THB 60URIBR.
11
First Pub. March 23.-5
Matter's Sale.
Docket "T," No. 858.
In the circuit court of the United States, (or
the district of Nebraska.
Flavel G. Herriam complainant, vs. Landy C.
Clark, et aL, defendants. In Chancery.
FORECLOSURE OF MORTGAGE.
Publlo notice is hereby given that in pursu
ance and by virture of a decree entered in the
aboTe cause on the eighth day of June, 1900. 1,
Samuel S. Curtis, master in chancery of the
circuit court of the United States, for the dis
trict of Nebraska, will, on the twenty-third dnr
of April, 1901. at the hour of eleven o'clock in
the forenoon of said day, at the front door of
the Lancaster county court house building, in
the city of Lincoln. Lancaster county, state and
district of Nebraska, sell at auction, for cash,
the following described property, to-wit:
Lot number fifteen (15) in block number
twenty-seven (27 1 of Kinney's "O" Street Ad
dition to the city of Lincoln, Nebraska, located
on the south-west quarter of the south-east
quarter (sw. X of the s.-e. X i of section twenty-four
(24), in township ten (10), north of range
six (8) east of the sixth P. M. in the county of
Lancaster .and state oL'Nebraska.
' BAfctnovS. Curtis, Master in Chancery.
Francis a. Bxogan,
Solicitor for Compainant.
First Pub. Mar. 30-3.
Notice of Final Report-E 1373.
' 'County court of Lancaster county, Nebraska .
In re estate of John Schernikau,deceased.
The state of Nebraska, to the widow, chil
dren, heirs at law. or next of kin and all other
persons interested in the estate of John Sohcr
nikau, deceased.
Take notice, that Maria Schernikau has filed
final report of her acts and doings at adminis
tratrix of said estate and that said matter has
been set for hearing on AdiII 28.1901.beforc said
county court, at the hour of 10 o'clock A. M., at
which time any person interested may appear
and contest the same; and notice of this
proceedings is -ordered published for three
weeks 'consecutively In The Courier of Lincoln,
jjaiea uarcn :, imii.
(seal.) Frank R. Waters,
County Judge.
By Waits A. Lxbsk,
Clerk County Court.
FirstPub. Apr.-13 4.
D. J. Flaherty, Attorney, Richards Block.
In the district court of Lancaster county, Ne
braska. Laura A. Header, Plaintiff, 1
vs. I NOTICE FOR
Benjamin L- Header, f PUBLICATION.
Defendant. J
To the Defendant, Benjamin L. Header:
You are hereby notified that on the .... day
of April, 1901, Laura A. Meader. plaintiff, filed a
petition against you in the district court of
Lancaster county. Nebraska, the objects and
prayer of which is to obtain a divorce from
you, and to be given the custody of the follow
ing children, to-wit: James Header, thirteen
years of age, Hilo Meader. ten yean of age,
Nellie Header, seven years of age, and Etta
Header, four years of age, on the ground that
you have wilfully abandoned the plaintiff with-
out just cause, for a term of two years last past.
You are required to answer said petition on or
.before the :5th day of Hay. 1901.
Laura A. Meader, Plaintiff.
Certificate of Publication.
State of Nebraska.
Office o
Auditor of public Amounts.
Lincoln, February 1, 1901.
It is hereby certified that the
Westchester Fire
Insurance Co.
of New York, in the State of New
York, hat complied with the insurance lnw
of this state, applicable to such companies
and is therefore authorized to continue the
business of fire, lightning and tornado insur
ance in this state for the current year ending
January 31st, 1902.
Witness my hand and the seal of the Audi
tor of Public Accounts the day and year first
above written. CHARLES WESTON,
suit. Auditor of Public Accounts.
By H. A. tf ABCOCK, Deputy.
i
H. W. BROWN
Druggist, and
Bookseller.
Fine Stationery
and
2 siuug uuui ......
5 127 So.EIeventh Street.
I PHONE 68 J
THE KID.
Katharine Melick.
For The Courier.
PART II.
When the sheriff's wife entered the
woman's cell next morning, the look
of Indifference with which the prisoner
contemplated her proffered toast and
coffee was so heart-sick that her im
personal force broke down. She saw
the small pillow, twisted into the cor
ner of the cot, the forlorn shoes, yet
lying by the opposite wall, and the
whole figure of the boy, straightening
to meet her, and sitting now on the
tumbled blue coverlid of the much
rumpled bed.went to the mother heart.
