The New Bloomfield, Pa. times. (New Bloomfield, Pa.) 1877-188?, 1878-01-08


hat pulled down to his eye. / could only
see that his face looked swarthy, and his
features were those of half caste
1t was Mario Cropt--come now after
lapse of almost twenty years, for-what?
Was 1t to fulfil his oathY If SO, what
should / dor The idea of crying for
help had been dismissad the moment he
entered, and laid aside as only last
resort; because to your thoroughly des-
perate villain, an outcry is the signal
for the death stroke. The man looked
at me, then stared carefully around the
Office, and next sat down and threw off
the muffer, winding it carefully around
the left forearm. Then he raised his
hat without entirely removing it, look
ing straight at me, and said, "Mr.
Thomas Jefferson Leverett, do you
know me 20
"Of course do" 1 replied.
"Speak my name. then"
When knew you years ago, you
were called Mario Cropt,"
"Well, if your memo1y's as good as
that" pursued my visitor, in quiet
whispering way, without betraying emo
tion of any kind, "p'r'aps something
else you can remember"
AS he spoke the last word his whole
manner changed as though he had been
apiece of pyrotechnic contrivance touch
ed by the match of the exhibitor. He
leaped to his feet, his whole face ablaze
with fierce vengeance and while with
his right hand he drew an enormous
bowie-knife, with his left he grasped me
by the throat, kissing between his teeth,
" You don't forget my oath L have
never forgotten it-never I've hunted
for you, and I've found you You put
me on What did you gain by doing soS
Take thatl"
He thought to strike me; but with
the quickness of thought, and the
strength of desperation, L caught his
right wrist with both my hands and
held him at bay. L held that awful
knife suspended; but the grip of that
hand on my throat was choking me. 1
could not cry out, and, as his grip tight
ened, found it difficult to breathe. Sew
eral times he sought to free his right
hand, but finding my two hands more
than he could overcome, he turned his
attention to my throat. Thus far his
grasp had been below the larnyx; but
now he raised his great broad thumb
above that strong bony cartilage and
pressed it upon the soft part, pretty soon
changing the position of the fingers, so
that it seemed as though he were liter
ally tearing both gullet and windpipe
from my neck. A moment SO, and
then my breath was stopped entirely.
thought OF using my right hand to re-
move the grip from my throat; but, If l
did that, the knife would find my bo-
som. was child in the hands of a
master; for that man was perfect Her
cules-a literal Samson-while L was a
slim framed man.
With one last effort of strength reel
ed backward, and we both went to the
floor, overturning the tables and two
chairs as we went down.
My hold had relaxed, and in the fall
his right hand had been freed, his left
still gripping my throat. saw the
knife cleaning in the dim, uncertain
light. thought of that scene in the
court room, twenty years before-the
jury's verdict-the sentence-and the
half-caste's oath-I thought, too, of the
loved ones at homeland then
A blaze-a crash-a roar, as of the
wreck of worlds-a falling of the weight
from my bosom and from my throat
and all was darkness and chaos!
When came to myself, my office
was full of people. Two physicians
were supporting me, while my wife was
telling story to the crowd; and pretty
soon the last part of her story was told
to me-
She had been at the school-house, with
an umbrella to escort home the children.
On the way home she met man whose
peculiar appearance attracted her atten-
ton. She took him for one of the old
forest rangers and trappers, who come to
the settlement to obtain jobs as guides
to emigrants over the prairies; and as
he passed she detected something famil-
lar in the small portion of the face she
saw. All the way home she tried to
think where she had seen those features
before; and just as she reached the sitting
room and saw thepistolupon themantle,
the truth flashed upon her. The moment
her mind WAS turned into that channel.