Image provided by: University of Nebraska-Lincoln Libraries, Lincoln, NE
About The frontier. (O'Neill City, Holt County, Neb.) 1880-1965 | View Entire Issue (Dec. 2, 1920)
I Another Royr ■ Suggestion MUFFINS and COFFEE. CAKE I From the New Royal Cook Book I Breakfast u too often eaten a* a duty rather than a joy. The Royal Educational Department present* here gome breakfast dishes that will simu late the most critical appetite. Muffins 2 cups flour 3 teaspoons Royal Balling Powder 1 tablespoon sugar U teaspoon salt f cup milk S eggs 1 tablespoon shortening Sift together, flour, bak ing powder, B’.igar ond salt: add milk, well-beat en cggJ ond melted ahnrt eniiiu; mix well, ttrease mu Hi; tins ond put two tablespoons of tatter In to each. Bake In hot oven £0 to £6 minutes. Coffee Cake 2 cups flour >,4 teaspoon salt 13 tablespoons sugar 4 teaspoons Royal Baking Powder £ table spoons shortening % cup milk Mix and sift dry ingredi ents; add melted shorten ing and enough milk to make very stiff battsr. Spread H-lnch thick in greased nan; add top mixture. Bake about 30 minutes In moderate oven. Top Mixture 2 tablespoons flour J tablespoon cinnamon 8 tableapoons sugar 8 tablespoons shortening Mix dry Ingredients; rub In shortening and spread thickly over top of dough before baking. ROYAL BAKING POWDER Aimcfertasly Pm3<o Made from Crear. i\utA* derived from grapes* ---__ Its Nature. "This bacon Is neither very good nor very bad.” “How could you expect It to be either when It Is just middling?” USE “DIAMOND DYES" Dye right l Don’t risk your material In a poor dye. Each package of "Diamond Dyes” contains directions so simple that any woman can diamond-dye a new, rich, fadeless color into old garments, draperies, cover ings, everything, whether wool, silk, linen, cotton or mixed goods. Huy “Diamond Dyes" — no oilier kind—then perfect results are guaranteed. Druggist li a s “Diamond Dyes Color Card”—16 rich colors. Adv. In Any Trade. "A dress designer,” says a Camo mile street dressmaker in the London Nows, “must he horn.” We always think this Is ah advantage.—Punch. Chticura Soap for the Complexion. Nothing better than Cutlcura Soap daily and Ointment now and then as needed to make the complexion clear, scalp clean and hands soft and white. Add to this the fascinating, fragrant Cutlcura Talcum and you have the Cutlcura Toilet Trio.—Adv. Just as Good. “I can no longer offer my friends a bumper.” “Hut you can tuke them out In your flivver.” Important to Mother* Examine carefully every bottle of CASTOIilA. that famous old remedy for Infants and children, and see that It Bears the Signature of 4 In Use for Over 30 Years. Children Cry for Fletcher’s Castoria Silence means consent; also that you don’t know. There Isn’t an Inch of love Inn yard of contention. MHMMmEnHBallMBiMmiaBiaaGWBHMi Waste of Time. “I cnn rend Reggie like a book." ‘‘You shouldn’t waste your time on such stupid literature.” Women are changeable. Men are monotonous. i -- A man Isn't beaten as long a« lie’s not discouraged. 11 BETTER DEAD Life is a burden when the bod/ is racked with pain. Everything worries and the victim becomes despondent and downhearted. To bring hack the sunshine take GOLD MEDAL The national remedy of Holland for over 200 years; it is an enemy of all pains re» Bulling from kidney, liver and uric acid troubles. All druggists, three sizes. Leek far Ike name Gold Medal cm every kes and accept no imitation l l Think what tiiat means to you in ™-/' Rood hard dollars with the great de 1 , mand for wheat at high prices. Many farmers in Western Canada have paid for their land me from a single crop. The same success may still be . yours, for you can buy on easy terms. P: Farm Land at $ 15 to $30 an Acre t*w5i irood crazing lands at low prices ccnvcniesst to your grain farm en able you to reap the profits from stock raising and dairying. Learn the Facts About Western Canada i —low taxation (none on improvements), healthful climate, good fnd^mous people p easaat soc“‘I relationships, a prosperous and uJi1 U“ur*L**! literature, mape, dascription of (arm opportunities io G. A. Cask. Drawer 117. Watartewi, S. D.; W. V. Bassett. Roan 4, Baa BUS*. Oswka. Nab., as4 R. A. CarraU, 311 Jackwa Slraat. St. Baal. Ml., Canadian Government Agents. j Organization, Responsibility, Integrity — In Other Words the Reputation of RICE BROTHERS CatlU Lire Stock Commission, Sioux City Stock Yards Cattle Hog, GUARANTEES SATISFACTION Hog. Sheep A Reliable Firm to Ship to Sheep Aeeurate market reports gladly furnished free. Write us. glso Chicago, 111., Sioux Veils, 8. EL ■ -- .. _^ -■»***• ajfejta . . ■«> - - ^ - 1 ' ( THE MARK OF CAIN ) ^ Copyright. 