The Findlay Jeffersonian. [volume] (Findlay, Hancock County, Ohio) 1870-1881, 1877-08-31

But he had not gone ten wards before
. he halted
The trap might nave been set little
easier he said TO himself at has not
been worked much, and the easier it is
set the surer | will be ofmy prey"
q. Intent upon readjusting the devilish
invention, the blacksmith retraeed his
steps, and for the second time in that
lonely spot, bent over the cross ties.
. He placed his knees upon the spring
to prevent the jaws from closing and
catching their maker. while he tampered
with the trigger.
He was in the midst of his work.
when, from some unaecountable cause
his Knees slipped from the spring, and
oh, horror, the mighty jaws closed about
his wrists.
With cry indeseribably full of agony.
the entrspped man tried to spring to his
feet, but the trap, fastened to the rails rs
it was, held him down securely.
The sharp teeth seemed to cut into the
very marrow of his bones, and he was
Experiencing the horror of human be-
ing caught in trap.
He tried to crush the spring, but il
would not yield to the power which he
had lately owned, and then he tried to
tear himself loose.
But the pain occasioned by his efforts
was so great that he was forced TO des;st
lest he should faint, and in that cOndi-
ton be caught by the tain.
@Tf it had but caught my leg he cried.
Il could tear it loose, but OH these pre-
eious arms of mine"
1t was a terrible moment for the en-
trapped man.
Al at once in that hour of terror, he
thought of the man for whom he had
prepared the jaws of the unyielding
steel.
He would doubtless reach the crossing
and release him before the train was
due, for Julian Wingfold was not a
vengeful rival.
All thoughts of revenge against the
beautiful Agnes Temple had left his
mind, he looked at the stars that seemed
to mock his misery, and pleaded for
help from the terror-stricken depths of
his heart
God and man seemed to have left the
hater to his fate.
Suddenly David Thrall started, and
cry of despair welled from his throat.
The shrill snriek of the locomotive
told him that the one dreaded hour of
his awful captivity had passed away, and
the end of all was near at hand.
God in Heaven, have mercy" he
cried. do unto me not as would have
done with another
But no deliyerance came, and the
sound of steam died away with mock
ing echo.
Within five minutes the iron monster
would be upon him, and the most terri
bic drama ever enacted in that lovely
country would have reached its tragic
finale
He heard the rumble Of the train,
which seemed to approach on the wings
of the wind He raved, he cursed, tried
to wrench his wrists from the jaws of
steel tried to break them of, and bear
life and the bleeding stumps away, but
in vain.
i With the tenacity of death itself, the
Sampsonian trap held him down. The
locomotive shrieked again and David
Thrall paused and looked over his
shoulder
He saw the light now, it dazzled his
eyes, and he could not shade the pre-
cious Orbs with his hands.
Then he sbriked at the top ofhis voice;
but the cars came ON.
No deliverance, oh, Heaven he ex
claimed, sinking back in the few mo
ments he had yet TO live. al have mer-
tied this. What a terrible thing retri-
button is He will be happy, and she
will smile upon him, with all her d'lz-
zing beauty. But Lob, God. pity me
Chained to the track-caught in a trap
made by my own hands for fellow be-
ing. 1t is just. Heaven forgive me and
pity my poor
The roar of the advancing train drown
ed the sweetest word that ever parted
his lips-mother.
The cow catcher struck him, and the
next instant the iron demon tore him
to pieces
The tragedy had ended, and a few
drops of blood, few broken leaves and
a severed chain, we're ali that remained
upon the track at the crossing.
The rumbling of the train had scarce
" died away in the distance, when Ju-
Ian Wingfold, returning from the smiles
Of Agnes Temple, crossed the track. He
Stepped where the instrument of death
had lain, an passed on without noticing
: its handiwork. Ifhe had glanced aside.
he might have seen two battered steel
jaws still clasping the armless hands Of
his rival the blacksmith
The remains were discovered on the
, following day, and the presence Of the
trap told the awful story. But none
among the Mortified spectators could
describe the sufferings ofthe man caught
in his own trap.
David Thrall's widowed mother soon
: followed him 70 the grave.
The little smithy still stands in Mid
dleton, and the supershtions say that
every night they hear David Thrall beat
ing steel before his forge.
Julian Wingfold is happy now, but he
never thinks of that one nights work
without feeling which he cannot de-
scribe.
The narration of it has chilled my
very blood.