A MONEY-LENDER'S TOOL.

(By Detkctivk James McGovan in the

Sheffield " Telegraph.",)

There was a striking peculiarity about this case, which, when the first robbery in con nection with it took place, did not escape ray notice. When a house is marked out for plundering it is not usual for the house breakers to choose a time when the occu pants are all at homo, considering the noise likely to bo made in forcing an entrance. Even the picking of a lock is not always a noiseless task, and often so uncertain and slow that when that mode is chosen the cracksmen prefer to have an empty—or nearly empty—house to work upon. And when that favourable condition of tilings is found, the ruder stylo of work is generally adopted—a bracebit to work .some holes in the door near the lock, and the hand thrust through to turn the key in the lock and un fasten any bolts within ; or a window pane removed and the shutters dealt with in the same fashion. Now, in the case before us— a big house in the suburbs of the city— quite a plan had been followed. The occupants—a gentleman, his wife, and family, and two servants—were all at home and asleep when the house was entered. Xo violence had been used, even in eilbcting an entrance ; every door, win dow, and shutter was found securely looked or bolted as it had been the night before; and yet nuarly even;, r u<;n i" tl»j ho»M> had been entered —including the bedrooms— and some valuables removed.

Two watches were taken from the bedside of the owner, a clear proof to me that the burglars had known a good deal of the in terior and arrangements of the house, for these must have been taken and the room entered without the aid of a light.

The front door—elaborately protected with a chain, two bolts, a double lock, and a Chubb's check—had not been touched. The side door, .simply protected by a lock— the key of which was, for safety, removed every night and hung on a nail close by— showed no traces of having been touched with skeleton keys—unless they had been wielded by a master hand—yet after a close inspection of the place I was convinced that it had been by this door that the thieves had got in. The lock had been copiously oiled—pro bably with a squirt having a long and bent nozzle—yet when it was taken off the works showed not a scratch or a graze. The in ference was clear. The place had been entered by means of a perfectly iitting false key. I took down the real key and ex amined the works closely, but it showed no traces of wax, or dough, or chewed bread, or any preparation likely to have been used in taking a cast. Such a clever thief was not likely to leave any trace ot that kind. Yet a cast of the key must have been taken and by whom ? I was certain at first that one or both of the servants, wittingly or unwittingly, had helped in the robbery, and I examined into their antecedents with a sharpness which appeared to horrify their master. Failing there, I asked after fol lowers. Had they no sweethearts of un known character? —was there no baker or butcher who came for orders and received them at that entrance?—or was there no innocent-looking dairy-girl — who might have been bribed or induced to supply the cast or procure a loan of the key ? These in quiries and ferretings took up a good deal of time, but produced not the faintest vestige of a clue. The servants were not only above suspicion, but eager for the discovery of the thieves, as they themselves had been robbed ; they had no sweethearts —they wished they had ! —and the milkgirl, butcher, and baker all came to the kitchen door, which was at the back of the house. Who, then, camo to the side door? Why, nearly everybody, as the front door was entered from a bigger street round the corner. The children and family generally used the side door, as was shown by the narrow lobby there being provided with a small hatstand for the Doys' caps and coats. I asked for the children, butthey were gone to school, so I decided to return in the afternoon and question them separately. When I did so I turned almost instinctively to the side door to save going round the corner. W Then I had been admitted, and was in the act of putting up my hat on one of the pegs of the lobby stand, I noticed close to it a very shabby and glazed dress hat which had not been there in the morn ing, and which was too brown and decayed for me to believe for a moment that it would be worn by Bailie Collison, the owner of the house. It was the only hat which had no overcoat or mufiler alongside of it, and the time was winter, so my interest in the owner was aroused. " You have a visitor?" I said to the ser vant, when I had slowly disencumbered myself, with my eyes on the shabby hat and my thoughts busy. " Oh, no, sir ; visitors come to the front door," answered the girl, readily and pleasantly. " Then whose hat is that ?—one of the boys' ?" " Oh, no ; it's Mr Miley's—he came in about an hour ago. He comes every after noon to go over the boys' lessons with them, If he didn't they'd never learn a thing." "Oh, indeed, a tutor?" I responded, adding to myself, "the must be a dreadfully poor one." " I don't think he's exactly a tutor —he's a student," said the girl, leading the way upstairs ; " he's a student, coming out for a minister or something, and he does that to fill up his time, and get a little money. I think hehas a gey hard struggle, for he aye looks hungry and cauld," she added in a confidential whisper, as we reached the door of the boys' room. "We ayegi'ehim something to eat while the boys are at dinner, and he never leaves any of it." " Poor—needy—hungry," those were the words which passed through my mind as I entered ; but then they were outweighed by the other statement —" coming out as a minister." No, such a man could never be the invisible agent of the burglars, or the burglar himself. Yet I found myself studying curi ously the tutor's face and ap pearance the moment I entered. It was not a bad face—studious, cold, and thoughtful—but the owner gave me but a poor chance to see it well. He scarcely looked up, and even at the words, " This is the detective come to speak to the boys," did not show any agitation or alteration in his manner. His manner was stiff, and Mb face somewhat pale and careworn. He bowed slightly to me, and sent the eldest boy to me from his lessons. Not to inter rupt the studies of the others I took the boy out to the landing and questioned him there, and the others came to me there in turn. I discovered nothing. The boys knew nothing of the key hanging on a nail behind the door, and had never touched it.

