The Findlay Jeffersonian. [volume] (Findlay, Hancock County, Ohio) 1870-1881, 1876-03-10

his neck and pressing her hot kisses up
on his willing lips.
| His eyes met hers, and he read tn,
dark thoughts which she had scarce hal
expressed.
DO you mean if he was out of the
| way" he asked, to assure himself.
She only smiled i'll repiy-a devilisf
| smile, full of dark >uggestiveness. Be
fore the guilty pair separated they had
come to full understanding. He felt
satisfied that he had nothing to feal
from his supposed rival-the schoolmas
ter-and coolly arranged with the wick
ed wife that, as suon as the house wa:
cleared of Yankees presence, the hus
band should be murdered. Then, aftel
a considerable lapse of time, the widow
was to become Mrs. O'Reilly, and-no
inconsiderable item in his speculations-
the Wilson farm would become the o.
Reilley farm. 1t was a fortnight after
this bargain had been made that the first
opportunity offered for the consumma-
ton of the wicked design. The Yankee
was gone; the Wilson's only child-a
pretty little girl, only five years old
was sound asleep in her crib, and the
farmer, wearied by hard days toll at
late fall plowing, was taking smoke
before going to bed, when his wife Ethel
entering the kitchen, after brief alb
sence out of doors, and said to him:
''Henry, there is something the mat
ter with the horses, fear. They seem
to be kicking and going on awfully."
He arose with instant anxiety, and
stepping to the door peered out into the
darkness and listened. From the direc-
ton of the barn came the sound of furi-
Gus kicks by a horse against the wooden
walls, mingled with strange noises, half
neigh and half grOan, as of beasts in
pain. Hurriedly taking up his lantern
and lighting it, lie strobe off toward the
barn. AS he opened the stable door the
tumult ceased, but at his first step inside
he fell headlong, struck down without
an instant's warning by some unseen
hand. Scarcely had the poor farmer
fallen, when the voice of his wife-who
had softly followed him from the house
asked in a suppressed tone: ''Dennis,
is it done!"
Il guess so, but amt sure. Strike a
light, replied the voice of the Irish horse
doctor.
The woman, stepping past the body of
her husband, lgropcd upon the floor for
the Lantern which had become extin-
guished when the farmer fell with it in
his hand She found it and lighted the
wick with a match which her paramour
handed her.
As the little flame burned up, it cast a
crimson glow upon all the surroundings,
for one side of the lantern was covered
with blood.
Ethel Wilson wiped away the blood
with her bare hand. Then the light was
clearer and revealed startling picture.
At the woman's feet lay her husband,
with blood mating his hair, and yelling
forth upon the straw covered floor
Over him stood Dennis 0'Reilley. in his
shirt sleeves, with an ak in his hand
In the back ground were three horses in
their stalls, trembling and snoTting with
fear at the smell of blood. Their eyes
glowed like balls of fire as they stared
at tn horrid scene. Ethel Wilson was
quite calm.
''rll give him another good whack or
two to make sure" said Dennis, ''and
then stick him ahint the horses heels,
where it'll look as if they'd done for
him."
ga good idea," assented the woman,
holding up the light, ''but let me get
where the blood will not spatter on my
dress, before you do"
Outside the door she paused and held
the light while Dennis, swinging the muir
derous ak, struck blow after blow upon
the skull of her PROSTATE victim. Then
the suggested disposition of the body
having been made, the pair of assassins
walked to the house, conversing pleas
antly.
''How did you make the horses &C on
soy" she asked.
'poked them with an awl till they
were just wild, " he answered, laughingly
''but we must hurry, my darlin', for I've
got to walk back to town, through the
woods, and across the fields, before
am missed. The folks I'm living with
think that I'm in bed with a sick head.
ache"
In the kitchen he washed his bloody
hands, and the crimson water was thrown
behind the back log in the fireplace
Then lie took up the pipe which farmer
Wilson had laid down but Il few min
utes before and relighted it for smoke,
sitting before the fireplace with Ethel Oh
his knee.
''In few weeks, my jewel, you'll be
Mrs, DIR. O'Reilley," he promised.
They kissed. fundled each other, and
seemed quite oi.;:.ious to the awful
crime which sley had Just perpetrated
together. Suddenly the door behind
them swung opeu, aud, turning, they
beheld a horrid sight,
Mr. Wilson, a man endowed with great
vitality, had recoved sufficiently to
crawl from the stable back to the house
and now appeared upon the threshold,
upon his hands and knees, covered with
blood, blind and moaning piteously in
agony.
O'Reilley sprang from his seat with an
oath, and snatahiBg up a large butcher
knife f.om the kitchen table, dashed at
his victim once more Again and again
he plunged the knife into the mans
throat and breast, each stab sufficient to
let out a life. The door was deluged
with blood.
Claws. what mess commented the
widow Wilson.
O'Reilley's hasty acton had destroyed
their plan for casting the blame of the
murder upon the Innocent horses. The
knife wounds would tell different tale.
1t now came necessary to hide the body
and conceal the traces OF the butchsry.