The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1881-07-08

OuV O1AOIC ouO 49, uOHSOlu6N6ES III
sisted the others, and they went out to
the barn to reassu.e themselves.
Meanwhile the stranger, having gone
ID to wash and make his garments some
what more tidy, disclosed to tho land
lord bloody cash upon the side of his
head, which he bathed, and, calling for
plaster, dressed it,
How did you get that wound,
fl1end2" asked the landlord, curiously.
ga falling Dough in the storm last
night, was the answer, carelessly. 81
did not think It was SO severe a cut. So
much to do to manage my horse hard
ly gave it thought"
Where might you be from, sir?"
continued the landlord, not exactly sat
isfed.
" | might be from any quarter of the
world you choose" said the stranger:
and if [ told you from England ] don't
know that it would make you any wiser.
Don't begin to catechise tired man. If
pay my way that's all you need wish
of me-"
"Humph p grunted the landlord, as
he ordered table ready for his bluff
visitor. "I'm not sure that this fellow
amt rough customer and suspicious
character. I'll keep all eye on him p
While the stranger was at breakfast.
those who had been to inspect the horse
reasserted that it was no other than
Amos Dunbar's mare and, whispering
to the landlord about it, they agreed to
ask the stranger how she came into his
possession as soon as he had finished
his meal.
" He had heap of money aboi1t him
when he went away, yesterday" said
the inkeepef, shaking his head in a sim
lister manner.
"Look here, stranger" said one of
the villagers, as he rose from the table
and came forth, CANT that same Dun
bars mare, that you rid here?"
~ don't know him. Why do you
ask?" said the stranger, frowninG at
what he considered village imperti-
nence.
GO But we know his mare and that's
her, sure as snakes. He left here, where
he lives, yes'd'y forenoon on her back,
and you must have met him else how
came you by his horse2"
have ridden her about 200 miles. and
so she couldn't well have been here
yesterday" replied the stranger, vexed
Mt the suspicious glances which were cast
upon him, and attributing them to the
lnsolence which solid exterior some
times invites from the low-minded,
Without staying to hear their replies,
he turned his back suddenly upon them
and proceeded to the barn, where he
took from the. saddle large leathern
pocket-book, and, concealing it about
his person. returned to the house..
" had forgotten that" he reflected.
Without money l might indeed give
cause for suspicion"
A boy in the barn had noticed this
act, and, hearing that the man was a
suspected horse thief, he ran in and told
the landlord.
Suspicion now increased against the
stranger. Why didn't he tell straight
story2 Where did he get the wound on
his head Why did he falsify about the
mare? Why was he so close-minded
Amos Dunbar was widely known as a
wealthy man, and his favorite mare,
julie, was equally well known to the vii
lage. He had ridden away with her the
day before, with large sum of money.
Now, stranger had come back with
her, pretending not to have seen him.
What did all this mean?
The landlord sent at once for Mrs.
Dunbar, who came in great haste and
anguish, identified the mare, even the
saddle, and now joined in the painful
belief that the traveller had murdered
her husband for his money and fed up
on his beast, not deeming that he was
coming to the very place where he
would be most easily detected.
The ire of the people at the tavern was
aroused, and they again confronted the
stranger, having procured constable,
and, to his dire alarm, the mare having
been brought from the stable, he was
told to consider himself under arrest I'M
less he could give satisfactory ex-
PLANTATION of the mystery. The presence
of Mrs. Dunbar added solemnity to the
inquest. But the strangers indignation
still Svermastered his alarm. @
"The mare was hired by me in the
| city, which is over 200 miles away. I
have ridden her night and day since
then, only stopping for few hours rest
and refreshment, and intend to do so
until / reach B, whittier important
business urges me to this haste. More
| you have no right to know, and more /
will not answer, unle ss compelled In due
form by those who have right to ques-
! ton me-"
"Surely I ought to know my own
horse, which was brought up by us from
a toal p exclaimed Mrs. Dunbar, pet
ting the animal affectionately, while
tears OF apprehension rolled down her
face.
"Madam," said the stranger, in a
more soothing tone, "you are certainly
mistaken in the identity of the animal.
I have ridden her, as I say, for more
| than"
"Don't lie any more I" roughly inter
rupted the landlord. "Murder will out,
and you might as well tell the truth first
as last. For"
He was in turn interrupted by a saw
age spring, which the stranger at that
moment made toward him, to avenge
the insult of being called liar; and,
had not others-luckily for the rash
host-quickly interposed, he would have
paid a severe penalty for his rashness.
"Hold him He is getting desperate
now cried the enraged host. "Hell
have to swing yet, I'll be bound. Why
don't you search him? He has been
seen to take pocket-book from the sad
die /"
where my husband always keeps it
when he rides far" said Mrs. Dunbar.
"You need not search met is mine, -
insisted the stranger, instinctively en-
deavoring to prevent the indignity.
"Oh, but there is need |" said the
constable. eff it's yours, you'll get it
again; and-here it is, :" he added, draw
ing it from beneath the shirt-bosom of
the suspected man. 'Mrs. Dunbar, do
you know that pocket-book 2"
She opened it and disclosed pile Of
bank notes, her husbands name written
on the inside, and papers which could
belong to no one but him.