|-T IT ~ 1-|
I IN THE SHADOW OP SHAME ]
c*”^1 * ^nnfip tsz? “An* si*:'
T. F it zg«r%. Id MaJloy f«nt Knivt," Etc.
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CHAPTER VI.
The murmur of a restless crowd, the
shuffle of feet, the noise of jurymen
faking their places, the whispering of
newspaper reporters, the quick tread
of policemen passing to and fro, the
rustle of lawyers' papers, and the bang
ing of doors ceased, and absolute silence
fell upon all as Olive Dumbarton took
the place assigned to her in the cor
oner’s court. In front of the unhappy
woman, who was dressed in black and
heavily veiled, sat her solicitor, George
Coris, beside her George Bostock, with
Dr. Quave and his son. Her daughter
and the servants were in an adjoining
room, it being considered desirable that
each witness should be examined out
of the hearing of the others.
After the preliminaries, including the
calling of the roil of jurors, the identi
fication of the deceased, and the state
ment regarding the cause of his death
given by Dr. Quave, the coroner ad
dressed the Jury. These proceedings,
he said, were held to inquire truly not
only how David Dunnbarton came to
his death, but likewise to enable the
Jury to decide, if possible, by whom
that death had been caused.
Unhappily, they were all aware on
whom it was that the gravest suspicion
had fallen. It would be idle not to sup
pose that each and every one of them
did not know some of the circumstan
ces of the case, either by means of
the press or in other ways, and it was
probable they had discussed the matter.
But he knew perfectly well that now
they had ceased to be irresponsible
members of society, and were there,
a sworn jury, to decide if this were a
case to be sent to another court, they
would have no difficulty in dismissing
from their minds all they had heard or
read.
He would lay before them as briefly
and plainly as possible the statement of
this case. But before doing so he would
have to go back some years previous
to the date of this tragedy.
The deceased, David Dumbarton, had
some eighteen years ago married a
lady about five years his junior.
Though their domestic life began in
happiness, it was soon overclouded by
misery, solely owing to the habits and
disposition of the husband. After a
period on which it would be too painful
to enter, bavid Dumbarton deserted his
wife, only to strive to rejoin her when
she had earned independence and fame
by her industry and talents. This pro
ject she opposed, not only for her own
sake, but for that of her child. A com
promise was then arrived at between
husband and wife. For a certain sum
he consented that a legal separation
should be granted her, and having re
ceived this he left Bngl'and, promising
never more to molest her.
Unfortunate for himself, this promise
was not kept, for after a little more
than five years’ absence he returned
, to London and immediately wrote a
letter which would be read In the
course of evidence, a letter, as they
would see, which contained more of a
demand than a request. Whether an
answere had been made to this or not,
had yet to become known.
The next principal fact was that on
the night of the 21st of September,
David Dumbarton entered his wife’s
house in the Hoxton road, St. John’s
Wood, and was there found dead at her
feet, they being the sole occupants of
the room where the tragedy occurred,
while the knife which had undoubtedly
caused his death was seen in her hand.
They would hear the evidence, and it
would be for them to decide whether
the case should be sent to another
court or not.
Before the examination of the wit
nesses began, plans of the house where
David Dumbarton met his death and of
the garden surrounding it, were sub
mitted to the jury, the draughtsman
giving his testimony as to their ac
curacy.
Then Olive Dumbarton was called,
when summoning her strength to sup
press her emotion and wear a sem
blance of composure, she rose and went
forward. As she stood before the cor
oner, her limbs trembling, her brain
reeling, she was acutely aware of the
etimulous of excitement caused by the
prospect of catching sight of her coun
tenance as she drew back her veil,
and of hearing her voice as she gave
her evidence. She was conscious that
all eyes were watching hers; that many
lips whispered comments on her; that
the faces stretched forward appeared
cruel In the hungry eagerness of their
morbid and vulgar curiosity.
In a low tone, and without hesitation,
she answered the questions addressed
to her by the coroner, in this manner
telling the story of the scene which
ended in her husband’s tragic death.
