Lincoln County leader., June 13, 1913, Image 3

(Nddih(?loPece
Fletcher Robinson
Ohfluthcrm'h AConanDoye of 77 iowui cf AeDasAervJJks'&t
THE TRAGEDY OF
THOMAS HEARNE
(Continued.)
"I law you by the cairn and circle
above the Black brook this after
noon," be went on. "Is tbat to be tbe
scene of your present Investigations 7"
"I bave no definite plan at present,"
I said -with a snap.
He took a long look at me and
topped bis questions. .1 left tbe table
as Boon as I could do so decently, rout
ed out tbe landlord and engaged a
private room. I bad bad enough of
taking meals with a neolithic ex
pert It was blowing bard next day, a
Her co northwester tbat cleaned tbe
clouds out of tbe sky like a sponge
washes a slate.
Just after eleven I started out to
make a further examination of the po
sition. I wasn't such a fool as to
march up to the cairn with old
Hearne and a warder or two, as it
might be, spying on me from another
hillock, so I went down tbe high road
that lay as white and clear across the
gray moor as a streak of paint, until
I bad left tbe place some distance be
hind me. No one, so far as I could see,
was in sight, and presently 1 turned
off the road along a disused cart
track tbat seemed to lead In tbe di
rection I wanted. Its ancient ruts
were filled with sprouting heather,
and the short moor turf had covered
up the hoof-marks with a velvet sur
face. I had walked a good quarter of a
mile, when, rounding a curve of the
hill, I found the old road explained In
the ruins of a small farm, one of those
melancholy memorials of a time when
frozen meat was unknown, and it
paid a man to breed cattle and sheep
and cultivate a wheat field or two,
even on Dartmoor. The roof had
fallen In, and the woodwork bad been
carried away, but the stone walls of
the house and outbuildings still re
mained undefeated by a hundred
years of storm. A weather-beaten
cherry tree was pushing out its
spring leafage before the door.
Leaving the farm, I began to climb
the cairn hill, as I must call it for
want of a better name, which shel
tered tbe farm from the north and
west
It was rough walking, for tbe heath
er was set thick with granite bould
ers. At last I reached the top, skirt
ed the mound set about with stones
where tbe prehistoric chief lay sleep
ing and very nearly stepped upon
the body of that old fellow, Thomas
Hearne.
Luckily for me he never turned his
bead. Tbe wind on tbe face of the
bill was blowing in great gusts like
the firing of a cannon, and my foot
steps had been drowned in its thun
der. I crept back behind a heap of
tumbled rocks and dropped on my
hands and knees, watching him
through a convenient crevice. He lay
fiat on his chest, while he covered
the gang at work in the new ground
below with a small telescope.
It might be curiosity, of course, for
many men regard a convict as some
thing abnormal, something that is as
pleasant to stare at as If he were the
cannibal king at a fair. And yet that
seemed a weak explanation. Was be
in with tbe police T Had they got
news that an attempt at rescue was
to be made? If so, I stood tbe best
chance In the world of finding myself
in the county Jail within the week.
There was nothing to be gained by
imagining bad luck. I walked back to
the Inn, and sat down to a study of
the district with maps I had brought
with me. There was only one rail
road within many miles, and that was
the single track that ran up from Ply
mouth to Prlncetown village. At tbe
first signal that a convict had escaped
the station would be full of warders;
so tbat outlet was barred. South of
the moor, fifteen miles away, ran an
other branch line ending at Asbbur
ton. But I was determined to leave
tbe railroad alone. The stations would
be the first places to be watched by
the police. Torquay, some thirty miles
way, might easily be reached by a
good hone and trap within the day.
I could hire one for a month through
tbe landlord, with the excuse tbat 1
wanted It for my exploring expedi
tions amongst the atone remains. It
would surprise no one If It were seen
off the roads with a luncheon-basket
prominently displayed. So I decided,
I questioned the girl who brought
the meal to my sitting-room as to old
Hearne, but she could give me little
information. He bad arrived at the
inn a couple of days before 1 ap
peared, and had Epent most of his
time in long walks on the moors. She
thought he bad a friend amongBt the
prison officials, for she bad twice
seen him coming out of the great
gates down tbe street That was ail
and it left me more anxious about
him than before. It was becoming
rery plain that before I took any de
cided step towards the escape, I must
make sure of this man's business on
the moors.
After dinner I walked Into the inn
bar to buy a smoke, and found
Hearne with his back to the tire, talk
ing to tbe landlord. As I entered,
they both dropped into an uneasy
silence. I was certain tbey had been
discussing me, but I didn't want to
let them know It, and so began to
talk big about the scenery. I stayed
down for about half an hour, and then
allowed that I would get back to some
writing I had to do.
"I'm glad you admire the moor. Mr.
