The Loup City northwestern. (Loup City, Neb.) 189?-1917, August 17, 1900, Image 8

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    &he
Only
Way 4^
A Fascinating
Romance
C't) by
Alan Adair..
CHAPTER VI.
Another room In an obscure part of
7»ndoa; but this room was. though
poor, scrupulously neat anil tidy. It
was even adorned with a few flowers,
and some colored prints hung upon
the walls. A woman and a child were
sitting together In the one large chair
that the room possessed. The woman,
slight, still young, and astonishingly
beautiful; the child, one of those
brown, curly-haired children, with blue
eyes, who have sprung from parents
of different nations. The woman s
face we have Been before. Now the
only alteration In It, and one it was
that did not affect her beauty, was a
great sadness, except when she spoke
to the child, and then her whole face
changed'
•‘It is such a great city,” she was
saying—"such a great city. I did not
know it would Iks bo difficult to find
any one. I thought that when once
1 got to England It would all be well,
and now I have been in England more
than a year, and I have not seen him
And yet I am so longing to see him
once again, and to show him our boy.
Oh, how happy he will In?' How Happy
we both shall be! These weary years
will he as naught, and I shall forget
everything once I feel his arms round
liio again:
There was a step on the stairs. Ver
onica listened. She had grown more
womanly In these last four years, and
she looked more thoughtful. Sorrow,
the great master, had taught her
many things. Now she did not look
unhappy, hut eager and anxious. She
evidently recognized the footsteps on
the stairs, and It did not bring her
any pleasure. She was shrinking to
gether in the chair with the child
when Ihe door opened to her call
••Come In!" and Hutchinson entered.
"Good afternoon," she said, but
showed no pleasure at the sight of
him. "How did you find tne out?”
"How? It Is always easy to find
any one when you have a mind to,
and when you have any sense in
your head!" lie scanned Veronica’s
face as he spoke, and noticed that
she flushed slightly. “I saw you go
into a music shop, and I followed you
home the other day, and 1 made a
note of the road and the number, and
here I am,"
•‘What do you want of me?” asked
Veronica, rather hopelessly.
“My dear girl"—Hutchinson spoke
airily—“my dear girl, why could you
not have confided in your father? It
would have saved you a great deal
if you had.”
"You are not my father,” said Ver
onica quietly, “you told me so your
self.”
“Why quarrel about an expression?
I am the man who brought you up.
Veronica, why did you not tell me
that you had married Alan Mackenzie
and that this Is his child?’*
Veronica gave a great start. She
knew why she had not mentioned
Alan's name to him. She knew of
the hatred that Hutchinson had for
him, and even now she did not know
what to say, "How do you know?"
she asked at last. "Who told you?"
"He told me himself,” said the
man, watching the agitation that
Veronica betrayed. “1 should not
have known unless.”
"When did he tell you?” she asked,
her lips almost refusing to utter u
sound.
"About two months ago."
Veronica sprang up. "He is herp,
in London. Two months ago! Oh,
take me to him! Let me see him at
ouce! Why did you not tell me be
fore?”
"How could I?” the man said dry
ly. "I tell you you should have had
more confidence. 1 did not know you
were his wife.”
"How was he looking?" cried Ver
onica. "Oh, my darling, my darling’
Did he speak of me two months ago?
1 think we shall die of happiness
when we come together again!"
"No doubt," said Hutchinson. "Does
he know of the boy?"
"No The boy wsh born five months
after the shipwreck. 1 have told you
1 wu so ill after the wreck that 1 lost
my reason for a time.”
"I'ity," »a!d Hutchinson, reflective
ly, "that when you told me so much
you did not tell me all."
Veronica dut not answer Something
in the man's tone awakened her sus
picious. "Are you sure," she asked,
after a little silence, "that you do
not want to hurt turn
"Why should I*'* asked llutihln
s.m "No, what 1 want to do is to
make money out of him He will not
be able to deny me any thing when I
res'or* him his wife and child" •
That sounded possible. Vernal-a
smiled, and let hemelf lie happy in
the though' that what she had »•
longed for and worked for for years
was sImmiI to noma to pass.
