be Sold at
CTTTZL COST I
Nothing" "will be reserved in this sale. "Every
thing goes AT COST FOR CASH ONLY. Now
is your time to buy .goods according ro the times.
Model : Clothing : House,
Mas: Ejinsteira., E'xopxietox.
I
North Platte National Bank,
NORTH PLATTE, NEBRASKA. .
3?aid up Capital,
&75,000.
O.r.-IDDINQB,
A. T. STREtTZ,
DIRECTORS:
O. M. CAItTEB,
M. C. LINDSAY,
H. OTTES,
J. W. BAKER.
K. OBER8T,
A. D. BOCK WORTH.
All business intrusted to us bandied promptly, carefully, and at lowest rates.
G F IDDINGS,
, LUMBER, I
i j
j COAL, j
i i
Order by telephone from Newton's Book Store.
Dr$N. McCABE, Prop. J. E. BUSH, Manager.
NOETH PLATTE PHARMACY,
. . Successor to J. Q. Thacker.
ISTOHTPI PLATTE,
ISTEBiRA-SBZ-A..
WE AIM TO HANDLE THE BEST GRADE OF GOODS,
i i i ! mm P II . i i I i ii . i i i . i
3ELL. THEM AT REASONABLE PRICES, AND WARRANT
EVERYTHING AS REPRESENTED.
orders from the country and along the line of the Union
Pacific Railway Solicited.
XT. J. BROEKE Tl,
Merchant Tailor,
03LBDE!-Ci.3XrH3Ft. Jk TNT 3D H DEJ XP JB. I H. 3E 23.
LARGE STOCK OF PIECE GOODS,
embracing all the new designs, kept on hand and made to order.
PERFECT FIT GUARANTEED.
PRICES LOWER THAN EVER BEFORE
Spruce Street, between Fifth and Sixth.
THE CASINO BILLIABD HALL,
J. TirJjRACE, Proprietor.
SUPERIOR BILLIARD and POOL TABLES.
Bar Stocked with the Finest of Liquors.
A QUIET AND ORDERLY RESORT
Where gentlemen will receive courteous treatment at all time3 and
where they will always be welcome. Our billiard and pool hall
not surpassed in the city and lovers of these games can
be accommodated at all times.
i A Transferred Identity.
By EDITH 8ES8I0H8 TUPPEB.
Copyright, UN, by American Pree AmocIa
tlon.1
CHAPTER XTX.
OBLITERATION.
I ran down the path, through the gate,
nr even stopped till 1 was under the
widespreading shade of the moss laden
trees. The mist wrapped me about; the
rain beat against my face. Afar in the
distance I heard the sullen bay of the
bloodhounds and the shouts of the pur
uera. 1 did not realize my danger,
never thinking that one false step might
plunge me into the morass, from which
it would be almost impossible to extricate
myself, but stumbled on, hoping" to come
up with the others. JBut their voices re
ceded farther and farther. -I called, but
received, no. answer. Blindly I struggled
on, groping and feeling.my way, until, at
last the appalling truth .burst upon me
that I was Iost:in;tkat awful place!
I stopped and reflected upon the grav
ity of the situation. It was nearly night,
and there was a dense fog- shutting me
in. Portia and the servants at the house
would believe me to be with Colonel
Marchmont, and of course tho latter and
Maurice, if they gave me a thought, sup
posed I was with Portia. If the fog did
not lift, or if I could not summon relief
by calling, I should be forced perhaps to
spend the night in the swamp.
I dared not move. I put out my hand
and caught at the branch of a tree.
Faintly through tho fog I could discern
bits of the ugly morass stretching every
where about me. The only thing for
me to do was to stand still and cry aloud
for help.
This I did again and .again, but there
was no response. At length, frightened
and unnerved, I leaned against the tree
near, which I stood and burst into tears.
"What shall I do?" I moaned aloud.
"What shall I do? Must I spend the
night in this fearful place?"
Did my senses deceive me? Had Igone
mad, or did thero come from out the
thick fog close by me a burst of laughter,
slirill, harsh and mocking.
My heart stood still as I listened.
Yea, there was no deception. Again that
taunting, wicked laughter.
"Who what is it?" I stammered, and
my tongue was thick and my lips parch
ed as I faintly articulated the words.
