The McCook tribune. (McCook, Neb.) 1886-1936, July 13, 1894, Image 2
for Infants and Children. “ O*rtori»lsso well adapted to children that T recommend It as superior to any prescription known to me.” II. A. Amman, M. D., Ill So. Oxford St, Brooklyn, N. Y, “The use of 4Ca3toria 1 i no universal and Sta merits so well known that it soems a work of supererogation to endorse it. Few are the Intelligent families who do not keep Castoria within easy reach.” Centos Menarx, D. D., New York City. Castoria cures Colic, Constipation, Sour Stomach, Diarrhoea, Eructation, Kills Worms, gives sleep, and promotes di gestion. Without injurious medication. “For several years I have recommended your ‘Castoria,’ and shall always continue to do so os it has invariably produced beneficial results.” Edwin F. Pardee, M. D., 135th Street and 7th Ave., New York City. The Centaur Company, 77 Murray Street, Nett York City. - DO YOU KEEP IT IN THE HOUSE ? PAIN-KILLER Will Cure Cramps, Colic, Cholera Morbus and all Bowel Complaints. PRICE. 25c., 50c.. and 81.00 A BOTTLE. W. C. BULLARD & CO., _ • • “ LIME, HARD ““ ss? llIMber. . as" WINDOWS, ^ ^ ^ SOFT _ BLINDS._COAL. _ • • \ _ / BED CEDAB AND OAK POSTS. U. J. WARREN, Manager. B. & M. MEAT MARKET, F. S. WILCOX, Prop. Fresh and Salt Meats, BACON, BOLOGNA, CHICKENS, Tmrlsie-ys and Fisli. F. D. BURGESS, Plumber and Steam Fitter. MAIN AVENUE, McCOOK, NEB. Stock of Iron, Lead and Sewer Pipe, Brass Goods, Pumps and Boiler Trim mings. Agent for Halliday , Eclipse and Waupun Wind Mill. MANHOOD RESTORED! This wonderful remedy guaranteed to cure al 1 nervous diseases, such as Weak Memory, Loss of Brain Power, Headache, Wakefulness, Lost Manhood, Nightly Emissions, Nervous ness,all drains and loss of power in Generative Organs of either sex caused by overexertion, youthfnl errors, excessive use of tobacco, opium or stim ulants, which lead to Infirmity, Consumption or Insanity. Can be carried in vest pocket. 81 per box,« for 85, by mall prepaid. With a So order we give a written guarantee to care or refund the money. Sold by all druggists. Ask font, take no other. Write for free Medical Book sent sealed In plaiu wrapper. Address NT £B VE SEED CO., Masonic Temple, Chicago. For sale in Me Cook, NeD.. bv L. W. Me CONNELL & CO., Druggists. R. A. COLE, LEADING MERCHANT TAILOR OF McCOOK, Has just received a new stock of CLOTHS and TRIMMINGS. If you want a good fit ting suit made at the very lowest prices for good work, call on him. Shop first door west -of Barnett’s Lumber Office, on Dennison street. — J. A. GUNN, musician and Surgeon, McCOOK, NEBRASKA. C. M. NOBLE, Leading Grocer, McCOOK, NEB., SOLE AGENT. fyOFFiCE—Front rooms over Lowman & Con's store. Residence—*02 McFarland St two blocks north of McEntee hotel. Prompt attention to all calls. W. V. GAGE, musician and Surgeon, HeCOOK, NEBRASKA. farOFFicE Hours—9 to 11 a. m- 2 to 5 and t to 9 p. m. Rooms over First National bunk. Kigbt calls answered at office. EDEE A fine 14b gold pin* < PllrP Ud watch to every ■ reader of this paper. Cut this eat and aend it te os with y our fall name and addrem, and w* will send you one of these elegant, richly jeweled, gold finished watches by eicrree for eiaminatioe, and H yon think It ia equal in appearance te any $25.00gold watch pay oorsample pric*,$3.5o,and H ia yoora Wc aend with the watch our guarantee thal yon can return it ntany time within one year if not satis fact err, and tj you mil or ca tae the sale of ala we will giea yon One Flee. Writs a! ones, ns we shall send out sample* for 60 dava onle. Address THE NATIONAL M’F'G "A IMPORTING CO*« HI Burton St., CUMgo, m. DOROTHY, POLLY AND I. Dorothy, Polly and L we three, Share every pleasure and jov that come*. Dorothy, sitting upon my knee. For Polly, the peerless, pours the tea And we revel in cookies and sugar plums Search through the wor d, if you will, aud try To And friends bound by a closer tie Than that which binds us good old cnuma, Dorothy, Polly and i Polly, the peerless, has lost an arm. And a single eye in a broken head Has somewhat lessened her pristine charm: But Dorothy’s love is a healing balm, "And never a tear has the dear thing shed So we laugh at sorrow and care defy. While I sing them an old-time lullaby, “Old songs are the best.” we have often said, Dorothy, Polly, and I. Somebody’ll saunter along some day Singing a song that I don’t know. Dorothy’ll linger to hear his lay. And the song will carry her heart away To the one who sings so sweet and low. And I? Well—I’ll shake my head and sigh. And think, perhaps, of the days gone by When we were chums in the long ago, Dorothy, Polly and I —Edgar Wade Abbott. THE