Then came the queries that touched
the case more closely, to all of which
she replied simply, clearly, Ingenuously.
Bhe was not aware the garden dooiy
was unbolted on the night In question.
The servant had directions to keep it
fastened. She had allowed the window
of her room to remain open because
Bhe had felt the night oppressive. Her
first impression of the man who entered
her study was that he was mad or
drunk. She had not fled from him, as
she had not presence of mind or cour
age for such an action. He had
seemed terror stricken, but had not
eaid he had been pursued, nor did he
mention any name. She could not tell
why he had called out to her for mercy,
unless In his delirium he had mistaken
her for the person who had wounded
him. She did not remember hearing
any other footsteps save his own, or
seeing any person or persons in the
garden. She had not replied to his
last letter, nor had it been her Intention
to give him further help.
Cross examined by her solicitor, she
stated she had no reason to suspect
her husband would have visited her on
the evening of the tragedy; nor had
she. previous to drawing it from his
breast, ever seen the knife which had
caused his death. She had screamed
on first seeing a man whom she be
lieved was a stranger in her room,
but had afterward been too much over
come by fright to call for assistance.
The maid was next summoned, who
deposed to hearing her mistress cry
out as if she had been struck, and soon
after to hearing a man's voice call for
help( whereon she had rushed to the
room from where the noise proceeded,
there to see Mrs. Dumbarton with a
knife in her hand bending over the de
ceased. who was lying on the floor.
Witness then ran out of the house in
search of a policeman with whom she
returned.
Veronica, pale and trembling and un
able to suppress her tears, described in
a voice scarcely audible, the terrible
scene which had met her sight on en
tering the Btudy. Martyn, the police
man who had been called in by the
maid, gave his evidence. Dr. Quave,
who followed, declared that on ex
amination of the deceased he had found
life to be extinct. Then came Detective
Inspector Mackworth, who stated he
had found the knife previously seen in
jlhe hands of the1 person suspected, and
described the traces of footmarks left
by the deceased in his passage across
the garden and into the room where
he had been subsequently found dead.
He added that the strictest scrutiny
had failed to discover the foot marks
of a second pair of feet. Had the de
ceased been followed through the gar
den. no trace of his pursuer had re
mained behind.
These witnesses having been cross
examined by Mrs. Dumbarton's solici
tor, he proceeded to state his defence;
and he, being recognized as one of
the cleverest men In his profession, the
jury settled itself to hear him with ex
pectation and interest.
The case before them, George Coils
said, in a low earnest voice, and with
plain Impressive manner, was one of
the most extraordinary that had ever
come before that or any other court;
extraordinary not merely because of
the Interest it had created, but be
cause of the circumstances under which
the crime had been committed and of
the suspicions which these same cir
cumstances cast upon an Innocent
woman. Inasmuch as none of those
who gave evidence had actually seen
the blow dealt to the deceased by
which he had lost his life, their testi
mony was therefore entirely circum
stantial.
Now, evidence in order to carry con
viction should not only be plain, direct
and clear, but it should be incapable
of any other reasonable solution than
that which it was brought forward to
sustain and the evidence Just tendered
was not of that description; it was,
as he would show, capable of, and in
harmony with, an explanation to this
mystery other than that which sug
gested itself at present. There was no
need to dwell upon the unhappy mar
ried life led by the deceased and his
wife, save to point out the vicious ca
reer he had followed—a viciousness,
which, doubtless became the agent of
his death, though the perpetrator of his
murder was other than the woman on
whom suspicion lay.
If a man coilld not only alienate the
affections, but injure, deceive and
abandon his wife, his best friend, the
mother of his child, how badly could he
behave towards others of her sex? He
had for years led a wandering and
misguided life among companions as
reckless as himself; and, what was
more probable than that he had been
guilty of one of those wrongs which
the law is slow, if not powerless, to
punish, but which, touching men on the
tenderest points of their affection and
of their honor, they are sure to avenge.