"It is I," answered a voice through
the drifting fog, "it is I your old friend
Portia or rather Sidonie,"
"Sidonie!" I cried, "where are your
"Not far away," came the taunting
voice, "but I shall soon be much far
ther." "Oh, Sidonie," I implored, "come to
me. Let me take your hand. I have
good news for yen. Portia has forgiven
you everything and sent me hero to plead
occasionally give, a kind little smile so
a fussy.old'fellow like me?"
I smiled faintly;
"That'sright. I like to see you smile,
Prudence. It lights up your' plain, se
vere little face and makes you beautiful
in my sight."
"Beautiful!" I said contemptuously.
"Yes, beautiful!" he retorted. "Not
with the classic beauty of Portia's face
nor the diabolical witchery of that poor
creature whose beauty was her ruin, but
the beauty of goodness, kindness, loyal
ty and bravery the heauty-of holiness,
little woman. Prudence," gently lifting
me in his arms and kissing meenderly
on the eyes, "do you know those clear,
truthful eyes have looked down 'deep
in my heart? I love you. Will you be
my wife?'
It is said joy never kills.
I saw a white upturned face.
with her husband on your behalf. Come.
You know the swamp. Lead me out, I
beg, and I will hasten with her message
to Colonel Marchmont."
Again that burst of fiendish laughter.
"Come to you take your hand lead
you out!" came tho voice; "impossible,
you poor little gray moused I cannot
bother with you. I am going on another
errand."
"Oh, do not leave me, Sidonie,"-! im
plored. "Do not leave mo hero in this
desolate place alone."
"I must" -How strange Jier voice!
Was it dying away?- 'r
---Com6 back; come back!" I cried in
terror.
"I cannot I cannot goodbj' good
by" Scream after scream broke from my
lips as I realized that she was leaving
me. I .was well nigh insane with fright:
Just then the fog parted like a curtain
before me, and there in the black morass
at my feet I saw a white upturned face,
which seemed to fling a defiant smilo at
me as it slowly sank from sight in tho
ooze and horrible slime.
Then, as if clutched from beneath, the
long black hair outstretched upon the
filthy water was dragged down.
One slim, white hand remained an in
stant, fluttering like a broken winged
bird.
Then it was gone!
CHAPTER. XX.
LOVE.
When they found me lying against the
tree staring like a dead woman at the
fatal spot where a life had been oblit
erated, they lifted me tenderly and car
ried me like a child back to the house
and my room.
I did not weep. I did not faint nor
grow hysterical, but I was like stone. I
seemed to have no sensation or volition.
Over and over I saw that fearful sight.
Over and over I heard that burst of
mocking laughter.
The climax to the nervous strain under
which I had been for weeks' nearly de
throned my reason.
What saved me?
Love.
I was lying on the broad conch before
the open fire in the library staring in
the glowing coals, seeing there again
that hideous picture, when the door gen
tly opened and Maurice entered.
He bent over me and-said gently:
"Poor little brave fighter! You had
to succumb at last, didn't you? Coura
geous little Bunker Hill! When I con
sider the fortitude you fchave displayed
for "weeks, 1 am filled with admiration.
To think of all the horrors you have en
dured to be capped by that fearful ex
perience in the swamp well, well," he
paused as if unable to proceed.
"But," he continued after a moment's
silence, "we can't have our crack war
rior laid low. No, indeed. Just tell me
how this plantation will be run, who
"Will jou be my iclfcf'
Tho words I had longed to hear were a
balm to my sick and tired heart, I wept,
and the tears did me good.
I had never known love nor congenial
companionship. I had never dreamed
thoy could come into my colorless exist
ence. And yet jny heart-was as young
and fresh as a girl's and responded to af
fection as a thirsty flower extends its
cup for a drop of dew.
Love and happiness were mine atlajK
Heaveu was in my hands.
When Colonel Marchmont nnexpect
edly entered tho room a few minutes
later, he paused confusedly, murmured
an apology -and turned to go, when
Maurice drew me to my feet, and lead
ing me up to our host said in tones of
mock solemnity:
"Jermyn, a most astounding geograph
ical phenomenon will be witnessed some
time witliin the next six months. Bunker
Hill is to be transported to tho shores of
Lake Ponchartram. Congratulate me!
CHAPTER XXI.
BACK FP.6li TUB DARK VALLEY.
Portia did not die. Slowly, laborious
ly, she struggled back from tho valley of
the shadow .of death. For weeks her life
hung "by a thread? but tender care, de
votion and love snatched, her from the
verge of the grave.