1»17, by J. B. Lipplncott Co. ^ At last Judge Hoyt spoke rath er sharply to him. “Brace up, Stryker,” he said. “If you can do a good turn for a master who was always kind to you, don’t spoil your chance by acting like a baby. If your betters can control themselves, surely you can.” With an effort Stryker stopped shuffling about and a few more sniffs ended his emot ional outburst. “I’m 60 years old,” he said, apologetically, and, apparently, to all present, “and I’ve been in this same employ for 15 years. It’s natural as to how I should feel bad, ain’t it, now, Mr. Coro ner?” “Yes, my man, but it’s also natural that you should try to j control your grief. As Judge ' Hoyt says, you may render as 1 sistauce to your late master by 1 your testimony. Now, tell us all you know of Mr. Trow I bridge’s callers of late, or any , little thing that might come to | your notice as a Tnitler. Sorhe | times you servants have oppor j trinities of observation not known upstairs.” I “That we have, sir,” and Stryker nodded his head thought fully. “Yes, that we have. But I know nothing, sir, nothing at all, as has a bearing on the death of the master,—no, sir, not any ' thing.” Metmnks the tellow doth protest too much,’ ” Pinckney murmured to himself. The re I porter sat, with sharpened pen cils, but so far he felt he had not ■ much to work on in the way of j clues. As to getting a story for his paper, he was more than sat I isfied. The elements of the fash ionable household, a divided in terest between the two women, the mysterious death of the mil lionaire, and now, the uncertain evidence of the old butler, all these would give him enough for a front page spread. But Pinck ney wanted more than that. He wanted food for his detective in stinct. He wanted-clues and evi dence of a tangible nature, or at least of an indicative trend. And he had found little so far. Still, he had found some, and he had tucked away in his mind several speeches and looks, that, though not emphasized by the coroner, seemed to him to point some where, even if he had no idea where. Further questions brought nothing definite from Stryker, and he was succeeded by two of the maids. These frightened creatures were even less com municative, and it was with a sigh of relief that Coroner Berg gave up all attempt to learn any thing from the household, and called on Judge Hoyt, feeling sure now he would, at least, get intellingent testimony. The Judge was too well known to be questioned as to his identity and the coroner proceeded to ask concerning his relations with the deceased. . n < ft ■ 1 1 . .1 M_ “Lifelong friends, almost, re plied Hoyt. “We were at college together* and have been more or less associated ever since. Unfor tunately, I was out of town yes terday, or I might know more of Mr. *T ■owbridge’s movements. For I had expected to see him at his office,'but was prevented by an unexpected call to Philadel phia. I wrote Mr. Trowbridge that I eoifld not see him until evening, and as the Philadelphia matter was connected with his ’ business, I telegraphed from ’ there that I would call at his i house last evening, and give him ! my report.” j “And then Miss Trowbridge < telephoned you?” observed the ! coroner, who had heard this be ; fore. | “Yes, and I came right up here, and was here when the po lice telephoned of their discov ery.” “Then as you can tell us noth ing of yesterday’s events, can you throw any light on the case by anything you know, of Mr. Trowbridge's affairs in general ? Had he any enemies, or any quar rel of importance?” “No, I am sure he had no quarrel with any one who would go so far as to kill him. It seems to me it must have been the work of some of those Camorra societies.” “Why would they attack him?” “Oaly for purposes of rob bery, I should say. But the flag ger implies or may imply an^Ital ian, for American citizens do not 6 go around with such weapons.” ‘‘That is true. And there may have been robbery of some val uables that we do not know of. But do you think, Judge Hoyt, that the Camorra is such a des perate menace? Are not fears of it exaggerated and unfound ed?” ‘‘There is a great deal of the real thing, Mr. Berg. When you consider that there are 1,500,000 Italians in America and 600,000 of them are in New York City, it is not surpising that many of their secret societies are repre sented here. Therefore, it seems to me, that circumstances point to a crime of this sort, whether for robbery or whether at the hire of some superior criminal.” ‘‘It is certainly possible that if Mr. Trowbridge was desired dead by some enemy in his own rank of life, the actual deed might have been committed by a hired crook, whether of an Ital ian society or of a New York gang. And the fact of the in formation first coming from an Italian "Woman, gives plausibility to the foreign theory.” ‘‘It may be, and if so, it may prove a very difficult matter to discover the truth.” ‘‘You are right, Judge, and so far we have but the slightest shreds of evidence to work on. The articles found in the pock ets of Mr. Trowbridge give ab solutely no clues toward detec tion.” At this, Pinckney pricked up his ears. Surely there must be a hint here, if one were but bright enough to see it. CHAPTER V. The Swede. All the others present, as well as the young reporter, looked on with eager interest at the con tents of the pockets were