Here was the probable key to the
mystery surrounding the crime. Some
man who considered himself injured
beyond endurance had sought and
found revenge for his wrongs. It was
lawful to presume that while approach
ing his wife’s house the deceased had
met with the avenger, when to seek
help and refuge, David Dumbarton had
rushed through the garden and into the
presence of his wife, who on his ask
ing for aid, had drawn from his breast
the knife with which an unknown hand
had fatally stabbed him.
The whole bearing of the case would
point to such a conclusion, and to the
innocence of the woman who was the
unhappy victim of suspicion. As she
had stated she neither knew or sus
pected that he would call upon her
that evening. Had he desired to have
an interview with her there was no
reason why he should not have come
to the hall door instead of rushing
across the grass and flower beds to
enter by an open window.
Then, as regards the knife by which,
the murder had been committed. The
servants, in their cross examination,
had sworn that they had never seen it
before the night of the tragedy, it was
surely Impossible to think the weapon
had been bought and secreted by this
lady for the purpose of assasinating her
husband at such a time and under such
circumstances as would favor the deed.
No, the knife belonged to the person
who had struck the blpw to avenge
himself for wrong perpetrated by the
deceased.
Indeed, there was not sufficient mo
tive apparent for suspecting this in
jured woman of committing this hor
rible act. Nothing could have been
more easy than for her to have ob
• j
A Great Difference.
He—I was bound and gagged by
bandits. )
She—Were they like the bandits in
comic opera?
He—No; the gags they used were all
new.
\
Through Campaign Literature.
She—She Is suing for a divorce.
He—I thought they were so happy?
She—So they were until he run for
that office, and then she found out,
through reading liia opponent's cam
paign literature, what a villain" he
was.
tained a divorce had she bo wished;
there was no necessity for her to seek
freedom by causing his death. Mrs.
Dumbarton was a woman of blameless
life, and all who knew her could bear
witness that hers was not the wicked,
depraved and. mullgnant heart that had
conceived and carried out such a
crime.
There was no necessity to say more
to any enlightened body of men. He
had pointed out the gross Improbabil
ity. he might add, the utter Impossi
bility of such a deed being done by
such a woman; the lack of evidence
to support so serious an accusation;
the inadequacy of motive on her part;
and he would ask the jury, as men of
judgment and as lovers of justice to
return a verdict which would free this
suffering lady from the inconveniences,
the humiliations, and the foul sus
picions of which unhappy circumstan
ces had made her the victim.
George Coris sat down at the conclu
sion of his speech with a sense of satis
faction at having done his best for his
client, but likewise with the knowledge
that his case was weak and his argu
ment inconclusive. At the request of
a juryman, the maid was recalled and
questioned regarding the voices she had
heard on the night of the tragedy, but
she merely repeated what she had al
ready stated, and no further light on
the deed was forthcoming.
The coroner then summed up the evi
dence. The jury, he stated, must dis
miss from their minds all inadmlssable
statements made by the solicitor for
the person suspected. They had heard
the evidence and they ought to find a
verdict contingent and dependent on
their conclusions. He would recall to
their minds the chie? points of the evi
dence given. And he then dwelt briefly
but forcibly on the persecution the
suspected person had endured at the
hands of an unprincipled man; on his
demand for money; his entrance to her
house, where he was discovered mur
dered, the instrument by which his life
had been taken being noticed- In her
hand. The supposition that an unseen
and unknown avenger had caused the
death of David Dumbarton had, so
far as could be ascertained, no founda
tion in fact.
Evening had come before he had fin
ished his remarks and the jury had re
tired to consider their verdict. Gas
flared in the court, poisoning the close
atmosphere: strangers had come and
gone, reporters had relieved each other;
the officers looked jaded. But the in
terest which had begun to flag in the
public mind now suddenly revived, the
silence was broken by/whispers; the
court, which had perceptibly thinned
an hour ago, became suffocatingly
crowded.