'My dot ling, my darling!" she Mur
mured llui. tans-oi look-I at h**r
< uriousiy
"X >u seem fund of him M he said
the gave a glan e of on'-mpi st the
way he eaprt'sse-l himself til»e tg'it.M
the child up lu her anus
• My darting." she said Mniy llllb*
Alan * -i u « U’l ■ to » ■ u f i't •
at last"*
Hut* hius--a so thinking lie Is-I
a dim ult task before him lie lad
e"u»> l Alas to get niaifisd and lei
||ttii k'ai ***mt week* of kspprheet
before he began his work of destruc
tion; now he had to make sure of
Veronica. Hw would have Infinitely
have preferred a woman who would
have blustered, and have sworn that
she would have her rights; but Ver
onica was the sort of woman who
would shrink away and be lost to the
world rather than hurt the man she
loved. He had shrewdness enough to
see that the girl would say that it was
the only way to act, and that she
would sacrifice both the child and
herself; therefore it was Imperatively
necessary that she should know noth
ing of Alan's marriage, of his love for
another woman. That must come to
her as a surprise. She must be led ta
expert that Alan was longing for hor,
and would he overjoyed to see her
again; then would be his, Hutchin
son's, opportunity. He knew men so
well that he fancied they must be all
alike. Alan would not give up Joyce
—he felt sure of that; then he must
be mnde to pny for his silence. He
must feel thut he, Hutchinson, could
hold the sword over his head, that he
could let It fall at any moment. Ho
had rubbed his hands at the publicity
of the marriage. Alan Mackenzie
would never give up his beautiful
wife. Veronica would have to he paid
off. Joyce would not be Alan's law
ful wife. It was going to be a life
of misery for the young man, and at
l he end there would be Hutchinson's
dagger for his heart, Ilut the whole
thing needed careful handling, and
Hutchinson felt that he was the man
undoubtedly who could bundle It care
fully. Even If at the end Veronica
refused, as was possible, to corne for
ward and make Alan unhappy, never
theless he would have to pay for his
silence.
“He lives in n nice little house In
the country," Hutchinson said at
last. "I will give you the address.
Vou had better go by train. Have
you any money?”
"Yes,” said Veronica. “I was paid
for my lesions yesterday. I must
write to her when I have seen Alan
again. He may not wish me to go on
giving lessons.” But all the time she
spoke her face was transfigured. The
feeling that soon her weary time of
probation would be over was strong
within her. She looked with pride at
the beautiful boy, whom she still held
In her arms. “Will not his father be
proud of him?” she asked, longing
for a little human sympathy. “He is
handsome, is he not?”
“Oh, yes, he's a good-looking child,
although I am no Judge,” said the
man. In his head he was revolving
plans. “I would not go straight up to
the house If I were you," he said.
“The servants might not understand
it. You wait for him at the lodge
gates.”
“Very well," said Veronica, docile
as always. Hhe could not guess that
Hutchinson's one fear was lest she
should meet Joyce and so spoil his
whole plan He had looked Info
Joyce's face as she was walking with
Alan one day, and he could see inno
cence and purity written upon It.
Joyce was not the woman to consent
to the paying off of the first wife.
And so It wan decided that Veronica
should go down to Sumtuerhaye and
await the coming of Alan. It was a
lovely day in early July, when she
went down, with that precious posses
sion. her boy, hugged close to her
heart. The sun was shining and the
sky blue, the corn was waving in the
fields; and it was under the shade of
a leafy tree that Veronica awaited the
coming of the man she loved. Hutch
inson had discovered what train he
usually came by. It was so important
that Veronica should see him alone!
And sat there quietly straining her
her ears for the sound of his foot
steps. it took her hack to her girlish
days at La Paz, when she had often
watched for him as she was doing
now. Truly there had been no years
of separation from him, and no boy
beside her. As the time drew neater
the strain grew almost too Intense.
She put her hand over her heart so ns
to stop its wild beating, an ! the rich
color that generally flooded her cheeks
| left h-r, and *h« was pale. And sud
I denly she heard footsteps In th<* field
that was before he. manly footsteps,
which she had not heuid for four
; years, but with h she knew at once
1 hen a Agure v tulted over the stil >
and Alan stood before her
She (uttered to her feet holding out
the child lie looked at her wildly
and gave s gr*at cry. us If body and
soul were being rent iiutdir, ' Ver
onica' n Cod* o Coi'"
lie fell ha kwards ig III. >t the stile,
j covering hit fate with hts bauds, as If
j to shut out the sight of a g:ei! horror.