They could scarcely have reached the nail by getting up on a chair, and even then with difficulty. My visit, then, was fruitless, and I left the house hoping to trace the burglar better by some of the stolen property. I was fairly puzzled at the house, yet it strikes me now that I had a lingering suspicion of the tutor with the shabby hat. I did not say so to anyone, and may be only judging from after events ; but that is the impression on my mind. He had regularly entered and left by that side door, and was looked upon so much as one of the household that the servant never

troubled to show him out. The key was quite within hia reach, and must have been seen by him frequently ; but then what object could such a man have in robbing, or aiding to rob, one of his bene factors ! Possibly that riddle was too much for me, and I gave up thinking of Mr rlichard Miley. Shortly after the robbery one oi the missing watches was recovered by the merest accident passing through the post. It had been posted at Leith, and though it was addressed "to lie till called for " —at Glasgow—it never was called for, and so the clue for the time ended. Leith wai far from Miley's home, for he lived with his father, a decayed scholar, at the south side of Edinburgh. We hunted round Leith pretty sharply, but got no nearer to the sender of the stolen watch, and there the. matter rested. Not a month later there was a second robbery quite as mysterious as the first. This time it was a main-door house at the north side of the city ; but again the principal entrance had been ignored; the bolts and locks were untouched; not a window broken or a panel injured, and not a soul had been awakened during the visit of the thieves. Had it not been for the tell-tale oil in the lock of the area door, I should have thought the invisible burglar a ghost or spirit which could enter by a key hole and louve by n chimney. The oil ? Ah, there was the clue, for the curious thing was that in this case also the door was protected by but one Inek, rind that was fastened every night, and liio key removed to a nail out of reach. Not a great deal had been secured in this case, and my impression -was that the thieves had been scared in some way, for they had not, as in the former case, locked the door on leaving. All thought of the tutor Miley had gone out of my head, and even when noting the identity of the handiwork in this case, I did not recall his face or form. After going over the area flat, however, I ascended to the hall above to examine the main door and its fastenings, and in passing through the lobby laid my hat on the hall table. As I did so my eye fell on the hatstand above, and I gave a powerful start and stood staring, much to the surprise of the lady of the house, who was conducting me. There before me, like a haunting spectre, was the dreadfully shabby hat! I could have picked it out of a dozen now. I did not even ask the name of the owner, and I dare say for a few moments looked decidedly stupid, not to say idiotic. The lady of the house was chattering volubly, but I heard little' that she said, and understood less. I was in a manner stunned by the discovery. The whole of my former suspicions flashed upon me with redoubled force, and I even began to chiJe myself for heeding them so little before. "You seem surprised at seeing a gentle man's hat on the stand," said the lady of the house, who was a widow, "but it is only the tutor's. I prefer to have my son and daughter educated at home." I bowed, and then quietly said— "Has Jlr Miley been long engaged in your service ?" "Oh, you know him, then 5" she re sponded, with animation. " Oh, yes, he has come regularly for two years. I sup pose we shall lose him gome day, for he is studying hard at college, but by that time the children will be able to go on with their studies alone." "I do not know him—l have met him