Olive Dumbarton, sensitively con
scious to ail that went on around her,
preserved a calmness that she felt was
unnatural; her emotions were frozen;
the tide of her life seemed to stand
still. Those around her, George Bos
tock, her solicitor, Pr. Quave, betrayed
their excitement by their restlessness
and by the anxious manner with which
they regarded her. It was a relief to
her and to her friends when the jury
once more entered the court. She
heard their footsteps without a quick
ening of her heart throbs, and saw
without a flutter of hope the look of
satisfaction they wore at having come
to the end of a troublesome duty, for
she knew full well the verdict they
would return, and foresaw the fate that
cruelly awaited her. That which was
to her probably a matter of life or
death was to them an exciting incident
in the mototony of their daily lives.
In another moment the foreman of
the Jury declared that they were unani
mous iti their opinion that David Dum
barton had met his death by being
stabbed in the breast, and that the fatal
blow had been struck by his wife.
The verdict was received in profound
silence, broken by the coroner’s voice
as he proceeded to explain the differ
ence between murder and man
slaughter, with a view to helping them
in their decision as to which form of
the crime had been committed by Olive
Dumbarton. Manslaughter was unlaw
ful act of killing another without mal
ice, either expressed or implied, and
was either voluntary or involuntary,
while murder was the unlawful killing
of any creature by any means with
malice aforethought, and with a settled
purpose to revenge. The evidence they
had heard must be the best guide to
their decision. If it was their opinion
the deceased had, in backing his de
mands for money, or through charac
teristic brutality, used violence which
resulted in an act on his wife's part of
self defence; or if they considered the
fatal blow was given during one of
those paroxysms of passion which,
while the frenzy lasts, stills the voice
of reason, and renders its victim reck
less of the consequences of his or her
deed, then they must return a verdict
of manslaughter.
Without quitting the box, the jury,
gave it as their opinion that the case
before them was one of manslaughter.
The coroner then, turning toward the
black robed, immovable figure which.
wras the center of all observation, said:
"Olive Dumbarton, the jury have in-,
quired into the cause attending the de
mise of your husband, and have come
to the conclusion he met his death
at your hands. It is, therefore, my
duty to commit you to the next assizes,
to be holden at the old Bailey, there
to take your trial upon that charge."
On this George Coris applied that his
client might be liberated on bail, when
the coroner said he would accept bail
in two sureties for the appearance of
the accused so charged with man
slaughter at the ensuing assize.
And the necessary formalities, having
gone through, Olive Dumbarton was
led from the coroner's court and driv
en home by George Bostock: Veronica
sitting beside her, clinging to her,
holding her hands, the girl's sad eyes
tlxed upon her mother’s immobile face:
Olive Dumbarton herself, weighed down
by a sense of impending woe, heavier
to bear and darker to meet than death
itself.
CHAPTER VII.
On recovering from the dull stupor
caused by the death of her husband
under circumstances so appalling, at a
moment so unexpected, and by the
terrible suspicion which had fixed itself
upon her, Olive Dumbarton began to
look with calmness such as she could
command upon her situation, and to
brace herself toward meeting the in
evitable. Being a woman who had al
ready suffered much in the course of
her existence, her spirit was seasoned
to trial.
She had known alternate light and
darkness, happiness and woe. Her girl
hood had basked in sunshine: her mar
ried life had made her taste the bitter
ness of disappointment, the brine of
grief. Then, after struggle and despair
came success and independence, a state
of freedom from anxiety and delicious
calm which might eventually have
reached the heights of happiness, had
not affliction come when looked for
least. But this horrible charge having
been made against her, the heaviest
and cruelest blow a wife and mother
could know, it was her determination,
not for her own sake so much as for
her child’s, to combat It with all her
strength and prove her innocence to
the world, hopeless as the task seemed,
and helpless as she was at present.
The courage which had strengthened
her in the heaviest hours of her past
life was with her now, and would sus
tain her to the end.
(Continued N«xt Week*) ^ 1
BIBLES IN MANY TONGUES.
Translated I nto 450 Languagea—Its
Enormous Circulation.
Century Magazine: Three hundred
million copies of the bible have been
printed in a century.
The British and American bible so
cieties alone circulate some 8,000,000
copies a year. Forty per cent, of the
coBt Is recovered from sales.
