Weekly Chillicothe crisis. (Chillicothe, Livingston Co., Mo.) 1878-19??, 1882-08-31
ing left to hope for, he went back tc
thp old home

ing left to hope for, he went back tc
the old home.
There was no one to greet him at thu
station that they had now in the little
town which had been country when he
went away. Oh, the terrible changes
His own people We're gone away years
ago, no one knew where. He found
his friend, the old maid, and from her
he learned in brief how the world had
gone while the prison walls had held
him.
Tom French was noted lawyer.
Leonard Edwards was the banker in
the little town, rich and respected. He
handled all the money of all the resi-.
dents. Every one trusted him. Alice
Brown had married Edwards eight
years before. They were childlcSs
Report said they were not happy
Pcarlie Bradstrect was believed TO be
thoroughly and entirely deprayed
And so on of others.
In the evening, Feddcn went boldly
to the store where he had spent
many evenings in the by-gone years
people looked rather quecrly at him
but nearly every man present haC
signed the petition for his release, anc
all gave him sort of welcome.
There was news to excite comment
unexpected news, and SO the cXpCctc,
and discussed and lookcd-forward-tC
return of the murderer became less i'm
portant. The news was that PcarliC
Bradstrcct had gone; gone by the train
gone in broad daylight, but gone will
all her belongings; and gone without :
word of explanation, so far as could be
found out, to any one.
"Wc'll watch to see who goes on the
train at midnight. We shall be one
man fewer, as well as one woman, il
the morning
At eleven, just as the crowd at the
store were about going home, thcr,
was Il sudden alarm Of fire. The grca
mansion belonging TO Leonard Edward'
was burning. BY the time the engine.
reached it, it was beyond help, Brave
men penetrated rs far rs the bedroom
of Mr.. and Mrs. Edwards, and brough
out Mrs. Edwards dead and terribly
burned. The private Office of Lconar,
Edwards, beyond, was simplyaG furnace
at that time.
III he's in there, he was beyond hell
long ago said fireman.
"lt'S the work of criminal, salt
another; "the house was fired in ;
score of places. There are piles o
kindlng along the hall above not en-
tircly gone yet. Ii means robbery an,
murder.
No one could accuse Bill Fcddrn
however, for all knew whore he hac
spent the evening.
No one went on the midnight train
so reported the man who had gonc
from the fire purposcly to watch.
Something has detained PcariC
Bradstrcct's lover he said,
Something had.
CHAPTER ",
The next morning the authorities an,
chief citizens went together from tn,
pile of ruins which had been the hOm,
of the banker, and where more than
one man had shed tears that mornin!
to his memory, to the bank. Stranger
must adjust the affairs the honorc'
gentleman had left behind him
The front door was forced open. |
took some time, and tools had to b
brought from u blackSmith's shop be
fore It could be done. Inside was
wild scene of confusion. kindlingS
ready to light, were scattered about, 4
they had been at the bankers house
The safe was wide open; the keys o
| the safe and of the front door Of tn
bank were beside it; Il large portman
tcau full of bank bills, securities, an,
valuqblcs kept there for safety, stOo
near the door leading to the banker
private room. This door was as Stron;
rs the outer door. To pass it woul
he as difficult. 1t fastened by u Sprini
lock when shut. Perhaps it had blow
shut, for the key was in the lock on th
outside. To open it was the work q
only moment. In one minute NOR
men were crowding around Bill Fed
den with tears in their eyes, and wit
hands stretched out to clasp his, Fo
within, with his head resting on hi
folded arms on the table, sat Lconar
Edwards, dead by his own hand, an
in his still' fingers was claspcd pistc
with the name of Bill Fcddcn on tn
handle ii pistol stolen ten years before
And "Suicidc is confession