Weekly Calaveras chronicle., 1868-02-01

up as handy as work box without and
within, and with a burying ground
joining right on to the home lot," said
Mrs. Fascett.
My Story.
began my professional lifeas clerk
in the store Of Gilmore & Brother, in
the business like towL of M, in the
State of Vermont. There was another
young man about my age in the estab-
lishment, named Charley Coldren. He
was fine fellow, and I learned to love
him. We were always together, except
nights, when one of US would sleep in
the store.
At this time tragedy was enacted
which cast shade of gloom over me,
and my eyes grow dim with tears when
l think of Charley Coldren, and again
l smile when 1 think of my revenge.
One night, it was his turn to sleep in
the store, and I babe him good night
with light heart, and went to my
room.
When I went to the store next morn
ing I was surprised to find the door un-
locked. I entered, and my heart grew
faint at the sight that met my gaze.
There, upon his face, on the floor, lay
Charley, weltering in his own blood.
He had been stabbed to the heart, but
he did not yield tamely to the assassin,
for there were evidences of a struggle.
His clothes had been torn, and in his
hand was a bunch of hair.
1 was about to run for the proper
officers when 1 saw a card lying on the
floor. I picked it up and found it to
be photograph. 1 put it in my pock-
ct and ran for assistance.
The news of the murder soon spread,
and large crowd gathered about the
store; but they were kept back, while
the officers, the two Gilmores, and my
self entered to investigate the case. We
found that the assassin's object was
money, for the safe had been robbed of
two thousand dollars in gold
Two days afterwards Charley was
buried, and I was chief mourner, for he
had no relations. l mourned sincerely,
for he had been more than friend'to
me, and I determined to follow his
murderer to the bounds of civilization.
My employers were anxious to secure
the villain, and reward of five thous-
and dollars was offered.
| was burning to avenge Charley by
bringing the assassin to the scaffold, SO
I obtained permission of the firm to
track him to his lair. I went to my
room, drew the photograph from my
pocket, and gazed at it. 1t was the pic
ture of mild-looking old gentleman,
whom I at once knew could not be
guilty of any base crimes. I turned it
over and saw, g. Grows, photographer,
Boston, printed on the back. Ny re-
solve was formed, and I determined to
track the villain by that photograph.
The next day I was in Boston. I
soon found Mr.. Grows establishment,
and asked permission to look at his
negatives. I was allowed to do so, and
I found the one from which the iden-
teal photograph had been formed.
There was slip of paper pasted upon
the glass, upon which was the name of
J. 3. Montrose, No. -, Street
Boston.
I thanked the photographer for his
kindness, and repaired to the house of
Mr.. Montrose, to ascertain more about
the picture. I found him surrounded
by bis family, and I fastened to make
known my business.
'Mr. Montrose,' said I producing the
photograph, do you recognize this p
yes, sir, that is correct likeness of
myself
4 am here on business, and 1 wish
you to state to whom you gave your
photographs
4 had half-a-dozen taken,' said he;
I sent to my brothers in France, by
steamer; one to my brother in Ohio,
and have three left
Thank God! In what part Of Ohio
does your brother live p
I'm the southwestern part, in Ham
ilton, and is a merchant. He has a
wife and daughter he answered.
mo sonsf I asked.
sNo, sir; his son, Edward, died three
years ago. replied Mr.. Montrose.
! had found clue, and 1 arose to
go; but the kind old gentleman invited
me to stay all night, and l consented to
do so.
Our conversation turned upon the
murder, for he had read about it in the
Boston papers and I gained some more
information to the effect that his BROTH
er's daughter had rejected her lover
some weeks before the murder, as his
character was not good
The next day I left for Ohio, and
reached Hamilton in safety. In the
evening ! called upon Mr.. Montrose,
whom l found to be fine man. he
recognized the photograph as belonging
to him, for he missed it from the centre
table some weeks previous.
At that moment bis daughter entered
the room. / have seen many q lovely
woman, but Jennie Montrose surpassed
them all. There was no rouge on her
cheeks, but they bloomed with the
freshness Of the rose. Her father in
troduced me, and I engaged in CONVEX
sation with her, and at my request the
old gentleman left the room. l inform
ed her Of my errand and said