Often the payments are made In
curious substitutes for money, such as
cowry shells In Ugunda, copra and ar
rowroot In New Hebrides, swords, dag
gers, sandals, amulets, straw hats,
pieces of silk, eggs, butter, rotten
cheese, dogs’ teeth, seabirds' eggs and
other picturesque circulating material.
Occasionally, even Bibles are stolen.
Something like 2,000 colporteurs arid
bible women travel in all manner of
outlandish places, “by railroad, car
riage, boat, bullock wagon, sleigh, bi
cycle, wheelbarrow, on mule, Jlnrlkisha,
or afoot," to distribute bibles.
Bibles must be packed in water-tight
parcels to be landed throug the surf in
Madras: they are made up in fifty
six pound pacakes to lit the coolies'
backs in Annam.
A century ago the bible was printed
in forty languages. It is now printed
in 450, and new ones are being hied
every year. Sometimes languages are
practically made by the bible—-that is
to say. It is the first book printed in
some obscure tongue, so rude that it
does not even contain words enough
to express thought.
Take, for example, the translation
just made for the Sheetswa tribe in
East Africa. They had no word for
Supreme Being, or home, father, heav
en, house and other ideas equally fun
damental. Other recent translations
have been made into Mare, Persian,
Ugunda, Labrador-Eskimo, Kongo
Baldo, Wedan, Fang, Madarese and No
gugu.
And there are said to be on the bor
bers of the Indian empire alone 108
languages in w!M h there is no Chris
tian scripture printed.
Editing Billboards.
Cincinnati Enquirer: Among the
many suggestive and interesting com
muication writers in the New York
Herald Is one who prays for a censor
ship over the billboards. He contends
that many of the Illustrated posters,
advertising plays of an extremely sen
sational character, are corrupting to i
the youthful mind; that boys who j
would not be permitted to go to play- j
houses where such monstrosities are
actually produced, at least have the op
portunity to gaze on the Illuminated
advertisements, getting false Ideas of
life and treasuring the impression that
they are restrained from attending
something which Is delightful. Many
of the billboards of the city are not
only amenable to this objection, but
the are offensive to people generally.
The are blotches on the common sym
metry. They are a little better than
the Indencencies which have been at
least partially eradicated from the pub
lic places, but not much better.
The difficulty is said to be in drawing
the line of censorship. Who shall say
what is proper and what is not? How
are men to agree on what is credible?
One way would be to appoint a censor
under the provision of law, and leave
him to exercise his own supreme Judg
ment—some one whose head would not
be turned by the gushing praise of the
moralists, and who would not care a
rap for the denunciation of the sen
sationalists and the third-class show
men.
City authorities have power In such
things and sometimes they accomplish
wonders without distinct authorization.
They have somehow stopped expector
ation in the street cars by merely
threatening people with signs. They
can remove obstructions from the side
walks .take down signs and do a great
many other things under the general
scope of the law. They can Interdict
Indencencies on the billboards, and, no
doubt, they can prohibit billboards al
together “if they’ve a mind to." By
the way, that might be the best way
to get fid of the Inflammatory picure
nuisance.
Something New.
McFlub—Our preacher has got a
great scheme. He’s going to open—
Sieeth—A model saloon, I s’pose.
McFlub—No; he’s going to open—
Sieeth—A moral gambling hell?
McFlub—I tell you he’s going to
open—
Sieeth—Well, what’s he , going to
open ? \
McFlub—His church oftener.
.Mr*. Winslow* (soothing sthcp ror Children
teething; eottene the gumi, reduce# iuflntumuuon. »L
idle pain, cures wind colic. 2d cent'' a bottle
Too Choice.
Chicago News: "Look here!” ex
claimed the irate house holder. “Don't
you know gas comes out of the furnace
you sold me?”
“Well, what do you expect to come
out of a cheap furnace?" demanded the
stove dealer. "Electric lights?"
Pise’s Cure far Consumption is (he best
medicine I hare ever found for coughs
and eolds.—-Mrs. Oscar Tripp, Big Beck,
111., March 2e. 1601.