once, that is all," I coldly replied. " How often does he come here ?" " Every alternate forenoon, except on Saturdays." I wondered if he ever was down near the area door, but I thought best not to ask her that. " What does he think of the robbery?" I asked curiously. " Oh, he's very quiet; he dosen't say much. Of course a student knows little of those things." More criminating links ! and yet more perplexing indications of innocence ! If he had been entirely free from guilt, would he not at least have mentioned the robbery at the Bailie's house, which had come within his observation so shortly before ? And yet, had he been the successful robber, in that case would there not have been some improvement in his clothing ? at least in his hat? Altogether the tutor was a mystery to me ; but one, nevertheless, that I was resolved to fathom. In order that no hint of my suspicions should reach either Miley or the lady beside me, I tried to impress upon her the fact that this was'no ordinary robbery, and that to aid me in my search for the author of the crime, it was imperative that she should mention to no one coming about the house the name of the detective employed upon the case. This being arranged without her sus picions once being directed to the tutor, I managed to get down to the area fiat before leaving, for a word with the servants. "Does Mr Miley stay long?" I casually inquired, while busy washing my hands, after chafiing the girls into a good humour. "About two hours—sometimes longer," was the answer. " He 11 have hard work, I suppose 5" I continued, carelessly. "Ay, has he, for Master Robert and Miss Emma are so stupid that no schoolmaster will take them in hand. They're awful dunces." " When he comes and goes, I suppose it's by the main door?—I see his hat up there in the hall." " Oh, yes, always." A dropper for me ! I had expected an other answer. I was silent for a moment or two on that subject, and though I was chattering away it was with an absent mind. "Mr Miley is never down here at all, I suppose ?" I at length ventured to say, getting back to the theme uppermost on my mind. •'No," said one servant; but the other promptly added, "except when he comes down to wash his hands, like you." " And he's been down once or twice when the mistress ordered him to get luncheon— a glass of beer and some bread and cheese. We set it in that room there opposite, but it's very seldom he gets it." " Is he a nice fellow?" I asked, meaning, of course, was he nice and agreeable, or in clined to flirt with the lassies before me. "Oh, he's far owre grand for the like o' us," said one, with energy. " You'd think he had a fortune at his back, he's that stiff and dignified." Again I was puzzled ; for, if Miley had been the criminal I suspected him to be, he would have made it a first study to be gracious with these girls—even if his de praved nature did not prompt him to such a course. It seemed to me that with every additional proof of his guilt I was to dis cover something tending to stagger my belief.

While drying my hands and leading the girls to speak of something else, I quickly determined on a prompt action. I had discovered the exact hour at which Miley left that house, and, by comparing notes, found that he had just time to attend one class at the college, and then go direct to the Bailie's house at the South Side for his afternoon's work. There waß, therefore, little likelihood of him being at home for six or eeven hours, and much might be done in that time. I had got his address from the lady of the house without directly

asking for it, and I resolved to go there. I had no warrant, and did not want one, as yet. The quiet way of working is best in such odd cases. It is a good long walk from that side to Clerk-street, and I did not go very fast, yet when I got there I was still thinking, and without any plan of action.

