McCook weekly tribune. (McCook, Neb.) 188?-1886, 1884-08-21
THE MAD MARKSMAN.
Translated from the french of Joseph Moni ct.

/ had Just taken turn, in company
with Doctor Noirot, through the vast
gardens that surrounded his hospital,
and was advancing with him towards
the stoop of his own special dwelling.
The celebrated physician, whose par
ticular field was insanity, was explain
ing to me the case of one of his pa
tents, whom we had met in an alley,
and who had saluted us with a patron
izing air.
At that moment an explosion re-
sounded a few PAGES from us. l
grasped my hosts arm.
what that?" l asked. ''Has one
of your patients shot himself?''
Doctor Noirot smiled.
ssNo," said he, ''reassure yourself
It's still another very curious case 1
want you to see."
And turning obliquely to the left he
drew me toward small pavilion bids
den behind grove of trees. He I'M
locked the door, led me across the mar
row vestibule, and we found ourselve-
in sort of long court surrounded by
walls. A man was there, of lofty
stature, clad in a hunting costume, re-
calling by certain details the Mexican
fashion. He had his back against the
wall of the pavilion and, at the mo-
ment we entered, raised his right
hand, armed with pistol. Our ar
rival did not di,turb him. He aimed
slowly, with sure hand. followed
the direction of the weapon and saw,
about twenty PAGES distant, at the foot
of the opposite wall, white face with
a dark hole in the center of the fore
head. 1t was, as well as could Judge
at that distance, the plaster mask of a
Greek head, in which I thought 1
recognized the classic type of Diana,
the huntress.
The pistol was discharged. The head
did not move and not even fragment
flew from it.
''Look!" said the doctor to me, in a
low voice. Its very curious. He
never misses his mark
s.He never misses?''
<tNo. All the balls are lodged in the
same place, in that dark hole, smaller
than a piece of a hundred SOUS"
The man had drawn another pistol
from his belt. He fred. AS before the
mask remained intact. The weapon
being loaded with several balls, in the
American fashion, the marksman sue
cessively discharged five more balls.
Not one of them cut the forehead of the
white face.
The doctor laid his hand upon the
shoulder of the marksman, who wheeled
about. HIS visage, though Unframed
by a strong beard, had an expression
Nd
''Stop an instant, please" said the
doctor to him.
The man made a sign of consent with
his head. Then the doctor led me to
the other end of the court, and, behind
the plaster mask, showed me plate OF
blackened iron that protected the wall.
In the center of the plate round spot
glistened with reflections of lead pro
duced by the flattening of the balls.
s'You see," said he, showing me the
exact correspondence of the brilliant
spot with the hole that pierced the plas-
ter mask, ''you see that all the balls
pass through there. You will not find
one of them elsewhere.
s'It is marvellous" I answered. "But
what strange history is associated with
this mani"
Come" said the doctor to me, 81
will tell you on the outside"
We again crossed the court and the
vestibule of the pavilion. And this is
what Doctor Noirot told me, while be-
hind us the detonations commenced
with regular intervals between them:
This unfortunate man." said my
host, "calls himself Guido Ventura. Is
he an Italian, Spaniard or an Ameri-
can? That's what we don't exactly
know. Probably he is an American,
for it is the new world particularly that
sends us these virtuosos of the revolver
and rifle. 1t was from there, at all
events, that this one came to France.
You may have seen him last year at
fine Alcazar d Automne, where he gave
four or five exhibitions and would have
had all Paris running to see him if a
terrible event had not suddenly inter-