Only the ghost of herself she appeared
when at last she was able to be dressed
and carried.down stairs to the library.
Her feeble joy at being home once more.
the pathetic- happiness which-fhohe
her great eyes yes, even the tender lit
tle caresses she gave nor favorite books
and cushions were indescribably affect
ing.
The meeting between herself and her
child was sacred, load prepared Daphne
as best I could by telling her that mam
ma had been very ill indeed; that -she
must ask "no troublesome questions, for
some day when she was old enough to
understand everything should Ira ex
plained to her; that her mamma's heart
was full of love for her, and sue need
never rear sue would oo scolded or
slapped again, then tookher to the door
of her mother s chamber.
Portia was bolstered up by a small
army of pillows, her sunken cheeks
lighted by a feverish glow, her languid
eyes brimming with a mothers love.
Colonel Marchmont sat bythe bed,,hold
ing one' wasted handr
I opened the door for Daphne and
drewsback as the child crossed the thresh
old. x t heard a half -suppressed cry, a
rapturous exclaniatioh.a rush oftiny
. feet, and I know thatlin that sickroom
was a little bitrof heaven. - "
Strangely enough, Daphne at once said:
"You'vo been away such a long time,
mamma, I thought you were never com
ing back." ,
i Sho obeyed "hstoctions "andf never
asked any questions,' but ,'ever after re-
'f erred 'to the time "when.tnamma-was
away."
At first Portia did not seem to remem
ber what had befallen her. She appeared
conscious of having passed through some
hideous experience with Sidonie, the de
tails of which were veiled in obscurity.
We pressed her as little as possible on
the subject, trusting that with returned
health she might be able to recall the
most important points of her long and
cruel captivity.
And so it "came to pas's as we had
hoped. Ono radiantly lovely twilight
we sat upon, the piazza. Portia, pale,
languid, but still beautiful, wrapped in
soft filmy white shawls and laces, was
reclining in -her great chair. Maurice
lay in a hammock,-idly- purling a cigar.
Colonel Marchmont sat by Portia, care
fully watching her every expression and
anticipating her every want
The sun was just setting in royal pomp
and splendor. Long banks of fleecy
purple and crimson clouds were piled in
the western sky. A mild breeze was
springing -up, raining the tall, nodding
lilies standing in huge jars along the
"piazza and lightly lifting the little rings
of hair on the invalid's brow.
She drank in the scene and the soft,
delicious air. She sighed in ecstasy, and
smiled at each of us in turn.
Suddenly she. spoke. .
"Oh, how good it is to be alive!"
Her husband lifted her hand and kissed
it, with intensity. -4
"I remember it all"now," she said
slowly. "Yes everything. It has been
coming back to me little by little.. I
have pieced together all those dreadful
episodes, and the whole frightful story
is before me". I know you are all long m
ing to hear it"
"Dearest, noP' -interrupted her hus
band hastily, "not until you are. quite
well and strong. Don't agitate yourself,
I beg."
"l am well enough now, Jermyn," she
gently replied. "I am well enough to
tell you'about "it. I think it will be a re
lief to me."
"Very well then, dear one, if it is your
wish."
"Jermyn," she said solemnly laying
aer uauu upon uis neau, i nave Known
for years that Sidonie worshiped you. I
discovered this just before our marriage,
when one evening I came upon her in the
library passionately kissing a rose which
poke lindly and, tenderly to. her. You
know how I always loved Sidonie. I can
never forget the agony and despair in her
face and her voice as see cried out that I
had ail in life, she nothing; that' she
prayed and longed for death; that she
cursed the hour she was born. Oh, 1
pitied her I pitied her," and Portia's
Voice shook with sublime compassion.
There was silence for a few minutes.
Then she resumed her story:
"After that I was more indulgent and
considerate than ever to Sidonie. She
was given greater liberty. I intrusted
her with many" little commissions, hop
ing that a busy life and a certain amount
of responsibility would be some compen
sation forher sad fate. But she seemed
to grow more and more imbittered and
despairing. At last, a few days before
our marriage, she disappeared.
"Do you know," she said, looking ear
nestly at us, "I alwayB hoped she would
not be captured? While I shuddered at
the' thought of what her fate might be
with her fiery temper and her inordinate
vanity,. stiU it was a relief to me not to
see her, and I fancied that perhaps she
wo&d, be liappier under different en
vironments. Her value as a piece of
property never occurred to me.