MERCHANT’S CRIME. BY HORATIO ALGER, JR. CHAPTER L The Mysterious Customer. A man of middle age. muffled up in an overcoat, got out of a Third avenue car, just opposite a small drug shop. Quickly glancing up and down the street with a furtive look, as if he wished to avoid recog nition from any passerby who might know him, he entered the shop. It was a small shop, not more than twelve feet wide by eighteen deep. The only person in attendance was a young man approaching thirty years of age, his eyes and hair very light, and his features small and insignifi cant. He was the druggist’s clerk, working on a small salary of $10 a week, and his name was James Cromwell. Ho came forward as the person first named entered the shop. “How can I serve you. sir?” he in quired in a respectful voice. The person addressed drew from his pocket a piece of paper on which a name was inscribed. “I want that,” ho said; “do you happen to have it?” The shopman’s face was tinged with a slight color as he read the name inscribed on the paper. “You are aware, 1 suppose, that this is a subtle poison?” he said in terrogatively. “Yes,” said the other, in a tone of outward composure, “so I under stood from the friend who desired me to procure it for him. Have you it, or shall I have to go elsewhere?” “Yes; we happen to have it by the merest chance, although it is rather a rare drug in the materia modica. I will get it for you at once.” “The customer’s face assumed an air of satisfaction as the clerk spoke, and he sat down on a stool in front of the counter. James Cromwell quickly placed a small parcel in his hands and the customer, drawing out a pocket-book, which appeared to be well filled, paid for his purchase. He then walked^ out of the shop and to the corner of the street, where he wailed for an up-town car. As he left the shop, a ragged boy of 10, with a sharp, weazened face, en tered. “J want an ounce of caramels,” he said. “Wait a minute, do you want to earn a quarter?” demanded the shop man, abruptly. “I reckon I do,” answered the urchin. “Then you must follow a gentle man who just went out of the shop; find out where ho lives and what his name is. Come out, and I will point him out to you.” Just outside of the door, James Cromwell cast his eyes up the street and saw his late customer in the aet of jumping on board a Fourth avenue car. “There he is,” he said, hastily pointing him out to the boy. “You will have to ride too. Canyon catch that car?” “I’ve got no money,” said the boy. “Here’s a quarter. Now run,” “But I’m to have a quarter be sides?” 55“Yes, yes. Make haste.” The boy ran forward and succeeded in overtaking the car and clamber ing on board. “Look here, young chap,” said the conductor suspiciously, “have you got any money to pay your fare?” “Yes, I have,” said the boy. “Don’t you be afraid, old hoss.” “Show your money, then.” The boy produced the quarter which had just been given him. “You’re richer than I supposed,” said the conductor. “Here’s your change.” The boy put back the twenty-two cents remaining in the pocket ot his ragged pants, and began to look about him for‘the passenger whom he was required to track. The lat ter was seated on the left hand side, four seats from the door. The car rapidly proceeded up town, passing Union square and the Everett house at the corner of Sev enteenth street. Two blocks farther and the passenger first introduced rose from his seat. “Next corner,” he said to the con ductor. The latter pulled the strap and the car stopped. The gentleman got out, and turned westward up Twenty-ninth street Hake scrambled out also, and fol lowed him up the street He crossed Madison avenue, and did not pause till he had reached a handsome house between Seventh and Eighth avenues. Before this time he had thrown open the coat in which he had been muffled, for the weather was not inclement, appearing to feel that there was now no further need of concealment. He ascended the steps of the house, and rang the bell. The door was opened direct ly by a servant, and he entered. Scarcely j had the door closed when Hake also I ascended the steDs and looked at the door-plate. The name was there* ' but unfortunately for Hake, he had not received an elementary education, and could not read, j'his was rather inconvenient as it stood in tho way of his obtaining the information he desired. A schoolboy was passing and Hake asked him the name and was told it was Paul Morton. He was not sure however that tho boy had told him the truth. He went to the basement door and rang. “What’s wanted?” said a servarfl. curtly. “Docs Paul- Morton live here?” asked Hake. “You might say Mr. Paul Morton while