Klngsley," said the landlord, holding
back the door for me. "Nothing quite
like it in the states, I should think."
Upon my soul, I was as near as
may be to. owning I had never been
there. But I remembered tbat I was
Abel Klngsley, of Memphis. Just in
time.
'No," I said, "It's something quite
unique."
"It's a wild place, sir," he went on.
"Very wild and desolate. You should
take a walk one night when the moon
is full, as It is now. Then you would
understand how the stories of ghost
hounds and headless riders and devils
In the mires first started. Mr. Hearne
here is going to take my advice."
Tonlghtr I asked, turning to the
old fellow.
'No, Mr. Klngsley, I am too tired
to think of It tonight," he said. "To
morrow or the next day, perhaps."
I wished them a good evening and
tramped up the stairs to my sitting-
room, which looked over tbe moors
at tbe back of the inn. It was cer
tainly a splendid night with a great
searchlight of a moon drawing the
strange tors as they call the granite
caps of the hills in black silhouette
upon the luminous skyline. I lit a
pipe and eat there In the shadows,
thinking, thinking. It was pleasant
to be a decent, man again, to wear
clean linen and boots with real soles;
to wash and shave and brush myself
daily. I was back in my Eden days
before tbe fail, when six hunters were
in my stable, and men and women
were glad to know Jack Henderson
of Lowood Hall in the best of coun
ties; yes, I was away from Prince-
town village in the midst of happy
memories when I came to my senses
with the sound of a soft tap-tapping
under the window. There were tip
toe skulking footsteps on the gravel
of the yard; Heaven knows but my
ear had been well trained to such
steps as those.
I crept softly to my window and
peered out The man was almost
across the yard, moving In the shadow
of tbe pig-sties. As be stopped at the
wicket-gate that opened on to the
moor, be turned bis bead to tbe moon.
It was Hearne again.
I decided on that instant I slipped
on my boots and ran down the stairs.
The landlord was locking up for the
night as I came to the front door.
"I'm going to take your advice," 1
said with a laugh.
"Very good, sir; I will sit up for
you."
"No, no, give me the key. Has Mr.
Hearne gone to bed?"
"Yes, sir, about ten minutes ago."
"His room is on the first floor,
isn't It?"
"No, sir; he chose one on the
ground floor. He preferred it"
The wiser man, thought I. He need
ed no door when he had but to open
his window and step out.
When I got to the back of the Inn
Hearne was a good four hundred
yards away, climbing a low ridge. As
he disappeared over its edge I set oft
running at top speed, for I saw that
in so broken and rugged a place I
should have to keep close to his heels
or I should lose blm altogether. It
was well I did so, for when I reached
the crest of the rise he bad vanished.
Presently, however, I caught sight
of him again,- walking very fast down
hollow at right angles to the line he
first took. It led in the direction of
the cairn hill.
It was hard work, that two miles'
stalk across the moor. Sometimes I
ran, sometimes crawled, sometimes
lay flat on my chest with my head
burled in the heather like an ostrich.
Once I tried to cut a corner across
what seemed a plot of level turf and
struggled back, panting, from the
grasp of the bog with the black slime
almost to my waist But I took great
credit for my performance since the
old man tramped steadily forward,
showing no sign of having seen me.
He did not climb the cairn hill as
I had half expected, but skirted along
the base until he came to tbe track
which led to the ruined farm. Down
this he walked quickly and passed
through the doorway of tbe main build
ing. I remained upon the slope of the
bill, waiting for him to reappear.
Five, ten minutes . went by, and then
my curiosity got the better of my
prudence. I determined to go down
and see what he was about
The place was sheltered from the
gale, but I could hear It yelping and
humming In the rocks above, now and
cgain a gust came curling up the val
ley, setting tbe heather whispering
around me. I crept forward over ths
soft turf of the cart track, reached
the gap where the door had been, hes
itated, listened, and then stuck in my
head.
I had been a boxer in my. time, or
that would have been the end of me.
As I ducked, the heavy stick flicked
oft my cap and crashed into the wall
with a nasty thud. I Jumped back.
and he came storming out through
tbe doorway like a madman. I never
saw more beastly fury in a man's
eyes. I side-stepped, and he missed
me again it was a knife this time.
Then I woke up and let him have it
with my right under the ear. He
staggered, dropping the knife. As he
stooped to pick it up, I Jumped for
him and In ten seconds more was
sitting on his chest pegging out his
arms on the turf. He tried a strug
gle or two; but be soon saw that I
was far the stronger man, and so
lay panting, with a hopeless despair
In his face, that In a man of his age
was shocking to witness. He had
tried to kill me, but, on my honor, I
felt sorry for him.
"Well, Mr. Hearne," I said, "and
what does this mean?"