“Our Heroes in Black.”
Richmond Times-Dispateh: In re
cording the death of Albert Comfort,
the oldest colored man in Spottsyvania
county, our Fredericksburg correspon
dent relates that during the war, when
rations were scarce, this noble colored
man borrowed a team and wagon, went
to Fredericksburg and secured supplies
from the federal troops on the ground
that they were intended for needy col
ored people, but in point of fact he
made his perilous Journey on behalf of
his msitress and her children, of whom,
in the absence of the white men of the
family, he was the protector. This was
done at the risk of his own life, for
before he reached home he was arested,
court-martialled and sentenced to be
shot, but upon the plea of prominent
citizens of Spottsylvania the war de
partment relented and set the noble
prisoner free.
This was no exceptional black man.
He was a type. There were thousands
upon thousands of other black men
like him throughout the length and
breadth of the southern states, loyal
and devou tto the families who owned
them, choosing bondage, such as it was,
and affliction great as it was, with old
miss and the children rather than the
pleasures of freedom at the north to
be obtained by desertion. The war
produced many heroes among the men
and many heroines among the women,
and It is right that their glorlus deeds
should be recorded, and that their
praises should be sung. But never to
be forgotten in that struggle are the
Albert Comforts, whose faces were
dark, hut whose hearts were pure and
whose loyalty and fidelity were equal
to any sacrifice. We should like to see
In every state of the south a monu
ment to the memory of these devout
hros in black.
Where the Cows Are.
Extensive dairy operations are car- I
ried on In New York, Connecticut, Ver
mont and Iowa, each of which states
has over twenty-five cows to the square
mile.
The state with less than twenty-five
cows and more than twenty are Mas
sachusetts, Rhode Island, New Jersey,
Pennsylvania and Ohio.
The states that have from twelve to
twenty cows per square mile are New '
Hampshire , Delaware, Maryland, In- ,
dlana, Illinois and Wisconsin.
The states that have from eight to
twelve cows per square mile are Vir
gin, Kentuck.y Tennessee, Michigan,
Missouri, Minnesota and Kansas.
There are a large number of states
that have from four to less than eight I
cows to the square mhe, and they are ;
Maine, Virginia, North Carolina, South ’
Carolina, Georgia, Alabama, Mississip
pi, Louisiana, Arkansas, Oklahoma and ;
Nebraska.
All the other states and territories In |
the unlno have three or less cows.
Florida has fewer cows to the square
mile than aify other state east of the
Mississippi.
In all the states west of Nebraska
and In Texas, Indian Territory, South
Dakota and North Dakota, there are
fewer than three cows to the square
mile.
ANOTHER LIFE SAVED.
Mrs. G. W. Fooks, of Salisbury, Md.,
wife of G. W. Fooks, Sheriff of Wlco
rnleo < (Minty, >
says: “I suf- j
fered with kid- :
ney uompluiut
rfor eight,
f years. It cnme :
Si on me gradual- !
t ly. I felt tired ;
1 and weak, was
short of breath
I and was trou
\ b 1 e d with
bloating Hfter
eating,and my
ill) I
limbs were
badly swollen. One doctor told mo it, '
■would finally turn to Bright’s disease, j
I was laid up at one time for three
weeks. I had not taken Doan’s Kid
ney Pills more than three days when
the distressing nching across my back
disappeared, and I was soon entirely ,
cured.” j f
For sale by all dealers. Price 50 . •
cents. Foster-Mliburn Co., Buffalo,; f
N. Y.
- 5
Yes, Indeed!
Puck: The pessimist—"It costs a J
great deal more to live nowadays than
It used to.” ,
The optimist—"Well, it's worth it." *
~. .*
THE PILLS THAT
CURE
RHEUMATISM
Mrs. Henry Story, of No.
532 Muskingdum Ave^ Zanes
ville, Ohio, says: “My husband
suffered from rheumatism so
that he could hardly stand. His
back hurt and he had such
pain in his left arm that he
could not rest night or day.