She set the tray quickly across the
wash-bowl on the little Hack corner
stand. The coffee quivered in its pink
cup, as she took one step to the bed,
and caught the boy's limp hand in her
two strong ones.
"See here, youngster, you'll be out of
this a sight quicker than you came in.
There'll be very little time for you
here, and we want to make the most of
it. Now If you can handle a hoe, I
want you outside, today. Levi has no
use for anything but a stub pen. and I
have more farming to do than any
cranberry merchant"
Had the Kid lifted his eyes, he would
have seen hers, wet, but he merely
looked over at his shoes. "I'll get
ready," he said.
So his life as a "trusty" began, and
the sheriff smiled at the avidity with
which Mollis took to gardening.
Leaning her ample elbows upon the
top board of the garden fence, she di
rected the marking out of rows of con
tingent radishes, and lines of impossi
ble celery, and beds of blissfully cer
tain lettuce. But the second morning
found her over the fence, and even the
guard watched with interest while she
dropped the seeds in the round grooves
which the Kid had made by the pain
less process of laying the hoe handle
flat in the soft earth.
"Had my rabbit's foot in the right
pocket, this morning," he said, gayly.
"Now that's what I call a labor-saving
device."
"You desrve a patent. Have you in
vented many more?"
"Oh, yes. Been my long suit"
But.he began to whistle "A Fine Old
English Gentleman," instead of linger
ing on the topic which was of first in
terest to his listener. With his head
erect, like a wren taking his specifi
cations from your wood house corner,
he broke from the air into a trill of
bird song, and tossed his hair and his
cap together from his forehead.
It was the same light gesture that
went with his silent answer to the
proposition that the sheriff made him.
a few days after his coming.
"You know you don't have to stay
here, my boy. It's the other fellows
the old hands at the trade we're af
ter. Now's your best chance to cut
loose from that gang. Just give us an
idea where they are, and we'll have
you out of here, 'fore you can say
Scat"
As the sheriff walked away from the
cell, more than a little disgusted with
his ill-luck, he heard the Kid's clear
tenor insisting to the delectation of
the brown roaches:
I'm off to Loosians
For to see my Suziana
Singing Polywolydoodle all the day."
"Move on. Tom Harlan." he mut
tered. "One woman is enough to listen
to that musical little donkey."
And then, when Mrs. Mullenberger
came, that night, the sheriff snoke to
his jailer about sleeping with the Kid
in the office bed-room.
"We've got to give her the cell, and
it seems pretty rough to put that little
chap in. there with Mike and Shellady
and Nigger Jack. 'Sposln you take
him."
The office bed-room, or "cold stor
age," was a reserve room, seldom used
except In case of overflow company,
or of crises demanding extra vigilance
on the part of the keepers. It bad a
door strongly barred. That was a
convenient place for hearing what
went on in the prison, when dangerous
plots were astir.
More than once, the sheriff's wife,
listening behind that door, had heard
the tell-tale sawing underneath the
ribald uproar, which then rose to riot.
"When they're raising Cain, look
out," had been her deduction, and a
valuable one.
The night of Mrs. Mullenberger's
incarceration had been a boisterous
one, but there was a very natural rea
son for unrest within and without the
bars. The woman's husband had been
lynched for his part In the murder of
their adopted child, and the murderess
had been hurried from another county,
into the stronger walls of the Streetor
jail. All the next day the sheriff's
wife watched strange faces passing the
gate, with furtive glances within.
"There are too many Carbon City
men in town," she said, with her fin
gers on the handbag that held her re
volver. The second night they sent Mrs. Mul
lenberger, with a shawl over her head,
to the jailer's house, and the jailer's
daughter, who had worn the shawl as
she came to talk with "Mollie," re
mained with the older woman.
"If there's a mob, I want to be here,"
the girl declared, when the ruse was
suggested. So when the mob came,
and when their leaders were shown ev
ery cell in the prison, she stood very
near the office bed-room. The Kid sat
on the bed, dressed, waiting. No one
had slept He watched the men with
light curiosity, as they made their
way in surly silence through the cor
ridors, breathing the breath of tigers.
