Clarksville weekly chronicle. (Clarksville, Tenn.) 1873-1890, 1883-12-22
cURiosirrEs or CRIME.
The Case of Blake. From Frank lie
Popular Monthly.

The Case Of Blake. From Frank Lesliea
Popular Monthly.
About the time of the breaking
out of the American Revolution
there stood on the road between
Albany and Schenectady fantas-
tic old building, whose walls had
been reared by the sturdy hand Of
some Dutch architect. From the
lowest branch of large sycamore
in front of this house hung a sign
board, indicating that il was a
place of public entertainment. II
was called the "Blue Horse" and
was noted throughout the surround
ing country.
1t was about FIVE o'clock in the
afternoon Of a bright day in Au-
tumn that group of some half-e-
dozen men was collected in the bar
room, gossIping on theeyents of the
day. A hot dialogue between two
of the party was fast verging into a
quarrel.
"Come, come ; stop this, Wick
liffe," said an old man, "this dis
pute is mere nonsense"
The person whom he addressed
was a short, square-buiIt man, with
a DARK, sallow face, black eye, a
low wrinkled forehead, and lips
that worked and twitched, barring
his teeth like a mastiff preparing to
bite. He was an ugly looking fell
low.
He turned slowly to the old man,
and swapping his fingers in his face,
said, with an oath
"This quarrel with that boy is
my affair, not yours don't meddle
with what don't concern you"
The opponent of Wickliffe, a
young fellow of three or four and
twenty, replied
"Well, WicklIffe, if you will
quarrel, / wont. I'll say no more
about this matter" Turning away,
he paid no more attention to his OPP
ponent. AT last, however, Wick
life muttered something between
his teeth, which drew forth the cry
of SHANE! shame ~ from those
around.
"What's that you say !'' said the
young man.
Nothing, nothing" replied sew
eral. "Don't mind him, Harry"
Harry Blake's face became deadly
pale.
"Wickliffe, 1 did not hear what
you said, but dare you to repeat
it. If you do and there is one word
in it that should not be, thisihour
will be the bitterest of your life"
His adversary did not seem in
clined to give up the dispute, but
repeated, in different language, the
insult he had offered before.
Scarcely were the words out of
his mouth when Blake was upon
him. He lifted him from his seat
and flung him across the room
against the opposite wall.
Wickliffe lay for a moment stun
ned, but, on recovering, sprang to
his feet, and shaking his fist at
Blake, said:
"My boy, you may take your
measure for a coffin after this. You
will need one"
He then left the room, and Blake
would have rushed after him, but
for being restrained by those pres
ent.
They detained him some time,
reasoning with him on the absurd
ity of quarreling with a man of
WicklIffe's stamp. But at last he
left them-for he had five miles to
ride home - and, mounting his
horse, was soon galloping along the
road.
Soon after two more of the loiter-
ers in the barroom prepared to start
on their homeward way. Their
road lay in the same direction as
Blake and Wickliffe had taken.
They were riding quietly along
when, on a sudden, loud cry from
a little distance, fell upon their ears.
In a moment it was repeated.
"There is foul play here" said
one, named Walton. "Some one
begging for mercy! Did you hear
the name ?"
"NO."
al did, and it was Harry. Can
Harry Blake be settling scores with
Wickliffe ?''
al hope not"
A dozen leaps of their horses
brought them around the lapse of
trees, which had shut out a sight
that made them shudder.
Within twenty yards Of them,
extended on his back, stone dead,
lay Wickliffe.
Bending over him was Blake,
grasping knife, which was driven
to the shaft into his bosom.
"Good God Harry Blake taken
red-handed in a murder :" exclaim-
ed Grayson. Don't stab again. Oh!
Harry, what have you done pr
Walton sprang from his horse
and threw himself upon Blake, ex-
claiming
Il charge you with murder"
Blake starred.
"Me, with murder? Are you
mad Why, | didn't Kill him I"
at wont do" said Walton. 81
saw you with the knife in your
grasp his bosom - and him
dead This is a sad ending of this
afternoons quarrel"
"Will you hear ," said Blake,
earnestly, land you, Grayson, who |
are older and less impetuous than
Walton, listen to me. ! came here |
but moment before yourselves,
hearing some one calling for help. |
/ found Wickliffe dead, with this
knife in his bosom, and was endeav. |
Oring to pull il out when YOU came |