you’re about it,” said the ser vant. “Yes, he lives hero, and what do you want with him?” "I was sent here,” said Hake with no particular regard for truth, “by a man as said Mr. Morton was a good man and would give mo some clothes.” “Then you won’t get them here,” said the girl, and tho door was slammed in the boy’s face. “Pve found out his name now,” said Hake, “sure,” and he repeated it over to himself until he was cer tain he could remember it. Ho re traced his steps to Fourth avenue, and jumped on board a returning car, and was ere long landed at the druggist’s shop. “Well,” said James Cromwell, looking up, “did you do as I told you?” “Yes,” said Hake. “What did you find out?” “His name is Paul Morton.” “Where does he livo?” “At No. - West Twenty-ninth street.” “What sort of a house is it?’ “A nice one.” “Are you sure you made no mis take?” “Yes, it's all right I want my quarter. ” “Here it is.” “Paul Morton!” mused the clerk, thoughtfully, “I must put that name down. The knowledge may come in use some day. 1 hope some time or other I shall not be starving on ten dollars a week. It may be that my rise in the world may come through this same Paul Morton. Who can tell?” CHAPTER II. The House In Twenty-Ninth Street. The house in Twenty-ninth street was a solid and substantial one which could only be occupied by a man of wealth. It was handsomely fur nished, and all the appointments were such as to confirm the impres sion that its occupant was. to say the least, in easy circumstances financially. But it happens often times that outward impressions are far from correct. It was a fact that Paul Morton, who had lived here for ten years, was on the verge of ruin, and knew that unless some help should come he would be compelled to leave his fine residence and sink into poverty and obscurity. He was a down-town merchant, but lived by the hope of large gains, had indulged in outside speculations which had sapped the springs of his prosperity and brought him face to face with ruin. Just at this juncture, on reaching home one day, jaded and anxious, he found that a guest had arrived whom he had not seen for years. Ralph Raymond was his cousin, and of about the same age as himself. As boys they had been sworn friends and comrades,and each had promised the other that if he died first, with out family ties, he would leave the survivor his entire property, what ever it might amount to. When they became young men, Paul Morton remained in New York, but Ralph went, after a few years, to China, where he had spent his sub sequent life with brief intervals, as a successful merchant. Paul Mor ton heard from time to time of his success,and that he had accumulated a fortune, and the thought occurred to him, for earlier generous feelings had been swallowed up in the greed of gain, “If he only dies first, I shall be greatly the gainer.” When he met bis friend, he found him greatly changed. He was thin, sallow, and to outward appearances hadn't long to live. “You find me greatly changed. Paul, do you not?” said Ralph Ray mo na. “Yes. you are changed, of course, for I have not seen you for twenty years,” was the reply. “But I am looking very ill, am I not?” “You are not looking well; but per- I haps it is the change of climate.” “It is something more than that,”' said Ralph, shaking his head. “Old friend. I feel that I have not many months to live. I have within my frame the seeds of a fatal disease; which I cannot much longer stave off. I feel its insidious approaches, and I know that my weakened vital powers cannot much longer resist, them. I have one favor to ask.”' “What is it?" “May I spend the short remainder of my life in your house? I shrink from going among strangers. It will ; be a great relief to me if I can feel > that I am in the house of my old ■ friend when the solemn messenger j arrives.” “Surely.” said Paul Morton. “I | hope you are mistake® in your , gloomv prognostications; but, how- j ever that may be. you shall be wel- I come here as long as itt pleases you j to stay.” “Thank you; I was sure you would j consent. As to my being mistaken, | that is hardly possible. This time | next year i shall not be numbered among the living.” Looking at his thin face and at tenuated frame. Paul Morton felt that his words were probably cor- i rect. and his heart glowed with ex- j ultation as he felt that Ralph Ray- 1 1 mond was without family ties, and : that at his death, which would soon happen, in all probability his large fortune, one hundred thousand dol lars at least, would become his. This would relieve him of all his em barassmcnts, and give him a iirm financial standing. Shortly after