The house I found to be a rather preten tious half-Hat, with the name "Miley" on the door-plate and bell; and this fact puzzled me more than ever. They could not be £0 very poor when they could keep a house like that. I rang the bell, and after a long wait wag answered by a slip-shod old gentleman, with blear eyes, spectacles, and a general un tidiness about his dress. He was stupid and wandering, too, and invited me to enter, calling me by two or three different names in a breath. He smelt strongly of whisky and tobacco, but there were about him certain movements of dignity and politeness faintly indicating the scholar and gentleman. Richard was not at home, but might come in at any moment—perhaps I would wait a little ? There was no clock on the mantelpiece of the room into which I had been shown, and I found that the old gentle man had but a hazy idea of the time of day. So far as I could see the house was well fur nished, and one side of the room was entirely taken up with a library of well- nnd probably valuable books. There was no servant visible, and after a little I fathered from the old man's remarks that the came only once a week to clean up." nobly,:' said the father in one of his more lucid moments, " but he'll get out of the rut by-and-by. He'll be through the Divinity Hall in another year, and then his talent will carry all before it. Would you take a taste of spirits, Mr ah—?'' I declined promptly, and he appeared somewhat relieved. " I don't think there is any in the house," hetremblinglysuggested ; " I wasintending to go out for some, but the difficulty is to leave the house, having no girl. Would you mind me leaving you for a minute or two ?" "Not at all," I said with great alacrity, and yet with a pang of reproach and commiseration for the wretched slave " But are you quite able to go out?" "Oh, yes; I do all the shopping," he said hurriedly, and then he shuffled out, and got an old hat and shabby muffler about him. 1 heard him potter about for a little, muttering to himself, and then he shuffled back again. " I tind—that—that is—that Richard has gone out, taking the purse with him," lie said without raising his bleared eyes to meet mine. " Perhaps you would ac commodate me with a couple of shillings till he returns ?" He was shaking in every limb as he spoke, and the tone was one of almost piteous en treaty. Was it drink orfood he craved for ? I feared the former, but gave him the benefit of the doubt, and placed the money in his hand. He clutched at it with trembling eagerness and was gone, and then I went over the room and its contents rapidly. The student's papers and books were all lying open to me, and there was scarcely a drawer or receptacle in the room to which I had not access, yet I was soon convinced that not a trace of the plunder was in that house. I was slightly disappointed, for I had begun to believe that Miley had done the whole of the two jobs single-handed, and, of course, expected that an amateur housebreaker would have some difficulty in getting rid of the plunder. In turning over some of the papers, I came upon a small printed card bearing the words— " Moses Malachi. Money Lent |on Easy Terms. Hours : 10 to 10." The address was given at the bottom left hand corner, and was a pretty respectable street in Leith. Had it not been for this last word, I do not think I should have thought twice about the card. Who so likely to need the loan of money as a struggling student ? There was nothing remarkable in that. But then " Leith " and a Jewish name. I hurriedly copied the card and restored it to its place. Leith was the place where the recovered watch had been posted, and, though I knew nothing of Mr Malachi, I did not think a Jewish money-lender likely to be troubled with scruples of any kind. At all events there might be a connection, and I was thankful for a clue of any kind. There were four places in the house in all, and I had scarcely time to go over them carefully when thefather returned. He was much brighter and more loquacious than before, and smelt of fresh whisky, and from his conversation I soon judged that, what ever might come of my suspicions of the son, the father's only crime was a weakness for drink. After he had talked his fill I rose to go, saying—what I sincerely hoped would prove true—that I should call again. I left no name, and the father did not remember to ask for it. The remainder of the after noon was pretty well occupied by some in quiries after Mr Malachi. His business seemed a perfectly legitimate one, as I found by sending up a " poor working man" to inquire about a loan of two pounds, and nothing was known about him by the police. Some queer characters came about his "office," but that might be inseparable from his peculiar business. About six o'clock I was out at Bailie Collison's house patiently waiting for Miley to come out. I was all in the dark as yet with the case, but I had an idea that the leading-strings were in my hands, and thought that it would do no harm to watch the student's movements a little. They were furtive enough to excite my interest, but after all it turned out that he was only meeting a young lady, with whom he walked for an hour, talking earnestly. She was a real lady, for he saw her home to a big house in Newington, and she appeared to be devotedly attached to him, though in evident fear of being seen in his company. My suspicion was that her position being so much above his own she had been for bidden to see him. After seeing her enter her home from a short distance, Miley slowly made his way homeward. He ap peared depressed and troubled, and stopped more than once on the way to stand staring and thinking. After seeing him fairly housed, and a light shine out from his room, it struck me that as he had not drawn down the blind, it might be possible to have a glimpse at his work, and by going round to the next street, and ascending a common stair, I succeeded in getting a tolerably good view of the room. Miley was alone, with his elbows on the desk, and his face in his hands, evidently thinking hard. He at length got out a sheet of note paper and an envelope, and was about to begin to write, when he changed his mind, and got up to pace the room, shaking his clenched fiat at times, and looking troubled and wrathful.