"Too old," he gasped. 'Twenty
years ago different How did you
suspect? It was Justice nothing but
bare Justice, by Heaven!"
"Now, what in the world do you
think I am?" I asked him, in great
surprise.
"A detective. You couldn't deceive
me."
I got to my feet with a curse at
the muddle I had made of it and he
sat up staring at me as If he thought
I had gone clean crazy of a sudden.
Tm no detective," I said angrily,
"though I was fool enough to believe
you were one."
"Then why did you follow me to
night?" he asked, with ' a quick sus
picion. "Why did you try to kill me?" I
said. "The truth ii, Mr. Hearne, you
and I are playing a risky game. Is
it to be cards on the table, or are we
to separate and say no more about
itr
He sat watching me for a time with
a puzzled look. Plainly he was in
great uncertainty of mind.
"Perhaps I bave nothing to tell,"
he eald at last
"A man does not attempt to mur
der detectives unless he has a crime
to conceal"
"That is true," be old, nodding his
head; "very Just and true.
There was nothing to be gained by
SHOWING VAGARIES OF FAME
How Rubinstein, at the Height of
Eminence, Refused Offer That
Meant Great Distinction.
Teresa Carreno, the eminent wom
an pianist, indulging in reminiscences
of her career of fifty years before tbe
public, tells a story of Tschalkowskl
and Rubinstein, which, in one respect
is illuminating.
Rubinstein, the great Russian mas
ter, composer and performer of his
time. Is seated In his study when
Tschalkowskl arrives and humbly
asks permission to dedicate to the
great man a concerto for piano and or
chestra. Rubinstein examines the
composition hastily; files into a ter
rible rage; shakes his leonine head
and asks the affrighted Tschalkowskl
how he dares to offer to dedicate this
"trash" to a man of such eminence.
Thereupon, Tschalkowskl leaves the
house, and by chance, meeting the
conductor Von Bulow, offers him the
dedication, which is accepted.
Observe the mutations of time!
Rubinstein was a great musician, a re
markable performer, but not a com
poser of the first rank by any means.
Tschalkowskl has sprung Into the first
rank of composers and Is generally re
garded by musicians as one of the
greatest musical geniuses Russia has
produced.
A dedication by him of one of his
works Is In Itself title to unusual dis
tinction, and will make for the per
petuation of any one's fame, while, as
a long bargaining of secrets with I
him. Whatever his business, he could
speedily discover mine If he chose.
If I were honest with him he might
return the confidence.
"I am arranging for tbe escape of
Julius Craig, now doing his time In
the prUon yonder," I told him.
"Julius Craig!" he echoed, with
wild eyes. "Tbe escape of Julius
Craig?"
"Yes. Do you know him?"
He burst into a scream of hysteri
cal laughter, swaying his body to and
fro, and pressing his bands to his
sides as if trying to crush the uncan
ny merriment out of him; and then,
before I guessed what he was about,
the old fellow was upon me, with his
arms about my neck In mad em
brace "Welcome, comrade," be cried. "I,
too, have come to find a way out of
Prlncetown Jail for Julius Craig."
It took a good five minutes and a
pull out of a flask to get him back
to hard sense. Then he told me his
story sitting on a fallen stone under
the old cherry tree.
Craig was dearer to blm than any
brother, he said, with a burst of open
sincerity. There was that between
them that he could never forget while
life remained to him. He had heard
how the man had come under prison
discipline, and bad come to belp him
escape If that were humanly possible.
Of me or my London employers he
knew nothing whatever.
He had been shown over the pris
on, having obtained a pass from an
influential friend, and while there
had learned the place where Craig
was dally employed. Yesterday from
the cairn hill he bad satisfied himself
that the convict was working in tbe
gang.
He had crept out this evening to
examine the stream and hedge which
divided the new enclosure from tbe
moor. When he saw me on his track,
bis suspicions as to my business were
confirmed. Either be must give up
bis project or my mouth must be
stopped. So he tempted me Into the
ruined farm. The rest I knew.
He spoke in an easy, pleasant voice,
with a perfect frankness and good
humor. It never seemed to occur to
him that he had done anything un
reasonable, anything to which a level
beaded man could object. I stared at
him in growing amazement
There seemed, Indeed, only one so
lution before me tbat he had become
partially insane.
"You must understand my position.
Mr. Klngsley," he concluded. "I am
not a lunatic, but I have made up
my mind in this matter of Julius
Craig. Any one who is foolish enough
to come between us must stand aside
or take tbe consequences. Towards
yourself, for example, I had no 111 will.
In fact I rather liked you. But you
must admit tbat, as a detective, your
presence was excessively inconven
ient Now that I know the truth, I
welcome you as a most valuable ally.
I am prepared to trust you absolute
ly. Come, what are your plans?"
