The Manitowoc tribune. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1866-1878, 1872-09-12

hand for rare occasions like the present
one. For 1t was not often that my
brain baffied me, and when it did, a
pipefuI of this tobacco would invariably
set things going swimmingly. L suspect
it contained a liberal admixture of those
fascinating, treacherous drugs for which
the east is famous, for its effects was al
ways indescribably exhilaratlng. 1t gave
me new life, new energy and quick,
far-sighted penetration that could crap
pie with any problem within the scope
of learning or information.
Perhaps | took more liberal allow
ance than usual that time do not know
that | did; but [ never felt so keen or sc
fascinating by anv work as on tnat par
ticular night | worked on steadily and
untiringly, conscious of no effort, and
completely absorbed in the tasks before
me.
| do not know how long had thus SAT
when strange incident occurred. 1t
was the beginning of the strangest expe-
rience of my life-an experience whose
| parallel | hope and never expect to pass
through again.
My tasks were completed. with the ex-
ception of one or two trifles, and | leaned
back in my chair and yawned. Happen
ing 10 look around at that particular mo.
ment-I beheld the door open noiseless-
ly, and Ward Sutfn entered. 1t was
about o'clock or after.
''What Is the matter, w ard p l
cried; for, there was bright red wound
on his forehead, and every vestige OF
color seemed to have faded from his
| face.
He paid no attention to my enquiry,
but proceeded directly to his desk and sat
down. He walked with his usual quick
step, and Immediately on seating himself
took pencil and paper and began 10
write.
Ward I say"
Still he did not reply. His pencil
| travelled over the paper rapidly.
Ward |" [ spoke loudly and sharp
ly.
| But he paid no attention to my voice.
[ concluded that he was so absorbed as
not to hear me, though that would not be
like him. | felt curious to know how he
! had received the wound on his forehead,
which, however, [ concluded from his
cool behavior could be nothing serious.
| took newspaper, rolled it mp into a
bunch, and threw it at his head, think
ing TO startle him.
Horror 1t seemed to go through him
and he went on writing, apparently IN
disturbed.
I gazed at him spell-bound.
Finally he threw down his pencil and
arose.
See here, old boy |" I exclaimed,
springing up and starting toward him.
But, without even so much as looking
at me, he walked quickly to the door,
! opened it, seemed to glide out, and clos
| ed it noisless after him.
L followed him hastily. Going into
the outer hall, [ expected to overtake
| him, but he was not In sight. | ran
across an Office boy.
Ibid you see Dir. Sutfn, just now ?''
I asked.
mo, sir
You did not ?''
mo, sir. There hain't been nobody
here.
How long nave you been here? p
IA few minU.es. | was Waitin' for
Sim. ~
Ward certainly just eamo out here
from my room"
Guess not-leastwise 1 didn't see
him."
[ was bewildered L returned to my
! room, and was just about to sit down to
my table, when / bethought myself to
| examine what Ward ia1 written.
! L went to his desk, and to my intence
astonishment and horror, read the fol-
lowing
MURDER.-Mr. Ward Sutfn, local
editor of this paper, came to his death
at the hand of assassins shortly before
2 O clock this morning. He had been
attending-as a spectacular indigua-
ton meeting at Muggin's Forks, and
while leaving, was set upon by three
rufians, and severely beaten. One of
the trio accomplished their murderous
design by striking fearful blow on his
forehead with small bar of iron. They
left his body in a cellar way in Pinche's
alley.
At first | was so transGxed as TO be
| able only to hold the paper in my hands
| and stare at it. [ read It thrice over,
scanning each word and letter in hor
ribe fascination. 1t was Ward hand
wrltlng-there was no mistake about
that; and Ward had written it, for |
had seen him.
Strange to say no suspicion of a prac-
| teal joke entered my head for an instant.
Calm reflection would doubtless have
suggested that explanation of the affair.
But did not reflect calmly. | pounced
upon the conclusion without delay, and
that was that Ward had been murdered,
and that had seen his ghost! Strange
proceeding would it not be, for q man to
appear after being killed and write his
own obituary? However the strangeness
nor the preposterousness of the idea did
not enter my mind, then. | simply &C
cepted 1t at once, with all its horror and
| wildness.
As | said, | held the paper in my hand.
read it carefully. | was In sort of stu
por for few seconds, and came sudden
ly to act. The place mentioned as the
receptacle of Wards body must be
searched Immediately.
L laid the paper down and went to the
door. As opened it gust of wind
swept in, creating quite commotion
among the papers. | sprang back to the
table. Wards manuscript had blown
off with the rest, and | stopped down to
look for it. just then l heard Bailey S
step In the outer hall, and [ called out
Bailey Bailey! Come in here, for
Gods sake I"
whats up, Peck ?''
He entered hastily, and spoke with sur
prisedsanxiety. [ can't distinctly recol-
lect, much less account for. my manner
on that night.
Its just as [ feared" | said, still
searching for the missing paper.
What is it?''
Ward-''
| ''What of him ?''
''He Is killed.
Ward killed? How? When? Who
brought the neNs2"
suddenly paused in my search, and
stared at him blankly, as he asked the
| last question.
Why don't you answer me?' His
voice was full of harshness and distress.
''Who told you? Where is he ?''
In cellar-way on Pinche's alley.
"Who brought the news? VIII you
\ IL