At length, quito suddenly, he sat down and dashed off a few lines on a sheet of paper, folded it up, closed in the envelope, and wrote an address of three lines on the outside. Then after affixing a stamp he hastily got the shabby hat, flung it on his head, and turned down the light. I flaw down the stair, and was on the opposite side of the street when he emerged.

There were receiving: boxes nearer, but my man chose to go with hiß letter to the

General Post Otiice. When it was thrown into the big letter slip I loit all interest in Miley, and allowed him to go, while I fol lowed the letter. I had some difficulty behind, but at length was informed that there was a letter among those bein<' sorted addressed to "Mr M. Malachi. Leith." Good! When would it be delivered? By the first delivery in the morning. All right; I should bo ready for it. I went home pretty well pleased with the day's work. Though I discovered nothing tangible, I had a presentiment of a kind which seldom deceives me, that I was near the end of the tangled skein. In the morning I was down at the money lender's in Leith in good time, having McSweeny and other two men stowed away in convenient places close by. I waited at the foot of the stairs till the post man appeared, and then followed him up to the door. Three or four letters were handed in for the money-lender, and, as I asked for Mr Mulachi while the servant took them, I was shown in along with them. The money-lender was already at his desk, and he took the letters, and smiled and bowed ingratiatingly to me at the same time. ■'What can I do for you, sir';" he said, with the air of a man accustomed to dictate rather than obey. " You can open your letters and read them aloud to me," I said, in a tone that staggered him. He shrank back, grasping the letters ap prehensively, and staring at me with the smile dying on his lips. "I Uiiui; you've made a mistake," he said, after a pause. " Where do you think you are?' "In youroilice, Mr Malachi," lanswered, "and anxious to know something of your correspondence." He turned pale, though whether with anger or fear I could .scarcely tell. " What is your name, sir?" he demanded with the Hebrew accent coming out strongly in his passion. "James McGovan." In an instant he had thrown the letters into the fire, and placed his bulky body betwern me and them to prevent them being rescued. I closed with him, put all my strength into one effort, and rolled him over on the floor, and then grasped at the letters just as they caught fire and began to blaze up. The next moment he was up and reaching forward to a hand-bell on the writing table, but I got that out of his reach, and, putting my own whistle to my lips, rang out a call which was instantly answered by my men on the landing throw- ing themselves against the outer door and bursting it inwards. When the whole household had been secured, I ripped open the letters before the money-lender's eyes and found the one 1 wanted. It was not signed or addressed, but the words "South Side " at the bottom, where the signature should have been, left no doubt on my mind as to the writer. The contents ran thus :— "Sir, —I have considered your proposal, and I refuse ! Do your worst, I care not ! I have done too much already — sinned against God and man and my own soul, in making myself a tool for your wickedness ; and but for the threat you held over my head would never have yielded. Would to God I could recall it all now ! But though I bartered my soul for a mess of pottage— more on account of my poor old father than for myself—the weight of the crime is more than I can bear, and I refuse to add to it. Do your worst, but beware how you push your power too far, or I may turn and send you to the prison you deserve." "Do you know who the writer of that note is?" I asked the stout money-lender as I finished. He looked at the hand-writ ing, and shrugged his shoulders in affected ignorance. "Ido not. Some madman or enemy of mine, no doubt," was his answer. " Then I can help you. The writer is or a student or tutor named Richard Miley," I said with emphasis. " I saw him write it last night—saw him with my own eyes." " That is possible," he answered, a trifle paler, but still keeping up a brave front. "What is that to me ? I never saw him in my life that I know of." " You are not bound to say anything, and I'd advise you to take full advantage of the privilege," I observed in caution. " Only the innocent can afford to speak freely under such circumstances." He blustered and protested, but. seemed to think the advice good, for he made no further direct reference to Miley. We searched the house, but, as I had expected, Malachi was too wary a bird to have any plunder about the place. One of the letters, however, which I had recovered from the fire, bore the Glasgow post-mark, and contained a message in cypher to the effect that a certain list of articles had been re ceived in safety, and would be accounted for in due course. The paper had neither address nor signature, but the list correS' ponded almost exactly with the things taken at the second robbery. After having Mr Malachi and his household locked up, I went to the college and had Miley called out of his class. When he saw my face in the great lobby without he seemed to realise the truth that the worst had come, and staggered faintly back against the wall for support. " Malachi and the others are locked up, and now I want you," were the words that did it; and seeing him so agitated I hurriedly cautioned him, as I had done the Jew. He appeared to collapse and abandon hope at once, but when I brought out the hand-cuffs he groaned aloud and hid his face in his hands. " Must I have that degradation too ?" he faltered in piteous tones. " I will not run away ; I will follow and make no resistance. I swear it. Spare me that!" " Do you pledge your honour as a gentle man ?' I said, without thinking. "My honour?" he groaned. "God help me, now I have none to pledge! But I promise it; come, take me away; I have dreamed of this, and seen it for days and weekß." Before the Fiscal he remained dumb, but after some hours' reflection in the cells he sent for me to make a strange proposal. He would reveal all, he said, without stint, on two conditions—that his father should be kept in ignorance of the charge and his fate, and that I should as soon as possible find means to convey a true narrative of the facts to the young lady in whose company I had seen him the night before. I agreed to the conditions and then got his story. He had been induced to borrow money from Malaehi on the security of his father's furniture, pictures, and books, not knowing that his father had already borrowed money on them to their full value. This coming to the knowledge of Malachi, he threatened a criminal prosecution unless the money was returned. The man might as well have demanded a slice of the moon. At length, after driving Miley nearly mad, he proposed to him to furnish an impression of the key of any of the better houses fre quented by Miley. The temptation was strong, and, weighed against seeming dis grace and ruin, seemed the least of two evils. The student fell, and the money lender arranged the robberies in his own way. I regret to have to record that the case against Malachi broke down, and he was discharged, though only to be removed in custody to London on another charge.