ex hibited. There were a great many arti cles, but all were just what might be looked for in the pockets of a well-to-do business man. Several letters, cards, memor anda and telegrams. The usual knife, bunch of keys, pencil, watch and money. Also a small pair of folding scissors and a couple of handkerchiefs. In a gold locket was a portrait of Mrs. Black, but there was no other jewelry. “Perhaps some jewelry was taken,” suggested a juryman, but both Avice and Mx*s. Black were sure that Mr. Trowbridge had on none. He was wearing a bow tie, and a soft shirt with its own buttons, the report informed them, so there was no occasion for studs or pin. The letters were read, as of possible interest. There were two or three bills for personal matters. There was the letter Judge Hoyt himself had told of sending to announce his trip to Philadelphia. There was also a telegram from the Judge in Philadelphia saying: l’eddie agrees. Everything O. K. See you tonight. Hoyt. All of these roused little or no interest. Judge Hoyt explained that l’eddie was the man with whom he was making a deal with a real estate corporation for Mr. Trowbridge, and that the matter had been successfully put through to a conclusion. But next was shown a letter so old that it was in worn creases and fairly dropping apart. It had evidently been carried in the pocket for years. Gingerly un folding it, Coroner Berg read a note from Professor Meredith that was angry, even vitupera tive. The bone of contention was the classification of a certain kind of beetle ,and the letter im plied that Mr. Trowbridge was ignorantandstubbornin his opin ions and his method of expressing them. There was no threat of any sort, merely a scathing dia tribe of less than a page in length. But it was quite evident that, it had hurt Rowland Trow bridge severely, as its date proved that he had carried it around for two years. And there was another old let ter. This was from Justice Greer and was a blast on some old po litical matter. Here again, a strong enmity was shown, but nothing that could be construed as an intimation of revenge or even retaliation. Still there were two letters from decided enemies, and they must be looked into. Avice, in her own heart, was sure they meant nothing serious. Her uncle had held these two grudges a long time, but she didn’t think any recent or des perate matter had ensued. Some newspaper clippings, most of them concerning natural history, and a few elaborate rec ipes for cooking, completed the collection found in the pockets. “Nothing in the least indica tive, unless it might be those two old letters,’’ commented the coroner. Pinckney was disappointed. He had hoped for some clue that he could trace. Like Avice, he thought little of the old letters. Those two eminent citizens were most unlikely to murder a col - league, or even to employ a rogue to do it for them. To his mind, there was nothing enlight ening in all the incpiest so far. Indeed, he had almost no use for the Black Hand theory. It didn’t seem convincing to him. He thought something would yet come out to give them a direc tion in which to look, or else the truth would never be discovered. And then there was a commo tion in the hall, and an offieer came in bringing with him a big, husky-looking Swede, and a pale blue-eyed little woman. “This is Clem Sandstrom,” the officer informed the coro Jier. “And this is his wife. You can g'ct - their stories best from them.’’ Ihe big foreigner1 was very lU at ease. He shuffled about, and when told where to sit, he dropped into the chair with his stolid countenance expressing an awed fear. The woman was more com posed, but seemed overwhelmed at the unaccustomed splendor of her surroundings. She gazed at the pictures and statues with round, wide eyes ,and glanced timidly at Avice, as if the girl might resent her presence there. . “What is your name?” asked Berg of the big Swede. “Clem Sanstrom, Ay bane a Swede, but Ay bane by America already two years.” “Where do you live and. what do you do?” “Ay live up in the Bronnix, and Ay work at the digging.” “Digging? Where?” “Aliy digging Ay can get. Ay bane good digger.” “Well, never mind the quality of your digging. What do you know of this murder of Mr. Trowbridge?” “Last night, Ay bane goon home, though Van Coortlandt Park wood, and Ay heerd a man groan like he was dying. Ay went to him, and Ay lift his head, but he was nigh about gone then. Ay try to hold up his head, but it drop back and he say, a few words and he fall back dead.” “How did you know he was dead ?’ ’ “Ay felt his heart to beat, and«it was all still. Ay saw the blood on his clothes, and Ay know he bane stab. Ay think Italian Black Hander did it.” “And what did you do then?” “Ay run away to my home. To my wife. Ay bane afraid the poliee think Ay did it.” “Did you see the police there?” “Yes. Ay bane wait behind the bushes till they coom. Ay bane afraid of everything.” “Oh, after the man died, you waited around there till the po lice came?” “Yes. Ay thought Ay must do that. Then Ay saw all the police and the dead wagon, and Ay waited more till they took the man away. Then Ay ran fast to my home.” “What did you take from the I body?” Coroner Berg spoke sternly and the already fright ened man trembled in his chair. “Ay take nothing. Ay would not rob a corp. Nay, that I wouldn’t.” “And you took nothing away l from the place?” The Swede hesitated. He glanced at his wife, and like an accusing Nemesis, she nodded her head at him. “Tell the truth, Clem,” she cried shrilly. “Tell about the strange bottle.” “A bottle?” asked the coro ner. “Yes, but it was of no use,” Sandstrom spoke sulkily now. ' “It was an old milk bottle.” “A milk bottle? Then it had ! nothing to do with the crime.” “That’s what Ay think. But the wife says to tell. The milk bottle, a pint one, was much buried in the ground. ’ “How did it get in so deeply? Was it put there purposely?” “Ay tank so. It had in it -” The man ma»fe a wry face, as at a recollection, ‘■Well, what!” “Ay don’t know. But it! II smelled something very very; j bad. And molasses too.” “Molasses in it?” “Yes, a little down in the bot tom of the bottle. Such a queer doings!” “Have you the bottle?” “At my home, yes. The wife,_ make me empty the bad stuff out.” “Why?” and Berg turned to the Swedish woman. “I thing it a poison. I think the bad man kill the good man with a poison.” “Well, I don’t think so. I think you two people trumped up this bottle business yourselves. It’s too ridiculous to be real evi dence.” The jurymen were perplexed. If these Swedes were implicated in the murder, surely they would not come and give ineinselves up to justica voluntarily. Yet, some reasoned that if they were afraid of the police, they might think it better to come voluntarily than to seem to hide their connection with it. It is difficult to tell the workings of the-'uncultured for eign intellect, and at any rate the story must be investigated, and the Swedes kept watch of. Under the coroner’s scrutiny, Sandstrom became more restless than ever. He shuffled his lug feet about and his countenance worked as if in agony. The woman watched him with solici tude. Apparently, her one thought was to have him say the right thing. ' ' — ;Y33S£': j j^nce she went over and whis pered to him, but he only shook his head. “Wily did you kill the man?” the coroner suddenly shot at the witness as if to trip him. Sandstrom looked at him stolidly. “Ay didn’t kill him. Ay bane got na goon.” “He wasn’t shot, he was stabbed.” “Ay bane got na knife. And Ay na kill him. Ay heerd hi3 dyin’ words.” The Swede looked solemn. “What were they?” asked the coroner, in the midst of a sud den silence. “He said, ‘Ay bane murdered! Cain kilt me! Wilful murder!’ and wi’ them words he deed.” The simple narrative in the faulty English was dramatic and convincing. The*countenance of the stolid foreigner was sad, and it might well be that he was telling the truth as he had seen and heard it. Like an anti-climax, then, came an explosive “Gee!” from the back of the room. People looked around an noyed, and the coroner rapped on the table in displeasure. “You have heard this wit ness,” he said pompously; “we have no real reason to disbelieve him. It is clear that Rowland Trowbridge was wilfully mur dered by a dastardly hand, that he lived long enough to tell this, and to stigmatize as ‘Cain’ the murdered who struck him down. ’' Uee! came the explosive voice again; but this time in a discreet whisper. “Silence!” roared the coro ner; “another such disturbance and the culprit will he expelled from the room.” The,re was no further interrup tion and the inquiry proceeded Several employes of Mr. Trowbridge’s office were called. Miss Wilkinson, the stenograph er, was an important young per son of the blondine variety, and made the most of her testimony, which amounted to nothing. She declared that Mr. Trowbridge had been at the office us usual the day before and that she had written the average number of letters for him, none of which were in any way bearing in this case or of any import, except the regular business of her employer. Mr. Trowbridge, she said, had left the office about 2 o'clock, telling her he would not return that day, and bidding her go home after she had finished her routine work. This created a mild sensation. At least, it was established that Mr. T rowbridge had gone from his office ealier than usual, though this must have been pre supposed, as Iris body was found miles away from the city at 5 o’clock. But nothing further or * more definite could Miss Wilk inson tell, though she was loath to leave the witness stand. (To be continued next week.) One “economical" plan, said to be contemplated in congress, is to add $5,000 a year to the salaries of con gressmen, as it would “only" cost the _ country $2,655,009. The invasion of Holland by radl-, cals and a widespread dread of bol-i shevlsm, is said to be influencing; many of the best families of Holland! to sell their homes and come to th* United Status. j