'In! my new home and my new life I
soon forgot Sidonie, though often a re
membrancoof her waywardness' and her
beauty would drift in my thoughts. I
was often told of my folly in allowing
bo valuable a slave to slip out of my
bands without greater endeavor to arrest
her; but, as T said before, I was relieved
to have her out of my sight.
"When Jermyn was summoned to
(-England two yeare ago, it was with a
dull sensation of apprehension that I
saw him go. " Ah! my dear husband,
never can I tell you my emotion a3 I
watched your carriage disappear. It
seemed to mo that you were going out of
my life"forover.
"You had not been' long away when
one morning Jake came to me and asked
me what ho should do about old Jezebel.
Ho said that she would not remain on
Lthe plantation, but spent her time idling
about m the swamp, occasionally pre
senting herself at the quarters for her
rations, encouraging tlie negroes toshift
less and lazy ways and frightening them
nearly out of their wits by weird prac
tices and tales. He hesitated to punish
her on account of her years and because
to the other negroes sho bore a charmed
life. In fine, he did not want trouble if
it could b'e avoided, and would I give
him orders in the matter. I told him I
would see Jezebel myself and directed
that she be sent to me.
"That evening it was just such an
evening as this I was walking alone
through the grounds. I came to the wall
separating .the plantation from the
swamp. I had always known of this
old gate, but having had no curiosity con
cerning the swamp had never opened it.
Now, as I approached it, I thought of the
old negress, and the audacious idea of
exploring this unknown territory sud
denly entered my head. In those clays 1
did not know fear, and therefore without
any reflection I pushed open the gate and
sauntered -along, tho. path Jeading to the
heart of the swamp. I decided to investi
gate old Jezebel's retreat for myself and
see tho hut 1 Teamed she had built for
her uso, declaring the cabin assigned to
herit the quarters not good enough for
an African princess, as she proudly
claimed to be.
"I wandered on, quite enjo3'ing tho
novelty st my walk. The sun was set
ting, and the last rays darted across the
pines as I entered the gloomy forest. On,
on.iartherl plunged into this wilder
ness and presently came out into tho
open space near Jezebel's hut.
"The old woman was sitting on the
ground before the hut crooning and
muttering to herself. .She looked not
human as she peered up at me through
the tangles of her coarse, matted gray
hair. For the first time I felt a trifle
afraid and glanced around nervously.
But there was no one in sight. Absurd,
I thought. How can this weak old crea-
M u pi! ,
If " r 1 1
wrifl talrA OfO DatirtnA Vtnv-sn
well, look out for Jermyn's comfort and Henfrom Xou"0Tat .Thq discovery
- J shocked me, and yet I pitied her and
.1 opened the door for Daphne.
ture harm me? I spoke to her and asked
her jwhat she was doing there. She only
stared, up at me with bleared eyes and
demanded who I was.
" 'I am your mistress, I said, 'and I
am very much annoyed with 3'ou. I
hear you will not stay at tho quarters
with the other slaves, but insist upon
living here alone. You cannot do this.
You are too old aud feeble. You must
go back to the plantation. It is your
home. I will see that you are made
quite comfortable.'
"A wicked glitter came in her eves.
and she answered that she would not go
back.
" 'Very well,' I said, 'since you refuse
to obey me, I shall send tho overseer
af ter you, and you will be taken back.'
"During this brief parley I was con
scious or a feeling that there was a
listener to our conversation. I heard no
sound, I saw nothing, but I could not
banish that curious sensation of another
presence nea at nand. it was not a
pleasant feeling by any means, and I
turned to go.
" 'Wait a moment, honey.' said the
old woman suddenly. 'Come inside and
de lubbly little house I done got. I
can't go fer ter leab it,'
"Though my judgment revolted, I
nevertheless accepted her invitation, and
stepping through the low door I stood
within the miserable hut. Again that
feeling that there was some one near, so
strong this time that.it amounted to
positive terror. I spoke. 'Who is here?
I demanded.
"Then suddenly there was a rush. I
was seized from behind in a strong
grasp and. thrown upon the bed. I
shrieked for help, but the old woman
quickly tied something over my mouth.
As I was lying face down on tho loath
somecouch, I was almost suffocated. I
knew that strong bauds were securing
mine, and presently, finding myself over
come and powerless, I lost consciousness.