Btae stood trembling before him, push
ing her child In front of her. as if »h«
wanted to oUhii ftte hers- If and to oh
tfutte the child, but he Stool there
shaking and shivering moaning si
: Intervals. "\ Tunica! utioj't) (Sod
It *u she »||u ipokr li st h* could
Awl And words, or anything but th *
I piteous lout n, nnd her VObe Wa*
touching in Sl>|i|bilr Joy 'din. tlsH
It Is I saved from the sea. my deafsst
And here here Is out 4 Uitd Are you
ho, ylvtmi* T*ll toe you are phased
1 for I have longed to to see your dor
far# again* I le vs b.na'd m to htt
your Vi.t. • I < aun.it be tut* a it t.,.
i toms at lot'
Hh> tnm« gaits near la bint gd
vanning as site spoke. It spemed as
If she were longing for him to un
cover his face, to take her into his
arms.
“Alan,” she cried, "oh. my darling,
are you not glad to see me?’’
There was still no doubt In her
mind. She thought that the Joy of
seeing her had been too great, and
that, he was trying to recover from
the shock. She had no doubt, poor
soul, at all. He loved her, therefore
her coming to him must be inexpres
sible Joy.
Then Alnn uncovered his haggard
face. “Glad? No! It has ruined my
life!” he cried brutally. But for the
moment he could think of nothing but
Joyce—his Joyce, with whom life had
begun so Joyfully, and whose heart he
must now break, as Ills own hud been
broken. “I wish I were dead!” ho
said, with a sob.
"Alan!” The anguish In her voice
matched his. “Is that what you have
to say to me, your wife, the mother
f your child, who has undergone
hardships, and who has Just lived
on because you were in the world?
Oh, Alan, if you do not want mo, i
had better go.”
dhe turned, walking unsteadily,
holding her child's hand tightly. And
then a great temptation assailed Alan
Mackenzie. The temptation to let
her go, to let her be lost to him, to
say nothing to Joyce; but to go on
as If the dny's work had never been.
And then he saw In a flash what bis
life would be. How every moment of
happiness with Joyce would hive its
corresponding moment of bitterness
when he was alone, how he must live
a double life, always on the brink of
detection. Not worse, perhaps, that
the life parted from Joyce; but then
he would be an hones! man, and not a
traitor. He put his temptation away
from him, thanking God that he could
do so, knowing that Joyce would not
love a man who was dishonorable. So
before Veronica had staggeerd a dozen
steps away he called to her hoarsely
to come back. She turned at once,
obedient as always, and for a mo
ment he bated himself for his brutal
ity to so gentle a woman. Her tears
were falling down the beautiful face.
She looked up ut him with the old
look of faithful love, still pushing
the child towards him.
“Yes,” she said, questioning him,
“what Is it, Alan?”
“I am married," he said, crudely
and hoarsely, thinking It best to tell
her at once. “I thought you were
dead. I heard nothing from you since
I left you; It is four years ago. They
told me all on board were drowned,
and I could hear nothing of you.
What wonder then I thought you
were dead? And so I married, Ver
onica—I am married now!"
And then for a long time there wag
silence between them.
(To he continued.)
BAPTISMAL VAGARIES.
•Vim.* from South Africa Are f.lv.n to
l'n fortunate faunfitnn.
One of the resuts of the war in South
Africa is an outbreak of curious
names. Luckless infants born at or
about the time of great events are be
ing christened after the events them
selves, as well as after the more promi
nent individuals concerned. Hedvers
Buller Thompson was used a few days
ago, and Dundee, Glencoe and Elauds
laagte have all been given. At the
Cape, among the many curiosities are
Talana Elanda Smith, Belmontlna
Grasspana Modderivvo Brown and
Penn Symons White Robinson. A
Boer named Troskie, residing in the
Craddock district in Cape Colony, had
his son baptized Immanuel Kruger
Steyn Triomphua. The mania appears
to have taken South Wales in a very
acute form. A fpw ihv4 atm VIodHnp
River Jones, John Redvers Bailor
Thomas, Harry White Redvers Joseph,
Harold Baden Mafeklng Powe?I, and
Gzekiel Methuen Macdonald Baden
Powell Williams were the names given
to helpless infants hy patriotic parents
in Neath. At Pontypridd there are
poor babes (ailed Richard Coleruo
Scott, Oliver Colenso Williams, Kim
berley Clifford, Charles Redvers
James, ami Baden-Powell Williams;
and at Mountain Ash, Victor Colon o
Warren, Warren Sandford. Macdonald
Claremont, Methuen Phillips, John
Stanley Methuen Williams, and Baden
Powell Price. Mr. Shandy, father of