Ralph Raymond was confined to his bed by sickness. The physician who was called spoke am biguously. He might dio suddenly, or he might linger for u year. Days and weeks passed, and still ho re mained in about tile same condition, so that the last seemed likely to be the correct prediction. In the meanwhile, Raul Morton’s affairs had become moro and more embarassed. Ho had plunged into speculations from which he. did not see the way out. He perceived his mistake, but too late. Nothing was left but for him to float with the tide, and be borno where it might carry him. As time wore on, und his pecuniary difficulties increased, he began to long for his friend’s death. “A few months more or less of life would be of little importance to him.” ho thought, “while to me it is of in calculable importance to come into his estate as soon as possible.” The moro he thought of it the more frequently the suggestion was forced upon him that his friend’s early death was most desirable. At length, as ho was in a book store on Nassau street one day, lie picked up an old medical work, in which there was one division which treated of poisons. One was mentioned, of a subtle character, whoso agency was difficult of detection. It must not accomplish its purpose at once, but it required some days. Raul Morton bought this book, and when he reached home he locked it up se curely in a drawer accessible only to himself. I he poison which no sought in tho small shop on the Bowery was the same whose effects he had seen de scribed in the volume he had pur chased in Nassau street. He had an object in going to an obscure shop, as he would be less likely to bo known, and such a purchase would be very apt to attract notice. But it was only by chance that ho suc ceeded. In most shops of such hum ble pretensions such an article would not be found, but it so happened that some had been ordered by a chemist a year before, and the drug gist. thinking it possible ho might have a call for it, had ordered some to keep in his stock. When Paul Morton reached home, he went up to his friend’s chamber, lialph Baymond was lying stretched out upon the bed, looking quite sick: but not so sick as at times during his illness. “How do you feel, Kaiph?” said his false friend, bending over him. “I am feeling more comfortable to-day, Paul,” he said. •■Perhaps you will recover vet.” “No. I have no expectation of that; but I may be spared longer than I supposed possible.” “I certainly hope so,” said Paul Morton: but there was a false ring in his voice, though, the sick man, who had no doubt of his sin cere friendship, was far enough from detecting this. “I know you do,” said Halph. “What medicines are you taking now'” inquired Paul Morton. “There is* a bottle of cordial: I take a wine-glass of it once an hour. ” Paul Morton took it up and gazed at it thoughtfully. “Is your nurse attentive?" he asked. ••Yes, I have no fault to find with her.” “Where is she now?” “She just went down to prepare my dinner.” “And when did you take your cor dial last?” “About an hour since.” “Then it is time to take it again.’ “Yes, I presume so; but I presume a few minutes iater will make no dif ference.” [TO BE CONTINUED.] Busines* and That Only. Charles S. Scanlan, of the Cincin nati Enquirer — John K. McLean’s paper—was once sent into a small town in the Southwest, says the Journalist, to get the story of a-wo man evangelist who had been greatly talked about.. Scanlan attended one of her meetings, and occupied, a front seat- When those who wished to be saved were asked to arise, Scanlan kept his seat and used his note-book. The woman approached, and, taking him by the hand, said: •‘Come to Jesus.” “Madam.” said the newspaper man, “I'm here solely on business to report your work.”' “Brother,” she said, “there is no. business so important as God's.” ••Well, maybe not,” said Scanlan: ••but you don’t know John McLean. ”' Wise Wolf. The portly, well-dressed gentle man. whose specialty was chattel, mortgages, arose to address the meeting of the unemployed. Said he: "The chief cause of cfe tress in this prosperous land is a lack of frugality and thrift You talk of the wolf at the- door. He never comes to my door. ” “I guess he’s afraid of getting skinned,” shouted some irreverent person in the audience> and the portly gentleman sat down. The Polite Kriitor. Poet—I have here, sir, a poen. which I wish to have printed in your paper. Editor, looking it over—We can’t print it to-day or to-morrow. Would it suit you as well at some later date? Poet, gratefully—Oh. any time would be perfectly satisfactory. Use your own pleasure about that Editor—Very welL We ll try to get