Miley pleaded guilty, and in spite of the gravity of the offence, it being his first con

viction, lie got oil' with one ycur'ii imprison ment. When hi<s,term had expired he fuuutl his fatiier dead and the house shut up. ilut he was not quite- friendless and alone, even with the taint of crime and prison upon him. The young lady I have mentioned was then of age, and she persisted in meeting him, and loving him as strongly as butore—if not more devotedly. The;'" were married, I am led to believe, not lung alter, and quietly disappeared abroad, where she probably helped to lift him up into some sphere of usefulness and goodness.

The Mystery of Four Murders Solved After Seventeen Years.

SfiY-MOUR (Ind.), Nov. 27.—Last evening there arrived in Medora, a small town near here, a woman describing herself as Eliza

Kemp, agent for the sale of dress patterns. Seventeen years ago there occurred in Seymour one of the most blood-curdling and mysterious murders ever committed in this section. Subsequently three other murders were committed, caused directly by the first. For the past soventcen years these murders have been entirely sun ounded in the deepest mystery, and not until this morning, when the testimony of Eliza Kemp was given, was ths true history of the crime known. On January 3, ISOO, Moore Woodmansee, a wealthy merchant of Mfrlora, name to Seymour on his way to Cincinnati. lie nad $2,000 in cash to buy goods with. He registered at the Rader House for the night. Next morning he was missing from his room. Nine months after, a body was found in White River with the head cut on", and on examination the doctors proved it to be the remains of Woodmansee. The Rader House was ransacked for evidence of the suspected murderer. On removing the carpet of the room occupied by Woodmansee, blood stains were found upon the floor. Gordon Kinney, an employe of the hotel, was sus pected of having a knowledge of themurder. When the excitement caused by the find ing of the body was at its highest point an unknown man called Kinney from his doGr one night. As Kinney opened the door he was shot and instantly killed by the stranger. After this all efforts to iind the murderer were abandoned. In 1572 Reuben Wheeler was mortally wounded, and on his deathbed confessed that on the night of the Woodmansee murder two men had taken from Rader's stable a horse and waggon, which they re turned next morning with the bottom of the waggon covered with blood. Kadc-r was arrested for the murder, but was acquitted, and the affair was again a mystery. On the night of the murder a dance was being held at the Kader House. Toward the close Sam Long and A. W. Flynn, two gamblers, left suddenly. It was known that Flynn and Woodmanpee had had a difficulty over a lawsuit. Flynn threatened to kill him, and his partner, Sam Long, said the case should never come to another trial. After the murder these men returned to Medora. Every time during the many years that any new evidence concerning the Woodmansee murder was reported, it was followed by a meetin of these men. Suspicion began to point strongly towards them. Flynn then threatened to shoot one Err?ry, who had accused him of the murder, but Emery shot first nud instantly killed Flynn. Sam long then disappeared, and Alden Rodman, his suspected accomplice, was taken from the jaol by a mob and hung. Thus, from knowing the murder of Woodmansee, Kinney was killed. Wheeler mortally wounded, Flynn shot dead, and Rodman hnng. Seventeen years passed away, but the myitery had not