"When I came to myself, I was un
able to rise, being fastened down to this
pallet. I could not cry out, for my mouth
was bandaged. Old Jezebel's hideous
face was bent over me, and in the gloom
I saw another face Sidonie's!
"I knew her instantly, though years
had gone by since I had seen her. I no
ticed even in my pain and terror that sho
was more beautiful than ever, and then
.1 remarked something else. It was this:
She was dressed in the gown I had worn
Into the swamp, and it seemed to have
been made for her.
"I could not understand it. At first I
fancied she had come to my assistance
B' smiled faintly and pleadingly up at
her. But she stared stonily at me and
made no move to release mo. On the
contrary, she bent down and whispered
these terrible words in my ear:
" 'Your day is done. Your identity is
not destroyed, but transferred to me.
You are no longer Portia. I am she. I
return to Swamplands and rulp there,
You remain in Dead Man's swamp to
die.'
"Again I fainted. And after that it is
all like a terrible nightmare a confusion
of harsh words, of bitter drafts, of aw
ful sounds. There were moments of
consciousness when I could see through
the half open door the glare of the red
firelight and dusky forms leaping around
it a frightful eight; when, too, I saw
the faces of my tormentors, Jezebel's
liko a fiend and that of Sidonie sardonic
and triumphant. After many days Si
donie brought a little instrument with
which they pierced my arms and inject
ed their drugs and poisons. I begged
feebly for mercy, but thy showed me
none. But my bodily sufferings were as
nothing comparrd with those of my
mind. When I could realize anything.
I thought of tho wicked deception being
practiced upon my husband, of my child.
Oh, God! it was terrible terrible."
"My darling, my darling," cried her
husband, catching her to his heart, "say
no more. You will only make yourself
ill again. Stop, I beg you."
"There is nothing more to say," said
Portia feebly, smiling with "brimming
eyes and tremulous lips. "There is noth
ing moro to say, only that I am safe and
God is good."
THE END.
A BRILLIANT WOMAN.
Sketch of tho Life of tho Author of "A
Transferred Identity" A Llfo of Acttv
Ity In the World of Letters An Un pleat-
ant Kxperlonco.
Edith Sessions Tupper has the talent,
the industry, tho pluck and the power
of application, that are better than ge
nius and are often mistaken for it. She
has won her high reputation inlitera
ture legitimately and is today as widely
and favorably known as any other writ
er of her sex. Mrs. Tupper is a daugh
ter of Hon. Walter H. Sessions, an ex-
member of congress, and was born at
his home in Chautauqua county, N. Y
nenormai education was received in
the public schools and at Yassar col
lege. She began to write for the Buf
falo Express at an early age, sending it
letters, character sketches and stories.
In 1S87 she launched out for a career
in Chicago, where she soon made a repu
tation by her brilliant work on The
Herald and Inter Ocean. She was the
winner of tho Chicago Tribune's $300
prize, offered for the best long story.
Thero were 200 competitors. The work
has since been published in book form.
She finally removed to New York city,
where she soon took hor place among the
most versatile and talented literary
women m a circle of brilliant journalists
and writers. Since her entrance into
newspaper life she has furnished an
enormous amount of correspondence,
and her work for the great New York
dailies, as well as the better class of
periodical literature, is of decided merit.
She is one of tho few successful women
interviewers in New- York. Lillian
EDirn SESSIONS TUPPEB.
Russell, the actress, says she would
rather be interviewed by Mrs. Tupper
than by any other reporter, for she never
misrepresents. Mrs. Tupper's own amus
ing estimate of the trials and difficulties
attendant upon interviewing women is
in itself worth quoting. She says:
"Having received an intimation that
the lady will grant an interview, one
must fortify one's self for delay, disap
pointment and continual torment, for
rarely is the interview obtained at the
appointed hour. When you have gained
an audience, you will wait until patience
ceases to be a virtue. Then she comes to
you with languor, indifference, conde
scension or cordiality, as the mood may
be. The successful business woman is
a capital subject for the interviewer.
She is yet a novelty not a back num
ber, like the actress and the agitator.
She is educated, broad, original, daring
in her advertising methods and often
possesses a unique and picturesque per
sonality. She has luxurious surround
ings, handsome jewels and gowns, and
knows all sorts of famous and interest
ing persons. She is a rich mine to the
zealous digger for gossip, and from the
tints of her corsets to the creams she
uses for her daily massage she furnishes
invaluable material for the assiduous
interviewer."