it iu sometime iu the spring of 1991 Tlie Real Demon of the Marsh Is not a spook, but a reality. It is neither a “bogie" nor a "kelpie," nor any other of those spirits which the credulous have sup posed to haunt the banks of rivers and streams after dusk. Its name is malaria, and though Invisible, It Is very terrible and tenacious whon It seizes you. H os tetter s Stomach Bitters drives It away, nor will it attack thoso whose systems are fortified with the great medicinal defensive agent. The miasmatic mists of early morning, the vapors exhaled at eventide may be safely breathed by those protected by the Bitters. In the tropics whero every form of malarial disease threatens the sojourner, and is par ticularly virulent when developed, the Bit ters is the best reliance of the inhabitant. For dyspepsia, liver complaint, lacs of vigor, appetite and sleep; for rheumatism and nervousness the Bitters are a sure and safe remedy. Their Kind of Dog. Bogton Transcript. “Now, boys,” said the teacher, “1 need not tell you any further of the duty of cultivating a kindly disposi tion; but I will tell you a little story about two dogs. George had a nice little dog, that was as gentleas a lamb. He would sit by George’s side quietly for an hour at a time. He would not bark at the passers-by nor at strange dogs, and would never bite anybody or anything Thomas’ dog, on the con trary, was always fighting other dogs, and would sometimes tear them quite cruelly He would also fly at the hens and cats in the neighborhood, and on several occasions he had been known to seize .a cow by the nostrils and throw her. He barked at all the strange men who came along, and would bite them unless somebody interfered. Now, boys, which was the dog you would like to own, George’s or Thomas’?” In stantly came the answer in one eager shout, “Thomas’!” It Is Not What We Say But what Hood's Sarsaparilla does that tell* the story. The great volume of evidence In the form of unpurehased. voluntary testimonial* prove beyond doubt that Hood’s Pills cure habitual constipation. W. L Douclas £* ytf’tie 13 THE BEST. NO SQUEAKING. $5. CORDOVAN, FRENCH®. ENAMELLED CALF. $4.$3.5-° FINECALF&KAN5AS01 $ 3.5P FOLICE.a Soles. <or^>2-W0RKINGMEfjg ^' EXTRA FINE. *2A7-5GoysSchoolShoE3. •LADIES FCR CATALOGUE L.0 DOUGLAS* BROCKTON, MASS. You cun ravo money b7 Trenriner th© \V. L. Douglaw 83.00 Bliofi. Jlecnnso, tro are the largest manufacturers of this grade of shoes iat ho world, aml guarantee their value by stamping the narno cad price on the bottom, which protect you against high prices and the middleman’s profits. Our shoes equal custom work in Btyle, easy fitting and wearing qualities. We have them sold everywhere at lower prices for the value given than any other make. Take no sub stitute. If your dealer cannot supply you, wo can. “FREE! TU I C 1/MltC I Fine Steel Keen as u razor, llilo iXiiIiL! Good, strong handle. Mailed free in exchange for 25 Large Lion Heads cut from Lion Coffee Wrappers, and a 2-oent stamp to pav postage. Write for list of our other fine Pre miums. WOOLSON SPICE CO.. 450 Huron St. Toledo O Davis- Cream Separator Chora, power hot water and feed cooker combined. Agents wanted. Send for circular. All sizes Hand Cream Separators. Davis Kackin li. & M. Co. Chicago D_ E Pt. Band, Iron Hoop OAK BASKET. A Basket You Can Water Your Horses With. Costa no More-Than Any ocher Kindt*, hut Will SD AHYTHINO. FREE ■ Ruppert’s FACE BLEACH Appreciating the fact that thousands of ladias of the U. Sw-ha.«» unturned asy Fa>« Bleach, on acaount of price, with in |? per bottle, sod ifi order that *u. stay grrort a fair trial, I will Send a.Saaipf# Bottle,aafelr parked, all chargeaprepaid, «w rerrrpt ot »5c. FACS BLEACH rrmoea tml rare* a»-« Intelv all frackJea, pitapiea, Moth. feint kb** is, mallow. n«i», an*. eoi**t»*, wrinkle*, or rough neat at . nkin.and hegntffirs the e*mpl*x*r>n. Address Nlme. A. RURT ERT,6E. 14th St.,N.Y.City IeiYs CREAM BALM CURES PRICESOCENTsi ALL DRU6CISTS | P" CLAIMANTS WHO niy sin X Iir * n 9 p from their Attorii*?y*i uAHilU I NLAll ■ ■ ortliet:omnrv«*ioner,wl» write-to N AT HAM BICKFORD,PMuAon A Patent AU’j, w 14 Fm" Washington, D.C.. they will receive a prompt rej>ly. ■ 1 """." .. - . »*• OMAHA BUHouses. n ! ah* I a Repairing and Bicycle Sundries. A. a n P.VP. H PKRRIGO A CO., 1212 Douglas 8** UIUJUIU Omaha, Cat&loiue mailed tree. King Paper Colp Hotel DeilonelMI Bmt 8S.OO a d*r lioua* In the iut«. Ria proa# «EID At CASEY. Proprietor*. SjMDrmUoodsll VII It V fashionable Mlks.Dress Goods and toe Laces in America at lowest prtoe* •▼er known. Samples free. It pays to ke#n noiUtfL Write to HAYBSff lUCI., Onaku.