I told him as we walked back to
to the Inn. He expressed himself an
admirer of their simplicity as we part
ed for the night Mad or not, I had
found an assistant who would be of
great help to me. So I let It stay at
that and slept like a rock till nine
next morning.
(CHRONICLE8 TO BK CONTINUED.)
the years bring a lessening of memory
of Rubinstein's wonderful playing, bis
reputation is bound to diminish.
Thus, even the pet of fortune and
circumstances can afford to be cour
teous, for posterity often rewards cour.
tesy and properly punishes overween
ing self-esteem.
Where the Weight Fell.
Among the ancestors of Wendell
Phillips were several Puritan clergy
men. Perhaps It was a push of here
dity which made him, at five years of
age, a preacher. His congregation
was composed of circles of chairs, ar
ranged in his father's parlor, while a
taller chair, with a bible on it, served
him for a pulpit. He would harangue
these wooden auditors by the hour.
"Wendell," said his father to him one
day, "don't you get tired of this?"
"No, papa," wittily replied the boy
preacher; "I don't get tired, but It la
rather hard on the chairs."
, For Reference.
"See that man over there. He Is a
bombastic mutt, a windjammer non
entity, a false alarm, and an encum
berer of the earth!" "Would you
mind writing all that down for me?"
"Why in the world " "He's my
husband, and I should like to use It
on him some time." Houston Post
Unable to Appreciate It
To some men popularity Is always
suspicious. Enjoying none themselves,
they are prone to suspect the validity
of those attainments which command
it. George Henry Lewes
ASPARAGUS IS HARDY
Select Spot Where Plant Can Re
main Permanently.
Land Should Be Deep, Rich, Fertile,
Moist and Cool, With Warm Ex
posure Plant In Row the
Same as Corn, Etc
One of the best and easiest growfc
f our garden perennials Is the as
paragus plant, says Green's Fruit
Srower. It can be started either from
leed or from plants. If one wishes to
aise plants to sell, plant the "Beed,
aut if asparagus Is wanted for home
)r market use it Is better to set out
pearling seedlings.
It Is Important in laying out the as
paragus plantation to select a place
where it can remain permanently for
If taken proper care of the plantation
will last for twenty years. The old
dea was the asparagus "bed. The
new Is to plant In rows the same as
:orn, etc., so that for the market gar
Jen the cultivation can be done by
lorse. The land selected should be a
ieep, rich, fertile, moist and cool soil,
laving a warm exposure, a gradual
louthern slope being preferred. If
he land Is originally hard and coarse,
It should be worked a year or two In
advance by the raising of some thor
oughly tilled crop, using as much ma
ture as possible In the process. Late,
leep, fall plowing is preferable, turn
ing under a thick covering of well
rotted manure. In the spring, when
the frost Is out of the ground, plow
furrows from six to ten inches deep
tnd four feet apart. If the soil ii
not of the best quality two or three
Inches of well-rotted manure should
be placed in the bottom of each trench
One of the Best Bunches.
and on this add a couple of inches of
loose soil. Then place the plants in
the trench three or four feet apart.
Cover with three Inches of earth, It
not being well to cover deeper, as it
takes too long for the young shoots to
puBh their way through. As the shoots
grow the rest of the earth can be filled
In around them by after cultivation.
When filled in, tbe crowns of the
plants should be about six Inches be
low the surface of the ground, for If
planted much less the roots will push
up to the surface and interfere with
the cultivation.
Wheat, Rye and Barley.
Wheat and rye have about the same
composition, although wheat is some
what richer in protein. Rye Is In gen
eral tougher and harder to grind.
Both are quite digestible, but less so
than corn, on account of the larger
percentage of hull. When they can
be had at about the price of corn they
may profitably form a part of some
rations. They are fed more satisfac
torily when ground than when whole.
Barley seems to rank between wheat
and oats. It is not used very exten
sively as a stock food In the east,
except when the quality is too poor
to permit Its use for malting pur
poses.
Grass Demonstration.
A new line of work of the depart
ment of agriculture and one that is
very promising was begun last year
In conducting demonstration experi
ments in grass. One hundred demon
stration farms of one acre each were
established in 20 counties In South
Carolina. An average yield of 3146
pounds of cured bay at an average
cost of $23.66 per acre was produced,
and in some instances as much as
5,000 or 6,000 pounds of cured hay an
icre was harvested. These highly sat
isfactory results have stimulated great
Interest in grass growing, especially
In South Carolina. A vigorous grass
campaign has been started in North
Carolina, Virginia and other states.
It is expected that 5,000 or more al
falfa demonstrations will be conducted
:hls year in Virginia alone.
Let us not wait until too late to
make up our mlndB about what we
are going to do in tbe way of poultry
raising. Let us plan ahead and then
just work it out when the season
comes. But in our planning, let us
not neglect the present work In the
poultry yard.
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