In 1890 Mrs. Tupper had an experience
which was decidedly sensational and
quite as unpleasant. It is well worth
recounting. She went to Toronto to
visit relatives, and when she reached
that city she was placed under,arrest on
the supposition that she was one 'Mary
Wilson, who was wanted by the Buffalo
police for robbing the house of her em
ployer of property valued at $3,000.
Mrs. Tupper had a through ticket, return
coupon and various letters jfcid other
evidence with her that she was not the
person wanted, but the. inspector of
police of Toronto declined to release her
until he heard from Buffalo. Mrs. Tup
per did not answer the description of the
thief in many important particulars, but
Awarded Highest Honors World's Fair.
PRICE'S
Bakin
Powder:
The only Pure Cream of Tartar Powder. No Ammonia; No Altu::.
Used in Millions of Homes 40 Years the Standard.
in spite of this, however, she was de
tained two hours before she was allowed
to go and treated in an extremely brutal
manner. Her own account of the affair
is in part as follows:
"What la your name?"
"Edith Sessions Tupper," I ansirered, with a
violent effort. What was the matter with my
voice, and vrhy did my tongue seem paralyzed?
"You travel under the name of Mary Wilson,
do yon not? he demanded.
"No," I said. "I do not."
"You got the check, didn't you?" he asked
the detective who had brought me in.
"Oh, yes, I've got tho check all right enough,"
he answered.
"She answers the description very well,"
went on Sergeant Reburn, reading a dispatch
he held in his hand: " 'Arrest Mary Wilson.
Wanted for. stealing goods. About 20, blue
eyed, brown haired, ladylike in appearance.'"
I interrupted him. "But I am not Mary Wil
son. You must see for yourself that I am over
80, and I am by no means slim. I am no thief.
and if you will send for Dr. ," naming a
woman physician who stands at the head of
her profession In Canada, and whose house was
only a few blocks from headquarters, "or Mr.
," a prominent business man, "or Mr.
," a well known Journalist, a- member of
the staffs of the Toronto Globe and Toronto
Saturday Night, "any oco of them can and will
identify me."
Sergeant Reburn is one of that class of po
licemen who beliiivo that the. best way to ex
amine a person under suspicion is to yell at
them. This he proceeded to do.
"Understand nic now," he savagely roared,
"you are a prisoner. You might as well under
stand that first as last. You can no mor-et
out of here than I can move the stones of this
building. Tho chief of police of Buffalo wires
me to arrest the woman presenting check No.
22,470. He also wires me to arrest Mary Wil
ton, dressed in a greenish dress"
" WelL see, mine is navy blue."
"That's a sort of green." he snapped. "B
sides, here's another rscssogo sayicg you have
changed your clothes on the way over."
"Oh, well," I said wearily. "1 see you are
determined that I am the thief, and you will
not give mo an opportunity to tell you whoand
what I am. I wish to prove to you that I am
not Mary Wilson, but Edith Sessions Tupper.'
"Where do you come from?" he demanded.
"From Panama, N. Y.," I answered. "I left
there this morning with my father, who
accompanied me to Brocton. From there I
came along to Buffalo."
"Who is your fathor?"
"Walter L. Sessions, a maa well knowu in
New York state."
"Have you any business?"
"I am a newspaper correspondent."
"A newspaper correspondent!" with an air
of utter disbelief.
"Yes," I said determinedly, for I. was begin
ning to get a little courage. "Yes. I am well
known in Buffalo. .If you will wire any of the
newspaper offices The Express, The Courier,
The Times, I don't care which any of them
will gladly identify me. I have worked for
The Express. Telegraph this Buffalo chief of
police to send to The Express and find out who
Iain."
Mrs. Tupper Whs not permitted to
communicate '.vith friends, nor did the
officers act on the suggestions she made
that would provo her identity. Her
trunk was searched, and tho detective,
"finding nothing which by the wildest
stretch of imagination could be termed
valuables, restored my keys. To broth
er detectives who had come in nnd were
staring at me as if I were some now spe
cies of wild animal I heard him say,
'There's absolutely nothing against her
but the number of the cneclc' "
Finally this message was sent to Buffalo:
We find check on woman who says she is
taith sessions Tupper, and that she has been
correspondent of tho Buffalo Express. She has
also a pass from Panama, N. Y.; to Buffalo and
return by the W. N. Y. & P. R. R. Is this the
woman you want?