the famous Trlctram, it will be remem
bered, I relieved there was something
fateful In a name. The world seems
to have been blessed with a sutfii b>nt
number of Individuals of opinions
similar to this, else bow can one ac
count for such names as Peter the
Oreat Wright and Will.am the Cm
qurror Wright (twins!, King David
Haydon. John Itun) an Parsonage,
King George Westgate, Martin I.tithe,•
I'prigiit, Os-neral George Washington
Jones, I.oid Nelson Putman. Kntpres*
KuK' tiie Aldridge, and John Robinson
Crusoe Heaton? The parents, n i
doubt, hail a pious lutin' that the child
ren mi named would grow to b* worthy
of the grt-iit penout whose naniei
bad been appKtpriatsd. Tile hope hu
llOt tn*-u realised, for none of ItiMii III
' divtduil* *re« ever to have set the
Thames tui Are Ami perhaps It it
i rather well for huinintty that there
are no second editions of these "kings
of men Hit even quiet Until havs
their Ictus; hahte illsttirS. l.iulpFt
y.le tlio udia Nestor Ka M>rt l.y-mei
I m in, ig Hog Kchsnwpa Hu m Ki*
; Ctmiiwell I»i«at N'will |»<»art PI vu*
t tagenei |a still tivina la A sl-s i#o
haps be «U>* he Itevef altrtUI>'« to l« is
ill ht< i»* a ksnir ls»i<tou l.«s ,
Mari' it lusnli t» one of |l pt-b. ps|
s w ‘ »ts a i' s , - i uis .a K mss# !■ |
• rap will pt.ihlr fes> 0 $ > • tc I
• .aheis tad it hs» a pjpoiatt it <l u.y
! U.utw
The riots in New Orleans recall sev
eral famous outbreaks of past years,
which threw the crescent city of tho
south into a state of turmoil anil dis
order. In each instance the racial
problem has been the direct or indi
rect cause of the trouble, and In the
days following closely on the civil war
the political conditions were such that
outbreaks were frequent. It hus not
always been the negro problem which
has precipitated these upheavals, as
was witnessed in the riots of 181)0, the
wrath of the people at that time be
ing directed toward the Italian element
of the city, the charge being made ut
that time that the Mafia society had
caused the murder of the chief of po
lice of the city.
The first riot of any Importance In
New Orleans was soon after the close
of the war. It hail Its inception in the
political troubles which then were
rampant throughout the state, but the
real hostilities were brought about
when the colore.I population of the city
sought to take an active part In the
deliberations of the two political par
ties then struggling for supremacy.
It had been suggested by the federal
authorities that the constitution of the
state he revised in certain particulars
so as to conform with the new order
of things following the war. The sen
timent became so strong in 186*; that
the governor left the state for a short
time after announcing that he would
not call a special convention to take
up the matter of revision.
On July 20 K. 11. Howell, a Judge of
the supreme court, was selected to call
a convention, which was to he held in
the Mechanics’ Institute In Drydes
street. Shortly after 11 o'clock on the
morning of the date mentioned, a
large number of negroes, bead ad by the
American flag, marched toward the
meeting place anfld the hooting and
yelling of the whites, who had assem
bled on the sidewalks.
When the procession had reached j
Canal street, near Burgundy, a car- j
man pushed one of the negroes from 1
the sidewalk and In another Instant a I
shot was fired. It was found Impos
sible to transact any business In the
convention and an adjournment waa
taken. In the meantime the whites
had armed themselves and soon after
12'o’clock a pitched battle was fought
in the streets surrounding the Insti
tute. TJ»e result w'as that fifty negroei
and two white men were killed and
fully 200 of both races wounded. The !
I'nited States army officers Interfered
and peace was restored after siveril
days of excitement.
During the interim between 1866 and
1873 there were numerous disturb
ances of a minor character Ir New Or
leans, but It was not until March ol
the latter year that matters again took
on a serious aspect.
It was then that the so-called Pinch
beck legislature passed certain law.i
which were distasteful to certain of
the white element In politics. Pinch
beck, the lieutenant governor, was col
ored, and for this reagon the feeling
became all the more intense. The state
was governed practically by two gov
ernors—Kellogg and McKnery—anil
after many weeks of skiimlshing the
political bomb hurst in the streets of
New Orleans, and several days’ rioting
followed. Several negroes and whites
were killed and the hospitals were till
ed with the wounded.
