The true northerner. [volume] (Paw Paw, Mich.) 1855-1920, 1881-07-29
lilacs on purple ground. II was all I
bad. Besides. / should know the piece.

had. Besides, should know the piece,
because on one end there is about half
yard imperfectly printed, which has
holes in it, too. l remember l let Mrs.
Curtis have it cheaper, on that account
Now, Peter Groat knows where the MUIR
derer is, or-solemnly and slowly--he
did the deed HIMSELF"
The party of men went silently and
soberly to the back door, and here they
were Mortified in finding fresh evidence
Frau Groat was engaged In washing q
blood-stained shirt!
They sternly asked her TO whom ii be-
loDged, but the poor woman, who could
not speak English, could only look Mt
them in frightened way. Her husband
now came in from the garden, and linn
they sternly Intercepted. while some of
the more impetuous bodily accused him
of the murder of the unfortunate Mrs.
Curtis. His frightened face. his con-
fusion. his incoherent utterances, his
trembling denials were only so much
against him. Besides, he knew scarcely
any more English than his wife, and
later, when calm, his story of the traveller
who had stopped at his house, was re
ceived with disbelief and derision Poor,
friendless, aud a stranger, things looked
very dark against him.
Weeks passed, his trial came; he was
sentenced to be hanged.
Rev. Mr.. Marshall, rector of ST.
Johns Church, Brookdale, village
some two hundred miles distant from
Haywood, was in his study, one Septem-
Der morning, in the year 1873. He was
suffering from an attack of influenza
which he had taken the night before,
while on visit to sick parishoner
Consequently, complying with his wife's
request that he should do no studying or
writing, Mr.. Marshall was lazily
stretched on the lounge in front of a
cherry fire. His eight years old son,
Tom, was in the room, every now and
then running up to his father, with some
request. At last one was: "Papa, it's
Saturday; how shall spend the day
Wish L had kite. DO. you know how
to make one, papa?"
81 used to, Tom. 1 don't know
whether 1 have forgotten or not. Give
me the newspaper on the table, please,
and the scissors. Then run out in the
wood shed and get me some of those
sticks on the shelf, also hammer and
some small nails. Stay, don't be in such
n hurry; ask Hannah to make little
-four paste.
Tom hurried away, and while waiting
for him to return, his father glanced
over the columns of the newspaper he
was cutting. 1t was one that his friend,
Mr.. Brown, of Haywood. had sent him.
His eyes CHANGED to fail upon these
words:
1.-THE German, Peter Groat, who muir
dered Mrs. Curtis, has been sentenced
to be hung on the second Friday i'll next
month. Groat, though stranger, was
supposed to be a respectable man, and
one not at oil capable of perpetrating
such crime. But the evidences of his
guilt are most conclusive. The morning
after the murder, his wife was found
washing bloody shirt, also a knife
stained with blood was found hidden
near woodpile. Besides, goods belong
ing to the murdered woman, were found
il Greats house. The only thing miss
ing is curious old snuff-box, of some
black wood, quantity carved in the shape
of toad. Her name. Hepsibah Curtis,
is engraved on the inside. But with
out this, the evidence is strong enough
to hang him."
Poor fellow" murmured Mr.. Mar
shall, as he laid down the paper ut
makes one dread to read the news--one
comes across so many horrors.
Papa! papa! you needn't mind about
no in1 -
with shining eyes. Uncle George just
called me over to his house-he is going
fishing, and says he will take me along.
May | go?'
IF mamma is willing"
''She Is; L asked her. And I've been
digging grubs and fish worms-for bnit
you know. But see what a nice bait
box I've got"
"An old snuff-box. Where did you
get it?"
"Myron Mason gave it to ME.
"Who is Myron Mason?"
ooh, new man Uncle George got to
work for him in his garden. He's gather
ing the pears and trenching the celery.
Myron was a tramp who came along,
but he is real nice. The box is nice,
too. See what funny shape it is!'
"a toad! Quick! Let me see, Tom"
Mr.. Marshall had not closely exam
ined the box until now. and it was with
trembling fingers that he opened it.
"Hepsibah Curtis, was the name en-
graved on the inner covert
Mr.. Marshall face was white, but his
voice was calm, as he said:
tom, just run over and tell your
uncle George to come over here n few
minutes-I want to talk with him on n
little business.
Three days later, Myron Mason, atias
Jasper Armand, was arrested for the
murder of Mrs. Curtis.
He made no resistance; he told no
falsehoods; he simply confessed the
whole affair, stating that he had mnr-
dered the woman out of revenge. Ten
years before Sie two had lived in the
same town. He had always been wild
and iii solute, bus had been the be-
trothed of Mrs. Curtis sister, gentle
and lovely woman. Mrs. Curtis had
opposed the match, knowing that it
would cause her sister life of misery.