Then followed an agonizing wait of 2 J
hours, during which Mrs. Tupper was
put through another examination. Mrs.
Tupper tells what followed:
At last nearly 1 o'clock a messenger boy
ran up tho stairs with a telegram. My heart
seemed to stop beating, and through a mist I
saw the room the open door the next room.
where, with folded arms and a pitying expres
sion on his face, stood a young, fair haired, de
tective, tho only one who had given me a kind
word through all that fearful ordeal and Re
burn bending his dnrk face over the yellow
document.
"He wants mo to hold you." were the words
I heard, "but I'm not going to do it. It would
be as absurd to hold you as it would bo to hold
a man. I don't believe Morin ever went near
the Buffalo Express office to find out who you
are."
He paused. The fair haired detective God
bless him! sent mc a kindly smile and gradu
ally tho blessed truth stole upon me that I was
not to bo locked np in a cell.
" alt a moment," said Reburn suddenly.
Give mo your keys."
Once again I saw my poor, simple little cot
ton and muslin frocks tumbled ovor and the
mysteries of my wardrobe laid bare. Thon I
broko down and sobbed aloud, but only for a
moment or two, for Reburn's sharo "Now.
there's no ua cf your doing that" quickly
made me resummon all my pride. He replaced
the articles in my trunk: then, taking up the
telegram, reau it slowly aloud. It was la sub-
stanco as follows:
'One of our officers leaves for Toronto at 11
o'clock. Wilson girl has short hair or switch
tied on behind. Trunk contains silk drcrs.
lace dress, gold watch. Jewelry, towels, night
gowns. Hold this woman anyway."
I hope overy free American citizen who reads
this story will, carefully noto the malicious in
sanity of this message. Morin gave a test by
which Mary Wilson could be positively identi
fied, but added, "Hold this woman anyway."
No matter if she be innocent, hold her. You've
got her in your power. Hold her. Make her
suffer all you can.
And right here I want to give Sergeant Re
burn all the justice due him. Harsh and auto
cratic as he was, I can never forget that he
had the humanity to release me In the face of
that peremptory and cruel order from Buffalo.
"Take off your hat and let me see your hair."
be said.
I obeyed. The only beauty with which na.
ture has gifted me ia wonderfully lone and
thick hair. I unpinned the plaits and let them
down. Even then the sergeant could not be
lieve his eyes.
"That's a switch tied on, isn't it?" he oeked.
Then I removed the string which confined
my hair close to my head, and the two braids
fell over my shoulders Indisputably my owa
hair and not another's. With a half muttered
exclamation of disgust. Sergeant Reburn tossed
Morta'i message on bis desk.
"You are discharged," he said.
Mrs. Tupper was then driven to the
house of a sister-in-law, and thus she
concludes her story:
It Is yet a mystery why the mere fact that
Mary Wilson went from Buffalo to Toronto
should have been deemed sufficient eround for
Morin to intercept a woman who chanced to
pass through Buffalo en route for-Toronto the
day the robbery was committed. The imbe
cility of Morin's detective methods is only
equaled by the brutality of his anal message
to Reburn.
Such is a chapter of International outnute. I
give it to the American public for their con
sideration. I especially beg American zsea to
remember that their wives, sisters or daughters
may be subjected to Just such fearful ordeals
unless the police system of this country Is radi
cally reformed. I would respectfully sail ay
government's attention to the manner la which
an American citizen may be treated. In a foreigm
city refused a privilege which would scarcely
be denitd susnscted a Ihilist in Russia.
And if, by giving my sad. story to the reading
public I can in any remote fashion shield one
sensitive, refined woman from the atony,
i I 1 ! 1 3 . . T
r 1 FT... IT rwanu,. UlUILTIltLV .1111 LUrLUIU 1 BJ1.
dured on that frightful night, I shall feel that
! I hare not told it In vain.
Mrs. Tupper has written many short
'stories and some poetry. She has a pleas
ant home on the banks of the Passaic, in
New Jersey, where most of her work is
done. She is thoroughly domestic in her
tastes, though necessarily much in pub
lic places, and is the wife of Mr. Horace
E. Tupper, a gentleman connected with
the Erie railroad. Mrs. Tupper is young,
handsome, and her big eyes are fine and
expressive. Her story "A Transferred
Identity" is considered one of the best
that has yet come from her prolific pen.