In March, 1891,New Orleans again at
tracted the attention of the world by
indulging in a riot, which led to the
severing of friendly tics between the
United States and Italy and came near
resulting In a war between the two
nations. The lynching of eleven He
rmans by a mob was the direct cause
of the departure of the Italian minis
ter from Washington.
On Oct. 15, 1890, David C. Hennesay,
chief of the New Orleans police force,
was shot near his own door at night,
and died without being able to say
anything more than the "dagos" had
shot him. .Many murders and assaults
had been committed In the city by Ital
ians, and In the majority of Instances
the perpetrators escaped punishment.
Chief Mennessy had been Instrumental
In the extradition of Ksposlto, a fugi
tive Italian bandit, and had proved a
terror to (he lawless element among
the Italians.
The murder of the chief caused In
tense excitement among the working
people, and was Intensified when It
TARANTULAS GROWING SCARCE
Aiicooa M»n H»i N.vrr Gotten 0».t
Horror of Them.
“I've seen the famous ‘Gila mon
ster’ often." said an Arizona man in
the New Orleans Tinies-Dein oc ra t. It
is simply an uncouth, horrible looking
lizard, and I’d rather encounter a hun
dred of them than a single tarantula.
I’ll never forget the first time I ever
saw one of those giant spiders. I was
living near Phoenix then, and had
gone out to have a look at a mineral
deposit recently discovered on my land.
The place was some distance away, and
I was walking across a stretch of level,
sandy country, when I noticed a queer
round object, about the size of a man’s
clinched fist, lying near a little pile of
rocks. It looked for all the world like
one of those snarls of hair that women
take out of their combs, but when I
drew nearer I saw that It was alive,
ami recognized It from descriptions as
a desert tarantula. Its legs were all
drawn under Its body at the time, and
It seemed Indescribably lumpy and
sluggish, hut as I stooped down to get
a closer view It made a chidden, quick
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V
I
8C1SM1S OP THK NI2GK0 KIOTrf.
became noised about that the Mafia
society bad conspired to kill the officer.
Six nu n were charged with the murder
of Henne&sy and three others were
held as accessories.
After a lengthy trial the men were
acquitted by order of the court. The
verdict proved unsatisfactory to the
people of the city, and charges were
made that the powerful Mafia society
had used money to bribe the witnesses
and court officials.
Before the Sicilian.! had been releas
ed from the Jail a committee of fifty
was organized and after a mob had
been formed the frenzied men broke
into the Jail on March 14 and captured
eleven Sicilians who were there eon
fined. They were marched to the pub
lic square overlooking the old parish
prison and while thousands of people
lined the streets and housetops they
were hang -d to trees and poles and aft
erward riddled with bullets.
An Informal H« »l« h.
Governor Crane of Massachusetts
does not place much confidence In for
mal reviews of the state militia, and,
therefore, he surprised the Massachu
setts troops the other day by appear
ing in their camp unannounced, and
ordered an Impromptu review.
movement and then Jumped square at
my face. I dodged it by pure instinct,
and the thing missed me and struck
the gaud two or three feet away. It
ran several yards with indescribable
•swiftness, and then turned as if to
• barge again, but I had had enough.
I beat a retreat. Since then I have
killed a number of tarantulas and
caught them alive, but I have never
outgrown the horror they inspire. The
coarse brown hair that covers their
bodies makes them seem much larger
than they really are, and they have
immensely muscular legs. Their pug
nacity and strength are almost in
credible. They will attack anything,
regardless of size, and they make the
most amazing leaps through the air. Of
late years I am glad to say they have
become very scarce, and every fron
tiersman Is their natural enemy, and
the war against them is fierce and re
lentless. The bite of the creature is
said to be fetal,and I have known them
to kill horses, but I have no personal
knowledge of any case of a human be
ing who died from the effect of the
poison. Their Ill-repute In that partic
ular is probably exaggerated.”
The annual death rate of Geneva,
Switzerland, is only 14.7 u thousand.
L
St IN SIJ» \HK, I'AMnl S NKW OHIOAN* RANK.
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(hmese ind Japdnese Merctunts Compared.
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tut IkU r*»tu# J t| 4tt 1* 4ul«| h. *% '
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i imiitrliM «ii l \iiktU * Ihrmigli (ur*
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tta> *i»* ri.mmi u m twrrtiiii u *lu* t»
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nttnhi.il* hat* ilitii big |i.o |h«
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