yet been solved. Eliza Kemp teetified that she occupied room No. 8, next to Woodman- Bee, in the Rader House, on the fatal night. She said : "On that night I was suddenly awakened by a noise in Woodmansee's room. In a second I was fully awake and realised that someone in the next room was begging for his life. I then heard gome one say ' Sam, kill the .' There was a blow, followed by a heavy fall. Then. one said : He's dead, d n him.' They then agreed to take his body, cut the head off, and throw the body into the river. " I left Seymour early next morning, and have never told what I heard, as my life has been threatened time and again through anonymous,letters and other ways."

Portrait of a Dreadful Boy.

A letteu would be required to do justice to this Flibbertigibbet. Tho perpetual motion was never more nearly approached. Take equal parts of quicksilver, india rubber, whalebone, steam, and watchspring, stew them and stir them well together, infui-e into the mass (if possible) the in tensest life, diet the animal so produced with pepper and mustard and vinegar and ginger dissolved in oxygen ga3 ; feed him thus for a month, and let him fast for two days in a confined place, until his appetito for food and locomotion is equally ravenous, and then—not till then—you may have some idea of the mongrel, the hy brid between a flea with a bad conscience and a kangaroo that has had St. Vitus's Dance with which I was afflicted during three-fourths of my journey. I will not throw you into a fit of the iidgeta by de scribing his mana-uvres. He was emphati cally a bad child spoiled. His mother was a ninny, and her son did her credit. Trick and mischief in every shape ; poking people with a cane, tossing a top into their face, begging for oranges, munching Ormskirk ginger-bread and fruit tarts till his hands and face were incarnadined, making tho black one red ; then wiping the former on one's trousers; pretending to fall asleep, and then kicking as in a nightmare dream ; stretching over you to look out at the win} dow, laying his hands upon your book, at onco dirtying the page anil preventing your reading; standing on the i-eat, mistaking one'B coat tails for a door mat, asking silly questions, teasing a little child that was opposite till it nearly cried, sulking" when his mother chidhim, continuing to do in a most ingenious variety of forms what he was forbidden to do, exasperating hia mother till at one time sho beat him, and at another threw hia top out of the window in a fit of rage ; then howling and yelling till the passengers were tempted to throw him after his top, or, as his top was gone out of their reach, to whip his opposite ; moaning and whining because there was no water to be had, and he had gorged himself till tho last morsel stuck in his throat, like the laEt fat man in the crowded doorway of .in over filled church ; then singing or screeching popular airs, such as " Lucy Long," riding imaginary horses, and freely lashing the same in fancy, but his neighbours' legs in reality. Good Heavens !is infanticide in all cases a crime ? Is it not in such a caee as this the noblest heroism, a subline and patriotic, nay, philanthropic deed? Their boy is a thumping boy, four years old, aa restless as a harlequin, and as noisy as a mill-wheel without its regularity. Never theless, as he is not mine 1 may say that he is a fine boy, with a capital head — Life and Letters of Dr. Hodgson.

STAK SATURDAY SUPPLEMENT, JANUARY 26, 1884,

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