The doctor did him no good
and it was not until he tried
Dr. Williams* Pink Pills that
he was helped. Six boxes cured
him completely and he has not
had an ache or a pain since.
We think the pills are the best
medicine in the world.**
Dr.Williams’
Pink Pills
for Pale People
cure rheumatism because they
make new blood. It would be *
folly not to try a remedy with
such a convincing record of
cures.
SOLD BY ALL DRUGGISTS.
Coldfield, flevada
.’00 In gold per ton was paid one Gold
old leaser. If you can’t go, buy 6c Bhares
i a live, honent company. Particulars
pec. Ilox 1264, Denver, Colorado.
100.00 weekly easily made writing
health and accident Insurance; experi
noe unnecessary. Write Banker’s Aecl
ent company, l3es Moines. Ia.
ilOUX CITY PT'G CO., 1,060—47. 1904
r^TPSTORlit
fliie Kind You Have
ANp^dabtePfepatntiDnforAs- II Y 6
slmilating the Food andRegula - (;■
ting the Stomachs and Bowels of ?|h
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Facsimile Signature of 11
I Thirty Years
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1 fX /T | 111 T/^ These 19 properties «Lfe the best in our grral i’i‘1, I must
Ri A I HI An|%lW be sold in 60 daLyt. Some will tie. te. Write f >r i.. . scrip
I \ l\ l/M | /l 8 W % tl in to Walker <*t Marple. or
vliijivx) Southern Guaranty Investment Co., Sioux Lty, la.
10O Veres, well Improved, Beresford, 8. P., •55.00. $1,400.00. 4io d Grift Mill with lots for feeling
20-room furnished Hotel, Holstein, la., $8,800.0 >. and cribbing, Sioux City. la., fl.'-oo.Qo. 0-rooiu
Finely improved 16 acres, with good house, burn and House, burn, fruit and 3 lota, Sioux City, Ta.. f2.300.0Q.
800 bearing fruit trees, Holstein. la., $r..000.0o tin- Hardware stock and Han.es* Roods, Lake View, la.,
plcment building and residence, f2.lo0.00; stock less »3,00>.00. Flue Water Mill, latest machinery, with
than Invoice, Cushing, la. Faying Dental I'rac- 41 acres, two houses, burn and sheds. Malvern, la.,
lice, Salem, 8. P , tVOO.OO. Nilceseveu-room Hou-a ss.utKi.uo. Fine stock or Drugs, B"©ks ami China,
and two lots, well Improved, Leeds, la., $2,100.0 i. excellent location, good trade, Charter Oak, i*.,
»t»3 acres. Marray t'ounty, Minnesota, 650aH>, and f7,0U0.UU. Elegant 12-rom modern residence with
large corner store building, with barn and two lots, , barn and two lots, very hue. Minneapolis, Minnesota,
Ualva, la., f.3,000.00. ©room Iiousc with barn, | #i2,f» iO.UO. Kestaurant stock and fixtures, with
fruit, etc., in good South Minn, town, flf400.U0. hotel accommodations, Milford. Ia., $2,OOO.UO. 1-2
Improved IGOncar town. Boyd County. Neb., $3,Soo.iX>, acre lot, good location, Sioux, Neb.. $75.00. Forcer
and two good bouses and lots. 62,3)0.00, also 3 back*, lot on ear line, center of town, Sioux, Neb., *125.00. »
•600.00, bioux City, la. Oood i2-room Brick House j Very c uuplete stock'of Restaurant goods; excellent
and 4 lots, excellent for chicken raueb, Leeds, la., | location, Bac City, Iowa, $l,30j.oo.
PUTNAM FADELESS DYES
Motmi* «Mdtbrlgtear ate Iteter eaten that ter alter tea. Oat 10c package colon lift, wool a* cottoa tvet-.i wen and Is goaracteed to girt oerfect retain,
ilk Mar or we wK mi part paid at 10c a package Write far free booklet- -Sow to Ore, Btcacb aad Mix Colon. ntVi'We drvg CO., ValourtUe, 'Husem i