Baralag For Centuries.
Here is an instance of a fire that has
been burning for centures. According
to the testimony of the Duchess of Cleve
land, the great hearth fire in the hall of
Baby castle has never been suffered to
expire. This castle is perhaps the no
blest and" most perfect specimen of feu
dal architecture in England. It was in
the large banqueting hall of this famous
mansion that ages ago 700 knights are
said to have paid suit and service to the
earls of Westmoreland, one of the many
titles borES-f3yfii5--rH!
JLhe Ifilles. London Tit-Bits.
Posted.
Kindly Old Gentleman Do you know
what happens to little boys who run out
in the rain?
Little Boy Yessir. Sometimes they
get cold, sometimes they get a spanking,
and (triumphantly) sometimes Fve got
both. Harper's Bazar.
Mr. J. P. Blaize, an extensive
real estate dealer in Des Moines,
Iowa, narrowly escaped one of the
severest attacks of pneumonia while
in the northern part of that state
during a recent blizzard, says the
Saturday Review. Mr. Biaize had
occasion to drive several miles dur
ing the storm and was so thoroughly
chilled that he could not get warm,
and inside of an hour after his return-
he was threatened with a
severe case of pneumonia or lung
fever. Mr. Blaize sent to the near
est drug store aud got a bottle of
Chamberlain's Cough Remedy, of
which he had often heard, and took
a number of large doses. He says
the effect was wonderful and in a
short time he was breathing ciuite
easily. He kept on taking the
medicine and the next da- was able
to come to. Des Moines. M. Blaize
regards his cure as simply wonder--fnl.
For sale by A. F. Streitz and
North Platte Pharmacy.
And Congressman Bland insists
that I he panic was- caused, not by
the fear of silver purchases, but by
the tariff. If Mr. Bland will now
show himself to be a courageous
man of conviction and vote as he
talks, there is an interesting time
ahead for the Wilson bill.
A Sound Liver Makes n Well Mun.
Are von IHlHnns. fVinstmnre? fir
trfillhll'd with J.-ilindico. Sink Ilpndnrho
Bad Tusto in Mouth, Foul Breath. Coated
Tongue, Dyspepsia, Indigestion, Hot Drv
Skin, Pain in Back and between tli'u
Shoulders, Chills and Fever, &e. If you '
have any of these symptoms, your Liver
is out of order, aud your blood" is slowly
being poisoned , because your Liver does
not act properly. Hkrbine will cure any
disorder of the Liver, Stomach or Bowels.
It has no equal s a Jiver medicine. Pri;-o
75 cents. Free trial bottles at A. F.
Streitz.
Send 2c to us for our "Tommy Tupper"
book, the funniest book out, 1,000 Iuughs
for 2 cents. Hallkk Pnoi. Co.,
IJlair, .Neb.
So far this season the climatic
conditions requisite to the success
of the winter wheat crop have, been
fully met in the Missouri valley. It
will be hard to spoil the crop "now,
and Nebraska can count with con
fidence upon receiving at least
15,000,000 from this source alone
next vear.
ss
OTATK OK OniO, ClTV OF 1 OLEDO,
Lucas Couxty, ;
Fit an k J. Cheney makes oath thut ho
is the senior partner of the firm of F.J.
Cheney & Co, doing business in the
City of Toledo, county and state afore
said, and that said firm will pay the sum
of ONE HUNDRED DOLLARS for
each and every case tf catarrh that can
not be cured" by the use of IIalis Ga
TATinu Ccke. FRANK J. CHENEY.
Sworn to before me and subscribed in
my presence this 6th day of December
(sr- ) A.D.188G.
j seal. A. W. Gleason,
( ) Notary Public.
Hall's Catarrh Cure is taken internally
and acts directly on thd blooe and mucous
surfaces of the system. Send for testis
nmnials free.
FRANK J. CHENEY & CO., Toledo, O.
ESold by Druggists, 75c.
Eheumatism, Nervous Dis
eases and Asthma
CANNOT BE CURED without
the aid of ELECTRICITY.
We do not sell the apparatus, but
rent. CURE GUARANTEED.
Send for further information to
P. A. LEONARD &CO.,
Madison, Wis.