This Is not the story of the fight at
the house of the jailer, wheu Tom Har
lan caught with one hand the first
noose flung at the head of the mur
deress, and gripping the woman's col
lar, dragged her with him in his fall,
and with his clutch prevented a second
noose from choking her. It is of what
happened as the mob left the Streetor
jail, and only the Kid and the jailer's
daughter, for a moment, stood in the
office.
"Jump out of that window," the girl
whispered sharply.
The Kid jumped.
Two days later, when they had
picked them up not far from
Streetor, tying together a broken an
kle, the sheriff's wife asked him why
he did it
"Had my rabbit's foot in the wrong
pocket," he told her, and went into
his cell in the body of the prison,
without a whimper.
Next morning they carried him into
the office bed-room again, for Mollle's
convenience in taking care of his foot
"You're safe enough, now," said the
jailer grimly, but the Kid tossed the
hair from his hot forehead and mut
tered, "Sure thing," with little inter
est It was in the days of fever that fol
lowed that Mollie learned most of the
boy. Not of his home, for it was lit
tle, indeed, she could tell, when one
came, asking. But of the strange,
witching lad who had fallen so hapless
into her hands.
"He never thought of thanking me,
no more than a sparrow," she said af
terward. "He only brightened up,
whenever I came in, and he knew me.
When he was out of his head, that was
what I missed most When he was
well, and had to go back into the cage,
I hated to listen at that door. I'd
think of him. layin there on the pil
low, with his eyes tryin to laugh
when I shook the crock all over my
self; and then, when he wanted to get
out, and I warned him it would be the
cell, now, soon as he was on his feet,
and tried to keep him In there, under
my wing, till his time was up."
There was but one place for a pris
oner who had broken jail, and as the
Kid stretched himself on his cell cot,
to take the lower strata of felld prison
air, he listened to the simultaneous
click of the gratings, closed by the
turnkey from his station in the corri
dor. The roaches seemed clean in com
parison with the eyeless things of this
damp hole, whose brick walls were
moist with the reek of vilest human
kind.
"I've read of Spanish dungeons,"
said the Kid's bunk mate, a defaulter,
just entering the jail, "but I'd rather
feel a salt wave coming In through the
bars than this steam of Hades."
"It would be cleaner and quicker,
and no undertaker's bill for bath,"
said the Kid hoarsely: his cold had
seemed to increase, since the first
night behind the bars. 4
"They have a lightning process of
embalming In the old country where
I lived," the cashier returned, grimly.
"Drop 'em In quicklime in the prison
yard.
"Economical."
The cashier shuddered and swore as
a much-legged crawling thing brushed
his cheek. "Two weeks of this, be
fore my hearing, will finish me. How
much longer have you to serve?"
"A week."
"Make It four days."
It was the lowest of those jagged
holes, filled now with red bricks by the
precursors of the Shanahans, through
which the Kid slipped away, with his
comrade, within three nights of his
discharge. They captured the cashier,
seven years afterward. In South Amer
ica, and Tom Harlan, who had gone
Into the employ of the Pinkertons,
brought him back, hand-cuffed to him
all the way. It was the execution of a
vow he made, the night following the
delivery when a "trusty," encouraged
by the successful escape, knocked
down the turnkey just as he was lock
ing the cell doors.
It was early the next morning that
the sheriff and his wife still talked the
battle over.
"That nigger will kill you yet, Tom,
if he gets a chance."
"He'll not get It. He's all right I
know his measure. It's these fellows
that break away when they might
walk out of the open door, that take
me off guard. Within six days of his
discharge, and the Kid even nearer.
These kind are philanthropists new
breed o jail insects."
"They are that, Tom Harlan," and
the sheriff's wife felt for the reassur
ing touch of the revolver under her
pillow. "They ain't stealin' chickens
enough to get inside for their winter's
feed. But any kind o' men, shut up
like rats in holes in the wall, would
try to bore out I've listened to pris
oners sawing and sawing 'till it's on
my nerves. I'd like to get out, and I'd
never want to see a jail again."
"You'd want bars fast enough, if
once we was without 'em. But the Kid
is loose, and we'll just let him go home
to his mother, this time. It was Dono
van's lead. I'll run that measly cur
to earth, if he's headed for Greenland."
"The Kid will never go home to his
mother, Tom. He said that in his
fever, over and over. And he told me
so, afterward. Not unless he is able
to do something for her. He says it's
more to his fancy to pick up a living
as the blackbirds do, than live off
one's kin, like the cannibal bluejays."
