The Douglas independent. [volume] (Roseburg, Or.) 187?-1885, 1884-03-15

home, much about the same time, in most
extraordinary state from the @Three Jolly
Potboys"
From that hour he was the fend'sl
III.
Joseph Washford had taken the first fatal
step. He had taken two-three-four steps;
and now from hesitating, creeping, cat-like
mode OF progression, he had got into a
firmar tread--an amble--a positive troll He
took the family linen ito the wash one Of
Mime. Witherspoon's best Holland chemises
was never seen after.
.Lostl-inapossiblel How could 1t be losti
where could it be gonea-who could have
got it1 It was her best-her very bestl-she
should know it among hundred among a
thousand! lit was marked with great w in
the corner. Losta-impossible She would
see!n Alasi she never did see. But Joseph
Washfords Sunday shirt was ssen, finer and
fairer than ever.
The meetingAay, the meeting. Joe Wash
ford never missed the Appledore Independent
meeting house, whether the services were in
the morning or afternoon-whether the Rev.
Mr. SIyandry exhorted or made way for the
Rev. Mr.. Tearbrain. Let who would off,
ciate, there was Joe. AS have said before, he
never missed; but other people missed-one
missed an umbrella, one a pair OF clogs
Farmer johnson missed his tobacco box,
Farmer jackson his great coat; Miss Jackson
missed her hymn book, a diamond edition,
bound In maroon-colored velvet with gilt
corners and clasps. Everything, in short,
was missei-but Joe Washford; there he sat,
grave, sedate and motionless, all save that
restless troublesome, fdgety little pigtail
attached to his wig, which nothing could
keep quiet, or prevent from tickling or inter-
fering with Miss Thompson's curl, as she sat
back to back with Joe in the adjoining pew.
After the third Sunday, Nancy Thompson
eloped with the tall recruiting sergeant of
the Connaught Rangers.
The summer passed away, autumn came
and went and Christmas, jolly Christmas,
was at hand. 1t was fine, bracing morning,
the sun was just beginning to throw a
brighter tint upon the Quaker-colored ravine
of Orlestone hill, when medical gentleman,
returning to the quiet little village of Ham
Street, that lies at its foot, from farm
house at Kingsnorth, rode briskly down the
declivity, when suddenly his active cob
brought herself up in mid-career upon her
launches, and stood stock still, snorting like
a stranded grampus, and alike insensible to
the gentle hints afforded her by hand and
heel.
It is of no great use, and not particularly
agreeable, to sit still, on cold, frosty morn
ing in January, upon the outside of brute
that will neither go forward nor backward;
SO Mr.. Moneypenny got off, in order to dis
cover, if possible, what it was that so at
tracted the attention of Bucephalus.
His curiosity was not long at fault; the
sunbeam glanced partially upon some objoot
ruddier even than itself-it was a scarlet
waistcoat, the wearer Of which, overcome
perchance by Christmas potation, seemed to
have selected the thickest clump of the
tallest and most imposing nettles, whereon
to doze away the narcotic effects of super
abundant juniper.
This, at least was Mr. Moneypenny's be-
lief, or he would scarcely hav5uttered, at the
highest pitch of his contralto, "What are you
doing there, you drunken rascals frightening
my horsel Get up, | say-get up, and go
home, you scoundreln But the ascoundreF'
and drunken rascal" answered not; he
moved not, nor could the prolonged shouting
of the appellant, aided by significant ex-
plosions from double thonged whip, sue
ceed in eliciting reply. No motion indicated
that the recumbent figure, whose outline
alone was visible, was living and breathing
man.
"Come here, jack quoth the doctor to a
passing plow-boy here boy; lay hold
of this bride, and mind that my horse does
not run away"
Peggy threw up her head and snorted dis
dain of the insinuation; she had not the
slightest intention of doing any such thing.
Mr. Moneypenny meanwhile, diseneum-
bered of hisrestive nag, proceeded, by manual
application, to arouse the sleeper.
Alasl his was that "dreamless sleep that
knows no waking" his cares in this world
were over. There lay before the doctor the
ifeless body of a murdered man2
The corpse lay stretched upon its back
partially concealed, as we have before said
by the nettles which had sprung up among
the stumps Of the half-grubbed underwood
the throat was fearfully lacerated, and the
dark, deep, arterial dye of the coagulateC
blood showed that the carotid had beer
severed. There was little to denote the ex
istence Of any struggle; but as the day
frightened, the sandy soil of the road ex
hibited an impression as Of body that hae
fallen on its plastic surface. and had beer
dragged to its present position, while fresl
horseshoe prints seemed to intimate tina
either the assassin or his victim had beer
mounted. The pockets of the deceased wer'
turned out and empty; a hat and heavy
loaded whip lay at no great distance from
the body.
"But what have we here" quoth DR.
Moneypenny; "what is it that the poor fellow
holds SO tightly in his hands"
That hand had mauifestly clutched som
article with all the spasmodic energy of
dying grasp. IT WAS AN OLD WIG!
vi
| In an old fashioned courtroom hale, ro
bust man, somewhat past middle age, with
very bald pate, save where continued tuf
| of coarse, wiry hair, stretching from abov
| each ear, swelled out into grayish- -1ookin;
| bush upon the occiput held up his hand befor
a grave and enlightened assemblage of jury
men. He stood arraigned for that offens
| most heinous in the sight of God and man
the deliberate and cold-blooded butcher yo
! an unoffendng, unprepared fellow creature
| The victim was one Humphrey Bourne,
reputable grazier, worthy and well-to dc
| though, perchance, a thought too apt to in
dulge on market day, when score OF eve
had brought in reasonable profit Som
such cause had detained him longer tina
usual at the cattle show; he had left, th
town late and alone; early in the followin
morning his horse was found standing at hi
own stable door, the saddle turned round bt
meath its belly, and much about the tim
that the corpse OF its unfortunate maste
was discovered some four miles off by on
friend, the doctor
That poor Bourne had been robbed an
/ murdered there could be no question.
/ Who, then, was the perpetrator of the atr'
cious deeda The unwilling hand almost r.
| fuses to trace the name of-Joseph Washfort
Yet SO it was Mr.. Jeremiah Jarvis wa
| himself the coroner for that division Of tt
county of Kent. He had not sat two minute
on the body before he recognized bis quol
dam property, and started on beholding